Legal
sharpers struggle and get a little, and in return keep away those
who try to climb up near him.
The interest has gone out of life. Where he used to see
competitors, he now sees only old memories. The old associates
have gone--it is even too late to help them--and he will soon go,
too.
He looks out over the land, and sees, when it is too late, all
that he has missed while he thought he was doing the thing most
important.
He has made a hundred millions of dollars, but not one human
friend.
He can hire almost any man to do anything. But there is not
enough money in the world to hire any one to miss him sincerely
when he is gone.
Such a man as this--an actual individual, with wealth far
exceeding one hundred millions--has insured his life for half a
million. To those who asked "why" he replied: "I want some
insurance company to be sorry when I die. No one else will be
sorry." Possibly he thought he was joking. But there was truth
in what he said.
The man who piles up money builds a solid wall that shuts out the
world from him. Sycophants climb over the wall--but their
flattery and fawning grow tiresome. Old age and cessation of
strong feeling cause the mind to see clearly--and hypocrisy no
longer deceives in the old, pleasant way.
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