We often hear of men who have been diligent and useful members of society, dying and leaving their wives and families in absolute poverty.  They have lived in respectable style, paid high rents for their houses, dressed well, kept up good visiting acquaintance, were seen at most places of amusement, and brought up their children with certain ideas of social position and respectability; but death has stricken them down, and what is the situation of their families?  Has the father provided for their future?  From twenty to twenty-five pounds a year, paid into an Assurance Society, would have secured their widows and orphans against absolute want.  Have they performed this duty?  No—­they have done nothing of the kind; it turns out that the family have been living up to their means, if not beyond them, and the issue is, that they are thrown suddenly bankrupt upon the world.

Conduct such as this is not only thoughtless and improvident, but heartless and cruel in the last degree.  To bring a family into the world, give them refined tastes, and accustom them to comforts, the loss of which is misery, and then to leave the family to the workhouse, the prison, or the street—­to the alms of relatives, or to the charity of the public,—­is nothing short of a crime done against society, as well as against the unfortunate individuals who are the immediate sufferers.

It will be admitted, that the number of men who can lay by a sufficient store of capital for the benefit of their families, is, in these times of intense competition, comparatively small.  Perhaps the claims of an increasing family absorb nearly all their gains, and they find that the sum which they can put away in the bank is so small, that it is not put away at all.  They become reckless of ever attaining so apparently hopeless an object as that of an accumulation of savings, for the benefit of their families at death.

Take the case of a married man with a family.  He has begun business, and thinks that if his life were spared, he might in course of years be able to lay by sufficient savings to provide for his wife and family at his death.  But life is most uncertain, and he knows that at any moment he may be taken away,—­leaving those he holds most dear comparatively destitute.  At thirty he determines to join a sound life office.  He insures for five hundred pounds, payable to his survivors at his death, and pays from twelve to thirteen pounds yearly.  From the moment on which he pays that amount, the five hundred pounds are secured for his family, although he died the very next day.

Now, if he had deposited this twelve or thirteen pounds yearly in a bank, or employed it at interest, it would have taken about twenty years before his savings would have amounted to five hundred pounds.  But by the simple and beautiful expedient of life assurance, these twenty-six years of the best part of his life are, on this account at least, secured against anxiety and care.  The anticipation of future evil no longer robs him of present enjoyment.  By means of his annual fixed payment—­which decreases according to the profits of the society—­he is secure of leaving a fixed sum at his death for the benefit of his family.