Claire sighed deeply, but made no answer.
“More money could not do it,” she added.
“Money would procure us many comforts that we do not now possess,” said the young man.
“I doubt this, Edward. It might give more of the elegancies of life; but, as I have often said, these do not always produce corresponding pleasure. If they come, without too ardent seeking, in the good pleasure of Providence, as the reward of useful and honest labour, then they may increase the delights of life; but never otherwise. If the heart is set on them, their acquirement will surely end in disappointment. Possession will create satiety; and the mind too quickly turns from the good it has toiled for in hope so long, to fret itself because there is an imagined higher good beyond. Believe me, Edward, if we are not satisfied with what God gives us as the reward of useful toil to-day, we will not be satisfied with what he gives to-morrow.”
“Perhaps you are right, Edith; I believe you are. My mind has a glimpse of the truth, but to fully realize it is hard. Ah, I wish that I possessed more of your trusting spirit!”
“We are both cared for, Edward, by the same infinite love—cared for, whether we doubt and fear, or trust confidingly.”
“It must be so. I see it now, I feel it now—see it and feel it in the light of your clearer intuitions. Ah, how different from this pure faith is the faith of the world! Men worship gold as their god; they trust only in riches.”
“And their god is ever mocking them. To-day he smiles upon his votary, and to-morrow hides his face in darkness. To-day he gives full coffers, that are empty to-morrow. But the true riches offered so freely to all by the living God are blessed both in the getting and in the keeping. These never produce satiety, never take to themselves wings. Good affections and true thoughts continually nourish and re-create the mind. They are the soul’s wealth, the perennial fountains of all true enjoyment. With these, and sufficient for the body’s health and comfort, all may be happy: without them, the riches of the world have no power to satisfy.”
A pause ensued, during which the minds of both wandered back a little.
“If you feel,” said Edith, recalling the words of her husband, “that there is danger in remaining where you are”—
“That was hastily spoken,” Edward Claire interrupted his wife, “and in a moment of weakness. I must resist the evil that assaults me. I must strive with and overcome the tempter. I must think less of this world and its riches; and in my thoughts place a higher value upon the riches without wings of which you have spoken to me so often.”
“Can you remain where you are, and be out of danger?” asked Edith.
“There is danger everywhere.”
“Ay; but in some positions more imminent danger. Is it well to court temptation?”
“Perhaps not. But I cannot afford to give up my place with Jasper.”