those three great poems which have made his name immortal. Even poverty,
which has been a hardship to the individual, has proved a boon to himself
and to the cause of humanity. Science teaches us that ordinary mud has in
it elements which, arranged according to the higher laws of nature,
produce the opal, the sapphire, and the diamond. Likewise does history
teach us that from the morass of poverty the commonest types of men have
passed from stage to stage through the refining processes of experience
till they have dazzled the world with their magnificence. Whether it be a
slave like AEsop, a beggar like Homer, a peasant like Raphael, or a
marble-cutter like Socrates, we see them at last wearing the diadem of a
brilliant success.

In fact, the foremost in all nations and in all branches have, as a rule,
risen from the ranks of the poor and lowly. Shakespeare held horses for a
few pennies a night in front of a London theater, and later did menial
service back of the scenes. Disraeli was an office boy, Carlyle a
stone-mason's attendant, and Ben Jonson was a bricklayer. Morrison and
Carey were shoemakers, Franklin was a printer's apprentice, Burns a
country plowman, Stephenson a collier, Faraday a bookbinder, Arkwright a
barber, and Sir Humphrey Davy a drug clerk. Demosthenes was the son of a
cutler, Verdi the son of a baker, Blackstone the son of a draper, and
Luther was the son of a miner. Butler was a farmer, Hugh Miller a
stone-cutter, Abraham Lincoln a rail-splitter, and James Garfield was a
canal boy. One-half of the Presidents of the United States were left
orphans at an early age, left to make their way through the world alone.
History reveals clearly that it has been not the sons of the rich, but
the sons of poverty that have "compelled the favor of fortune and
subjugated fate."

Neither rank nor genius nor any other natural endowment forms the only