Most great men have been born poor. For one in early life to struggle with poverty seems to prepare him in later years to struggle with the big problems that make men great.

To be born amid wealth too often has a softening effect. Pampered with all that money can buy, the rich lad looks to others rather than to his own efforts. Not so with William Howard Taft. Though he was born with a silver spoon in his mouth, as we sometimes say, and fortune smiled upon him, he was never spoiled; but on the contrary he early developed a capacity for hard work, and a willingness to take rather than avoid hard knocks. These, as we shall see, insured his success in later life.

Born as he was in a beautiful home in the aristocratic section of Cincinnati, his boyhood surroundings were almost ideal. Not only was his home provided with every comfort, but it also was one in which culture and refinement reigned. When you are told that young William’s father held the following positions, Judge of the Superior Court of Cincinnati, Secretary of War under President Grant, Attorney General, Minister to Austria and to Russia, you will readily see that the lad’s home life was truly stimulating.

As you study the picture of Mr. Taft, you will observe that he is an extremely large man, weighing nearly 52 three hundred pounds. Unlike many men, he did not become fleshy in his maturer years, but from his boyhood has been large and, as the boys say, fat. When a mere lad he was a plump, chubby, roly-poly chap who was always liked because he was so good-natured. Can you guess the nicknames the other boys gave him? Sometimes they called him “Lubber,” but most of the time he was hailed simply as “Lub.” Big, over-grown boys are sure to be awkward, and “Lub” was no exception. If he started to run across a field with the other boys, he was sure to fall. When they turned to gather him up, they would fairly roll with laughter, declaring that he was too fat to see where he was stepping. The fact that when he fell he was sure “to land on his head,” caused the boys to call him “Lead-Head and Cotton-Body.”

When he entered the Woodward High School, the boys changed his nickname from “Lub” to “Old Bill” and later to plain “Bill.” In high school he was too fat to run, too slow for baseball, and didn’t care for football.

At seventeen he had graduated from high school and was about to enter Yale. Can you imagine him as he enters that great University? With beardless cheeks that were as red as an apple, and able to tip the scales at two hundred thirty pounds, he seemed indeed a giant. No longer was he chubby and awkward; he was now broad shouldered, tall and sure of step. His muscles were so firm that he was a hard antagonist for anyone.

Hardly had he entered school before he got “mixed up” in one of the many college rushes of those days. In that particular rush Taft went crashing through the sophomores like a catapult. One, a man of his own weight, leaped in front of him. Then Taft let forth a joyous roar and charged! He grappled with the other Ajax, lifted him bodily, and heaved him over his head. No wonder he got the nickname of “Bull Taft.”

Of course a chap capable of such a feat must join the football squad, said the fellows of the University. But Bill’s father back in Cincinnati had entirely different plans for the giant freshman. He was eager to have his son win his laurels in the classroom rather than on the gridiron. The father, while in Yale, had won honors, and why shouldn’t his son? Furthermore, Bill had some pride, for already his brother had carried away from Yale high honors in scholarship, and, if possible, Bill was not to be outdone by his brother. Accordingly, he settled down to four years of downright hard work, and “from day to day, lesson by lesson, he slowly made his way close to the head of the class.”

That he acquired, while in college, a relish for hard work is shown by the fact that as soon as he had graduated he undertook three jobs at the same time: he studied law in his father’s law office, carried the regular work of the Cincinnati Law School, and was court reporter for The Times Star of Cincinnati.

So rapid was his achievement that at the age of twenty-four he was made Internal Revenue Collector at a salary of $4500 a year. Surely this was a good salary for a man so young. But other promotions were destined to come in close succession; for, at the age of twenty-nine he was made Judge of the Superior Court of Ohio, and a year later was appointed by President Harrison Solicitor-General of the United States at a salary of $7000 a year.

After three years of service as a Solicitor-General, President Harrison made him Judge of the Federal Court of the Sixth Circuit that included Michigan, Ohio, Kentucky, and Tennessee. As judge of this court, several of the most famous cases in our history came before him, and in every case his power of analysis was so manifest, and his decision so just that the entire nation learned to look to him with confidence. Into his court came, on the one hand employers who were eager for every possible advantage, and were willing to crush labor in order to gain it; and on the other hand laborers who distrusted their employers and were morbid and resentful. To preside over a court where force was thus meeting force, where battle lines were distinctly drawn was no small task. Mr. Taft, however, since he was always fair and kind, since he possessed largeness of vision and pureness of soul, was big enough for the task.

At this time in Judge Taft’s life he seems to have had but one ambition––he desired to become a Judge of the Supreme Court of the United States. But while he was 55 eagerly looking in that direction, his nation was preparing other and greater tasks for him.

Far across the broad Pacific lie the Philippine Islands––more than three thousand of them. On these islands live eight million people. As a result of our war with Spain these islands came into our possession; but what were we to do with them? Representing as they did every stage of development from University graduates to Moro headhunters, the task of governing them was indeed difficult.

Who should be assigned this task? Where was a man big enough to bring order out of confusion and mould these widely divergent tribes into a unified colony?

President McKinley and those in authority with him finally decided that Judge Taft was the man for the place. Accordingly, he was soon seen on the broad Pacific hurrying to the task that awaited him. From island to island he and his commissioners journeyed studying conditions. Everywhere he found the people suspicious and eager to state their grievances. Naturally kind, frank and fair, he so won their confidence that he was soon able to direct their efforts. It is impossible here to tell of his remarkable work in the Islands. As Governor-General he greatly reduced the death rate by introducing sanitary conditions; he established and developed a free public school system, and, most important of all, he trained the Filipinos in the art of self government.

From Governor-General of the Philippines Mr. Taft was made Secretary of War. Fortunately, his experiences 56 in the Islands, in a peculiar manner, fitted him for this new responsibility; for, during his entire sojourn in the Philippines he had come in closest contact with the soldiers. As they at all times were his closest companions, he learned to understand them perfectly. Able to get their viewpoint on all matters pertaining to war, he was able to secure from the start the highest possible cooperation. His greatest single task as Secretary of War was to finish building the Panama Canal, and indeed this was a task; but the Big Man kept at the big job until finally it was completed.

But the crowning event in the life of this great man was his election to the presidency of the United States. Here he was the same frank, genuine man he had always been. Had he been more of a politician he, no doubt, would have gained greater popular favor, but, after all, the approval of the multitudes is not the highest goal to be sought. Above this is fidelity to duty, and this Mr. Taft always possessed in an unusual degree.

With the completion of his term in the White House he did not withdraw from active life as so many ex-presidents have done; on the contrary, he became at once a member of the faculty of his beloved Yale University.

During the great World War, Mr. Taft was made director of the American Red Cross Association, and in 1920 he became the Chief Justice of the United States Supreme Court.