man has no better friend, and no worse enemy, than himself. CHAPTER X. ON RICHES. AMONG the greatest and purest pleasures of life everyone would reckon those derived from art and science, literature and music. In none of these does wealth give any great advantage. Statues and pictures are much more keenly enjoyed by artists who understand them, than by rich men who merely own them. "What hath the owner," says Solomon, "but the sight of it with his eyes?" This, moreover, is not confined to the technical owner. Millionaires seldom have the leisure or peace of mind which are necessary in order to appreciate the intense interest of science. Literature again requires leisure, but not money; the best books are the cheapest. A day's work will buy all the books that can be read in a year. A great library is no doubt a splendid possession, but it is probably much more to the librarian than to the owner. The binding and the backs of the books are very likely all the owner ever sees. If he is a statesman or a diplomatist, or occupies any great office in the State; if he is a rich man, and looks much after his own property, he can have but little time for reading. What undue importance we attach to wealth, is indicated by the common expression that a man is ruined if he loses his money. Yet character is better than comfort, and much better than luxury. Horace no doubt expressed the general view of Rome when he said: Et genus et formam Regina pecunia donat.* The French also have a proverb, “Cela est bon et beau, mais de l'argent vaut mieux."** It follows from these exaggerated estimates of what money can do for us, that the thirst for gold often does as much harm as the possession. The desire to possess gold may be even more dangerous than the gold itself. It also prevents a man from enjoying the wealth when he has acquired it; he is always in terror lest he should lose it again. It is not so much the possession of wealth against which we are warned in the Bible, as the love of it: or rather, perhaps, I should * "Sovereign money gives both power and rank." say the possession is dangerous in two ways; first in developing the love, and second as a temptation to the abuse, or at least the misuse. Molière makes Harpagon say to his money: "Hélas! mon pauvre argent! mon pauvre argent! mon cher ami! on m'a privé de toi; et, puisque tu m'es enlevé, j'ai perdu mon support, ma consolation, ma joie; tout est fini pour moi, et je n'ai plus que faire au monde.”* Time is said to be money: it is really much more than money, and as regards time we are all on an equality. No one has more than twenty-four hours in the day. If a man sleeps for eight hours, then for a third of his life he is as well off as the greatest monarch or the richest millionaire; and probably better, for very likely he is more tired and less anxious. But this is not all. Two or three hours are spent on meals. Hunger, we know, is the best sauce, and the industrious workman probably enjoys his food even more than Apicius ever could. This accounts for ten hours at least. Then he loves his wife and children as much, and the time spent with them is as delightful to a sensible working-man as it can be to the greatest monarch. * Le Bourgeois Gentilhomme, We may allow another two hours for exercise, for dressing, undressing, etc., in which certainly the poor man is at no disadvantage. There remain the eight or ten hours of work: mental is certainly more exhausting than physical labour. Is it more interesting? If anyone will read the Court Circular or the American newspapers, I doubt if he would exchange the work of a carpenter or a stone-mason for that of a King or a President. In some respects it may be, I do not say that it necessarily is, more interesting, but the responsibilities and anxieties are certainly greater. At any rate for two-thirds of his time, that is to say, for two-thirds of his life, the rich and powerful has certainly no advantage over the poor man, and for the other third the case is, to say the least, doubtful. It is sometimes said that the pleasure of giving is peculiar to the rich, and no doubt the pleasure of giving is one of the greatest and purest which wealth can bestow. Still the poor also may be liberal and generous. The widow's mite, so far as the widow at any rate is concerned, counts for as much as the rich man's gold. After all, the difference between rich and poor is in this respect but little. "On ne sauroit posséder," says * Nicole, "qu'une petite partie du monde: on peut renoncer à tout le monde." As Amphion remarked long ago in the market at Athens, "How many things there are in the world that I do not want." Moreover, as regards kindness and sympathy, which are far more valuable than money, the poor can give as much as, perhaps even more than, the rich. Money is not wealth. "Thou sayest, I am rich, and increased with goods, and have need of nothing; and knowest not that thou art wretched, and miserable, and poor, and blind, and naked."** There are those whom we look down on as poor, and common, who may be in reality as rich, may possess as grand ideals, and keep as noble company even as any millionaire. That which is of most value in life is exactly that which can neither be bought nor sold. Riches "are but tarnish and gilded vanities, honours but empty and airy bubbles.” *** An Arabic proverb says: "A man's true wealth is the good he does in this world. When he dies, men will ask what property he has left behind him, but Angels will enquire, 'What good deeds hast thou sent before thee?'" |