CYRUS HALL McCORMICK 



was not sordid. He was not cynical. He was 

 not scientific. He was a man of faith and 

 works one of the old-fashioned kind who 

 laid the foundations and built the walls of 

 this republic. 



He felt that he was born into the world with 

 certain things to do. Some of these things 

 were profitable and some of them were not, but 

 he gave as much energy and attention to the 

 one as to the other. In 1859, for instance, he 

 had a factory that was profitable, and a daily 

 paper and a college that were expensive. He 

 was struggling to extend his trade at home and 

 in Europe, to protect his patents, to prevent 

 the war between the North and South, and to 

 maintain the simplicity of the Presbyterian 

 faith. To contend for these interests and 

 principles was his life. He could not have 

 done anything else. It was as natural for him 

 to do so as for a fish to swim or a bird to fly. 

 Once, towards the end of his life, when he was 

 sitting in his great arm-chair, reflecting, he said 

 to his wife, " Nettie, life is a battle." He made 

 this announcement as though it were the dis- 



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