sorrow of the millionaire
The unfortunate millionaire has the responsibility of tremendous wealth without the possiblility of
tremendous wealth without the possibility of enjoying himself more than any ordinary rich man.Indeed
in many things he cannot enjoy himself more than many poor men do,nor even so much,for a drum major
is better dressed,a trainer's stable lad often rides a better horse;the first class carriage is
shared by office boys taking their young ladies out for the evening;everybody who goes down to
Brighton for Sunday rides in the Pullman car;and for what use is it to be able to pay for a
peacock's brain sandwich when there is nothing to be had but ham or beef?The injustice of this state
of things has not been sufficiiently considered.A man with an income of 25 a year can multiply his
income.A man with 50 a year can at least quadruple his comfort by doubling his income.Probably up to
even 250 a year doubled income means doubled comfort.After that the increment of comfort grows less
in proportion to the increment of income until a point is reached at which the victim is satiated
and even surfeited with everything that money can purchase.To expect him to enjoy another hundred
thousand pounds because men like money,is exactly as if you were to expect a confectioner's shopboy
to enjoy two hours more work a day because boys are fond of sweets.What can the wretched millionaire
do that needs a million?Does he want a fleet of yachts,a Rotten Row full of carriages,an army of
servants,a whole city of town houses,or a continent for a game preserve?Can he attend more than one
theatre in one evening,or wear more than one suit at a time,or digest more meals than his butler?
And yet there is no sympathy for this hidden sorrow of plutocracy.The poor alone are pitied.
Societies spring up in all directions to relieve all sorts of comparatively happy people,but no hand
is stretched out to the millionaire,expect to beg.In all our dealings with him lies implicit,the
delusion that he has nothing to complain of,and that he ought to be ashamed of rolling in wealth
whilst others are starving.
tremendous wealth without the possibility of enjoying himself more than any ordinary rich man.Indeed
in many things he cannot enjoy himself more than many poor men do,nor even so much,for a drum major
is better dressed,a trainer's stable lad often rides a better horse;the first class carriage is
shared by office boys taking their young ladies out for the evening;everybody who goes down to
Brighton for Sunday rides in the Pullman car;and for what use is it to be able to pay for a
peacock's brain sandwich when there is nothing to be had but ham or beef?The injustice of this state
of things has not been sufficiiently considered.A man with an income of 25 a year can multiply his
income.A man with 50 a year can at least quadruple his comfort by doubling his income.Probably up to
even 250 a year doubled income means doubled comfort.After that the increment of comfort grows less
in proportion to the increment of income until a point is reached at which the victim is satiated
and even surfeited with everything that money can purchase.To expect him to enjoy another hundred
thousand pounds because men like money,is exactly as if you were to expect a confectioner's shopboy
to enjoy two hours more work a day because boys are fond of sweets.What can the wretched millionaire
do that needs a million?Does he want a fleet of yachts,a Rotten Row full of carriages,an army of
servants,a whole city of town houses,or a continent for a game preserve?Can he attend more than one
theatre in one evening,or wear more than one suit at a time,or digest more meals than his butler?
And yet there is no sympathy for this hidden sorrow of plutocracy.The poor alone are pitied.
Societies spring up in all directions to relieve all sorts of comparatively happy people,but no hand
is stretched out to the millionaire,expect to beg.In all our dealings with him lies implicit,the
delusion that he has nothing to complain of,and that he ought to be ashamed of rolling in wealth
whilst others are starving.
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