of each day's thinking, something that takes the sting from the petty
trials, sorrows, sufferings and blunders of life, is a great aid to
Concentration. Soldiers in battle may forget their wounds, or even be
unconscious of them, in the inspiration of battling for what they
believe is right. Concentration dignifies an humble life; it makes a
great life,--sublime. In morals it is a short-cut to simplicity. It
leads to right for right's sake, without thought of policy or of
reward. It brings calm and rest to the individual,--a serenity that is
but the sunlight of happiness.

Conquest is the overcoming of an evil habit, the rising superior to
opposition and attack, the spiritual exaltation that comes from
resisting the invasion of the grovelling material side of life.
Sometimes when you are worn and weak with the struggle; when it seems
that justice is a dream, that honesty and loyalty and truth count for
nothing, that the devil is the only good paymaster; when hope grows dim
and flickers, then is the time when you must tower in the great sublime
faith that Right must prevail, then must you throttle these imps of
doubt and despair, you must master yourself to master the world around
you. This is Conquest; this is what counts. Even a log can float with
the current, it takes a man to fight sturdily against an opposing tide
that would sweep his craft out of its course. When the jealousies, the
petty intrigues and the meannesses and the misunderstandings in life
assail you,--rise above them. Be like a lighthouse that illumines and
beautifies the snarling, swashing waves of the storm that threaten it,
that seek to undermine it and seek to wash over it. This is Conquest.
When the chance to win fame, wealth, success or the attainment of your
heart's desire, by sacrifice of honor or principle, comes to you and it
does not affect you long enough even to seem a temptation, you have
been the victor. That too is Conquest. And Conquest is part of the