Now, as a casual observer, what wage per annum would you
say I was worth?"
It was an awkward question.
"You are afraid that if you spoke candidly you would offend me," he
suggested. "Very well. For the purpose of explaining my theory let
us take, instead, your own case. I have read all your books, and I
like them. Speaking as an admirer, I should estimate you at five
hundred a year. You, perhaps, make two thousand, and consider
yourself worth five."
The whimsical smile with which he accompanied the speech disarmed me.
"What we most of us do," he continued, "is to over-capitalise
ourselves. John Smith, honestly worth a hundred a year, claims to be
worth two. Result: difficulty of earning dividend, over-work, over-
worry, constant fear of being wound up. Now, there is that about
your work that suggests to me you would be happier earning five
hundred a year than you ever will be earning two thousand. To pay
your dividend--to earn your two thousand--you have to do work that
brings you no pleasure in the doing. Content with five hundred, you
could afford to do only that work that does give you pleasure. This
is not a perfect world, we must remember. In the perfect world the
thinker would be worth more than the mere jester. In the perfect
world the farmer would be worth more than the stockbroker. In making
the exchange I had to write myself down. I earn less money, but get
more enjoyment out of life.
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