Read Ebook: Riches have wings; or A tale for the rich and poor by Arthur T S Timothy Shay

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has sole reference to what is spiritual and eternal, and so disposes of things, external and worldly, as to make them subserve man's highest and best interests. I believe, therefore, that if it is best for man's eternal state that he should be poor, and have to struggle hard to obtain mere food and clothing, that he will remain poor in spite of a lifelong effort to get rich. And I also believe, that with one tenth of his effort, another may accumulate a large fortune, who is no better, perhaps not so good a man, but whose hereditary evils are of a nature to be best reacted upon in a state of prosperity."

"Very much like fatalism, all that," said the merchant. "What use is there in a man's striving at all?"

"It is any thing but fatalism, Mr. Townsend. And as no man can know the true quality of his internal life, nor what external condition will best react upon it, he is not left to the choice of that condition. Necessity, or a love of gain, causes him to enter into some business or profession, and according to the pressing nature of his necessities, or his desire for wealth, is the earnestness with which he struggles for success. As is best for him, so is the result. To him who needs the disappointments, anxieties, and sad discouragements that attend poverty and reverses of fortune, these come; and to him whose external interests will be best promoted by success, success is given. In all this, human prudence is actually nothing, though human prudence is the natural agent by which the Divine Providence works."

"All that sounds very well, Mr. Carlton, but I don't believe it. My doctrine is, and always has been, that every man who will use the right means, can get rich; and if he will manage his affairs, afterwards, with common prudence, may retain what he has acquired. I certainly, am not afraid of the loss of property. But, may be, I am one of your favored ones, whose spiritual interests are best promoted by a state of prosperity."

"That, of course, is not for you nor I to know, at present," returned the minister, speaking seriously. "The time may come when you will see the whole subject in a different light, and think, perhaps, as I do now."

"Then you prophesy that I will become a broken merchant?"

"No, I prophesy no such thing. Judging from appearances, I should say that few men were less likely to become poor. Still, Riches have Wings, and your possessions may take flight one day, as well as another man's. Mr. Barker, a few years ago, stood as far above the dangers of a reverse as you now do."

"And would have stood there until to-day, but for his own folly. Look what a mistake he made! How any man, of his age and experience, could suffer himself to be tempted into such a mad investment of property, is to me inconceivable. He deserved to fail."

"Heretofore he had always been prudent and far-seeing in all his operations?"

"No man more so."

"But, when it became necessary for his higher and better interests that he should sustain reverses, he lost his prudence, and his mind was no longer far-seeing. Depend upon it. Mr. Townsend, the hand of Providence is in all this! I have seen Mr. Barker frequently since the great change that has taken place in his circumstances. He is not the man that he was. His whole character has softened."

"He must be very miserable."

"To me he seems quite as happy, as before."

"Impossible!"

"No. The wind is tempered to the shorn lamb. He who sends reverses and afflictions for our good, gives strength and patience to bear them. I have seen many families reduced from affluence to poverty, Mr. Townsend, and in but few instances have I seen individuals made more wretched thereby."

"That to me is inconceivable," said the merchant. "I cannot credit it."

"At first, there was great anguish of mind. The very life seemed about to be extinguished. But, when all the wild elements that had come into strife and confusion, had subsided, there came a great calm. The natural life was yet sustained. Its bread and its water were still sure. There was a feeling of confidence that all things necessary for health, comfort, and usefulness, would still be given, if sought for in a right spirit. Poverty, Mr. Townsend, is no curse, nor is wealth a blessing, abstractly considered. They bless or curse according to the effect they produce upon our minds. The happiest man I ever saw, was a poor man, so far as this world's goods were concerned. He was a good man."

There was something in the words of the minister that impressed itself upon the mind of Mr. Townsend, notwithstanding his efforts to put no value upon what he said. Frequently, afterwards, certain expressions and positions assumed, would arise in his thought and produce a feeling of uneasiness. His confidence in human prudence, though still strong, had been slightly impaired.

Mr. Carlton was the minister of a wealthy and fashionable congregation, to whom his talents made him acceptable. Not infrequently did he give offence by his plainness of speech and conscientious discharge of the duties of his office; but his talents kept him in his position. Mr. Townsend was a wealthy merchant, and a member, for appearance sake, of his church. As to religion, he did not possess a very large share. His god was Mammon.

The occasion of the conversation just given, was the failure of a substantial member of the church, for whose misfortunes Mr. Townsend, as might be inferred, felt little sympathy; and less, perhaps, from the fact that he was to be the loser of a few thousands of dollars by the disaster. The minister was on a visit to the house of Mr. Townsend, in the presence of whose family the conversation took place.

"How I do despise this cant--I can call it by no better name," said the merchant, after the minister had left. "I am surprised to hear it from a man of Mr. Carlton's talents. He might talk such stuff as this to me until doomsday, and I would not believe it."

Mr. Townsend had a son and two daughters. The latter, Eveline and Eunice, were present during the conversation with the minister, and noticed the remarks of their father, after Mr. Carlton left. Some time afterward, when they were alone, Eunice, the younger of the two daughters, said, with unusual sobriety of manner, "Father treated what Mr. Carlton said very lightly; don't you think so?"

"Indeed, I don't know," was the thoughtless reply of Eveline, who was noticing the effect of a costly diamond breast-pin with which her brother had, a day or two before, presented her. "Mr. Carlton has a strange way of talking, sometimes. I suppose he would--there! isn't that brilliant, Eunie? If brother John could only see the effect! I'm a thousand times obliged to him. Isn't it splendid, Eunie?"

"It is, indeed, Evie. But what were you going to say about Mr. Carlton?"

"Dear knows! I forget now. John must have given at least five hundred dollars for this pin, don't you think he did?"

"I am sure I don't know. I never think about how much a thing costs."

"Jane Loming's is admired by every body; but the diamonds in this are twice the size of those in hers, and it contains two to one. Just look how purely the light is sent back from the very bosom of each lucid gem. Could any thing be more brilliant! How I love gold and diamonds! They are nature's highest and loveliest achievements."

"In the mineral kingdom," said Eunice, in her gentle way. "But gold and diamonds I love not half so well as I do flowers, nor are they half so beautiful. There is your glittering diamond. There is a flower not only far more beautiful, but with a spirit of perfume in its heart. And when I look into your eyes, sister, how dim and cold appear the inanimate gems that sparkle on your bosom. There are lovelier things in nature, Evie, than gold and diamonds."

"You are a strange girl, Eunie," returned Eveline, playfully. "I don't know what to make of you, sometimes."

"I don't know what there is strange about me, sister," said Eunice. "Have I not said the truth? Is not a flower a lovelier and more excellent thing than a brilliant stone, which, because it is the purest and rarest substance in the mineral kingdom, is prized the highest, but is still only a stone?"

"Would you give a diamond for a flower, Eunie? Tell me that, dear."

"No, because diamonds have a certain value as property, and are rarer than flowers. Flowers spring up every where. With a few seeds and a little earth, or with the fiftieth part of the price of a moderate-sized diamond, I can have them at my will. But, give me a little bouquet of sweet flowers, and I will enjoy it more, and love it better, than all the jewels in my casket."

"I verily believe you would, Eunie. It's like you. And sometimes I half wish that I, too, could find delight in these simple things; that I could love a flower as you do. Flowers are beautiful, and please me at first sight; but I soon grow weary of them, while you will cherish even a half-opened bud, and love it while a leaf retains its beauty and perfume. But, to change the subject, how are you going to dress at Mrs. Glover's, next week?"

"This diamond breast-pin, of course."

"No doubt of that," said Eunice, smiling.

"And you will go, as likely as not, without an ornament, except a flower in your hair."

"Not quite so plain as that, Evie. You know I don't dislike ornament--only the unharmonious profusion of it in which--"

"I indulge, Eunie."

"A simpler style of dress and ornament would doubtless become you better," said Eunice, again smiling. "That, you know, I have always said."

"Yes, and I have always said that a little more of both would make in you a wonderful improvement."

"Perhaps they might. We are all apt to run into extremes; though I think the extreme of plainness is better than its opposite."

"I don't know. All extremes are bad."

"Even the extreme of gay dressing?"

"Certainly. But you know, sister, that I don't plead guilty to that folly. I have attained the happy medium in dress."

"So you say. Well, if yours be the happy medium, Evie, a stage-dancer's must be the extreme."

"That's your opinion, and I won't quarrel with you about it. But it's time, Eunie, that we were selecting our dresses, be they gay or plain."

"So it is; but it won't take me long to make a choice. How would I look in a white muslin, with just a little satin trimming?"

"Nonsense, Eunie! White muslin with satin trimming, indeed!"

"I don't know any thing more beautiful or becoming than white."

"Don't you, indeed! Perhaps I might suggest something?"

"Not for me, Evie," returned Eunice, good-humoredly. "It will be best for each of us to consult her own taste; and if we do run a little into opposite extremes, it will be no very serious matter."

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