How to Succeed | Page 4

of a neighbor, who was then at West Point,
stating that he had failed in examination and was coming home. I got
the butter, took it home, and, without waiting for breakfast ran to the
office of the congressman for our district. 'Mr. Hamer,' I said, 'will you
appoint me to West Point?' 'No, ---- is there, and has three years to
serve.' 'But suppose he should fail, will you send me?' Mr. Hamer
laughed. 'If he don't go through, no use for you to try, Uly.' 'Promise me
you will give me the chance, Mr. Hamer, anyhow.' Mr. Hamer
promised. The next day the defeated lad came home, and the
congressman, laughing at my sharpness, gave me the appointment.
Now," said Grant, "it was my mother's being without butter that made
me general and president." But he was mistaken. It was his own
shrewdness to see the chance, and the promptness to seize it, that urged
him upward.
"There is nobody," says a Roman Cardinal, "whom Fortune does not
visit once in his life; but when she finds he is not ready to receive her,
she goes in at the door, and out through the window." Opportunity is
coy. The careless, the slow, the unobservant, the lazy fail to see it, or
clutch at it when it has gone. The sharp fellows detect it instantly, and
catch it when on the wing.
The utmost which can be said about the matter is, that circumstances
will, and do combine to help men at some periods of their lives, and
combine to thwart them at others. Thus much we freely admit; but there

is no fatality in these combinations, neither any such thing as "luck" or
"chance," as commonly understood. They come and go like all other
opportunities and occasions in life, and if they are seized upon and
made the most of, the man whom they benefit is fortunate; but if they
are neglected and allowed to pass by unimproved, he is unfortunate.
"Charley," says Moses H. Grinnell to a clerk born in New York City,
"take my overcoat tip to my house on Fifth Avenue." Mr. Charley takes
the coat, mutters something about "I'm not an errand boy. I came here
to learn business," and moves reluctantly. Mr. Grinnell sees it, and at
the same time one of his New England clerks says, "I'll take it up."
"That is right, do so," says Mr. G., and to himself he says, "that boy is
smart, he will work," and he gives him plenty to do. He gets promoted,
gets the confidence of business men as well as of his employers, and is
soon known as a successful man.
The youth who starts out in life determined to make the most of his
eyes and let nothing escape him which he can possibly use for his own
advancement, who keeps his ears open for every sound that can help
him on his way, who keeps his hands open that he may clutch every
opportunity, who is ever on the alert for everything which can help him
to get on in the world, who seizes every experience in life and grinds it
up into paint for his great life's picture, who keeps his heart open that
he may catch every noble impulse and everything which may inspire
him, will be sure to live a successful life; there are no ifs or ands about
it. If he has his health, nothing can keep him from success.
Zion's Herald says that Isaac Rich, who gave one million and three
quarters to found Boston University of the Methodist Episcopal Church,
began business thus: at eighteen he went from Cape Cod to Boston with
three or four dollars in his possession, and looked about for something
to do, rising early, walking far, observing closely, reflecting much.
Soon he had an idea: he bought three bushels of oysters, hired a
wheelbarrow, found a piece of board, bought six small plates, six iron
forks, a three-cent pepper-box, and one or two other things. He was at
the oyster-boat buying his oysters at three o'clock in the morning,
wheeled them three miles, set up his board near a market, and began

business. He sold out his oysters as fast as he could get them, at a good
profit. In that same market he continued to deal in oysters and fish for
forty years, became king of the business, and ended by founding a
college. His success was won by industry and honesty.
"Give me a chance," says Haliburton's Stupid, "and I will show you."
But most likely he has had his chance already and neglected it.
"Well, boys," said Mr. A., a New York merchant, to his four clerks one
winter morning in 1815, "this is good news. Peace has been