He was the toiler
and the accumulator--the slave who only produced. Miners,
pearl-divers, gold-washers are we, my friend; but what we gather we
fail to possess in that true sense of possession which involves
delight and satisfaction. For us the toil, for others the benefit."
"A flattering picture certainly!" was responded by Mr. Steel, with
the manner of one on whose mind an unpleasant conviction was forcing
itself.
"Is it not true to the life? Death holds out to us his unwelcome
hand, and we must leave all. The key of our treasure-house is given,
to another."
"Yet, is he not bound by our will?" said Mr. Steel. "As we have
ordered, must not he dispense?"
"Why not dispense with our own hands, and with our own eyes see the
fruit thereof? Why not, in some small measure, at least prove if it
be indeed, more blessed to give than to receive? Let us talk plainly
to each other--we are friends. I know that in your will is a bequest
of five thousand dollars to a certain charitable institution, that,
even in its limited way, is doing much good. I speak now of only
this single item. In my will, following your example and suggestion,
is a similar bequest of one thousand dollars. You are forty-five and
I am forty-seven. How long do we expect to live?"
"Life is uncertain."
"Yet often prolonged to sixty, seventy, or even eighty years. Take
sixty-five as the mean.
Pages:
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69