Mrs. Lofty keeps a carriage--
So do I.
She has dappled grays to draw it--
None have I.--Alma Calder.
Unquestionably, the baby-carriage of the poet, with
contentment, was a far richer establishment than the gilded barouche and
the dappled grays of childless Mrs. Lofty. Riches are often childless;
poverty is often contented. Happiness is a golden spell inwoven with
most of our lives at certain times, whether we be rich or poor. The
first surprise of the newly-rich comes in the non-discovery of
additional happiness. Additional cares and duties come thickly enough.
The greed of the envious, and the demands of the poor who are likewise
needy in thoughtfulness for their more fortunate neighbors, fall upon
the wealthy like a mist. There is no escaping it. As James Russell
Lowell says of a Scotch fog--an umbrella will afford no protection. They
must give all, or accept the hatred of those who believe it to be easier
to give than to receive. "Contentment is natural wealth," says Socrates;
"luxury is artificial poverty." Contentment is generally a sign of a
high class of character. "If two angels were sent down," says John
Newton, "one to conduct an empire and the other to sweep a street, they
would feel no inclination to change employments."