Self-Mads Failure Maurice Switeer /f/r CORNELL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY 924 077 691 958 A Cornell University 9 Library The original of this book is in the Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31 924077691 958 Letters of a Self-Made Failure You can take it from me that a ham sandwich paid for out of your hard-earned cash is a lot more enjoyable than a free ten-course banquet at the swellest hotel in town Letter/ M- Made Eilurc Maurice Jwitzer Ibbatkivf b/ lank Qoimay Barton. Jinall, Maynarct and Company ^ P LI- L ^ Copyright, 19 14 By Small, Maynard and Company (incorporated) TO JAMES A. WALDRON Foreword TV /TUCH has been written about success -*-"■*■ and those who have achieved it. Countless columns of newspaper space and reams of magazine pages have been devoted to accounts of the methods employed by successful persons in the building of their fortunes. Such reading matter is often en- tertaining, but seldom useful material for laying the foundation of a career. Too many personal elements enter into any notable achievement to make the ex- ample of some particular individual serve as a pattern for all men in general. Just as two finger-prints are never exactly alike, so does every nature differ in some respect from every other, and upon that difference — often a relatively small one — may success or failure rest. ix FOREWORD Little in the way of great accomplish- ment has ever been achieved by mere imita- tion. Personality, temperament, mental and physical efficiency and environment differ as to individuals, and conditions under which success is possible to-day may be altered to- morrow. Those are the determining factors of success more certainly than any fixed rules and regulations, except where sheer luck — which rarely takes a hand — decides. Anyway, it is less important to know how one man attained great success than it is to understand why a thousand men be- came utter failures. If nine-tenths, of the world (it may be more or less) is unsuccessful, according to the popular standard of success, and has ever been so, then it is probably in the scheme of Nature to have it that way; it is not accident but design. And if it be so ordained, it is reasonable to believe that those of us who form this mighty majority occupy positions which are just as important to the progress and development of the FOREWORD world as the places held by the favored few who rule it. Every man cannot be great, but most men, if they knew their limitations, could be greatly useful ; and no man who is useful is a failure. To that great multitude, then, who think they have missed the shining mark, this book is addressed. It is not a guide to success, but rather a brief to prove that failure is often psychological ; that every man has a place in the world, and that it is within his power and ability to ornament that place, provided he is not trying to be somebody else. XI The author acknowledges the kind per- mission of the editors of Leslie s Weekly \ in which these letters were first printed, to publish them in book form. xn Contents PAGE I A young man of boundless energy lands his first good job and receives his elder brother's felicitations and a tip on the family weak- ness 17 II A dirge may be better music, but it doesn't appeal to the average youthful imagination like tuneful ragtime 29 III Obstacles are very often discouraging, but surmounting them is pretty good exercise . 45 IV A fellow who has to borrow $50. to sup- port the theory that he is superior to his house, does n't seem like a reliable authority on efficiency eg V When a man is without a job and in debt and refuses a position because it 's too small for him, he probably needs the attention of a specialist in cerebral diseases 77 VI After a colt has pulled a drag around for an hour or so, he is usually willing to stand without hitching 91 VII Taking a side-line is like courting two girls ; you 're bound to be found out and lose the better one, and you '11 never be happy with the other one 109 xiii CONTENTS PAGE VIII When a man refuses to take a vacation because he's afraid to trust things to others, he needs to be systematized more than his business 131 IX Good clothes help some, but a business man's apparel should n't attract more at- tention than his conversation iaq X When you can afford to buy everything you need you never seem to need any- thing 167 XIV Illustrations PAGE You can take it from me that a ham sandwich paid for out of your hard-earned cash is a lot more enjoyable than a free ten-course banquet at the swellest hotel in town .... Frontispiece Blowing in all you make to keep up with a bunch that' can buy and sell you, in the hope that their influence will land you in a soft or a lucrative job, is only one form of gambling . 25 Many people measure success by dollars ... 33 No man who is cut out for a boss ever works long for someone else, not if he's really it . . . 37 The house pet is a sort of commercial accident that is likely to occur in the most perfectly regulated business 49 It's the cheerful lad with a ready smile whose society is mostly in demand 88 I've known some pretty big men who swallowed flattery like a hungry bass grabs a minnow . 103 Even though the boss is apparency willing that you take on outside work, the mere fact that other interests are claiming your attention will event- ually create the impression that he is not getting your maximum efficiency 113 XV ILLUSTRATIONS PAGE The village swells passed us up as though we had measles in the family 120 By all means take your vacation. The more you are missed at the office the warmer will be your welcome on your return 1 39 He carried a stick and a letter of introduction which certified to the fact that Mr. J. Wel- lington Whimple was a friend of yours . . 153 He told me also that you were aces up with the swellest little skirt in all Manhattan . . . 157 It's pretty tough for a single man to be broke and out of work, but if you want to get the real definition of suffering, ask a married man how it feels to be in that position 1 61 I was worried to death over the expense and felt as though I should have been paying my bills with the railroad fare 1 71 XVI ^/l young man of bound- less energy lands his first good job and receives his elder brother * s felicitations and a tip on the family weakness "FRANK GODWIN LETTERS OF A SELF-MADE FAILURE Oldburg, Jan. 15, 19 12. Dear Bob: I'm certainly delighted to learn that you have landed so happily, and from the way you put it, I'm inclined to agree with you that this is the first real oppor- tunity that has rung your front door bell since you began to shift for yourself in the Big Town. I'm going to give you some advice; it isn't a very tangible gift, but it cost me a lot of money to be able to offer it, so you needn't consider it cheap. I don't expect you to follow it. Fol- lowing never ran in our family; we're all leaders — or we think we are. That idea began with a certain pater- nal ancestor of ours who led a detach- 19 LETTERS OF ment of Red Coats to magnificent defeat during the Revolutionary War, and it has continued down the line in varying forms until yours truly led your sister- in-law to the altar. Since then we've both led a desultory existence, and until recently I was considered one of the leading failures in the Empire State. Emily never shared that opinion ; she always thought I was unlucky, and never could understand why a person of my prodigious ability hadn't amassed a fortune when so many less clever men had rolled up millions. Like most good women, Emily is prejudiced in favor of those she loves; but I know what's the matter, only I found it out about fifteen years too late to capitalize the information. The trouble with me was unbounded confidence in my ability, with no ap- preciation of my limitations. I'm afraid you have a taint of the same disease; it's hereditary; so I'm go- 20 A SELF-MADE FAILURE ing to hang out a red light to keep you from tripping over yourself. I have no desire to dim your enthu- siasm — not the slightest. Enthusiasm is a fine thing when founded on reason, but there are several brands of that article, so I don't think an awful lot of it per se. In a young woman enthusiasm is called vivacity, which is attractive enough in the parlor, but not much good in the kitchen when you haven't the price of a hired girl. Enthusiasm in a mob is called frenzy, which has changed many a map — human and geographical — and not always to the best advantage. Enthusiasm without experience is what led your misguided pup to grab Hen- derson's bulldog by the tail, and you remember what happened to the pup. So go right along and get up steam, but keep your hand on the throttle. In the language of old Doc Johnson, you are towering in the confidence of 21 LETTERS OF twenty-four, and are apt to get the opin- ion that all slow movers are tottering to the tomb. I presume that's what you meant to convey in your statement that, after surveying the force of the Hop- kins Co., you couldn't detect a real, live one on the pay-roll. If they are all as dead as you suspect, then, my boy, it looks as though the outfit you're hitched up to is not a business house but a morgue, and you're headed straight for Potter's Field. However, I happen to know the con- cern, and judging from their standing commercially I'm inclined to believe that there are several live wires con- nected with the institution that you must have overlooked; so I advise you to be careful, or you may step on one where there's no insulation and get a shock. You can't measure everything with a speedometer. It took the Santa Maria about seventy-one days to cross the At- lantic the first time. In five days the ■2 2 A SELF-MADE FAILURE Lusitania now goes a lot further; but that little old tub with Admiral Chris. Columbus aboard will be fresh in the memory of men when the ocean grey- hound is in the scrapheap of oblivion. Keep your mind on your job, not on the other help ; let your boss watch them, and don't get in the habit of comparing yourself with others, unless you're big and broad enough to give yourself the worst of it. No man ever went far wrong in underestimating his own abil- ities and overestimating the talents of the other fellow; but there's often a big surprise in store for the chap who plays that combination the other way around. Be modest. I know it's a little out of fashion in New York, but for that very reason somebody may notice you. You say you're anxious to make real money so you may cultivate some in- fluential acquaintances. I've been all through that and there's nothing in it. Blowing in all you make to keep up 23 A SELF-MADE FAILURE with a bunch that can buy and sell you, in the hope that their influence will land you in a soft or a lucrative job, is only one form of gambling. It's playing futures; about like buying grain or cotton or stocks on margin. I used to believe that no man ever made big money by the simple process of saving it. It was my impression that the very rich got that way by making more than they could spend. Well, I never succeeded in grabbing more than I could spend, because the more I made the more it cost me to keep pace with the crowd I trailed with, and one day when I was stone-broke I found out that "big money" was a two-dollar bill. Wealth, like poverty and other trouble. is merely comparative. I had the wrong viewpoint. Instead of trying to earn more than I could spend, I should have simply spent less than I was earning. I may not have grown very rich that way, but I would 24 A SELF-MADE FAILURE have acquired a lot more coin and con- siderably less experience. Experience is a mighty good thing, but it's like an automobile. To get it you have to pay the top price, and when you want to sell it you can't collect twenty-five cents on the dollar. Expe- rience is the cheapest thing on the mar- ket, and if you don't believe it look at the want ads in any newspaper. Take it from me, Bob, if you ever make "real money," don't invest it all in friendships; put some of it in the bank. Of course at twenty-four a fellow's mind is on his pay envelope, and Satur- day night is the big event of the week. At forty-eight it's the saddest day, be- cause if a man of that age is still on somebody's pay-roll, pay day only marks the passing of another week — seven days away from youth and efficiency and that much nearer the bread-line. . This may sound like sad stuff, but I 27 A SELF-MADE FAILURE want it to sink in and make an impres- sion on you, so that you'll not be disap- pointed in yourself and get to look on life as a tough proposition — because it isn't. And the surest way I know to help you make good is to teach you to put the brakes on ambition. Take it easy — not too easy, but make haste slowly — and open a bank account. Your affectionate brother, Jim. 2'8' */l dirge may be better music, but it doesrtt appeal to the average youthful imagination like tuneful ragtime Oldburg, March 12, 1912. Dear Bob : For a fellow who is always boosting the expeditious and advocating the swift, you didn't break any speed rec- ords in answering my letter. You say it sounded like the sob of a lost soul, and that my philosophy sets a premium on mediocrity; that every man should endeavor to develop the best that's in him and strive to eventually create something for himself. Your first objection proves that you're tone-deaf, and your second sounds like a paragraph of that syndicated stuff in the Sunday papers. Concerning dirges, permit me to call your polite attention to the fact that Chopin's Funeral March is a sad tune, but it's finer music than the best-selling rag-time melody you ever whistled. 31 A SELF-MADE FAILURE I'm afraid you took me too literally. I told you that I was considered the foremost failure in the Empire State, but I didn't say I admitted it. Success, like nearly everything else in the world, is merely a matter of opinion and largely a question of geography. The bootblack, who quits his job with money enough to set up a stand of his own, and makes good, is just as much of a success as the banker to whom he pays rent. The banker, if he stays in busi- ness, has to hustle just as the bootblack must work, and all work is labor, whether it be clean or dirty, mental or physical. Lots of people measure success by dol- lars; but there is many a man with a pile of dollars who hasn't made a suc- cess of his life. Because I didn't succeed in getting away with some of the things I tackled didn't prove that I was a failure. It only showed that I had more industry 32 Many people measure success by dollars A SELF-MADE FAILURE than judgment. I was aiming at cer- tain marks that were entirely beyond the range of my mental artillery. The only real signs of intelligence that I dis- played was when I began to get wise to the fact that I had limitations. I now know that had I applied the special ability I possessed in consistently helping somebody else to make good, I might have been jointly successful with the other fellow, albeit less renowned; and, as Omar puts it, I could have taken the cash and let the credit go. As it turned out, I got neither. The trouble is this: we never appre- ciate a truth until we try to combat it; and a mistake is never an error until it has been made. I'm not setting a premium on medi- ocrity. The truth of the matter is that most of us are mediocre or downright dummies, only we don't know it. I'm setting a premium on self-analysis. A really great man is never fettered 35 A SELF-MADE FAILURE by circumstances. You can't keep genius handcuffed, and if you're made of the stuff that produces Lincolns or Edisons or Carnegies, your success will not be hampered by anything I can say; you'll succeed in spite of it. No man who is cut out for a boss ever works long for someone else — not if he's really it. The fact, however, that there are so many more clerks than bosses proves how shy of executive ability most people are. What I'm trying to do is make you find out your own limitations without buying the knowledge at the top price. I want you to succeed, to advance, to better your position, and nothing that I have written you is opposed to that end; but if you can't size up yourself any better than you have measured me, you're a bad judge of human nature, and a correct judgment of men is one of the great essentials to success. The trouble with most of us is that 36 •a bo B O <2 s s o A SELF-MADE FAILURE we are not on the level with ourselves. If we could get into some dark corner and have a confidential look at the inner man and see ourselves, not as others see us — for that might be a prejudiced view — but as we really are — a lot of us would lay aside the hammer and take up the spade. If all of this is putting a premium on mediocrity, then truth is nothing and the cheerful liar is a philanthropist. I want you to be ambitious, old man, but that word covers a multitude of sins. Be as ambitious as you like, but remain within the limits of your talent and capabilities. Most businesses today are duplicated to such an extent that trade has become largely a competition of brains. Ideas and ingenuity count for more than mer- chandise ; so if you possess the rare crea- tive faculty, you can employ your genius more profitably and to better advantage by giving your house the benefit of it 39 LETTERS OF than in attempting at your age to utilize it in the creation of something for your- self. This is, fortunately or unfortunately, an age of big business. The day has passed when a man with plenty of genius and no money can create anything en- during for himself exclusively. Money talks; and when it does it is apt to use disagreeable and harsh language. Money, however, is always looking for men with ideas, and there are more big jobs to be had right now than there are capable men to fill them. There is as much romance in busi- ness as there is in love, and when you talk about "creating something for your- self" you are merely giving scope to your imagination and indulging in day- dreams instead of thinking of your work in an endeavor to do it better and more intelligently. There are lots of fellows who spend a heap of valuable time and much gray 40 A SELF-MADE FAILURE matter trying to invent some device that will make them rich quickly, when half the thought devoted to some modest commercial enterprise would yield cer- tain returns, absolute independence and possibly opulence. The Patent Office is filled to overflowing with useful in- ventions that have died in the dusty pigeonholes for lack of proper market- ing. But marketing means money and work — hard, prosaic, monotonous effort — the kind of labor that is shunned by the fellow with an active mind but lazy hands. Don't think that I'm trying to dis- courage ambition. I believe that you should look ahead and not behind, but don't -strain your eyesight; remember that there is a "middle distance" to every landscape. Lots of fellows have overlooked an opportunity simply because they were too close to it. Don't be like the sick man who heard 4i LETTERS OF of the curative properties of the waters of Karlsbad and went there to take them. After he arrived he consulted a physician who carefully diagnosed his case and then told him that his particu- lar ailment would respond better to the waters of a certain spring in America. "Which spring?" asked the patient. "One of the springs in Saratoga," replied the doctor. "That's certainly tough 1" said the sufferer, "I live in Albany." If you're made of the right stuff you'll find plenty of room to create something for yourself in the job you've got; you can grow just as big there as you can in something of your own building. They say that opportunity knocks once at every man's door. I don't know the name of the scientist who managed to get such a fine line on the habits of opportunity; but if opportunity does an- nounce itself, the chances are that it misses many a door, and in some cases, 42 A SELF-MADE FAILURE when it does knock, I presume, "there's nobody at home." My impression is that opportunity as a rule doesn't knock at all — or very rarely. Opportunity consists of thinking, doing, having plenty of patience and perseverance, possessing the ability to size up a situation and having the nerve and willingness to take advantage of it. "Creating something for yourself" is a spectacular phrase and at your age it sounds hysterical. I suppose that if you had to choose between being an eagle or a hen, you'd pick the eagle. The eagle is a high-flyer and is the symbol of both freedom and subjection — the emblem of republics and mon- archies — but the real eagle is a bird of prey that everybody loves to take a shot at. The only difference between him and the buzzard is that the eagle eats 'em alive, and is therefore less useful. The hen, on the other hand, is an indus- 43 A SELF-MADE FAILURE trious biped that provides us with eggs and spring chickens, and a dozen hens have more economic value than all the eagles on all the royal standards of the world. Yet nobody has ever pictured the hen on a silver dollar or carved her likeness in imperishable rock. No, I'm not boosting Votes for Women. I'm only trying to prove to you that it's the spectacular, not the useful, that appeals to the populace. But the populace is fickle and unappreciative. Think this over. Your affectionate brother, Jim. 44 Ill yjbstacles are very often discouraging, but surmount- ing them is pretty good ex- ercise Oldburg, July 6, 191 2. Dear Bob : If you think you can make me sore by sending news of your advancement to a managership, go right along and rub it in. Bob, old man, my lid is off, my mitt is out; I salute you! You write that you could make things hum were it not for a couple of house pets who are not only non-productive but actual obstructions in the way of progress. All I have to say in reply to that is that you're a poor manager if you can't make things hum in spite of them. Leadership consists in the ability to bring order out of chaos ; knowing how to pick up a lot of loose ends and weave them into definite form. It stands to reason that there must be weakness in any body of men that is willing to be 47 A SELF-MADE FAILURE led ; that very weakness is your strength, and yet you complain of it. A real leader must inspire confidence and enthusiasm. He ought to be human enough to sympathize with the short- comings of his followers and strong enough to command ready compliance from the rank and file who depend upon him for those qualities which they lack: force, initiative, ingenuity, purpose and action. Real leadership must produce, not pose. Gold lace never won a battle. Sitting in a swivel chair on a Turkish rug before a mahogany desk and wear- ing a wise look, a wrinkled brow, and complaining about the quality of your help or the dullness of trade will never get you anywhere. If a man is wrong, don't throw him ■ — show him. Noise isn't reason. There isn't any harmony in the bass drum un- less it beats in rhythmic unison with the rest of the instruments in the band ; and there's no success in business unless the 48 A SELF-MADE FAILURE whole organization is keeping step, with high spirits and colors flying. Don't criticise — analyze. Anybody can find fault; it's dead easy to tear down, but to build requires skill. Criticism is de- structive and discouraging; suggestion is constructive and inspiring. Don't roast — reason. If business is bad there must be a cause; find it; you'll discover it if you know your book, and a correct diagnosis — unless the disease is fatal — is half the cure. The house pet is a sort of commercial accident that is likely to occur in the most perfectly regulated business. House pets have their uses by eventually proving a background for the brilliance of real ability. In the old days kings had their fools, and some of them were not so foolish as they looked, and others were more foolish. Later monarchs had their fav- orites, and often they played the deuce with government, but just as frequently; 5i LETTERS OF government played the mischief with the favorite. The bigger the ship the more room for barnacles, and the larger the busi- ness the more room for simple efficiency to masquerade in the guise of command- ing ability; but whether the craft be nautical or commercial, there comes a time when she has to have her hull scraped or lose her speed. It's always discouraging to a hustler to see a dead one drawing good money, but when you begin to feel that way, just compare your joy — the joy of well- rendered service — with the anxious state of mind' of the four-flusher who is al- ways beset by the dread that somebody will get his number; think of that, old top, and you'll draw much consolation from the reflection. The man who takes cash that doesn't belong to him is a thief, and the man who takes money and gives nothing in return is a beggar; neither one is happy. 52 A SELF-MADE FAILURE You've seen the balloon filled with hot air go up, but if you stuck around long enough you also saw it come down. Nothing lasts without continual effort; if it does it's either a ruin or a curiosity. Tie up your perfectly good arm for a few months and when you remove the bandage it will be useless. Easy jobs make incompetents of those who fill them; that's the hustler's consolation, as well as part of his compensation. Only fools stick to sinecures. On gen- eral principles nothing comes easy that's worth having. What is easily had is lightly treasured and therefore easily lost. As I said before, the bigger the house the more opportunity for incompetence. It's only in the small shop, where they count the stamps in the cash drawer nightly, that you'll find everybody toe- ing the scratch : they have to, to pay the rent. Sometimes a big institution maintains 53 LETTERS OF a few incompetents for the sake of past efficiency. When they do it's the sign of poor business policy, but a good heart. If that's the trouble with your house don't discourage it. There are entirely too few humanitarians in business as it is. Stick to them. If, on the other hand, back numbers are maintained for lack of discernment on the part of the head of the house, don't let that worry you. This same weakness may stand you in good stead when you happen to make a few bad breaks — and you will make mistakes unless you quit doing things. You mustn't expect to have everything your own way; nobody ever has. Every job has its drawbacks, and this you may discover some day when you quit a fair position for a worse one. Personally, I think you ought to be thankful for the fact that everyone in your concern is not an ace; if they were all top-notchers, probably there 54 A SELF-MADE FAILURE wouldn't be any room for you to expand. . Certainly you'd have to be several times better than you are to make an impres- sion. I'd rather take my chances any time in a house full of mediocre people than in one where everybody knew as much as or more than I did. "In the country of the blind a one-eyed man is king:" Forget those dead ones. Plug along with your eye on the job higher up, and if you fail to land, and not for any lack of earnest effort, console yourself with the reflection that few people in this vale of tears ever get what's coming to them either in the way of reward or punishment. Even your bosses are up against it, for by your Own admission they are not getting the service they are paying for. In heaven's name don't provide your- self with a set of ready reasons against possible failure. Your house pets may be obstruc- 55 LETTERS OF tions in the way of progress, but if you set them the proper example of effi- ciency you can make them so uncom- fortable that they will hunt other jobs. Don't stop at obstacles, surmount them; the tougher they are the more exercise you'll get. Any way you look at it, it's better to fall down than to lay down. A good mechanic can manage somehow even with inferior tools, but a poor workman will do a botched job with the best instruments in the world. No man can rise above his limitations, and we all have them; but there's no disgrace in failure when you've done your best. Your personal work will tell its own story, but even if it's good there's no cer- tainty that your reward will be in pro- portion to your worth. Injustice, un- fairness and selfishness are all in the game and you've got to learn to take them philosophically. Failure to do your best is your fault; failure to get a S 6 A SELF-MADE FAILURE just recompense is your misfortune ; that you can't help and no man should worry about something which is beyond his control. But I've noticed one. thing. In most cases where an employer fails to recog- nize real ability in an employee, some competitor with foresight and insight grabs the man. Of course it doesn't fol- low that this will happen to you, but no fellow who keeps his health, his job and an increasing balance in the bank need worry one way or the other. Life is full of hard knocks, and many of them leave us pretty sore spots; but a little ready money is a mighty fine ointment in most cases. I hope your future will prove to be as rosy as you picture it in your fondest dreams, but don't discount it by spend- ing all you make in the belief that some day you will be making more than you can spend; I told you what happened to me. 57 A SELF-MADE FAILURE Prospects are pleasant reflections, but to bank on them is to believe in dreams ; they are both made of the same stuff. At the age of twenty-four, with two- thirds of life still before him, a man talks of prospects as tangible assets. When he gets to be twice that age he knows better. The future is mighty poor collateral when you're in the hole* it's about as helpful as the track trophy you won at college, but not nearly so negotiable. Prospects are the ten-pins of desire set up in the alley of hope, down which rolls the uncertain ball of chance. A ten-strike is usually an accident. Good luck to you, old man, and may you prove to be the one real credit to our ancient name. Who knows but in our veins there courses the blood of great commercial giants and captains of industry? Your affectionate brother, Jim. 58 IF ^nt fellow who has to bor- row $50 to support the theory that he is superior to his house, does rCt seem like a reliable authority on efficiency OLDBURG, Oct. 12, 191 2. Dear Bob : I've just returned from a three- months' trip and find your letter among my unpaid bills — where I usually keep wedding invitations. I don't know how it got there, but from the fancy envelope I presume somebody thought it would cost me money to open it. Whoever got that idea had an inspiration. I inclose a check for the fifty you asked for, and I am less worried, old chap, about your returning it than I am over your need of it. Apparently I've been wasting per- fectly good advice, to say nothing of time and stationery. In spite of all I've written you've laid down like a quitter — ducked, because you couldn't con- vince the boss that you knew more about 61 LETTERS OF running a successful business than the fellows who helped him build it. You say the concern was hampered by dead wood and was unprogressive. Of course you're entitled to an opinion, and maybe you are right, but I .don't think an awful lot of your judgment. You led me to believe when you first connected that it was a great oppor- tunity — the first you ever had. If you made a mistake then you're just as likely to be wrong now. A fellow who can't tell an opportunity when he sees one doesn't strike me as being an infallible judge of that most complex of all things, human nature. But you expect to land another posi- tion which you say offers greater scope for your ability and brighter future. How about the present? Suppose in three months or three years you find you've made another mistake? What are you going to do right now to provide against such a contingency? Will you 62 A SELF-MADE FAILURE need fifty dollars, or will you have laid aside five hundred? It's the cheerful lad with a ready smile whose society is mostly in demand, and the only time that kind of a smile is really on the level is when it lights up the countenance of a fellow who knows that tomorrow needn't worry him. Opportunity? Why, man, it's every- where — opportunity to get on and suc- ceed in a modest way. But it isn't op- portunity that most of us are looking for, it's omnipotence, ready made. When I was a kid I held a job with a Buffalo concern where it was the custom to advance employees in the order of their length of service. When a vacancy occurred higher up, the first call was given to the man who had been in the company's employ long- est of those in the line below. This rule applied all the way down to the errand boys. Of the latter there were two, and I was one of the fleet-footed Mercuries, 63 LETTERS OF having qualified for that important posi- tion about three months before my run- ning mate appeared on the scene. We had a shipping clerk who was the son of a rich father, so it didn't matter much whether he toiled or not. This chap was in the habit of dolling up on Saturdays and disappearing about noon. In those days Saturday was not a half holiday, but Sylvester — which wasn't his name — wouldn't show up again un- til the following Monday morning. Sylvester was an agreeable chap, with nice, easy manners, and he tried to get me to do his work on those particular afternoons so that he wouldn't be missed, but I couldn't see it. He was getting ten dollars a week and I was drawing down four. His business was filling in shipping forms, routing freight and re- ceiving goods and it took head work and experience to hold the job. My declination to act as accessory to the er- rant Sylvester was not prompted by any 64 " A SELF-MADE FAILURE high moral principle; I couldn't see where I came in to learn his business and labor at it while he enjoyed himself and copped the coin. Freckles, my side partner, was an easy mark who was always doing something for somebody as a matter of accommo- dation, so he fell for Sylvester's sophis- try and learned to fill in the bills of lading and to master much of the other detail. He kept at it until he became so proficient that Sylvester felt able to add every Wednesday to his periods of recreation without fear of finding on his return that the company had gone into the hands of a receiver as the direct result of his neglect. One day the boss took an afternoon off to see Lawrence Barrett give a matinee performance of "David Gar- rick," and as the "Old Man" took his seat in the theater he lamped Mr. Sylvester about three rows ahead of him. 6S LETTERS OF The next day there was a vacancy in the shipping department and in the fore- noon the "Old Man" haled me before him. "Jimmy," said he, "we've decided to have a new shipping clerk and you're in line for the position ; can you fill it?" I saw ten dollars a week making faces at me and I grew nervous. "I guess I can, sir," I finally stam- mered. "I don't want you to guess," said the boss sternly. "Can you do the work — right now?" I had to admit that at that particular moment I couldn't qualify. He summoned Freckles while I stood there. "Freckles," began the boss, "Jimmy has been here a little longer than you have, so I've offered him the job of shipping clerk first, but he isn't posi- tive that he can hold it down; now do you think you can?" 66 A SELF-MADE FAILURE "Sure thing!" replied Freckles right off the bat. "Why are you so certain?" "Because," said Freckles with' a grin, "I been doin' the work for three months so's Mr. Sylvester could attend to some of his personal business." "All right," said the Boss with a smile, "you're the shipping clerk from today on and your salary is ten dollars a week; don't have too much 'personal business' outside the shop." And he didn't. Twenty years later he was one of the bosses. I told you that the family obsession was leadership, and that the taint was in your blood. We have all wanted to make "names" for ourselves. Well, somebody else makes the name and it begins with an "F," ends with an "L" and the middle letters represent the sum total of our ability as compared with the real stuff that makes for greatness. Lead? Why, the average man hasn't 67 LETTERS OF the qualifications to lead anything but a fox-terrier. I think it was Emerson who said that there came a time in the experience of every man when he learned that envy was ignorance and imitation suicide. That time does arrive, only it usually comes around so late in life that the knowledge doesn't help much. You've been reading the wrong stuff. There's too much sunshine poetry and optimistic bunk being painted these days. I've worked on a newspaper, and I know. A good deal of that kind of matter emanates from a brand of philos- opher whose principal qualifications consist of a little education, some imagi- nation, a flow of words and a colossal gall. Some of the fellows who write discourses on "Hope," "Truth," "Op- timism" and "Opportunity" own a code of morals that ought to be dragged out with a bale-hook into the back yard and fumigated. 68 A SELF-MADE FAILURE Those are the bards who tell you to study the lives of the illustrious dead or point to our great living geniuses as glittering examples for the emulation of every American youth. Running a close second in impracticability is the fond parent who hopes his or her pin- headed offspring may some day become President of the United States, when the boy probably hasn't the inherent mental capacity to be doorkeeper of the White House. Many a good laborer has been spoiled in the making of a bad lawyer. Really great men are born only occa- sionally, but the country is overflowing with men of ordinary ability, which, if properly applied, would bring the pos- sessors comfort and some degree of happiness. When fellows like you and me fall down it isn't because we're failures. It's only because we waste and scatter our ordinary talents in attempts to at- 69 LETTERS OF tain the extraordinary — objects which are entirely beyond our reach — and things we wouldn't be happy with if we got. The fellow in a good position, who by his energy, application and loyalty assists in the upbuilding of some great enterprise, is just as big in a way as the enterprise itself. The printing press is a wonderful piece of mechanism, but there isn't a cam or a cog in the whole device that isn't essential to the per- fect working of the complete machine. Every part serves its purpose and is just as important proportionately as the power that drives it. You complained some time ago that I was setting a premium on mediocrity. The great multitude, my boy, isn't even mediocre; it's absolutely ignorant — and a lot of the ignoramuses have good educations. Learning isn't necessarily knowledge, and illiteracy doesn't always spell stupidity. . 7o A SELF-MADE FAILURE I'm for the mediocre man; for more literature that will hold out some hope to him and bring home to him the truth that he is just as important to the world's progress as the greatest captain of in- dustry that ever scuttled a corporation or wrecked a railroad. Future? Forget it, old man; look after the present and the future will take care of itself. Your affectionate brother, Jim. ' 7i V rV hen a man is without a job and in debt and re- fuses a position because it 'j too small for hint) he prob- ably needs the attention of a specialist on cerebral dis- eases Oldburg, Dec. i, 1912. Dear Bob : That you haven't returned the fifty doesn't worry me a minute. Had you failed to refer to it I might have been in doubt, but the fact that the obligation is still on your mind is a hopeful sign. A fellow may be unable to pay his obligations, but he should always be able to remember them. Many a man has gone broke and still kept the respect of his creditors. You can get along without credit if you retain your honor, but he's in a bad fix who loses both. You write that you have turned down a job with a small house because you feared it would stamp you as a cheap man and perhaps militate against your connecting with a big concern later. Your logic is warped. The view you take is merely the triumph of pride over 75 LETTERS OF reason. No idle man who is compelled to borrow money ought to turn down any honest job, and the fellow who makes his environment the excuse for remaining little lacks the very essen- tials that make a big man in any position. Most men who have amounted to anything started with nothing but abil- ity and determination — a combination which recognizes no man-made limi- tations. I know what it is to be broke and in the hole, and you can take it from me that a ham sandwich paid for out of your hard-earned cash is a lot more en- joyable than a free ten-course banquet at the swellest hotel in town, when you're out of a job and haven't a sou in your jeans! No man ever went broke taking profits, and every day you're out of work is a loss of that day's proceeds. Any kind of work is better than idle- .76 A SELF-MADE FAILURE ness, which is directly responsible for most of the unhappiness in this world. Idleness is a dangerous thing; it may grow into a habit that might stick to you after you get back in harness, and the man who loafs on his job is only fooling himself. Eternal, intelligent effort is the price of commercial growth, and where there is no progression there is bound to be retrogression. Business is something like aeroplaning; to stop is to drop, and to drop is generally to bust. No house that tolerates inefficiency can endure. Nearly everything in the universe moves, from the brooklets to the sea ; it's the stagnant pool that stinks. A live house may for a time overlook inefficiency here and there in the organi- zation, but only temporarily. The wide- awake concern usually gets wise to those who are delivering the goods, and when that time comes the sleeper gets what's coming to him. So no matter how you 77 LETTERS OF look at it, there's no percentage of profit in loafing in or out of a job. If I had an enemy, and wanted to get even with him, I could wish him noth- ing worse than to land in a soft job and get the loafing habit. It would only be a question of time before he or the job is petered out, and the longer he held on the worse off he'd be in the end ; for there is a law of compensation which somehow or other makes us work in old age for the time we waste in youth, or suffer if we can't make good. Pin your faith to this law of compen- sation, but don't take any stock in the law of chance; there's no such thing. Waiting for something to turn up in the belief that things are bound to come your way eventually is throwing dice with fate. Many a good dog never got a decent bone until his teeth were gone. In the foolish period I knew a chap who made it a practice to sit in a five- handed game seven nights in the week 78 A SELF-MADE FAILURE and contribute his total daily earnings on six of them. He knew the rules of the game, too, and he had everybody's sympathy, for he certainly owned a streak of hard luck that would have dis- couraged legitimate effort in any other direction long before. But Rudolph was no quitter; he hung on with grim determination and continued with un- varying regularity to play and to pay. One night on the way home I asked him why he didn't quit the game. "It looks like you can't win," said I. "Cut it out — stop for six months anyhow." "Not on your life," replied Rudolph. "This thing's got to break for me some time, and when it does I'm going to be on the works." "It might get worse," I suggested. "Chuck it for six months and it may turn the other way." "Say," said he, "I'm too deep in the hole to waste six months. It's got to get better, I tell you, and when the turn 79 LETTERS OF comes how the deuce am I going to know it unless I keep on playing?" I couldn't argue against that brand of logic, but he still owes me forty dol- lars that I loaned him two months later with which to go West. The last time I heard of him he was collecting fares for a street car company in Los Angeles. Apparently his luck was still with him. This may not be the case with you, but why gamble on the future? It has happened; that's tip enough for a wise guy- If it isn't too late, go back and take the little job you turned down. At the bottom of your refusal is a big chunk of ego. Just before I heeded the "call" to go out into the great world and build up a name and reputation for myself, in the days when I was burning with ambition and bubbling with enthusiasm, I was offered a job in Oldburg as general fac- totum to old man Pingle, who was oper- 80 A SELF-MADE FAILURE ating a four-boy-power broom shop. I felt that my dignity was insulted and the hauteur I displayed in spurning that offer would have made a New York cloak model look as humble as a sister of charity. It was me for the Big Town with large opportunities, and I told him so. A little red-headed plebeian by the name of Griggs had just blown back from a Western college and was looking for any kind of a job to help pay the interest on the mortgage on his mother's house which happened to be near ours. I tipped him off to the Pingle opening and he interviewed the old man and got the place. Griggs, in spite of his lowly origin, had a good mind and had man- aged to acquire at college a technical education. In about a year he had rigged up a machine that turned out more and better brooms in one day than old man Pingle had been able to pro- duce in a week, and the four-boy power 81 LETTERS OF was employed in packing and shipping them to all parts of the State. In about three years there were seventy-five hands at work and the shop was known as the Pingle-Griggs "Plant." You are not up on brooms, which is a pity, but if you ever have to use one, the chances are that it will bear the P-G trade-mark. I was too big for the little job, so I went to a place that I thought would fit my size and I rattled around in it like a bean in a boiler. Griggs was too big for his little job, but he managed to make the job big enough to measure up to his abilities. Now he's the presi- dent of the Consolidated Broom Prod- ucts Company, and if it hadn't been for his invitation I would never have bee,n able to describe the interior of a sea- going yacht from personal experience. I have often thought what a lucky man old Pingle was in being unable to secure my valuable services. 82 A SELF-MADE FAILURE It isn't the job that makes the man; it's the man that makes the job. I'm afraid that you've been mixing with a flock that has you outclassed in either income or earning capacity, and you think that they may pass you up unless you can measure up to them socially. I told you before that all work was labor, and the kind of work you do, so long as it's on the level, should have no bearing on your social position. If it does you're trailing with the wrong bunch. It's a great deal better for you to be friendless and out of debt than popular and in the hole. You've been in and out of half a dozen jobs in the last year, and to my way of thinking, without excuse. I'm not one of those who believe in sticking to one thing for life. If a man hasn't got a good bank balance or an interest in the business after he's served a house for ten 83 LETTERS OF years, then there's something wrong with either the man or the job. On the other hand you can make a change every six months, provided each movement is a step in advance. A rolling stone gathers no moss, but a rolling stone is undirected energy; a speeding train, however, which is going somewhere, usually picks up a lot of dust. People never question the ability of a man whose services are in demand; he can go from one place to another; but the fellow who slips in and out of positions like he changes his clothes is written down as a quitter, and the man who won't "stay put" is unpopular in all walks of life. You hear a good deal of nonsense about certain people having drifted about in the byways of failure until they suddenly found their proper level. Then the rest was easy. With bearings well oiled they slid the gear into high, H A SELF-MADE FAILURE and passed everything on the road to progress until they finished first in the race and walked away with Fortune's diamond-studded trophy. No doubt there is a short cut to most places we are trying to reach, but the days we waste and the energy we expend in seeking it are a greater loss of time and effort in the end than if we had struck out boldly through the underbrush. Seek your proper sphere, but hustle while you look; sitting by the roadside and wishing you had a motor car won't get you home. I believe with you that every man is fitted to do a certain thing better than some other man; but the trouble with that is that the work we are cleverest at we often decline to do as a matter of pride. I never yet have seen a man who didn't think his own line was the tough- est in the world, and who didn't believe he would have been happier or more of a success had he followed another busi- 85 A SELF-MADE FAILURE ness or profession. Some poor lawyers are good mechanics; good mechanics leave the bench to read law; the sur- geon aspires to literary honors; the lit- erary success gets into trade and goes broke, and so it progresses ad infinitum. Your theory — that of being unlucky in not getting with the right house — doesn't appeal to me. I might have sympathized with you a dozen years ago. I don't deny that the element of luck plays a part, and an important one, in some cases. But good health, indus- try and frugality is a combination that has luck beaten to a standstill. Without those three factors no man can achieve any kind of lasting independence unless he's lucky, and just what chance you have to be that particularly fortunate individual is, a question that may be answered by some trance-medium, but not by Your affectionate brother, Jim. 86 S cheerful lad with a ready smile whose society is mostly in demand \P"g* 6j\ VI ^jlfter a colt has pulled a drag around for an hour or so, he is usually willing to stand without hitching OLDBURG, March 8, 1913. Dear Bob: I'm beginning to see some hope for you in the disposition you show to listen. There's nothing for the development of an open mind like a couple of hard falls. On this orb mighty few things worth having come easy. Providence doesn't confer her favors lightly. The fellow with staying qualities who can stand up under punishment and smile is the boy that grabs the prize in the end and hangs on to it. It's only the seasoned fighter who can successfully defend his title against all comers for any length of time. Cham- pions made by a chance blow are never the ones who retire from the ring unbeaten. I don't think you should hesitate to tackle the bigger job tendered you. A 93 LETTERS OF year ago the unbounded confidence of youth would have prompted you to wade in without the least doubt of your abil- ity to boss the whole works. You now know that you have limitations, which proves to me that you are developing some judgment, and that quality is one of the most important factors of success. You made the painful discovery that a certain large institution could dispense with your services and still remain in business without loss of trade or pres- tige, and that knowledge has humbled your pride. It doesn't necessarily follow that they were right or that you were wrong; you may both have been right. If there were one royal road to success somebody would have patented it long ago, or it would be under government control. Many houses in similar lines succeed by widely dissimilar methods. You rode a high horse and he threw you, but you've got to have pluck enough 94 A SELF-MADE FAILURE to climb back in the saddle and stick there. The mention of horses reminds me of the time when a fellow by the name of Sam Tucker and I belonged to the same riding club. Tucker considered him- self quite a horsy chap and was wont to boast of the fact that he had never been upset. He didn't seem to be much of a rider, but he stood ready to take any mount that came along, and nobody had ever seen him spilled. Once the riding academy got in a lot of new horses, among which was one "Sweet Peas." The first exercise boy to make her acquaintance re-christened her "Sour Cheese," and the groom that had charge of her called her other things. Sweet Peas was a rangy young chest- nut with a head as narrow as a peanut, as hard as a walnut and with about the same amount of brains. She had little white spots in the corner of her eyes, a 95 LETTERS OF hook-nose and the habit of wearing her ears pompadour. She got into action like a threshing machine and was as gentle-mannered as a well-behaved hyena. They brought her out for me to ride on a practice night, and while I appre- ciated the fact that her selection as my mount was a flattering tribute to my skilled horsemanship, I permitted dis- cretion to triumph over valor and de- clined the honor with thanks. Tucker kidded me and promptly or- dered his saddle put on the gentle crea- ture. This having been accomplished, to the admiration of the audience and members, he vaulted aboard and with a shout dug his spurs into the tender flanks of S. P. Right then and there something hap- pened. That quadruped squealed like a pig, then did a stunt that looked like a cross between a buck, a swing and a jump, and simultaneously Mr. Samuel 96 A SELF-MADE FAILURE Tucker shot out of the saddle and landed in the tanbark so hard that I thought surely we should have to ex- cavate for him. That was his first tumble, but there were a thousand of them coming to him, and Sweet Peas had wrapped them all into a neat package and delivered the goods at one time, charges paid. He wasn't much hurt, but that bump jarred all the nerve out of his system, and he has never ridden anything since except a bicycle. The truth is that Mr. Tucker didn't have any real nerve at all ; if he had, he would have climbed back into the sad- dle and whaled the life out of that goat until he had mastered her — for she was mastered later, and by an exercise boy, at that. Mr. Tucker was merely lucky instead of plucky, and for a long time he managed to get away with it simply because he happened to pick horses whose courage was less than his. 97 LETTERS OF You've had your first tumble, and un- less you're the same kind of a man as Tucker, you'll not let one fall take the nerve out of you. That your chief has offered you a better post is evidence that he has con- fidence in your ability to fill it credit- ably, and when a big man selects a fellow for certain important work he does so with a reason. Very few men ever get to the top of the heap in business except through the exercise of unusual ability, and ability is about ninety per cent judgment and the other ten per cent is hard work. Believing this, I have enough confidence in your boss's judgment to feel that his selection is right. In doubting your own ability you show a certain modesty which I like to see, but too much modesty is akin to timidity, and there's as much difference between the two as there is 'twixt self- respect and conceit, or envy and ambi- 98 A SELF-MADE FAILURE tion. Sometimes it takes a wise man to determine where strength ends and weakness begins. Don't be timid, but at the same time beware of over-confidence. Some years ago when the concern I was with had its strongest competitor in the Featherwaite Company, the head of the latter institution decided to change his general manager, and in selecting the new man he took a chap by the name of Larry Cross from the local sales force. Old Featherwaite had won his way in the world by hard work, thrift and judg- ment, and he was one of those men who have a high regard for simple energy, directed or otherwise. He picked Cross principally because he seemed to be a hard worker, and in doing so he made the common error of mistaking industry for ability. When Cross took hold of his new job he found himself sitting in judgment over many men infinitely his superiors 99 LETTERS OF in both capacity and intelligence, so for awhile he was sensible enough to work hard and say little. By this modest atti- tude he gained the good will of the force under him, and in the beginning it looked as though he would win out, notwithstanding his lack of executive ability. When he discovered, however, that the business continued to grow, in spite of the fact that he had done nothing worthy of note, and that the prosperity was attributed to his management, he began to wonder, if, after all, he was not the real genius of the organization. Old Featherwaite was an accom- plished merchant and a man of recog- nized commercial ability, so I suppose Larry figured that, having been selected by so wise a man, there must have been some subtle cleverness in himself that his natural modesty had caused him to overlook, but which was perfectly ap- parent to a trained analytical intellect, ioo A SELF-MADE FAILURE He was entirely willing, therefore, to estimate his own worth at Featherwaite's valuation, and before long he began to imagine himself the main squeeze. In other words, he took himself very seriously, gradually dropped his modest demeanor and commenced to swell up. He imitated his boss in pose and expres- sion, adopted certain of his mannerisms, and tried to do the things Featherwaite had done but without having the same reasons. Like all imitations he was merely the echo instead of the voice; the shadow instead of the substance, and it wasn't long before the sales force began to look on him as a joke. Lacking the strength and ability to hold his organization together the con- cern began to disintegrate little by little, and a few years later Featherwaite died and our company bought the business from the executors for about a quarter of its book value. Some of the good 101 LETTERS OF men were retained, but as Larry failed to measure up to our standard he was among those let out. About three months ago I ran across him in a Western town. He was wear- ing a blue uniform trimmed with gold braid and he was holding down the job of main ticket chopper for a motion pic- ture house. After many years of ease he had lost his cunning as a salesman and I suppose his nerve had gone with it. It was the old story of improvidence, over-confidence and conceit. Take your work seriously, my boy, but not yourself ; we are all of us jokes, more or less. But responsibility is the great charac- ter-developer, and very few of us really know what we can do until we are put to the test. The market is long on men who can take orders but short on those who can intelligently issue them. Re- sponsibility requires a certain amount of initiative: the willingness to act when 1 02 A SELF-MADE FAILURE occasion demands and the courage to fail under honest effort and take the consequences. Of course you may fail ; but you can't tell whether you will succeed unless you try; and having tried to the utmost of your ability and failed is better than never to have tried at all. Better be- cause in every loss there is the compen- sation of experience, while mere inac- tion means mental and physical stagna- tion, the dam and sire of annihilation. As to flatterers, you will find, ,my boy, that in most big organizations there are two classes of men : those who work for the boss and those who work the boss. Wealth, success and power seem to en- gender a love for adulation. I've known some pretty big men who swallowed flattery like a hungry bass grabs a min- now. It's one of nature's little jokes to put a soft spot in the big fellows; it keeps them human; even Achilles had a vulnerable heel. The fellow, though, 105 LETTERS OF who is willing to act as valet to another man's vanity only confesses himself one kind of a lackey. Don't waste time harboring ill-will or suspicion. Hate and love are both emotional, and sentiment has no place- in business. Kindness, sympathy or vin- dictiveness does not generally enter into the make-up of millionaires. The man with no romance in his soul, but a dogged determination to save some part of every dollar he earns, is the fellow who gets to be boss some day, more surely than the brilliant sports- man who is always ready to take a chance. You and I are not of the plodding stock, but we can take a page from that sort of a fellow's book. What he lacks in genius he makes up for in frugality; his very weakness becomes his strength. Your weakness and mine is the soft stuff; offset it by saving a few dollars every day in the year and there may 1 06 A SELF-MADE FAILURE come a time when you can afford to "in- dulge in the luxury of sentimentality. Never mind if people call you a cheap skate. In the first place you can never please everybody, and, secondly, if you'll keep your eyes open you'll discover what I found out, that it's the tight-wad who ten years later usually gives the loose-roll a job. Your affectionate brother, Jim. 107 VII 1 aking a side-line is like courting two girls: you re bound to be found out and lose the better one, and you 1 11 never be happy with the other one Oldburg, May 10, 191 3. Dear Bob: I have carefully considered the mat- ter you submitted to me, and on general principles I would advise you to keep your hands off. It sounds good, but there is a wide difference between prop- ositions that sound good, and good, sound propositions. Don't devote any of your time just now to an outside enterprise. You seem to have the confidence and friendship of your employer and have done pretty well in your position. It was proper for you to consult the boss, but even though he is apparently will- ing that you take on outside work, the mere fact that other interests are claim- ing your attention will eventually cre- ate the impression that he is not getting your maximum efficiency. No matter in A SELF-MADE FAILURE how well you serve him, that idea is bound to grow in his mind, and when the head of the house begins to feel that way about you, the fellow who is look- ing for your scalp will water the seeds of doubt until they blossom into dis- trust, and sooner or later you will have to buckle on your skates and dust. It will be necessary for you to devote considerable time and thought to your outside venture if you hope to cash in any profit, and even then you may fail to make it pay. If you don't give it the requisite attention it will certainly not amount to anything — nothing ever does with divided effort — so either way you look at it, it's a gamble. It's all right to say that you're not risking a dollar, but time is more than money. Lost money may be recovered, but yesterday is dead. It wasn't so long ago when old Dr. McNabb was the leading saw bones of Oldburg. Doc was a canny Scot with 112 A SELF-MADE FAILURE an eye for the stray penny, and there weren't many that got away from him, no matter from which direction they came. Doc was a general practitioner of no mean ability and he also possessed quite some mechanical skill. He had a workshop and a laboratory, and in the latter he compounded his own prescriptions. Charley Banks ran the "American Pharmacy" and dispensed soda, cigars, stamps, prescriptions and occasional medical advice. There was no entente cordiale be- tween Doc and Charley. The latter hated Doc because he filled his own pre- scriptions and Doc hated Charley be- cause he sold patent medicines and diag- nosed minor ailments and prescribed for them. About this time a young physician by the name of Ainsley located here and made his office in the Commercial ii5 LETTERS OF House. The first thing he did was to cultivate Charley Banks and offer to send him all his prescriptions if Charley would speak a good word in return when opportunity offered. In those days the automobile was just becoming popular, and the three or four local machines were in and out of com- mission about "fifty-fifty." Colonel Woodhouse, the president of the First National Bank, was the lead- ing citizen of Oldburg and he owned the most imposing gas, tire and oil con- sumer in town. It was of imported make, and while it ran more regularly than the rest of them, when it did go wrong it was harder to fix because the parts were of foreign make and measurements. Doc McNabb, with keen foresight, saw in the advent of the motor-car an opportunity for his mechanical ability and he immediately began to read up on gas engines, with the result that be- 116 A SELF-MADE FAILURE fore many days he was the best-posted individual in town on that particular subject. More machines came and as fast as something went wrong with them Doc was summoned to diagnose the disease and apply the remedy. Pretty soon he was looking after as many sick cars as patients and Charley Banks used to re- mark sarcastically that the "M.D." on Doc's sign stood for "Motor Doctor." I was in the drug store one afternoon when Colonel Woodhouse drew up in his panting motor and stepped inside to buy some cigars. Charley waited on him and by way of making conversation remarked : "Going home rather late this after- noon, aren't you, Colonel?" "I'm not going home, I'm on my way to see Doc McNabb," said the Colonel, lighting up his ten-cent straight. Charley leaned over the counter, looked through the doorway at the ma- ii7 A SELF-MADE FAILURE chine and then inquired sympatheti- cally: "What's the trouble this time? Car- buretor or magneto?" The Colonel removed his cigar from his mouth with a show of annoyance. "Neither one; stomach trouble!" he snapped. "Aren't you taking a big chance?" "What do you mean, big chance?" "I should think," said Charley as he arranged the stock in the cigar case, "that you'd consult a physician, not an engineer." "A physician?" "Sure, a real stomach specialist like Dr. Ainsley — over at the Commercial House." The Colonel made no reply, but walked to the door and stood there smoking and thinking hard. Finally he got into his machine and I heard him say to the driver: "Commercial House 1" 118 "FRANK 6GPHIIN The village sw< gh we had measles in the family A SELF-MADE FAILURE That was Ainsley's first case, but as the Colonel was the "class" of Oldburg the news spread quickly and the new doctor became all the fashion. I know what you're thinking: that there was perhaps more money in motors than in medicine and that McNabb probably found his real field to be me- chanics, and prospering in it, was there- fore better off and happier than if he had stuck to pills. You've guessed wrong. As the motor grew into popular favor a bright young chap came to town and saw an opening. He knew nothing about medicine, but everything about motor cars. He opened a supply house, garage and a first-class repair shop, and he was the fellow who got all the automobile business. This is an age of specialization, my boy, and the only men who succeed in a big way are those who pick out some particular line of work and live with it 123 LETTERS OF until they get to know more about it than most other fellows. Concentration, consistent and persist- ent effort in one direction, is the surest road to success. You'll never win in a big way — except acciden- tally — if you scatter your energies. The best steam-engine in the world would race itself to ruin without its gover- nor. Keep your mind on your job, specialize in your particular business and try to know as much about it as the man who created it, and, barring misfortune, you'll make more out of that knowledge than you will out of any chance success outside of your business. Your present salary isn't a fortune, but it's the annual interest on $40,000; don't jeopardize that income, but find the way to increase it. Don't try to make money too fast. The one pursuit of man since the world began has been happiness; and while poverty pals with 124 A SELF-MADE FAILURE misery, happiness does not always hob- nob with wealth. When I came back to this town about eight or nine years ago, it was generally tipped off that I had fallen down in New York and made a mess of things. The village swells passed us up as though we had measles in the family. My experience with "class" had hard- ened me, so I was able to bear up bravely under the blow; but it was a little bit tough on Emily. It would have been a lot easier to have gone on in the Big Town, living on a bluff and getting deeper in the hole, and had I consulted my pride I would have done so. But somehow, the fact that I had been slaving so long for landlords, tailors, milliners and modistes began to take root in my mind and get on my nerves. That was the dawn of reason, and in its light I saw a great white way, at the end of which stood an imposing edifice; it was the county 125 LETTERS OF poorhouse and I was headed straight for it. I might have saved a neat fortune — it looks neat now, though it didn't then — had this light penetrated my Harvey- ized dome a few years earlier; but I was too busy then laying pipes — smoking them would perhaps describe it better. Anyhow, when I got on to myself I summoned the necessary courage and chucked up a $6,000 job that was cost- ing me $6,500 a year to live up to, and accepted one for $4,000 here, where I could cut my living expenses to $1,500 per annum, and still not be compelled to dwell under the same roof with dolls, chickens or con-artists. This act was the first sign of real in- telligence I had displayed in about ten years, and after I had taken the awful plunge into oblivion, I was surprised and somewhat hurt to see how little anybody cared. My absence didn't seem to be noticed at all. 126 A SELF-MADE FAILURE Today I have a half interest in this business, which is growing right along under my management. I own the house we live in free and clear, and all told I'm worth about $35,000. I got it by saving $1,500 a year for six years and being in a position, when one of the part- ners died, to buy out his interest for cash. Now we have so many friends that when we pull a social function we have to hire the Town Hall in order to accommodate the mob. I'm Godfather to a whole regiment of Boy Scouts, and only yesterday I declined the nomina- tion for mayor on the right ticket. Such is the power of a dollar. Don't despise it. I never knew what real happiness was until I began to see myself in a cpmf ort- able position against old age. I've always worked pretty hard, as you know, and faithfully too, and I've made all the mistakes I'm trying to save 127 LETTERS OF you from) but the biggest mistake of all was not saving my money. In one way perhaps it was best. Pos- sibly if I hadn't" been all brands of a darned jackass I might have accumu- lated a good-sized bank roll, continued to live in New York, and some day a plausible guy with a nice ripe proposi- tion would have come along and taken it away from me in the sere and yellow of life. Who knows? I always was an optimist. I used to believe everything a nice man would say to me, and the consequence was that once I helped to build up a fine business for another fellow and was profusely remunerated in compliments. Had I saved some money in the meantime, it wouldn't have made so much difference when he forgot his promises to me and sold out. Many a time I wanted to demand more pay for the services I was render- ing, but was afraid to bring the matter 128 A SELF-MADE FAILURE to an issue. I didn't dare shove my little stack of chips in the middle. The "Old Man" was a poker-player and a good one, and he might have called my bluff. Had I been on velvet, however, I could have gone through with the play, and losing the pot, I might still have sat in the game for awhile. There is no reason why you shouldn't have better luck, nor is there any reason why you should; but don't spoil your chances by arousing suspicion that you are not satisfied with your salary, or that you are not devoting your undivided attention to the interests of your house. Stick to this policy, save your coin, take no chances in outside ventures and at the end of a few years, which roll around fast enough, the ready money you have will recompense you for any loss you may have suffered in lack of appreciation. One thought more : No business man thinks much of a chap who can't save his 129 A SELF-MADE FAILURE own money. If you can't take care of your own dollars, your boss is not going to pick you as a likely individual to guard and increase the assets of the house. No matter how straight you are, what ability you possess, there is nothing that makes so favorable an impression on the head of the house as that polite independence which is born of a little cash balance to your credit every month in the year. Your affectionate brother, Ttm Fill rr hen a man refuses to take a vacation because he ' s afraid to trust things to others, he needs to be sys- tematized more than his business Oldburg, 'Aug. i, 1 9 13. Dear Bob: Hot? Well, since you referred to the fact I have noticed that there seems to be an over- abundance of superheated at- mosphere in town this week. I suppose I wouldn't have paid any- particular attention to it had I been fully occupied, but as I haven't done four hours' real work a day, recently, I have had time to inventory a few phys- ical discomforts. When you find that your tooth has stopped aching by the time you get to the dentist's, it's because your dread of the forceps had occupied your mind to the exclusion of all other thoughts. It's a psychological condition and most of our little worries are the same thing. No one who has time to complain of the weather has any real trouble, so let's 133 LETTERS OF be thankful that we're only hot, and not homeless and hungry. I've often thought that the medical fraternity ought to get together some day and erect a monument to "Indo- lence." That particular state has pro- vided sanitariums with more well-pay- ing patients than all the other States in the Union. However, this is not a com- plaint, it's merely an observation on hu- man frailty. I once went on a fishing trip with a tenderfoot friend of mine who had read a lot about the joys of camp life and thought he'd like to sample them. I don't know what he expected to find, but from the first day out he com- plained about everything from the fla- vor of the coffee to the croaking of the frogs. On the second day he was ready to quit, and when he found that he would have to stick it out to the end of the week, he exhausted his picturesque vo- cabulary in calling himself all varieties 134 A SELF-MADE FAILURE of a nut for ever leaving the soft com- forts of the city for the discomforts of the open; and for once everybody agreed with him. The bunch wished him on me one morning, so I took him fishing in a row- boat, at the bottom of which we had stored our lunch, expecting to be gone most of the day. Just about noon a stiff wind sprang up and blew so hard that it kicked up a considerable sea against which I couldn't make any headway. The spray came over our low gunwales, wetting us to the skin, the bottom of our boat was awash and our lunch was ruined. There was nothing to do but keep out of the trough of the sea and try to make either shore of the lake, which was about a mile wide. After an hour's killing work I succeeded in beaching the craft, which had sprung a leak, on a rocky shore a good fifteen miles from camp. There we stayed for five hours while the gale i3S LETTERS OF raged. We were wet, miserable and hungry, dusk was approaching and the prospect for spending the night in the high grass was the only safe bet in sight. Ignatius sat on a rock and choked with emotion. "I'd give a hundred dol- lars," said he, "to any fellow with a gas boat to tow me back to that rotten camp with its tough grub and concrete bedsl" We spent the night in the woods and tried to keep warm by battling with the mosquitoes. They sent a launch for us at daybreak, and when Ignatius got back to camp, the way he absorbed leather- bound biscuits, lapped up muddy coffee and stowed away bacon would have re- minded you of one of those show-win- dow demonstrations of a vacuum cleaner in full action. He slept that night like a babe in its mother's arms — and several nights there- after — and he didn't go home at the end of the week. He had had his first taste 136 A SELF-MADE FAILURE of adversity, came out alive, and even the wilderness looked beautiful to him. I'm sorry that you are not coming here on your vacation, but no doubt a complete change of scene will do you more good. Getting into the tall timber is not only a great physical tonic, but to a thoughtful man it's a mental bracer as well. There's nothing that emphasizes our utter insignificance with such telling effect as getting into contrast with the big things of creation. I never felt so much like a mere insect as the day I first had a look at Niagara Falls. The fellow who can stand at the bottom of that cataract and still retain any considerable opinion of his own magnitude would have nerve enough to rewrite the Decalogue; but there are some persons with a case-hardened ego. I'm glad you decided to take a vaca- 137 A SELF-MADE FAILURE tion. Some people maintain that a peri- odical rest is unnecessary, but I disagree with that view. Change in everything is essential.; it's the law of the universe, and what is good for Nature can never harm man. Monotony dulls the wits. There is a saying that you can't get too much of a good thing ; but when there's too much of a thing it ceases to be good. We value health only when sickness sends us to the mat, and to appreciate the joy of work to the full, we must first have been denied it. By all means take your vacation. The more you are missed at the office the warmer will be your welcome on your return. If your absence goes unnoticed, it will take some of the conceit out of you and perhaps inspire you to better effort. There are generally two kinds of men who are opposed to vacations: one is the fellow who is afraid to go away in 138 By all means take your vacation. The more you are missed at the office the warmer will be your welcome on your return A SELF-MADE FAILURE the dread that the boss will find out dur- ing his absence how little he amounts to; the other is the chap who wants to create the impression that he is a tireless worker. The kind of a job that you have to eternally sit on and watch isn't worth holding, or if it is, you're the wrong party in it. When you don't feel at the bottom of your heart that you are pro- ducing — that you're making good every hour in the twenty-four — then you can lay ten dollars to a tin beer-seal you're not; you can't fool your conscience. Don't waste time watching a job that's too big for you; go out and land one that fits your capacity and you'll be hap- pier in the end. Play an open game, especially with yourself. Stand on your merits; insist on getting what's coming to you, but don't overlook giving the other fellow his due. Never be afraid that somebody will 141 LETTERS OF find out how to do a certain thing as well as you can. If you know only one thing you're in a bad way, and as a rule the fellow who is afraid someone will find out what he knows, never knows anything worth finding out. Take a few days off and don't bother about the lad who may put something over while you're gone; if a breath can dethrone you, the empire isn't worth ruling. Don't waste time trying to discover what's in the mind of someone else ; it's the job of a lifetime sizing up yourself. I'm always suspicious of a man who won't take a vacation. It isn't the na- ture of a normal man to stick to any eternal grind when he gets an oppor- tunity for a bit of honest relaxation. Mostly that sort of a play is made to the grand stand. The man who doesn't care for fresh air, the sea, the rolling hills, green val- leys and streams or the perfume of sum- 142 A SELF-MADE FAILURE mer woods, who can find no inspiration in the broad amphitheater of nature, has a kink in his mental makeup. If you don't know how to loaf you can't know how to labor. There is no rest like that which is earned after work well done, and there is no work better done than that which is enjoyed after a little idleness. The man who lives close to the soil re- quires a change of scene merely as a matter of education. His business is manual labor and his avocation is more or less intellectual. He devotes his even- ings to the improvement of his mind, not because he is a wiser man than his city cousin, but generally for the reason that he has nothing else to do. He is not tempted by a thousand divertise- ments. Once in awhile he may invest in a gold brick, but he doesn't mistake excitement for amusement — the species of green goods that is handed out to half a million city wise guys, on little 143 LETTERS OF old Broadway, seven nights in the week all the year around. The man who can derive both profit and pleasure from the exercise of his mental and physical functions needs no recreation ; he is developing the best human instincts: thought and work. But you fellows who toil in over-pop- ulated canyons, dine in over-decorated caravansaries and sleep in under-venti- lated caves, need a change. You've got to get an occasional glimpse of normal life to keep you from acquiring an ab- normal point of view, the natural se- quence of your artificial mode of exist- ence. When I first came back here I couldn't sleep at night because I found the stillness oppressive. I missed the nocturnal noises of a big metropolis. I was like the city-broke horse that will walk up to a snorting motor-car and bite a piece out of the tire without bat- ting an eye, yet who would throw a 144 A SELF-MADE FAILURE fit at the falling of a leaf in a peaceful country lane. And now the quiet of this bucolic burg has so changed me that the trolley cars of a third-class town will keep me awake in the night. Yet, time was when I could carry on a connected conversation and even enjoy a dinner at any lobster palace in Manhattan's radiant pleasure belt, in spite of the orchestra ! There are some men who have learned to systematize their lives as they have their businesses. That sort of a man doesn't need a rest, but there are few of his particular type in New York. Rest-, ing is never rusting to the man who has periodically oiled his mental machinery with a little relaxation. "Change your act," is the motto of the vaude- ville manager; and it's a pretty good rule in life to change your daily activities, lest you go stale, flat and unprofitable. Don't worry just now about the ac- H5 LETTERS OF cumulation of work that will confront you on your return. Learn how to regu- late your work so that it will not accu- mulate in the future. I wouldn't have a man in my employ who couldn't keep up with the band- wagon. If the man was too light for the job, I would get another man; if the work was too heavy for one man, I would get him an assistant, and if he was one of those fellows who decline as- sistance I would fire him all the quicker for fear the time would come when I couldn't get along very comfortably without him. Set your house in order, my boy. Don't try to do two men's work. If you fill one man's job and do it thor- oughly, you can stand on your record. Systematize your work so that you can leave your desk any day without embar- rassing or even disrupting the orderly routine of the business. That's the test of true efficiency in the man, and a sure 146 'A SELF-MADE FAILURE sign of the lack of it in the house that doesn't make that principle a law. Vacation never spoiled a really good man. If you acquire the loaf-habit after a few weeks off, you are merely de- veloping a disease that was in your blood. Temptation only makes a thief of the weak. One drink may start an appetite for booze, but the appetite must be there to begin with. I'm strong for work, but there is a reasonable limit to work, just as there is to idleness, wealth, worry, enthusiasm, friendship — everything, in fact, but honesty. Enjoy yourself, old man, forget the grind and go fishing. Your affectionate brother, Jim. i47 IX \jood clothes help some, but a business man's ap- parel shouldn't attract more attention than his conversation OLDBURG, Nov. 12, 1913. Dear Bob : Yesterday morning there burst upon my peaceful horizon a young man with effervescent personality and blond locks. He wore a green hat, a hand- painted top-coat belted aft, low-necked shoes and white socks. He carried a stick and a letter of introduction which certified to the fact that Mr. J. Welling- ton Whimple was a friend of yours. I hated to believe it, but your signature looked genuine, so I received him pleas- antly. I could see at a glance that J. Well- ington was no ordinary fellow. It was also apparent that he devoted a good deal of his time, valuable or otherwise, to his wardrobe, which was, I should say, the last word in six-cylindered, self- starting, 1916-model toggery, as prog- 151 A SELF-MADE FAILURE nosticated by those infallible sartorial seers, "The House of Frankfurter." I'm not knocking fashionable attire. I go in for dress a bit myself, for I believe that appearances count in cre- ating an impression, but I never see a chap in ultra-regalia but I get to won- dering how much time he must spend in keeping up with the style. It must have required some time, a good deal of thought and no little courage to achieve the tout ensemble in which J. Welling- ton descended upon this jay town. A good appearance is always an enter- ing wedge when a man seeks an inter- view, but all the clothes in a king's ward- robe won't sell a bill of goods ; it takes human intelligence to do that. Vanity sometimes leads a fellow to bedeck his person like a five-storied wedding cake, and some men do it, I suppose, because they believe in the fool- ish aphorism that "clothes make the man." It's the other way: man makes 152 the clothes, and just as often clothes un- make the man. Fine feathers may make fine birds, fine hats or fine dusters, but the best that fine clothes ever did was to make fine-looking men. No doctor ever prescribes for himself, and by the same token you'll notice that the men who own the clothes foundries don't wear their own styles — not pub- licly, at any rate. My estimate of your friend J. Well- ington is that of a person skilled in the fine arts of light conversation and heavy dancing. I judge him to be a tireless scout in tracking down new tango parlors in the perilous Lobster Belt of Wild Manhattan; and I'll bet a cream-puff he's a bear with the ladies. Altogether, J. Wellington is some classy lad! He modestly remarked to me that he had no expectation of doing much busi- ness this trip as it was his first time here. I didn't discourage him. 155 A SELF-MADE FAILURE He told me also that you were aces up with the swellest little skirt in all Man- hattan — I quote his exact language — and as he proceeded to unlimber his heavy conversational ordnance, I gath- ered that you were considering an ex- cursion into that country from whose bourne no traveler ever returns — quite the same man. Of course, I'm not surprised; few men have the sense to let well enough alone, but if you are thinking seriously of matrimony I hope the fortunate young lady does not move in J. Well- ington's set. It seems to me that you have trouble enough in settling your own bills while engaged in discharging the mental labor allotted to you, with- out aspiring to go in hock to milliners and dressmakers, besides doing general housework after you get home nights. I imagine that the dolls in J. Well- ington's circle are built for speed, not comfort. 156 A SELF-MADE FAILURE I'm not asking your confidence, but I would like to know how you expect to keep a wife on your present salary. Still, perhaps you'd better not tell me. I don't want to attempt the hopeless task of trying to extricate you from the soft embraces of the only girl in the world. I know how it is: when love comes into the bean, reason flies out of the window. When a fellow of your age begins to dally with the so-called weaker sex, he has to trail with either the bad ones or the good ones. In the company of the swift he gets into trouble, and in the society of the others he gets married; there's no escape, they've got you com- ing and going; so in the circum- stances, I prefer to see you respectably harassed. Your earning capacity just now is not such as to cause the government much worry over the collection of your in- come tax, so if you had put the matter iS9 A SELF-MADE FAILURE up to me I should have counseled you, if you must marry, to select a wife from among those girls who make their own living. No one appreciates the value of a dollar like those who have earned one. The other kind of a wife for a man in your position is one with a bank- roll; it's just as easy to love a woman with money as it is to cherish one with- out it. Don't get the idea that I'm against matrimony. I'm for it, but in certain circumstances. I don't think it's a good thing for a man to be so worried with domestic cares that he can't attend to his business, for when that happens, he'll lose his job. It never makes any difference how good you were, it's always how good you are and can still be; past services are poor assets. It's pretty tough for a single man to be broke and out of work; you've been 1 60 It's pretty tough for a single man to be broke and out of work, but if you want to get the real definition of suffering, ask a married man how it feels to be in that position A SELF-MADE FAILURE there and know. But if you want to get the real definition of suffering, ask a married man how it feels to be in that position. Why must you have any domestic cares? Why should you be one of the very few to escape them? I'm a little afraid that you are bank- ing on the promises of advancement and emoluments that have been made to you. Don't place too much dependence in human nature — not because men in gen- eral are untrustworthy, which I do not mean to imply — but because they are human. Promises are often born of momentary enthusiasm and made with the best intentions of ultimate fulfill- ment. But things happen, conditions change, ardor cools; the sentiment of liberality is superseded by one of selfish interest and pledges made in the best of faith are forgotten. Everything human is frail and muta- 163 LETTERS OF ble. The nature of a man may change with each new environment, but the coin of the realm has a fixed and dependable value. You may fail to cash in on promises, but you can always collect one hundred cents on a dollar bill. That's the reason I say to you that it's all right to have faith in men, but put your implicit trust in cash; it's the only sure bet in the moment of adversity. The greatest thing in the world is a true and sympathetic friend when mis- fortune trips you by the heel; but how much happier is the helper than the helped ; how much better to be the friend than the befriended. It's an old aphorism that promises are like piecrust — easily broken; but the simile is insufficient. Broken piecrust at least is sustenance; a broken promise is empty nothingness. Promises are the flowers of acquaint- ance that are nurtured in the garden of 164 A SELF-MADE FAILURE friendship. They are made to blossom by the sunshine of sympathy and the fragrance they exude is hope. Today they lift their heads in full-blown beauty, only to be touched tonight by the frost of selfishness. Tomorrow they droop, wither and fall apart, and on the winds of adversity their petals are scattered broadcast, to be trod upon by the heel of indifference and ground in the dust of forgetfulness. Sentimental stuff? Maybe so; but matrimony is usually a sentimental affair — for at least one of the parties. "Never take a wife until thou hast a House to put her in," said Solomon — or was it Ben Franklin? It really doesn't matter; both had sufficient experience with the ladies to make either of them competent authority on the subject. If you happen to know in advance when J. Wellington is headed this way again, tip me off; I want to be out of town. 165 A SELF-MADE FAILURE Any other friend of yours who hap- pens to be a regular person will always find the latch-string out and the folding- bed down. Your affectionate brother, Jim. i 66 X rrhen you can afford to buy everything you need, you never seem to need anything OLDBURG, Jan. 10, 19 14. Dear Bob: Emily and I have decided to leave here next Wednesday, probably on the afternoon train. In the meantime pick out some hotel near your rooms and re- serve for us comfortable quarters. You needn't put on the soft pedal so far as expense is concerned, as this is our first pleasure jaunt in a number of years. Every other time I traveled for recre- ation I was worried to death over the expense and felt as though I should have been paying my bills with the rail- road fare. It's awful to have a sensitive nature. In a way this trip takes on the color of a honeymoon, and I'm half inclined to have you engage the bridal suite; but that thought, I presume, is a flash of the old spendthrift in me. 169 A SELF-MADE FAILURE It's remarkable how easy it is to be fairly happy, once we learn to put the bridle on desire. When I think of the fret and worry of the old days, the struggle to pay for things I didn't need and seldom enjoyed after I had themj I get to wondering how anybody so big a fool as I was could ever have re- formed at all. It isn't the things we really need that worry us, it's the things we'd like to have. There isn't a bauble in Tiffany's nor a hat in Paris that any woman would want if she lived in a country where everybody was blind. Conceit is at the bottom of every extravagance ; deprived of the pleasure of display and there'd be mighty little pleasure in great pos- sessions. Many people you and I know go to Europe every year and get seasick both ways. They haven't the mental capac- ity to appreciate half of what they see and get no real enjoyment from the trip. 170 s G 'P. A SELF-MADE FAILURE None of them would make the journey if there were nobody to listen to their annual travelogues when they got home. Personally, I believe I've forgotten how to spend money; I've gotten out of the habit. Still I suppose I will learn to work up a little enthusiasm with your able assistance. It's curious how little I want now that I am in a position to afford a few lux- uries. I suppose it's the old story of Eve and the apple. Ever since the first lady found that something she couldn't have was the only thing she wanted, a similar yearning has been in the nature of all her progeny. Whenever I get a yearning for some- thing I can't afford, I make it a rule to think of some fellow who has that thing and then question myself as to whether the owner of the coveted possession is perfectly happy. A little reflection usually satisfies me that he isn't any more contented than I i73 LETTERS OF am. I get to looking at my fellow freaks in Nature's Side Show, and I find that those who have everything in the way of worldly possessions still desire something, so in the end I conclude that dissatisfaction is a common human ail- ment, and I might as well be happy with what I have, as to be unhappy with what I can't afford. Of course, I don't expect you to feel that way. You have to live at least forty years before you can put yourself in that mental attitude ; but if you can't do it at forty, you're slated for the bug- house or the poorhouse. I fully appreciate the fact that should desire cease, progress would end; but desire must be tempered with modera- tion. The desire for cheap amusement is responsible for the development of the motion picture. Its educational features are practically incalculable, but when that feature becomes subordinated to 174 A SELF-MADE FAILURE puerile, putrid melodrama that appeals only to the hysterical masses, then pro- gression ends and retrogression begins. The desire for speed and motion has produced the highly efficient motor-car, created what is perhaps the greatest of all modern industries, given employ- ment to millions of men and money and developed special mechanical ingenuity to an enormously high degree. It has given us good roads and good road houses, annihilated distance and brought isolated communities into neighborly personal touch. But immoderate desire has produced the joy rider and the speed bug; it has given us the taxi habit and the taxi bandit, not to mention the taximeter, which as a liar has the gas meter scream- ing for help. Immoderate desire has put the mortgage on the farm and the life insurance policy, made pedestrianism unsafe, and our public parks and high- ways places of terror even for the acro- 175 LETTERS OF bat; it has infested residential sections with odoriferous garages having all- night licenses to rend our slumbering hours with weird and distressing noises, and it has placed thousands of death- dealing engines in the hands of reckless idiots. Oh, yes, we are going faster, but which way? I don't know. All I do profess to know is that every time a fellow indulges in immoderation, the little Imp of Compensation lies in wait for him with a sandbag — and gets him! I don't mean that all extravagances deserve discouragement. Not so many years ago the bathtub was a luxury to be found only in the houses of the wealthy. Today every decent tenement provides that luxury, and while the "ex- travagance" may add a little to the rent, who will deny that it's worth the price? A clean race is a strong race, and the prevalence of the bathtub is one of the 176 A SELF-MADE FAILURE surest signs of American progress and development. There are some things which do not make us happy, yet without them we would be unhappy; there are others which we imagine would make us happy, when their possession only sat- isfies a temporary craving. We are all children seeking amuse- ment; the only difference between five and seventy is in the nature of the toys. I can't express the pleasure with which I look forward to seeing you. I want to grasp your hand, pat you on the back and tell you personally what a brick you are. Any fellow of twenty-six with sport- ing blood who can live in the hotbed of extravagance, put a curb on desire and save his coin, has the stuff in him of which heroes are made. I give no credit to those of hereditary frugality who, endowed with providen- tial foresight, remain untainted because 177 LETTERS OF they lack the natural appetites that afflict a regular fellow. To some extent I envy that kind of a man, but his virtue is no fit subject for a panegyric. Such a nature, like genius, is a gift. I do, though, take off my hat to the lad who can cultivate a healthy self-restraint in spite of strong inclinations to the con- trary. I think it was Rousseau who said in a general way that he did not despise himself for his vices, but rather re- spected himself for having strength enough to overcome them. That thought has been a great help to me on many an occasion. It is generous of you to say that it was my advice that kept you in the right path and opened your eyes to the truth, but I don't deserve as much credit as you do. Anybody can give good advice, but it takes both a wise and a strong man to follow it. The only advice that most people like is the kind they want to 178 A SELF-MADE FAILURE hear; it's a question in mind whether I would have heeded good 'advice had conditions been reversed. But if you really feel that I have been instrumental in setting you in the right road, if you "stay put" and go on de- veloping, as I think you will, then all the mistakes I made in the past are noth- ing, for the compensation of your suc- cess will be full payment with interest compounded. I worked for fifteen years and made a good deal of money, as money was then considered, and didn't save a cent. You have set aside a thousand dollars in a year, and believe at the age of twenty-six, after very little bitter experi- ence, that a bank-roll is the only road to independence. You found out in one year what it took me fifteen to discover. That's going some, and I don't want to dim the glory of your conquest — for it is a conquest — the victory of man over himself. 179 A SELF-MADE FAILURE As to the Girl — well, since I have your assurances that she is not on the visiting list of the Hon. J. Wellington Whimple, I guess she's all right. I've got more confidence in your judgment now than I used to have, and she's not going to want for a cordial reception from your rube brother and sister. Any fellow who on your salary can keep company with a girl for a year and still save a thousand dollars, must have picked out the right sort of a girl, or he has evolved such a wonderful system of economics that matrimony needn't worry him. I'll wire you the time of our arrival. Meet us at the station but omit the music; I hate display. Affectionately yours, Jim. 180