I may add, that none of my predominant inclinations center in those pleasures which are to be purchased: money empoisons my delights; I must have them unadulterated; I love those of the table, for instance, but cannot endure the restraints of good company, or the intemperance of taverns; I can enjoy them only with a friend, for alone it is equally impossible; my imagination is then so occupied with other things, that I find no pleasure in eating.Women who are to be purchased have no charms for me; my beating heart cannot be satisfied without affection; it is the same with every other enjoyment, if not truly disinterested, they are absolutely insipid; in a word, I am fond of those things which are only estimable to minds formed for the peculiar enjoyment of them.
I never thought money so desirable as it is usually imagined; if you would enjoy, you must transform it; and this transformation is frequently attended with inconvenience: you must bargain, purchase, pay dear, be badly served, and often duped.I buy an egg, am assured it is new-laid- I find it stale; fruit in its utmost perfection-'tis absolutely green; a girl, and she is tainted.I love good wine, but where shall I get it? Not at my wine merchant's- he will certainly poison me.I wish to be universally respected; how shall I compass my design? I must make friends, send messages, come, go, wait, and be frequently deceived.Money is the perpetual source of uneasiness; Ifear it more than I love good wine.
A thousand times, both during and since my apprenticeship, have Igone out to purchase some nicety, I approach the pastry-cook's, perceive some women at the counter, and imagine they are laughing at me.I pass a fruit shop, see some fine pears, their appearance tempts me; but then two or three young people are near, or a man Iam acquainted with is standing at the door; I take all that pass for persons I have some knowledge of, and my near sight contributes to deceive me; I am everywhere intimidated, restrained by some obstacle, and with money in my pocket return as I went, for want of resolution to purchase what I long for.
I should enter into the most insipid details was I to relate the trouble, shame, repugnance, and inconvenience of all kinds which Ihave experienced in parting with my money, whether in my own person, or by the agency of others; as I proceed, the reader will get acquainted with my disposition, and perceive all this without my troubling him with the recital.
This once comprehended, one of my apparent contradictions will be easily accounted for, and the most sordid avarice reconciled with the greatest contempt of money.It is a movable which I consider of so little value, that, when destitute of it, I never wish to acquire any;and when I have a sum I keep it by me, for want of knowing how to dispose of it to my satisfaction; but let an agreeable and convenient opportunity present itself, and I empty my purse with the utmost freedom; not that I would have the reader imagine I am extravagant from a motive of ostentation, quite the reverse: it was ever in subservience to my pleasures, and, instead of glorying in expense, I endeavor to conceal it.I so well perceive that money is not made to answer my purposes, that I am almost ashamed to have any, and, still more, to make use of it.
Had I ever possessed a moderate independence, I am convinced Ishould have had no propensity to become avaricious.I should have required no more, and cheerfully lived up to my income; but my precarious situation has constantly and necessarily kept me in fear.Ilove liberty, and I loathe constraint, dependence, and all their kindred annoyances.As long as my purse contains money it secures my independence, and exempts me from the trouble of seeking other money, a trouble of which I have always had a perfect horror; and the dread of seeing the end of my independence, makes me proportionately unwilling to part with my money.The money that we possess is the instrument of liberty, that which we lack and strive to obtain is the instrument of slavery.Thence it is that I hold fast to aught that I have, and yet covet nothing more.
My disinterestedness, then, is in reality only idleness, the pleasure of possessing is not in my estimation worth the trouble of acquiring: and my dissipation is only another form of idleness; when we have an opportunity of disbursing pleasantly we should make the best possible use of it.
I am less tempted by money than by other objects, because between the moment of possessing the money and that of using it to obtain the desired object there is always an interval, however short; whereas to possess the thing is to enjoy it.I see a thing, and it tempts me; but if I see not the thing itself but only the means of acquiring it, I am not tempted.Therefore it is that I have been a pilferer, and am so even now, in the way of mere trifles to which Itake a fancy, and which I find it easier to take than to ask for;but I never in my life recollect having taken a farthing from any one, except about fifteen years ago, when I stole seven francs and ten sous.The story is worth recounting, as it exhibits a concurrence of ignorance and stupidity I should scarcely credit, did it relate to any but myself.
It was in Paris: I was walking with M.de Franceul at the Palais Royal: he pulled out his watch, he looked at it, and said to me, "Suppose we go to the opera?"- "With all my heart." We go; he takes two box tickets, gives me one, and enters himself with the other; Ifollow, find the door crowded; and, looking in, see every one standing; judging, therefore, that M.de Franceul might suppose me concealed by the company, I go out, ask for my ticket, and, getting the money returned, leave the house, without considering, that by then I had reached the door every one would be seated, and M.de Franceul might readily perceive I was not there.
