New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1881-02-27
WHAT DID 1T COST

| this country reaches head, gathers, ana breaks
ut Washington. This is the week for 1t. BY
next Sunday thousands OF our fellow citizens
| will have found out their chances are nit, and
| will settle back to hard work, scOwlinR envi-
ously at their successful brethren For the next
| month or two all men will apparently be divided
| into those who have got office and those who
have not got it. For the rest of the year, oil
the world, even the women and boys, are di-
vided into the successful and the unsuccessful.
| 1t really seems as if there ought to BIO some
other classification. Must We all be sheep or
goats 7 Is there no just mixing OF the breeds
| Has the lean gutter cur, locking ut the PAM
pered lap-dog rolling by in his carriage, no
| compensation Considering that the success
| full men arc but one per cent Of any community,
| there surely must be some comfort apportioned
| 10 the ninety-nine outside, besides that OF bit
ing their thumbs and cursing their luck. In
the Bible, as We all know, Dives paid for his
selfish purple and fine linen in scOrching flames
out Of which poor folk to the present day have
reaped great consolation. But il does not do
TO push the parallels to suit our theories. The
| Dives of to-day is apt to be not n whit more
selfish than the Lazarus at his gate, nor is he
as likely to overvalue money. The mere fact
|
| his lifetime does not at all fit his soul for a
rest on Abraham's bosom. 1t is not good or i'll
| fortune but the use we make OF either, which
will lift or lower our rank IN that life to come.
But, putting the hereafter and all religious
considerations aside, there certainly Is com
pensation for the man inclined to be enviOus Of
his more fortunate noghbor. lie has not the
| melon, but has he not the money which the
| melon cost Our reader, perhaps, would like
! TO have the petty foreign post with its snug
salary, or the st-oflica which will fall to the
lot of two of his townsmen in month or two.
But he has not paid the price they paid for
| them In the anxious months CO waiting, the SER
Witty, the begging Of influence Of men whom
| he despised the loss of lf-respect-sOmetimes
the actual bribery. He has his trade his in
| come, his foot firm on the ground. What need
| he care whether the ms are out or the outs in
| IIe has no melon to eat, but tho money Is in
| his pocket which is worth many melons. His
wife watches with sore heart her old friend
who has grown rich bloom and bouTgeon into
| leader Of fashion in the city. She reads in the
| PAPERS of her receptions, her germans, heI
| costumes, her distinguished guests, and remem-
! hers the days when they were poor neghbors,
happy with their babies, their " )rk, and hOmely
| little gayeties The successful woman strug-
Cling, man9uvring, climbing up to the slippery
| peak of fashion, could tell her how often the
taste of the melon is bitter on her tongue; she
could tell the price she paid for it. She has an
enormous list of friends, chiefly kept up by
cards and glimpses in a ballroom; but the
hearty love of the people in the little village
where she was born, the familiar faces, the
| IN, oin no ot
| faint and fall if she were Gead-she has put
| these things all away from her. They were the
price she paid.
Nothing is bought for nothing. No matter
how useful or desirable the good is which our
neighbor owns, neither he nor we can value it
Justly until we know exactly what it cost him.
| 1t is % great matter just now in ol-boy's
eyes to be the champion college bicyclist or
| hundred yards dash-man in fact that kind OF
sncoess has so dazzed our lads lately as to blind
them to any other. How much sacrifice of
brain, of the brief years which are given an
| American boy to prepare mind, character and
soul for his life's work, went to the perfecting
of those conquering lcgsf At thirty-five, when
their muscles begin to stffcn, their owners will
know how much they cost them.
| We still receive indignant letters from women
who want to earn their living and yet COM
plain that they are snubbed by idle fashionable
| people. We confess we have little pity tor
Them They want the melon and the money
too woman who has set about earnest work
| for which she is fitted, who is able to support
herself ana those dear to her, has solid capital
| Of happiness. 1t Is pitiable to hear her wbim-
per because leaders of society" decline tolcall
| on her or to ask her to their houses. II she
prefer fashion to an income and her duty, the
| remedy is easy Let her throw up her work
and join the innumerable host Of the shabby
genteel, who hang ON the fences of fashionable
| life, spending their energies lin convincing the
canaille that they are inside Of tho magic
bounds, In making velveteen put on tho state OF
velvet or pinchbeck shine like gold. They,
poor wretohes, pay the price to the utteImost
farthing but they never taste the melon.
There is no success which the world values for
which full price must not be paid This adj
mlring world Especially the Younger part OF
it) believes that the book, the picture, the scen-
| tlic discovery. come by inspiration, On electric
| fash. But some home knows the years OF
| drudgery, the exhausted brain and body that
each one costs. Mediocre people who never
| will reach great successes may be comforted by
| knowing that self-respect, uDpretentious,
kindly, rational lives, the homely duties and
friends of every day, are solid possessions
which any man can gain without price, and
which will endure forever.
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