After all, he had come on the
ground before competition had fairly set in. He had done nothing by force
or by audacity; he had been slow, cautious, even timorous, and he
confessed inwardly that there were men in his own employ--men on a mere
salary--who were cleverer, readier, more resourceful than he--men who, in
a fair field and on even terms, could have distanced him completely. He
gave the wineglass another turn or two, and did not lift his eyes.
He heard Bingham's voice again. It was declaring that in the history of
every great mercantile city there was a single short period--a passing
moment, almost--on which the citizen who wished to impress himself upon
the community and to imbed himself in the local annals must seize.
Marshall heard him instancing the Fuggers, of Augsburg, and the Loredani
and Morosini, of Venice, and the Medici and Tornabuoni, of Florence,
and many other names alien and all unfamiliar--merchants, most of them,
it seemed, who had perpetuated their name and fame by improving the
precise moment when their town, like plaster-of-Paris, was taking its
"set."
"Make your impression while you may," concluded Bingham. "This is the
time--this very year. The man who makes his mark here to-day will enjoy a
fame which will spread as the fame of the city spreads and its power and
prosperity increases. You know what we are destined to be--a hundred
times greater than we are to-day. Fasten your name on the town, and your
name will grow as the town itself does.
Pages:
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206