s such drudgery, and
remains poor; the Chinaman toils patiently on, and grows rich. A few
years pass by, and he has warehouses; becomes a contractor for produce;
buys foreign goods by the cargo; and employs his newly imported
countrymen, who have come to seek their fortune as he did. He is not
particularly scrupulous in matters of opinion. He never meddles with
politics, for they are dangerous and not profitable; but he will adopt
any creed, and carefully follow any observances, if, by so doing, he
can confirm or improve his position. He thrives with the Spaniard, and
works while the latter sleeps. He is too quick for the Dutchman, and
can smoke and bargain at the same time. He has harder work with the
Englishman, but still he is too much for him, and succeeds. Climate
has no effect on him: it cannot stop his hands, unless it kills him;
and if it does, he dies in harness, battling for money till his last
breath. Whoever he may be, and in whatever position, whether in his
own or a foreign country, he is diligent, temperate, and uncomplaining.
He keeps the word he pledges, pays his debts, and is capable of noble
and generous actions. It has been customary to speak lightly of him,
and to judge a whole people by a few vagabonds in a provincial seaport,
whose morals and manners have not been improved by foreign society."

Columbus was dismissed as a fool from court after court, but he pushed
his suit against an incredulous and ridiculing world. Rebuffed by
kings, scorned by queens, he did not swerve a hair's breadth from the
overmastering purpose which dominated his soul. The words "New World"
were graven upon his heart; and reputation, ease, pleasure, position,
life itself if need be, must be sacrificed. Threats, ridicule,
ostracism, storms, leaky vessels, mutiny of sailors, could not shake
his mighty purpose.

You cannot keep a determined man from success. Place stumbling-blocks
in his way and he takes them for stepping-stones, and on them will
climb to greatness. Take away his money, and he makes spurs of his
poverty to urge him on. Cripple him, and he writes the Waverley
Novels. Lock him up in a dungeon, and he composes the immortal
"Pilgrim's Progress." Put him in a cradle in a log cabin in the
wilderness of America, and in a few years you will find him in the
Capitol at the head of the greatest nation on the globe.

Would it were possible to convince the struggling youth of to-day that
all that is g