prolongs the sufferers' lives, it is true, but is, at the same time,
sending down strains of insanity and weakness into future generations.
My philosophy of life is this: make yourself as happy as possible, and
try to make those happy whose lives come in touch with yours; but to
attempt to right the wrongs and ease the sufferings of the world in
general is a waste of effort. You had just as well try to bail the
Atlantic by pouring the water into the Pacific."

This tremendous flow of serious talk from a man I was accustomed to
see either gay or taciturn so surprised and overwhelmed me that I
could not frame a reply. He left me thinking over what he had said.
Whatever was the soundness of his logic or the moral tone of his
philosophy, his argument greatly impressed me. I could see, in spite
of the absolute selfishness upon which it was based, that there was
reason and common sense in it. I began to analyze my own motives, and
found that they, too, were very largely mixed with selfishness. Was it
more a desire to help those I considered my people, or more a desire
to distinguish myself, which was leading me back to the United States?
That is a question I have never definitely answered.

For several weeks longer I was in a troubled state of mind. Added to
the fact that I was loath to leave my good friend was the weight of
the question he had aroused in my mind, whether I was not making a
fatal mistake. I suffered more than one sleepless night during that
time. Finally, I settled the question on purely selfish grounds, in
accordance with my millionaire's philosophy. I argued that music
offered me a better future than anything else I had any knowledge of,
and, in opposition to my friend's opinion, that I should have greater
chances of attracting attention as a colored composer than as a white
one. But I must own that I also felt stirred by an unselfish desire