human heart, may decide the question, whether wife
and children shall grow up affluent, refined, happy,
yes, and good, or be reduced to hard straits, with
all the manifold evils which grow of poverty in the
case of those who have been reduced to it after knowing
other things. You often think, I doubt not, in
quiet hours, what would become of your children, if
you were gone. You have done, I trust, what you
can to care for them, even from your grave: you
think sometimes of a poetical figure of speech amid
the dry technical phrases of English law: you
know what is meant by the law of Mortmain; and you
like to think that even your dead hand may be felt
to be kindly intermeddling yet in the affairs of those
who were your dearest: that some little sum,
slender, perhaps, but as liberal as you could make
it, may come in periodically when it is wanted, and
seem like the gift of a thoughtful, heart and a kindly
hand which are far away. Yes, cut down your present
income to any extent, that you may make some provision
for your children after you are dead. You do not
wish that they should have the saddest of all reasons
for taking care of you, and trying to lengthen out
your life. But even after you have done everything
which your small means permit, you will still think,
with an anxious heart, of the possibilities of Future
Years. A man or woman who has children has very
strong reason for wishing to live as long as may be,
and has no right to trifle with, health or life.
And sometimes, looking out into days to come, you think
of the little things, hitherto so free from man’s
heritage of care, as they may some day be. You
see them shabby, and early anxious: can that
be the little boy’s rosy face, now so pale and
thin? You see them in a poor room, in which you
recognize your study chairs, with the hair coming
out of the cushions, and a carpet which you remember
now threadbare and in holes.
It is no wonder at all that people are so anxious
about money. Money means every desirable material
thing on earth, and the manifold immaterial things
which come of material possessions. Poverty is
the most comprehensive earthly evil; all conceivable
evils, temporal, spiritual, and eternal, may come
of that. Of course, great temptations attend
its opposite; and the wise man’s prayer will
be what it was long ago—’Give me
neither poverty nor riches.’ But let us
have no nonsense talked about money being of no consequence.
The want of it has made many a father and mother tremble
at the prospect of being taken from their children;
the want of it has embittered many a parent’s
dying hours. You hear selfish persons talking
vaguely about faith. You find such heartless
persons jauntily spending all they get on themselves,
and then leaving their poor children to beggary, with
the miserable pretext that they are doing all this
through their abundant trust in God. Now this
is not faith; it is insolent presumption. It
is exactly as if a man should jump from the top of