Adventures in Contentment

John Starkweather laughed. "Well, sir," he said, "I see I've made the acquaintance of a philosopher." "Let us say," I continued, "that you are willing to invest twenty years of your life in a million dollars." ("Merely an illustration," said John Starkweather.) "You have it where you can put it in the bank and take it out again, or you can give it form in houses, yachts, and other things. Now twenty years of my life--to me--is worth more than a million dollars. I simply can't afford to sell it for that. I prefer to invest it, as somebody or other has said, unearned in life. I've always had a liking for intangible properties." "See here," said John Starkweather, "you are taking a narrow view of life. You are making your own pleasure the only standard. Shouldn't a man make the most of the talents given him? Hasn't he a duty to society?" "Now you are shifting your ground," I said, "from the question of personal satisfaction to that of duty. That concerns me, too. Let me ask you: Isn't it important to society that this piece of earth be plowed and cultivated?" "Yes, but----" "Isn't it honest and useful work?" "Of course." "Isn't it important that it shall not only be done, but well done?" "Certainly." "It takes all there is in a good man," I said, "to be a good farmer." "But the point is," he argued, "might not the same faculties applied to other things yield better and bigger results?"