“I came to Chicago at the opening of the World’s Fair to seek employment. I came up the Mississippi River as far as St. Louis, full of hope and confidence. The trip up the river gave new life to this feeling. I knew I was competent, and I was resolved to succeed. I landed at one of the nearby depots and taking up my valise started up town. I turned into State Street, and as I did so, found myself in a steady stream of human beings, each hurrying by as if his life depended upon his speed, taking no notice of his fellows, pushing and jostling them, and each with a weary, jaded, anxious look upon his face. As I gazed at this mighty torrent I was dismayed, I got as far as State and Madison Streets, and then I put my valise upon the pavement, and leaning against a convenient lamp-post, watched them as they passed me by; they came by hundreds, thousands, all with eager, restless gait that I now know so well; all with the weary, anxious, careworn expression I have mentioned, as if trying to reach some distant goal within a given time. They seemed to say to me, 'we would gladly stop if we could, and rest by the way, but we must go on and on and know no rest.’ I asked myself what chance have I here? Can I keep up with this mighty, eager, restless throng, or will they pass me, and leave me behind?” “Well,” he added, with a sad smile, “I have managed to keep up with them, but I tell you it’s a hard strain. We are all living too fast; we are working too hard, we grind, grind at our treadmills all day and we grind too hard, we break down long before we should, this haste, this furious pace at which we are going, at business, at pleasure, at everything, is the great curse of Chicago life.” Now, my friend’s opinion is shared in by hundreds, thousands of the most sensible men of the city, but they are powerless to save themselves from the curse they know to be upon them. So they must join the crowd, and rush on and on, seeking the glittering prize of wealth and fame. The common opinion that Chicago is the paradise for humbugs and tricksters is somewhat overdrawn. These people do abound here, beyond a doubt; but they are short-lived. They flourish today and are gone tomorrow, they take no root, and have no hold upon any genuine interests; they attain no permanent success. It is only genuine merit that succeeds in the great city. Men are here subjected to a test that soon takes the conceit out of them. They are taken for just what they are worth, and no more, and he must show himself a man indeed, who would take his place among the princes of trade, or among the leaders of thought and opinion. He may bring with him from his distant home the brightest of reputations, but here he will have to begin at the very bottom of the ladder and mount upward again. It is slow work, so slow that it tries every quality of true manhood to its utmost.