The opulent may be divided into two classes. The employment of the one is to watch over their expenditures. The other study the mode of dissipating their revenue. Can I present, in detail, the cares and vexations which an immense fortune brings? The possessor leaves discussion with his tenants, to commence angry disputes with his workmen. From these he departs to listen to the schemes of projectors, or to the information of advocates. Is not such a result dearly purchased at the expense of repose, independence and time? Would it not be better to relinquish a part of these possessions, in order to dispose, in peace, of the remainder? I admit that a man who devotes himself to lucrative pursuits is not overwhelmed with continual ennui. The banker respires again, after having grown pale over his accounts. A speculation has succeeded, and the enchantment of success banishes his alarms, fatigues and slavery. But he whose purpose in life is to secure as many happy moments as he can, and who sees how many innocent pleasures the other allows to escape him, would refuse his fortune at the price which he pays for it.
Another opulent class inherit fortunes acquired by the industry and sacrifices of their fathers. Rendered effeminate in a school, the reverse of that in which their fathers were trained, without resources in themselves, accustomed from infancy to have their least desires anticipated, under the influence of feeble parents, pliant and servile instructers, greedy servants and a seducing world, their appetite is early palled, and every pleasure in life worn out.
But suppose the rich heir brought up as though he were not rich, destiny places before him a strange alternative. If he succeed in resisting desires which everything excites and favors, what painful struggles! If he yield to them, what effort can preserve him an untainted mind? The experience of all time declares the improbability that he will resist. So many pretended friends are at hand to take up the cause of the present against the future, a cause, too, which always finds a powerful patron in our own bosoms! The pleasures of the senses have, besides, this dangerous advantage, that before we have tasted them we are sufficiently instructed by the imagination, that we shall receive vivid and delightful emotions from their indulgence. We are not certain that pleasures of a higher class have a charm of enchantment until after we have made the happy experiment. Thus everything prepares the opulent for the sadness of satiety, moral disgust and ennui without end, the only suffering of life which is not softened by hope.
You will sometimes see these men at public places where they are professedly in search of amusement, giving no sign of existence except by an occasional yawn. Cast your eyes on those spectators who are alive to the most vivid enthusiasm. They are young students or mechanics who have economised ten days to spend an hour of the eleventh in this amusement![21] It is in clean cottages, in small but well directed establishments, that pleasures are vivid, because they are obtained at a price, and through industry and order. A festival is projected, or a holiday returns. Friends are assembled, and how blithe and free is the joy! A slight economy has been practised to supply the moderate expenses. There is high pleasure in looking forward to the epoch and in making the arrangements in anticipation. There is still more pleasure in the remembrance. When the interval which separates us from pleasure is not very long, even this interval has charms.
What a touching narrative is recorded of the suppers of two of the greatest men of the past age, of whom one was the Abbe de Condillac. Both were so poor that the expenses were reduced to absolute necessaries. But what conversations prolonged the repast, and with what swiftness flew the enchanted hours! Neither great genius nor profound acquirements are necessary to enjoy evenings equally pleasant.
In an establishment of moderate competence, those who compose it rarely leave it. All the joys which spring up in the bosom of a beloved family seem to have been created for them. Give them riches, without changing their hearts, and they would taste less pleasure. New duties and amusements would trench upon a part of that time which had hitherto been sacred to friendship. More conversant with society, they would be less together. Receiving more visitants, they would see fewer friends. Transported into a new sphere where a thousand objects of comparison would excite their desires, they would, perhaps, for the first time, experience privations and regrets.
Women and young people taste the advantages which a retired, pleasant and modest condition offers only so long as they avoid comparisons of that lot with one which the world considers more favored. We must carry into the world a high philosophy, or never quit our retreat.
Persons even of a disciplined reason, just thought and a noble character, may grow dizzy, for a moment, with the splendor and noise of opulence, perceived for the first time. But as soon as they begin to blush and forfeit self-respect in tracing the causes of their intoxication, the scene vanishes, and, as they contemplate and compare, it is replaced by the sentiment of their own happiness. In the midst of the brilliant crowd they experience a legitimate pride in saying, ‘from how many regrets and cares am I saved! How many futilities are here, of which I have no need!’
But I shall be told that opulence has at least this advantage, that it attracts consideration. There is no doubt that many people measure the esteem they pay you by the scale of your riches. You will never persuade them that merit often walks on foot, while stupidity rides in a carriage.