Rich and Poor
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"Our conversation," said Mr. Barton, a gentleman who sat talking, one pleasant evening, with his children, "has brought to mind the story of a discontented man, that I once heard. His name was Willis. He was always complaining and finding fault with God's Providence. Nothing happened just as he wanted it. He enjoyed a tolerably good income, the result of industry and skill in his business; but, although all his real needs were supplied, he was far from being satisfied."
"Then I think he must have been a very unreasonable man," said William, the oldest son, a lad in his fifteenth year.
"Not more unreasonable than a great many others; nor, perhaps, more unreasonable than we all are sometimes," replied Mr. Barton. "But if I remember rightly, I wrote the story down when I heard it, and, if I can find it in my desk, will read it to you."
Mr. Barton went to his desk, and, after searching among his papers for some time, said —
"Yes, here it is." And he brought out a few sheets of paper, from which he read the following story:
"I think," said Mr. Benjamin Willis, speaking to a neighbor, "that I am as good as Mr. Jones, and quite as deserving of prosperity as he is. They say that Providence is impartial. But it will be hard to make me believe that. If it is so, why is it that the worst people have generally the most of life's blessings; while those who would do some good in the world with money, if they had it, can scarcely get enough to keep soul and body together?"
"I suppose it is all best as it is," replied the neighbor. "At least, I am willing to believe so. God is too wise to err in regard to his creatures — and too good to be unkind to them. My doctrine is, to do the best I can — to do my duties in life faithfully and earnestly — and let the result come out as it will, satisfied in my own mind that all will be well."
"I wish I could think and feel so, but I can't," replied Mr. Willis. "It is impossible to make me believe that all that happens is best for me. Do you think it was best for me to lose a thousand dollars last year to a man who cheated me out of that sum?"
"I suppose it was," said the neighbor, "or it wouldn't have happened."
"You can't make me believe that doctrine," returned Mr. Willis, shaking his head. "It was all for the best, too, I suppose, when I fell and broke my leg, and couldn't attend to business for three or four months?"
"No doubt of it. When I get sick, and my business suffers in consequence; or when I meet with losses and disappointments, I say to myself, 'This is permitted for some wise purpose, and I will try and think that it is a blessing in disguise.'"
"It's all very well for you, if you can do it; but I can't," replied Mr. Willis. "I don't believe in such blessings in disguise. They are no blessings to me."
"The time may come when you will think differently," said the neighbor.
"I doubt that very much," returned Mr. Willis, and then they parted.
Mr. Jones, to whom allusion was made, had hired a vessel, and sent out a cargo of flour to the West Indies, upon which he had made a large sum of money. At the same time that his vessel sailed, Mr. Willis sent one out, also with a cargo of flour, in expectation of getting a handsome return. It so happened that the vessel of Mr. Jones reached its destination four days earlier than those of Mr. Willis. Mr. Jones, of course, got a high price. When the cargo of Mr. Willis came, prices had fallen so low, that his flour scarcely brought its cost. This was what had worried his mind, and set him to complaining against Providence. He thought himself a great deal better man than Mr. Jones, and felt quite angry with theGreat Disposer of all events for favoring Mr. Jones and disappointing him in his scheme of profit. "Mr. Jones," said he to himself, "is a selfish and bad man, and does no good at all with his money, and yet everything he touches is turned into gold; while I, who would make a much better use of riches, if I had them — am permitted barely to make a living. Don't tell me about a wise, good, and impartial Providence — I don't believe a word of it."
In this state of mind Willis came home in the evening. His children ran out to meet him, when they saw him coming; but he had no kind words for them. His wife stood at the door to welcome him; but he did not return her pleasant smile. There was a warm fire in the grate, and, soon after he came in, cheerful lights burned in the family sitting-room. His comfortable chair was moved up to its usual place by one of his children; another brought his slippers; and all seemed rejoiced that he had come home again, and were anxious to show the love that was in their hearts. But all these great blessings, freely given by a good Providence, Mr. Willis did not then feel to be blessings, because he had been disappointed in the adventure he had made with a cargo of flour.
By the time the tea-bell rang, the cold and silent manner of Mr. Willis had caused all of his children to shrink from him. Two of them had taken their books and were reading, and the two youngest had stolen quietly away, and seated themselves at a distance. No cheerful conversation passed around the table at tea-time, for Mr. Willis had nothing to say; and a single glance at his face was enough to check, in the children, all desire to speak.
After tea, Mr. Willis retired, alone, into the parlor, and sit down there to brood river his disappointment, and complain against Providence for permitting Mr. Jones to make several thousand dollars profit on his flour, while he had made nothing. The more he thought about it, the more unhappy he felt, for, in complaining against Providence, he permitted murmuring and complaining spirits to have access to his mind, which they filled with doubt, dissatisfaction, and unhappiness. He had been in this unpleasant state for nearly half an hour, when a drowsy feeling came over him. He leaned his head back against the large chair in which he was sitting, and closed his eyes. He had been sitting thus, it seemed to him, for only a moment or two, when he heard the door open; on looking around, an old man, whom he had never seen before, was standing in the room. His face had a serene and benevolent look. He approached Mr. Willis, and taking a chair that was near him, said, in a low voice, while he looked earnestly at him, "God is good."
The words and tones of the old man chilled through the heart of Mr. Willis. He tried to speak, but his tongue refused to do its usual office.
"God is good," resumed the old man. "He is good to all, and kind even to the complaining and unthankful. His tender mercies are over all his works. But man, poor, short-sighted man, is ever doubting his goodness; is ever seeing his gifts dispensed with a partial, instead of a wise and generous hand. Your complaints have been heard. He who, because he knows what is in man, knows what is best for him, has, thus far in your life, so disposed all events as to make them subserve the best and highest interest of your immortal soul. He gave you all the good things of this life that it was possible to give you, without doing your soul an injury. But, because He would not curse you with wealth, you murmured against him, and called his providence unjust. Behold, you are given up to the desires of your own heart. Money you can now have in abundance."
The old man, after saying this, arose slowly from the place where he had sat down, and, turning away, walked silently from the room. He had been gone only a few moments, it seemed to Mr. Willis, when the door opened, and one of his clerks walked in, holding a letter in his hand, which he said had been sent to the store after he left by a merchant in whose package it had come. The letter proved to be from the captain of the vessel, in which his flour had been shipped. It stated that he had refused to sell at the price he had agreed to take, as mentioned in a former letter, and had sailed for a neighboring island, where he obtained a very handsome price for the whole cargo. This made the profit of the voyage, four thousand dollars to Mr. Willis, who was now as much elated as he was before depressed. The singular visit of the old man was at once forgotten, in the gladness of mind that followed this unexpected news.
From this period, the life of Mr. Willis seemed to be one whirl of excitement. There appeared little or no intervening space between the time of his reception of this letter and the morning; nor between his parlor and his counting-room. He next found himself at his desk, busy with schemes for making money. Another adventure was planned, and executed in great haste. It was even more successful than the first. Business increased at every point, and all his operations were profitable. Money flowed in to him, rapidly, from almost every quarter. In his eagerness for gain, he scarcely allowed himself sufficient time to eat and sleep. He took no pleasure in his family; the old evening home-circle was broken up. He had no time to indulge in pleasures of this kind. The consequence was, that his children, as they grew up, felt but few attractions at home, and wandered away.
Before these prosperous times came, Mr. Willis used to go regularly with his family to church, every Sunday; but he had no inclination to attend public worship now. It was irksome to him. He would much rather stay at home, and think over his plans and business for the coming week.
Years went by with almost the speed of days. His children grew up and passed from under his care. One son became dissipated, another fell into dishonest practices, and his oldest daughter was married to a man whose unkindness and evil courses were breaking her heart. These things began to seriously disturb the mind of Mr. Willis. Eager as he was for more money, and successful as were all his efforts to attain it, he could not be indifferent to these sad consequences of his neglect of his children.
One day there was presented to Mr. Willis, the opportunity of making a very large sum of money, provided he would enter into a scheme that must certainly result in serious loss and injury to others.
The only thing that made him hesitate about entering into this scheme, was the fear that his reputation might suffer. He thought nothing of what his neighbors might lose, nor of the spiritual injury that he would himself sustain. All day he pondered over the golden opportunity which had presented itself, and, in the evening, he still thought about it, while sitting alone, as he was now accustomed to do, in the parlor, musing on plans for getting more gain. Every argument, for and against the scheme, was carefully weighed, and at length it was deliberately settled in his mind, that he would enter into it, and risk all danger of suffering in the good opinion of others.
While contemplating, in a pleasant mood, the rich return he would get from this new mode of acquiring wealth, he was disturbed by the entrance of someone, and looking up he saw the venerable old man who had visited him, in the same place, years before. His countenance was not so mild as then; but upon it there rested a severe expression. He advanced close to Mr. Willis, and stood looking at him for some time in silence. At length he said —
"You have had your wish."
A tremor and a fear seized upon the heart of Mr. Willis.
"God has given you over," continued the old man, "to your own evil lusts. Wisely he withheld from you that which he knew would prove to be your ruin, and the ruin of your children; but you complained against him. With a pleasant home, innocent children, and all things needful for bodily comfort and worldly well-being, you were not satisfied. You envied your neighbors the goods they possessed, and made yourself miserable because you were not as rich as they were; and now, in your eager pursuit of wealth, you are about doing a great wrong — you are about robbing, in fact, your neighbor of what is rightfully his. Will this make you happy? No — only the wise and good are happy. A conscience stained with evil, is no pleasant companion. Are you a better man for the wealth you have been permitted to accumulate? No — you are a worse man, and your eternal condition will be a hundred-fold more miserable. And how is it with your children, the precious jewels given into your care by God? What account of them are you prepared to render?"
At these words the mind of Mr. Willis was filled with anguish.
"Come," said this strange monitor, and he moved toward the door. An impulse, that he could not resist, caused Mr. Willis to follow him. As he stepped into the hall, he startled at the sight of one of his sons lying in deep intoxication upon the floor.
"There is one of these precious jewels!" said the old man, sternly. "His ruin is the price you paid for gold. — But come!"
The unhappy father moved on after the mysterious old man, who passed into the street, and walked rapidly along for a considerable distance, until he reached the court-house, where he entered. At the bar stood the oldest son of Mr. Willis, arraigned for forging the signature of his employer to a check, and drawing the money. The trial, it seemed, had drawn to a close, the jury had brought in their verdict of guilty, and the judge was pronouncing sentence upon the trembling culprit — a sentence of imprisonment for many long years.
"While you were in the eager pursuit of wealth," said the old man, as the officer took the criminal in charge, and bore him away, "you scarcely thought or cared for your children. This son, inheriting from you a desire to possess what was not his own, was never taught the evil of theft, nor led, with all possible diligence, into the practice of honesty, in little as well as great things. No — you had not time to think about or care for him. The getting of money was of far more consequence than the spiritual health of your children. — But come!"
The old man turned from the court-room, and the wretched father followed him. In a little while they entered a house, and went up into one of the chambers. A low cry of fear and pain fell upon his ear as he reached the door of this chamber. As he entered, he saw the husband of his unhappy daughter Jane, with a face like that of a madman, raising a billet of wood with which to strike her. The blow, if it fell, he was conscious must deprive her of life. Instantly he felt paralyzed in every limb. The missile hung suspended in air over the unprotected head of his child; but he could not move a step for her defense; nor could he even cry out. For a moment or two, there was a wild struggle in his bosom; then his senses reeled, and he felt like a man falling through space. Suddenly all was changed, and he was sitting alone in his parlor, with his head resting against the back of the large cushioned chair in which he had seated himself. Startling up, he stood for some moments on the floor, striving to collect his scattered senses. These were not fully restored until he heard the voice of his little daughter Jane at the door, calling his name, and asking him to let her in.
"Thank God that it is all, all a dream I" he exclaimed, drawing a long breath.
"And was it, then, only a dream, father," eagerly asked Henry Barton. "Didn't Mr. Willis get rich?"
"No, Henry, he didn't get rich. And all this was only a dream," replied the father.
"Wasn't it strange that he should have just such a dream as that?" said William. "It seems as if it were sent to him from Heaven, to make him see how wrong it was to find fault with Providence."
"No doubt it came by the permission of that wise and good Providence against which he was ever complaining, and for the very purpose you suppose," replied Mr. Barton.
"And do you think, father," inquired Mary, "that if Mr. Willis had been permitted to get rich, that he would have acted just as the dream made him act?"
"That I cannot tell, my daughter. But, as he couldn't get rich, although he tried very hard to accumulate money, I am very sure that there was something in him which would have caused riches to have injured him very seriously."
"Spiritually, you mean, father?"
"Of course I do. Always when we think of the operations of Divine Providence toward us, we should bear in mind that they, in every case, regard, as I have before told you,eternal ends."
"I will try and not forget that as long as I live," said Mary. "Often things do not happen just as I could wish them to happen, and then I am very apt to feel fretted, and wish that it were different. But this, I see, is very wrong."
"It certainly is, Mary. In everything, little and great, which happens in our whole lives — the Lord is present in his Divine providence, overruling all for good. Our disappointments, our losses, and our crosses — are all permitted for our spiritual good. And if we will but bear this in mind as we travel on through our journey of life, we shall be happier and better men and women than would otherwise be the case."
"And all this is true, as well with the richest as with the poorest," remarked William.
"Yes, my son. The earth is the Lord's and the fullness thereof, and he could give bountifully to all. But it would do very many more harm, spiritually, than good, to receive liberally of these benefits, and therefore all do not receive them alike. It is no respect for people which causes the Lord to make some rich and some poor; but it comes from his infinite love to all, to save all from the evils and corruptions of their own hearts. This being so, you can easily see how everything in the Lord's providence must have reference to man's salvation."
The children listened to their father with great attention. They all looked more serious than usual, but still they felt a deep quiet in their hearts; and there was peace there, and a feeling of confidence in the Lord that he would order every event of their future lives for the best.
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