Ferdinand Ward may seem an exception to this rule, but he had a born genius for evil, and though he had all the early advantages of Timothy and Samuel the Prophet, with a higher civilization thrown in, so utterly incorrigible was his nature that nothing but prison walls and iron bars could prescribe bounds to his rascality. He is an extraordinary exception, a genius of the other extreme, against whose subtle operations society must always be on its guard; but he is only one of the dangerous exceptions that prove the rule for which I am contending, the rule that early training in finance more, perhaps, than in any other field of human energy, is the great desideratum.
If such a man is unsuccessful, dishonor seldom accompanies his misfortunes. He may pass through the whole catalogue of financial disasters and their natural results. He may fall to the gutter through over-indulgence in liquor and the despair attendant on a run of bad lack or unfortunate connection with wicked partners, but he is still capable of rising from the very ashes of his former self. He will never stoop to swindle, no matter how low the rest of his moral condition may be brought.
No great business can be built up except upon honest and moral principles. It may flourish for a time, but it will topple down eventually. The very magnitude to which the business of Wall Street has grown is a living proof of its moral stamina. It is impossible, in the social and moral nature of things, to unite a large number of men, representing important material interests, except on principles of equity and fair dealing. A conspiracy to cheat must always be confined to a small number.
The most successful men of Wall Street, to my own personal knowledge, are those who came to the Street young and have “gone through the mill,” so to speak; those who have received severe training, who have had some sledgehammer blows applied to their heads to temper them, like the conversion of iron into steel.
These are some of the prerequisites of a successful financial career.
One of the most common delusions incident to human nature in every walk of life is that of a man who has been successful in one thing imagining he can succeed in anything and everything he attempts. In general, overweening conceit of this kind can be cured by simple experiments that bring men to a humiliating sense of their mortal condition and limited capacity. When the experiment is tried in Wall Street, however, to these healthy admonitions are frequently added irreparable disaster and overwhelming disgrace.
I shall note a few examples within the memory of newspaper readers still living. The brief panic of 1884 brought several instances of this character to the surface. Some of them had fought our battles for national existence and preserved the Union when this achievement seemed almost hopeless. Their fame as generals was as extensive as history itself. They had planned and executed projects with success on which the destiny of a great nation, and perhaps the destiny of other nations, had impended, yet when they attempted to manage banks, railroads and financial operations they became hopelessly entangled.
The great captain of the Union’s salvation was as helpless as a babe when Ferdinand Ward and James D. Fish moved upon his works. The eye that took in the whole situation at a glance at Vicksburg, Richmond and Appomatox was totally unable to penetrate the insidious and speculative designs of the “Young Napoleon of finance.”
General Grant was a victim, not so much to the sincere, veracious and unsuspecting attributes which were so largely predominant in that great man, as to his want of early training in financial business affairs, and to the fact that he was unable to appreciate its necessity in dealing with sharp business men of loose morals. Generals Winslow and Porter fell into a similar error of judgment in the West Shore Railroad matter. Their mistake came near being a serious blow to the railroad interests of this country. General Wilson, of the New York and New England, and General Gordon were similarly unfortunate. The common mistake committed by these worthy men, to whom the country owes an inestimable debt of gratitude, was the chief cause of the “general demoralization,” to which Treasurer Jordan facetiously but indignantly alluded when denouncing railroad methods, and which from time to time has played sad havoc with some of the best securities in the country.
Therefore, I say to all who have sons destined for a business career, let your cherished offspring have the advantage of early practical training in the particular line of business for which you may consider them best adapted, and do so, even to the partial neglect of their school and college education. Practical business is the best school and college in which they can possibly graduate. I shall attempt to make this point clearer in another chapter.