The cleverest man I ever knew was at the same time the wisest and
kindest-hearted of men. Not that the possession of wisdom, nor the
grace of kindness to his fellow-creatures, made him clever in a high
degree, but that when I was in the journeyman stage of learning, feeling
my feet, as it were, he gave me what I have ever since known--not
considered, mind you, but known--to be the best and most invaluable
advice that one creature could give to another. It was this--put into
short words (and, mind you, this man was a big man, and a very
successful business man, inasmuch as he raised one of the biggest
concerns in his own town out of sheer nothing, and died a rich man,
having used his wealth kindly and wisely at a time when things were not
what they are now)--
"Poskitt--tha'rt nowt but a young 'un! Tha's goin' inta t' world, and
tha'll find 'at theer'll be plenty o' men to gi' thee what they call
advice. Now, I seen all t' world o' Human Nature, and _I'll_ gi' thee
better advice nor onnybody 'at tha'll ever find--'cause I know! Listen
to me--
"(i.) I'steead o' trustin' nobody, trust ivverybody--till thou finds 'em
out. When thou finds 'em out (if thou ivver does), trust 'em agen!
Noae man's a bad 'un, soae long as ye get on t' reight side on him. An'
it's yer own fault, mind yer, if ye doaen't.
"(ii.) Doaen't think ower much about makkin' Brass. It's a good thing
to mak' Brass, and a good thing to be in possession on it, but Brass is
neyther here nor theer unless ye ware it on yer friends. Save yer Brass
as much as ye can. Keep it for t' rainy Day--ye never know when that
rainy Day's comin'--but don't skrike at a sixpence when ye know that a
half-crown wodn't mak' a diff'rence. Doaen't tak' yer sweetheart to
market, and let her come home wi' a penny ribbon when ye know in yer own
heart 'at ye might ha' bowt her a golden ring.
"(iii.) To end up wi'--trust ivvery man ye meet--not like a fool, but
like a wiseacre. Love your neighbours--but tak' good care that they love
you. If ye find that they don't, have nowt to do with 'em--but go on
loving 'em all the same. If theer's Retribution, it weern't fall on
you, but on them. But at th' same time, ye must remember that ivvery
one on us mak's the other. An', to sum up all the lot, ivvery man 'at
were ivver born on this earth mak's himself."
I
In one of those old Latin books which I sometimes buy in the old
book-shops in the market-towns that I visit, out of which I can pick out
a word or two, a sentence or two (especially if they are interleaved
with schoolboys' attempts at cribs), there is a line which I, at any
rate, can translate with ease into understandable English--a line that
always puts me in mind of my old, wise friend's blunt sayings--
"_Every man is the maker of his own fortune._"
And that's why I am going to tell you this story of a man who did Three
Things. First: Made Himself a Millionaire. Second: Lived in a Dream
while he was in the Process. Third: Came out of the Dream--when it was
all too late.
Now we will begin with him.