Recreations for Millionaires

— I fancy that it is an instinct common to all which makes us dislike things forced upon us, imposed upon our will by an external necessity. This lawless instinct I know is strong in me. Something that I might have no particular objection to, were a choice about it allowed me, becomes instantly distasteful when I find myself compelled to accept it. The less important the matter the more perversely I am often set against it. I do not want to read the book that all the world is reading and talking about, and if I give in to pressure I take it up with something of prejudice against the unoffending author. If I am undecided whether or not to go out for a walk, and possibly lean toward remaining within, no sooner does anything happen to necessitate this than I am seized with a fervent desire to escape. I have a strong sense of freedom, in short, and hate to be cabined, cribbed, confined, — as in many ways, alas! we all are and must be, some more, some less. For this reason it is so unpleasant to be poor, even relatively so. Poverty is not degradation, but it is limitation ; it shuts one up in bounds, ties one as to time, and restricts the free enjoyment of the senses and æsthetic instincts. Wealth means freedom, or may mean it, though in fact there are no more pitiable slaves than some men to whom riches bring loss, not gain, all other desires being merged in the one passion of mere money-getting.

I have come a long way — all round by Robin Hood s barn, as the picturesque phrase goes — to reach a simple point and offer a suggestion to those whom it may concern. I was wondering, the other day, what I should do for my amusement if I were the owner of millions, and I thought I should like to he original, to strike out some new device for getting the benefit of my money. I was considering its purely personal use, putting aside all thought of its use for others, from which, of course, the highest satisfaction is derived. There are many ways of enjoying riches, I thought, and yet it seems as though there might be more. Suppose that I explored the world thoroughly and at my leisure; that I made delightful trips in my yacht; that from time to time I added to the adornments of my house, — or rather houses, for I should like one among the hills, and one by the sea, a villa on Como, and perhaps another elsewhere ; suppose that I bought all the pictures I wanted, and added to the treasures in my choice library, — what else could I contrive for my own especial pleasure and that of my intimate friends ? Thus meditating, there occurred to me an idea which appeared good. If I were possessed of a trifle of fifty millions or so, I should appropriate a portion of my income, say $20,000, for the payment of the salaries of four musicians, whose time and talent should be entirely at my disposal. I am extremely fond of chamber music, and am sure I could keep them pretty regularly employed. Old King Cole had fiddlers three, but I should want four. That number would suffice for ordinary purposes, and if a quintette, sextette, or septette were to be performed, additional musicians could be brought in for the occasion. In this manner the music could be enjoyed as it never can be under other circumstances. I should control the selection of pieces for the matinée or soirée musicale, and indulge myself with the pleasure of calling for a repetition of any composition or any movement I preferred. One of the drawbacks to the full delight of a musical performance is the evanescence of the soul-thrilling sounds ; no sooner is the andante or adagio begun than it is ended. Above all, I could summon these men at any moment to my presence. Whether in jolly mood like King Cole, or sentimental as Olivia’s Duke, restless or serene, sad or simply grave, there at my hand would be the food and the medicine which ministers to the senses and the spirit of him that bath ears to hear.

I mentioned this idea to a friend of mine, and found it commended itself immediately. I asked if he had any original designs stored in his head for the amusement of millionaires. Yes, he said, he had conceived a project of a similar sort. “ If I had a really large fortune, not a mere fifty millions,” he went on, “ I should build a model theatre, and engage a competent manager, who should hire actors of first-rate talent to form a stock company, so that the city I lived in should contain one playhouse where persons who know what good acting is, and I among them, should never fail to find entertainment furnished of the very finest in its kind. I am fond of the drama, and have been familiar with the stage since early boyhood, and in the present lamentable condition of things I find myself deprived of my favorite pastime, as actors of any decided merit for the most part set forth to perambulate the continent, — in their slang, ‘go on the road ’ in the character of ‘ stars, supported by a few wretched sticks that were never so much as rockets at their best.”

I offer these suggestions to any gentleman who is embarrassed by an annual surplus in his treasury.