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　the　farther　behind　he　goes。　　Not　because　he　is　any　the　less　brave；　but　because　the　laws　of　war　require　that。　　And　yet　he　shouted；　‘‘I；　with　my　shining　sword''　　In　that　house　there　sat　the　company　of　my　soldiers　who　had　carried　that　boy　across　the　Carolina　rivers　that　he　might　not　wet　his　feet。　　Some　of　them　had　gone　far　out　to　get　a　pig　or　a　chicken。　　Some　of　them　had　gone　to　death　under　the　shell…swept　pines　in　the　mountains　of　Tennessee；　yet　in　the　good　man's　speech　they　were　scarcely　known。　　He　did　refer　to　them；　but　only　incidentally。　　The　hero　of　the　hour　was　this　boy。　　Did　the　nation　owe　him　anything？　　No；　nothing　then　and　nothing　now。　　Why　was　he　the　hero？　　Simply　because　that　man　fell　into　that　same　human　errorthat　this　boy　was　great　because　he　was　an　officer　and　these　were　only　private　soldiers。

Oh；　I　learned　the　lesson　then　that　I　will　never　forget　so　long　as　the　tongue　of　the　bell　of　time　continues　to　swing　for　me。　　Greatness　consists　not　in　the　holding　of　some　future　office；　but　really　consists　in　doing　great　deeds　with　little　means　and　the　accomplishment　of　vast　purposes　from　the　private　ranks　of　life。　　To　be　great　at　all　one　must　be　great　here；　now；　in　Philadelphia。　　He　who　can　give　to　this　city　better　streets　and　better　sidewalks；　better　schools　and　more　colleges；　more　happiness　and　more　civilization；　more　of　God；　he　will　be　great　anywhere。　　Let　every　man　or　woman　here；　if　you　never　hear　me　again；　remember　this；　that　if　you　wish　to　be　great　at　all；　you　must　begin　where　you　are　and　what　you　are；　in　Philadelphia；　now。　　He　that　can　give　to　his　city　any　blessing；　he　who　can　be　a　good　citizen　while　he　lives　here；　he　that　can　make　better　homes；　he　that　can　be　a　blessing　whether　he　works　in　the　shop　or　sits　behind　the　counter　or　keeps　house；　whatever　be　his　life；　he　who　would　be　great　anywhere　must　first　be　great　in　his　own　Philadelphia。



HIS　LIFE　AND　ACHIEVEMENTS　BY　ROBERT　SHACKLETON


THE　STORY　OF　THE　SWORD＇2＇


＇2＇　　_Dr；　Conwell　was　living；　and　actively　at　work；　when　these　pages　were　written。　　It　is；　therefore；　a　much　truer　picture　of　his　personality　than　anything　written　in　the　past　tense_。


I　SHALL　write　of　a　remarkable　man；　an　interesting　man；　a　man　of　power；　of　initiative；　of　will；　of　persistence；　a　man　who　plans　vastly　and　who　realizes　his　plans；　a　man　who　not　only　does　things　himself；　but　who；　even　more　important　than　that；　is　the　constant　inspiration　of　others。　　I　shall　write　of　Russell　H。　Conwell。

As　a　farmer's　boy　he　was　the　leader　of　the　boys　of　the　rocky　region　that　was　his　home；　as　a　school…　teacher　he　won　devotion；　as　a　newspaper　correspondent　he　gained　fame；　as　a　soldier　in　the　Civil　War　he　rose　to　important　rank；　as　a　lawyer　he　developed　a　large　practice；　as　an　author　he　wrote　books　that　reached　a　mighty　total　of　sales。　　He　left　the　law　for　the　ministry　and　is　the　active　head　of　a　great　church　that　he　raised　from　nothingness。　　He　is　the　most　popular　lecturer　in　the　world　and　yearly　speaks　to　many　thousands。　　He　is；　so　to　speak；　the　discoverer　of　‘‘Acres　of　Diamonds；''　through　which　thousands　of　men　and　women　have　achieved　success　out　of　failure。　　He　is　the　head　of　two　hospitals；　one　of　them　founded　by　himself；　that　have　cared　for　a　host　of　patients；　both　the　poor　and　the　rich；　irrespective　of　race　or　creed。　　He　is　the　founder　and　head　of　a　university　that　has　already　had　tens　of　thousands　of　students。　　His　home　is　in　Philadelphia；　but　he　is　known　in　every　corner　of　every　state　in　the　Union；　and　everywhere　he　has　hosts　of　friends。　　All　of　his　life　he　has　helped　and　inspired　others。

Quite　by　chance；　and　only　yesterday；　literally　yesterday　and　by　chance；　and　with　no　thought　at　the　moment　of　Conwell　although　he　had　been　much　in　my　mind　for　some　time　past；　I　picked　up　a　thin　little　book　of　description　by　William　Dean　Howells；　and；　turning　the　pages　of　a　chapter　on　Lexington；　old　Lexington　of　the　Revolution；　written；　so　Howells　had　set　down；　in　1882；　I　noticed；　after　he　had　written　of　the　town　itself；　and　of　the　long…past　fight　there；　and　of　the　present…　day　aspect；　that　he　mentioned　the　church　life　of　the　place　and　remarked　on　the　striking　advances　made　by　the　Baptists；　who　had　lately；　as　he　expressed　it；　been　reconstituted　out　of　very　perishing　fragments　and　made　strong　and　flourishing；　under　the　ministrations　of　a　lay　preacher；　formerly　a　colonel　in　the　Union　army。　　And　it　was　only　a　few　days　before　I　chanced　upon　this　description　that　Dr。　Conwell；　the　former　colonel　and　former　lay　preacher；　had　told　me　of　his　experiences　in　that　little　old　Revolutionary　town。

Howells　went　on　to　say　that；　so　he　was　told；　the　colonel's　success　was　principally　due　to　his　making　the　church　attractive　to　young　people。　　Howells　says　no　more　of　him；　apparently　he　did　not　go　to　hear　him；　and　one　wonders　if　he　has　ever　associated　that　lay　preacher　of　Lexington　with　the　famous　Russell　H。　Conwell　of　these　recent　years！

‘‘Attractive　to　young　people。''　　Yes；　one　can　recognize　that　to…day；　just　as　it　was　recognized　in　Lexington。　　And　it　may　be　added　that　he　at　the　same　time　attracts　older　people；　too！　　In　this；　indeed；　lies　his　power。　　He　makes　his　church　interesting；　his　sermons　interesting；　his　lectures　interesting。　　He　is　himself　interesting！　　Because　of　his　being　interesting；　he　gains　attention。　　The　attention　gained；　he　inspires。

Biography　is　more　than　dates。　　Dates；　after　all；　are　but　mile…stones　along　the　road　of　life。　　And　the　most　important　fact　of　Conwell's　life　is　that　he　lived　to　be　eighty…two；　working　sixteen　hours　every　day　for　the　good　of　his　fellow…men。　　He　was　born　on　February　15；　1843born　of　poor　parents；　in　a　low…roofed　cottage　in　the　eastern　Berkshires；　in　Massachusetts。

‘‘I　was　born　in　this　room；''　he　said　to　me；　simply；　as　we　sat　together　recently＇3＇　in　front　of　the　old　fireplace　in　the　principal　room　of　the　little　cottage；　for　he　has　bought　back　the　rocky　farm　of　his　father；　and　has　retained　and　restored　the　little　old　home。　　‘‘I　was　born　in　this　room。　　It　was　bedroom　and　kitchen。　　It　was　poverty。''　　And　his　voice　sank　with　a　kind　of　grimness　into　silence。


＇3＇　_This　interview　took　place　at　the　old　Conwell　farm　in　the　summer　of　1915_。


Then　he　spoke　a　little　of　the　struggles　of　those　long…past　years；　and　we　went　out　on　the　porch；　as　the　evening　shadows　fell；　and　looked　out　over　the　valley　and　stream　and　hills　of　his　youth；　and　he　told　of　his　grandmother；　and　of　a　young　Marylander　who　had　come　to　the　region　on　a　visit；　it　was　a　tale　of　the　impetuous　love　of　those　two；　of　rash　marriage；　of　the　interference　of　parents；　of　the　fierce　rivalry　of　another　suitor；　of　an　attack　on　the　Marylander's　life；　of　passionate　hastiness；　of　unforgivable　words；　of　separation；　of　lifelong　sorrow。　　‘‘Why　does　grandmother　cry　so　often？''　he　remembers　asking　when　he　was　a　little　boy。　　And　he　was　told　that　it　was　for　the　husband　of　her　youth。

We　went　back　into　the　little　house；　and　he　showed　me　the　room　in　which　he　first　saw　John　Brown。　　‘‘I　came　down　early　one　morning；　and　saw　a　huge；　hairy　man　sprawled　upon　the　bed　thereand　I　was　frightened；''　he　says。

But　John　Brown　did　not　long　frighten　him！　　For　he　was　much　at　their　house　after　that；　and　was　so　friendly　with　Russell　and　his　brother　that　there　was　no　chance　for　awe；　and　it　gives　a　curious　side…　light　on　the　character　of　the　stern　abolitionist　that　he　actually；　with　infinite　patience；　taught　the　old　horse　of　the　Conwells　to　go　home　alone　with　the　wagon　after　leaving　the　boys　at　school；　a　mile　or　more　away；　and　at　school…closing　time　to　trot　gently　off　for　them　without　a　driver　when　merely　faced　in　that　direction　and　told　to　go！　　Conwell　remembers　how　John　Brown；　in　training　it；　used　patiently　to　walk　beside　the　horse；　and　control　its　going　and　its　turnings；　until　it　was　quite　ready　to　go　and　turn　entirely　by　itself。

The　Conwell　house　was　a　station　on　the　Underground　Railway；　and　Russell　Conwell　remembers；　when　a　lad；　seeing　the　escaping　slaves　that　his　father　had　driven　across　country　and　temporarily　hidden。　　‘‘Those　were　heroic　days；''　he　says；　quietly。　　‘‘And　once　in　a　while　my　father　let　me　go　with　him。　　They　were　wonderful　night　drives　the　cowering　slaves；　the　darkness　of　the　road；　the　caution　and　the　silence　and　dread　of　it　all。''　　This　underground　route；　he　remembers；　was　from　Philadelphia　to　New　Haven；　thence　to　Springfield；　where　Conwell's　father　would　take　his　charge；　and　onward　to　Bellows　Falls　and　Canada。

Conwell　tells；　too；　of　meeting　Frederick　Douglass；　the　colored　orator；　in　that　little　cottage　in　the　hills。　　‘‘　‘I　never　saw　my　father；'　Douglass　said　one　dayhis　father　was　a　white　man‘and　I　remember　little　of　my　mother　except　that　once　she　tried　to　keep　an　overseer　from　whipping　me；　and　the　lash　cut　across　her　own　face；　and　her　blood　fell　over　me。'

‘‘When　John　Brown　was　captured；''　Conwell　went　on；　‘‘my　father　tried　to　sell　this　place　to　get　a　little　money　to　send　to　help　his　defense。　　But　he　couldn't　sell　it；　and　on　the　day　of　the　execu…　tion　we　knelt　solemnly　here；　from　eleven　to　twelve；　just　praying；　praying　in　silence　for　the　passing　soul　of　John　Brown。　　And　as　we　prayed　we　knew　that　others　were　also　praying；　for　a　church…bell　tolled　during　that　entire　hour；　and　its　awesome　boom　went　sadly　sounding　over　these　hills。''