The Key to Success.
by Russell H. Conwell.
FOREWORD
People are thinking, but they can think much more. The housewife is thinking about the chemical changes caused by heat in meats, vegetables, and liquids. The sailor thinks about the gold in sea-water, the soldier thinks of smokeless powder and m.u.f.fled guns; the puddler meditates on iron squeezers and electric furnaces; the farmer admires Luther Burbank"s magical combinations in plant life; the school-girl examines the composition of her pencil and a.n.a.lyses the writing-paper; the teacher studies psychology at first hand; the preacher understands more of the life that now is; the merchant and manufacturer give more attention to the demand. Yes, we are all thinking. But we are still thinking too far away; even the prism through which we see the stars is near the eyes. The dentist is thinking too much about other people"s teeth.
This book is sent out to induce people to look at their own eyes, to pick up the gold in their laps, to study anatomy under the tutorship of their own hearts. One could acc.u.mulate great wisdom and secure fortunes by studying his own finger-nails. This lesson seems the very easiest to learn, and for that reason is the most difficult.
The lecture, "The Silver Crown," which the author has been giving in various forms for fifty years, is herein printed from a stenographic report of one address on this general subject. It will not be found all together, as a lecture, for this book is an attempt to give further suggestion on the many different ways in which the subject has been treated, just as the lecture has varied in its ill.u.s.trations from time to time. The lecture was addressed to the ear. This truth, which amplifies the lecture, is addressed to the eye.
I have been greatly a.s.sisted, and sometimes superseded, in the preparation of these pages by Prof. James F. Willis, of Philadelphia.
Bless him!
My hope is by this means to reach a larger audience even than that which has heard some of the things herein so many times in the last forty-five years. We do not hope to give or sell anything to the reader. He has enough already. But many starve with bread in their mouths. They spit it out and weep for food. Humans are a strange collection. But they can be induced to think much more accurately and far more efficiently. This book is sent out as an aid to closer observation and more efficient living.
RUSSELL H. CONWELL.
_September 1917._
RUSSELL H. CONWELL[1]
An autobiography! What an absurd request! If all the conditions were favorable, the story of my public life could not be made interesting. It does not seem possible that any will care to read so plain and uneventful a tale.
I was a young man, not yet of age, when I delivered my first platform lecture. The Civil War of 1861-65 drew on with all its pa.s.sions, patriotism, horrors, and fears, and I was studying law at Yale University. I had from childhood felt that I was "called to the ministry." The earliest event of memory is the prayer of my father at family prayers in the little old cottage in the Hampshire highlands of the Berkshire Hills, calling on G.o.d with a sobbing voice to lead me into some special service for the Saviour. It filled me with awe, dread, and fear, and I recoiled from the thought, until I determined to fight against it with all my power. So I sought for other professions and for decent excuses for being anything but a preacher.
Yet while I was nervous and timid before the cla.s.s in declamation and dreaded to face any kind of an audience, I felt in my soul a strange impulsion toward public speaking which for years made me miserable. The war and the public meetings for recruiting soldiers furnished an outlet for my suppressed sense of duty, and my first lecture was on the "Lessons of History."
That matchless temperance orator and loving friend, John B. Gough, introduced me to the little audience in Westfield, Ma.s.sachusetts, in 1862. What a foolish little school-boy speech it must have been! But Mr.
Gough"s kind words of praise, the bouquets, and the applause, made me feel that somehow the way to public oratory would not be so hard as I had feared.
From that time I acted on Mr. Gough"s advice and "sought practice" by accepting almost every invitation I received to speak on any kind of a subject.
While I was gaining practice in the first years of platform work, I had the good fortune to have profitable employment as a soldier, or as a correspondent or lawyer, or as an editor, or as a preacher, which enabled me to pay my own expenses, and it has been seldom in the fifty years that I have ever taken a fee for my personal use. In the last thirty-six years I have dedicated solemnly all the lecture income to benevolent enterprises. If I am antiquated enough for an autobiography, perhaps I may be aged enough to avoid the criticism of being an egotist when I state that some years I delivered one lecture, "Acres of Diamonds," over two hundred times each year, at an average income of about one hundred and fifty dollars for each lecture.
Often have I been asked if I did not, in fifty years of travel in all sorts of conveyances, meet with accidents. It is a marvel to me that no such event ever brought me harm. In a continuous period of over twenty-seven years I delivered about two lectures in every three days, yet I did not miss a single engagement. Sometimes I had to hire a special train, but I reached the town on time, with only a rare exception, and then I was but a few minutes late. Accidents have preceded and followed me on trains and boats, and were sometimes in sight, but I was preserved without injury through all the years. In the Johnstown flood region I saw a bridge go out behind our train. I was once on a derelict steamer on the Atlantic for twenty-six days. At another time a man was killed in the berth of a sleeper I had left half an hour before. Often have I felt the train leave the track, but no one was killed.
Yet this period of lecturing has been, after all, a side issue. The Temple, and its church, in Philadelphia, which, when its membership was less than three thousand members, for so many years contributed through its membership over sixty thousand dollars a year for the uplift of humanity, have made life a continual surprise; while the Samaritan Hospital"s amazing growth, and the Garretson Hospital"s dispensaries, have been so continually ministering to the sick and poor, and have done such skilful work for the tens of thousands who ask for their help each year, that I have been happy while away lecturing by the feeling that each hour and minute they were faithfully doing good.
Temple University, which was founded only twenty-seven years ago, has already sent out into a higher income and n.o.bler life nearly a hundred thousand young men and women who could not probably have obtained an education in any other inst.i.tution. The faithful, self-sacrificing faculty, now numbering two hundred and fifty-three professors, have done the real work. For that I can claim but little credit; and I mention the university here only to show that my "fifty years on the lecture platform" has necessarily been a side line of work.
My best-known lecture, "Acres of Diamonds," was a mere accidental address, at first given before a reunion of my old comrades of the Forty-sixth Ma.s.sachusetts Regiment, which served in the Civil War, and in which I was captain. I had no thought of giving the address again, and even after it began to be called for by lecture committees I did not dream that I should live to deliver it, as I now have done, almost five thousand times. "What is the secret of its popularity?" I could never explain to myself or others. I simply know that I always attempt to enthuse myself on each occasion with the idea that it is a special opportunity to do good, and I interest myself in each community and apply the general principles with local ill.u.s.trations.
RUSSELL H. CONWELL.
SOUTH WORTHINGTON, Ma.s.sACHUSETTS,
_September 1, 1913_.
[Footnote 1: These pages are taken from an autobiographical chapter in Doctor Conwell"s previous book, _Acres of Diamonds_, published by Harper & Brothers.]
OBSERVATION:--EVERY MAN HIS OWN UNIVERSITY
I
OBSERVATION--THE KEY TO SUCCESS
Years ago we went up the Ganges River in India. I was then a traveling correspondent, and we visited Argra, the sacred city of northern India, going thence to the Taj Mahal. Then we hired an ox team to take us across country twenty-two miles to visit the summer home of Ackba, the great Mogul of India. That is a wonderful, but dead city.
I have never been sorry that I traversed that country. What I saw and heard furnished me with a story which I have never seen in print.
_Harper"s Magazine_ recently published an ill.u.s.trated article upon the city, so that if you secure the files you may find the account of that wonderful dead city at Futtepore Sicree.
As we were being shown around those buildings the old guide, full of Eastern lore, told us a tradition connected with the ancient history of that place which has served me often as an ill.u.s.tration of the practical ideas I desire to advance. I wrote it down in the "hen tracks" of short-hand which are now difficult to decipher. But I remember well the story.
He said that there was a beautiful palace on that spot before the great Mogul purchased it. That previous palace was the scene of the traditional story. In the palace there was a throne-room, and at the head of that room there was a raised platform, and upon the platform was placed the throne of burnished gold. Beside the throne was a pedestal upon which rested the wonderful Crown of Silver, which the emperor wore when his word was to be actual law. At other times he was no more than an ordinary citizen. But when he a.s.sumed that crown, which was made of silver because silver was then worth much more than gold, his command was as absolute as the law of the Medes and Persians.
The guide said that when the old king who had ruled that country for many years died he was without heirs, leaving no person to claim that throne or to wear that Crown of Silver. The people, believing in the divine right of kings, were unwilling to accept any person to rule who was not born in the royal line. They wasted twelve years in searching for some successor, some relative of the late king. At last the people sank into anarchy, business ceased, famine overspread the land, and the afflicted people called upon the astrologers--their priests--to find a king.
The astrologers, who then worshiped the stars, met in that throne-room and, consulting their curious charts, asked of the stars:
"Where shall we find a successor to our king?"
The stars made to them this reply:
"Look up and down your country, and when you find _a man whom the animals follow, the sun serves, the waters obey, and mankind love_, you need not ask who his ancestors were. This man will be one of the royal line ent.i.tled to the throne of gold and the Crown of Silver."
The astrologers dispersed and began to ask of the people:
"Have you seen a man whom the animals follow, the sun serves, the waters obey, and mankind love?"
They were only met with ridicule. At last, in his travels, one gray old astrologer found his way into the depths of the Himalaya Mountains. He was overtaken by a December storm and sought shelter in a huntsman"s cottage on the side of a mountain.