Chapter 38: The Roll Call of The Great

If the roll were called for the truly great, who would dare to answer? Would it be those who have clean hearts and clean hands, who have taken advantage of no one, but have helped everybody, and have retarded no one's progress; would it be those whose lives have been a perpetual benediction of cheerfulness, encouragement, helpfulness, and inspiration, regardless of whether they have accumulated money or not; or would it be those who have blocked the way for others and used them as stepping-stones upon which to climb to their own goal, regardless of their welfare; would it be those who figure most conspicuously in the gaze of the world and the publicity of newspapers?

If the roll were called, and only really honest responses were accepted, would not thousands of so-called success-ul men of wealth be dumb? Would not many who figure in the world's fame also be mute? Would not the tongue of a man be tied whose success is full of the ghosts of ruined lives?

When will the world learn that heart-wealth is the only real wealth, that money in itself is contemptible in comparison with noble deeds? When shall we learn that the accumulation of money often represents the lowest human faculties, the coarser side of man in which the finer instincts have no part? Grasping, seizing, piling one dollar on another is not success.

Who can estimate what the world owes to those who, according to the ordinary modern standard of success, have failed? Who can compute the debt of civilization to the men and women who in their efforts to make the world a little brighter, a little better place in which to live, have been too busy to make money?

When the genius of history unrolls the scroll of earth's benefactors, it will be found that many of those who stand highest on the list were hardly recognized during their lives. The name of many a servant will be above that of his master. Many a humble employee will be found to have been, in reality, more successful than the proprietor of the establishment in which he worked. The name of many a day-laborer, whose life was absorbed in making a modest home comfortable, and in trying to give his children a better education, a better start in life than he had, will be found written far above those of men who were lauded in print, and were looked up to as eminently successful.

It will be easy to find the story of some boy who remained on the farm and helped to pay the mortgage, stifled his ambition in order that the favorite brother might be sent to college, and thereby scored a much greater success than the one for whom the sacrifice was made.

The girl who smothered her longings for a higher education, or sacrificed the prospects of marriage and a home of her own, in order to take care of her aged parents, and was not known outside of her little coterie of friends, may have her name recorded far higher on the honor roll than that of the sister who went to college, or became a great author, musician, artist, or actress.

Not a few employers will be surprised to find the names of those who have made their wealth possible — those whose ambitions they have crushed, whose hopes they have blasted, whose opportunities they have cramped, and to whom they have never given a kind or encouraging word — emblazoned in shining characters in that list of chosen ones where they will look in vain for their own.

Many a mill-owner will be amazed to find the names of his poor operatives, who worked in the unhealthy, gloomy mill, early and late, year in and year out, and whom he never recognized, — emaciated boys and girls, compelled by an unfortunate economic system to work when they should have been at school, bent and feeble fathers and mothers, and little children, who never knew the joys of childhood, — standing out accusingly, while his own and those of his pampered children are nowhere visible.

The arrogant millionaire will be likely to find, far above his own, the names of his coachman, housemaid, and cook, — so-called menials, — on whom, perhaps, he and his family looked like beings of an inferior world.

Many a successful merchant will look in vain for the name of an idolized and over-indulged son, but will find that of a despised office boy, an unnoticed clerk, or an overworked and under-paid stenographer.

No one will live long in the world's memory, or find a place on the honor roll, who has not done something besides selfishly grasping and holding the “almighty dollar,” or working within the narrow sphere of personal interests and ambitions.

Achievement is not always success, while reputed failure often is. It is honest endeavor, persistent effort to do the best possible under any and all circumstances, daily practice of the Golden Rule, scattering little deeds of love and kindness along life's pathway, and aspiration to be of use in the world, that will win a place in the ranks of the elect.

Fame, wealth, position, worldly honors, — these have nothing to do with real success. The most successful Man that ever lived was despised of men, and so poor that He had not where to lay His head.

Ah, how shrunken and pitiful a thing, what a delusion, is the so-called success of self-absorbed men and women!

They who trample under foot every sentiment of human pity, love, and kindness, who brush aside opportunities to help brighten other lives as so many obstacles to the achievement of their ambition, — whatever it may be, — will cut sorry figures when their accounts are balanced. Like that private soldier into whose hands there fell, when Galerius sacked the camp of the Persians, "a bag of shining leather filled with pearls," and who, according to Gibbon, the historian, "carefully preserved the bag, but threw away the contents," they will find that they have spurned true riches, real success, to grasp what is false.

In the white light of history, before the tribunal of justice, we shall not be judged for what we seem to be or have achieved, but for what we are and by what we have tried to do.

In the judgment of this tribunal, from which there is no appeal, many failures will be approved as successes, and many successes will be adjudged failures.

In imperishable characters, there will be inscribed on the success roll of honor names unfamiliar to most of us, the names of those who nobly performed humble parts in life: the unknown workers for humanity, the heroic sufferers, — some blind, some crippled or handicapped by the loss of hands or feet, or tortured by incurable disease, — who, with a fortitude equal to that of the martyrs of old, took up life's burdens and bravely made the most of the powers and opportunities bestowed upon them by the Almighty.

I hope you enjoyed reading The Optimistic Life by Orison Swett Marden.

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