You may want to jump or to play cards; but you do not
want to read wandering statements to the effect that
jumping is jumping, or that games are won by winners.
If these writers, for instance, said anything about
success in jumping it would be something like this:
“The jumper must have a clear aim before him.
He must desire definitely to jump higher than the
other men who are in for the same competition.
He must let no feeble feelings of mercy (sneaked from
the sickening Little Englanders and Pro-Boers) prevent
him from trying to
do his best. He must
remember that a competition in jumping is distinctly
competitive, and that, as Darwin has gloriously demonstrated,
THE WEAKEST GO TO THE WALL.” That is the
kind of thing the book would say, and very useful it
would be, no doubt, if read out in a low and tense
voice to a young man just about to take the high jump.
Or suppose that in the course of his intellectual
rambles the philosopher of Success dropped upon our
other case, that of playing cards, his bracing advice
would run—“In playing cards it is
very necessary to avoid the mistake (commonly made
by maudlin humanitarians and Free Traders) of permitting
your opponent to win the game. You must have
grit and snap and go
in to win. The days
of idealism and superstition are over. We live
in a time of science and hard common sense, and it
has now been definitely proved that in any game where
two are playing IF ONE DOES NOT WIN THE OTHER WILL.”
It is all very stirring, of course; but I confess
that if I were playing cards I would rather have some
decent little book which told me the rules of the
game. Beyond the rules of the game it is all a
question either of talent or dishonesty; and I will
undertake to provide either one or the other—which,
it is not for me to say.
Turning over a popular magazine, I find a queer and
amusing example. There is an article called “The
Instinct that Makes People Rich.” It is
decorated in front with a formidable portrait of Lord
Rothschild. There are many definite methods,
honest and dishonest, which make people rich; the
only “instinct” I know of which does it
is that instinct which theological Christianity crudely
describes as “the sin of avarice.”
That, however, is beside the present point. I
wish to quote the following exquisite paragraphs as
a piece of typical advice as to how to succeed.
It is so practical; it leaves so little doubt about
what should be our next step—“The
name of Vanderbilt is synonymous with wealth gained
by modern enterprise. ‘Cornelius,’
the founder of the family, was the first of the great
American magnates of commerce. He started as the
son of a poor farmer; he ended as a millionaire twenty
times over.”
“He had the money-making instinct. He seized
his opportunities, the opportunities that were given
by the application of the steam-engine to ocean traffic,
and by the birth of railway locomotion in the wealthy
but undeveloped United States of America, and consequently
he amassed an immense fortune.