it my duty so to do and am not animated by any pecuniary object.

Thus came to an end my second attempt at carving out a career.
By now I had grown savage and cynical, rather revengeful also, I
fear. Knowing myself to possess considerable abilities in sundry
directions, I sat down, as it were, to think things over and
digest my past experiences. Then it was that the truth of a very
ancient adage struck upon my mind, namely, that money is power.
Had I sufficient money I could laugh at unjust critics for
example; indeed they or their papers would scarcely dare to
criticise me for fear lest it should be in my power to do them a
bad turn. Again I could follow my own ideas in life and perhaps
work good in the world, and live in such surroundings as
commended themselves to me. It was as clear as daylight, but--how
to make the money?

I had some capital as the result of my father's death, about
£8,000 in all, plus a little more that my two books had brought
in. In what way could I employ it to the best advantage? I
remembered that a cousin of my father and therefore my own, was a
successful stock-broker, also that there had been some affection
between them. I went to him, he was a good, easy-natured man who
was frankly glad to see me, and offered to put £5,000 into his
business, for I was not minded to risk every thing I had, if he
would give me a share in the profits. He laughed heartily at my
audacity.

"Why, my boy," he said, "being totally inexperienced at this
game, you might lose us more than that in a month. But I like
your courage, I like your courage, and the truth is that I do