Many a man's strength is in opposition, and when he faileth, he

The words of Francis Bacon strike with the sober force of timeless wisdom: “Many a man’s strength is in opposition, and when he faileth, he grows out of use.” In this sentence lies a deep truth about the nature of human spirit and its relationship to struggle. For man is not sharpened in ease, nor tempered in still waters, but tested and revealed in the face of resistance. It is opposition that calls forth courage, discipline, and ingenuity. Without such trial, the blade of the soul grows dull; and when one falters and does not rise again, he becomes like a tool left to rust, unused and forgotten.

Bacon, philosopher and statesman of the seventeenth century, knew well the storms of political conflict and the trials of ambition. He saw how men rose to greatness not by walking paths of calm, but by facing the winds of rivalry, injustice, and adversity. To him, the strength of character was like the bow that bends only when drawn against tension. Without the pull of resistance, it is useless; without the arrow to release, it serves no purpose. Thus, a man finds his power not in the absence of trial, but in the act of standing against it.

History bears witness to this truth. Consider Abraham Lincoln, who faced endless opposition—from poverty in his youth, from political defeats, from the weight of a divided nation. At every stage, resistance forged his character, honed his resolve, and deepened his compassion. Had he sought only comfort, his greatness would never have appeared. But in opposition, his hidden strength became visible, and in the fiercest trial of his country’s history, he did not fail, but rose to become one of its greatest leaders.

Yet Bacon’s warning is sharp: “when he faileth, he grows out of use.” This is not to say that a single failure condemns a man, but that one who refuses to rise again after failing ceases to grow. To stumble is natural; to surrender to despair is the true death of strength. Like an instrument that is neglected and left unplayed, the spirit that abandons its struggle becomes brittle, its purpose lost. The decline comes not from the failing itself, but from ceasing to strive in the face of it.

The ancients often taught this through parable. The oak grows strong not in sheltered valleys, but on ridges where the winds strike hardest. Each storm deepens its roots, strengthens its trunk, and broadens its crown. But a tree that withers after its first great storm is lost to decay, its wood fit only for the fire. So too is man: his strength is revealed when he withstands his storms. Without resistance, he is fragile; without endurance, he is forgotten.

The lesson is clear: do not flee opposition, nor curse it when it comes. Welcome it as the whetstone of your soul. Know that each difficulty is an invitation to grow, and that your true strength is measured not by comfort but by the trials you endure. And when you fall—as all men fall—rise again. For to fail and continue is still to be of use, but to fail and remain fallen is to let the spirit rot.

Practical action lies before you. Seek not an easy path but a meaningful one. When conflict arises, do not shrink, but lean into it, and let it refine you. When failure strikes, rise quickly, learning from its wound, and turn it into wisdom. Train your body, your mind, and your heart daily against small resistances, so that when the great trials come, you will not falter. Be as the bow, always ready to bend against tension, always prepared to release its arrow.

So let Bacon’s words be remembered: a man’s strength lies in opposition. Resist, endure, and rise again. For as long as you meet your trials with courage, you remain of use—sharpened, alive, and worthy. But if you abandon the struggle, your strength will wither, and your purpose will pass into silence. Choose, then, the path of resistance, and you will find within it the breath of greatness.