admit this--of each other; but
what can they do? Once a man has begun to accumulate money, it is
unnatural to stop. He actually gets in a state where he wants more and
more.

This may seem incomprehensible to those who have never suffered from
affluence, and yet they would feel the same way, in a millionaire's
place. A man begins by thinking that _he_ can have money without being
its victim. He will admit that other men addicted to wealth find it hard
to be moderate, but he always is convinced that he is different and has
more self-control. But the growth of an appetite is determined by
nature, not men, and this is as true of getting money as of anything
else. As soon as a man is used to a certain amount, no matter how large,
his ideas of what is suitable expand. That is the way men are made.

Meanwhile the mere having of money has the effect on most men of
insidiously making them more and more dependent on having it. Of course
a man will hate to believe that this is true of himself, but sooner or
later money affects him as drugs do a dope-fiend. It is not really much
joy to him, but it scares him to think of giving it up. When you urge a
rich man to pull himself together, to summon his manhood and try, only
_try_, for a while to depend on himself, he tells you he'd like to,
perhaps, but he hasn't the strength. He can't take life that way. He
can't face the world even a month without money in the bank.

Even so, why should the rest of us feel it's our duty to help? Why not
wait until the rich come to ask our advice, if they're troubled? Ah,
but they wouldn't. They couldn't. The rich have their pride. Their
unfortunate weakness for money may blacken their lives, but they suffer
in silence. They try to conceal it all from us. Their feverish attempts
to find some sunshine in life every evening, the desperate and futile
migrations they make each few months, and the pathetic mental deadness
of their gatherings, they try to keep private. We might never know to
what straits many rich folk have come, were it not for the newspapers
and their kindly society columns. Bless their noble insistence on
showing us the lives of the rich, their portraying with such faithful
care each detail of their ways!

It is no easy matter to reform these rich people offhand. Just to call
at their houses and advise them, when you aren't too busy--that would be
a kindness, of course, but quite far from a cure. Besides, they might
even resent your