The Great God Success

said. "I must say I was surprised when I read it. I had begun to fear that you would never catch the trick-for, wi

I can learn

only not be satisfied with the results that come easy, you will mak

He saw that his success had been to a great extent a happy accident; that to repeat it, to improve upon it he must study life, study the art of expression. He must keep his senses open to impression. He must work at style, enlarge

m. He worked hard at his profession and, when he left the office, usually went direct to his rooms to read until far into the morning. He was often busy sixteen hours out of the twenty-four. His day at reporting was long-from noon until midnight, and frequently until three in

love, hate, jealousy, revenge, greed. He saw these passions in action in the lives of people of all kinds and conditions. And he saw little els

the good side of human nature-some act of generosity or self-sacrifice-he did not exaggerate it into godlike heroism but adjusted it in its proper prospective by bringing out its human quality and its human surroundings. If the main point was v

oward a belief in the fundamental worth of humanity. Where others were cynical he was just. Where others were sentimental, he had sincere, healthful sentiment. Where others were hysterical, he calmly and accurately describe

by his ability to get intimately acquainted with public men, "reads as if a child might have written i

am writing for the masses, and fin

-long words, high-sounding phrases and all that sort of thing. What w

d Bunyan's," suggested

"Why he couldn't have made a living as

ng in Park Row," replied Kittredge with a

Managing Editor looked up and smi

s it?" h

answered, "but I am a goo

you are going on space the first of the year. Our rule is a year on salary before spa

enty-five dollars a week to wealth beyond his most fanciful dreams of six months ago. Not having the money-getting instinct and being one of those who compare their work with the best instead of

f investment. "I have been not badly off on twenty-five dollars a week," he thought. "With, well, say forty dollars a week I shall be able t

ful counting-up that he could see how that dream of independence had eluded him. A more extensive wardrobe, a little better food, a more comfortable su

was not often, gloomy forebodings as to the future oppressed him. "I shall find myself old," he thought, "with nothing accomplished, with nothing laid by. I shall be an old drudge." He understood the pessimistic tone of his profession. All about him

f first acts. But the exactions of newspaper life, the impossibility of continuous effort at any one piece of work and his natural in

after another had forced the knowledge of his abilities upon the reporters and editors of other newspapers. And he was spoken of as one of the best and in some respects the best "all round reporter" in

magazines and the best books, and using what he read; observing constantly and ever trying to see something that would make "good copy"; turning over phrases in his mind to test the value of words both as to sound and as to meaning. He was an inc

me exciting experience. "Shall I never seize any of these chances that are always thrusting themse