There is nothing more vicious than the commonly expressed desire of parents in merely moderate circumstances to give their children what are ordinarily spoken of as “opportunities.”  “We wish our daughters to have every opportunity—­the best opportunities,” they say, meaning an equal chance with richer girls of qualifying themselves for attracting wealthy men and of placing themselves in their way.  In reality opportunities for what?—­of being utterly miserable for the rest of their lives unless they marry out of their own class.

The desire to get ahead that is transmitted from the American business man to his daughter is the source of untold bitterness—­for, though he himself may fail in his own struggle, he has nevertheless had the interest of the game; but she, an old maid, may linger miserably on, unwilling to share the domestic life of some young man more than her equal in every respect.

There is a subtle freemasonry among those who have to do with money.  Young men of family are given sinecures in banks and trust companies, and paid many times the salaries their services are worth.  The inconspicuous lad who graduates from college the same year as one who comes from a socially prominent family will slave in a downtown office eight hours a day for a thousand dollars a year, while his classmate is bowing in the ladies at the Fifth Avenue Branch—­from ten to three o’clock—­at a salary of five thousand dollars.  Why?  Because he knows people who have money and in one way or another may be useful sometime to the president in a social way.

The remuneration of those of the privileged class who do any work at all is on an entirely different basis from that of those who need it.  The poor boy is kept on as a clerk, while the rich one is taken into the firm.  The old adage says that “Kissing goes by favor”; and favors, financial and otherwise, are given only to those who can offer something in return.  The tendency to concentrate power and wealth extends even to the outer rim of the circle.  It is an intangible conspiracy to corner the good things and send the poor away empty.  As I see it going on round me, it is a heartless business.

Society is like an immense swarm of black bees settled on a honey-pot.  The leaders, who flew there first, are at the top, gorged and distended.  Round, beneath and on them crawl thousands of others thirsting to feed on the sweet, liquid gold.  The pot is covered with them, layer on layer—­buzzing hungrily; eager to get as near as possible to the honey, even if they may not taste it.  A drop falls on one and a hundred fly on him and lick it off.  The air is alive with those who are circling about waiting for an advantageous chance to wedge in between their comrades.  They will, with one accord, sting to death any hapless creature who draws near.

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Frankly I should not be enough of a man to say these things if my identity were disclosed, however much they ought to be said.  Neither should I make the confessions concerning my own career that are to follow; for, though they may evidence a certain shrewdness on my own part, I do not altogether feel that they are to my credit.