rious virtue, are the tremblings of the balance of
justice through the heart and mind of man.
Experienced men of the world know very well that it is best to pay scot
and lot as they go along, and that a man often pays dear for a small
frugality. The borrower runs in his own debt. Has a man gained any thing
who has received a hundred favors and rendered none? Has he gained
by borrowing, through indolence or cunning, his neighbor's wares, or
horses, or money? There arises on the deed the instant acknowledgment
of benefit on the one part and of debt on the other; that is, of
superiority and inferiority. The transaction remains in the memory of
himself and his neighbor; and every new transaction alters according to
its nature their relation to each other. He may soon come to see that
he had better have broken his own bones than to have ridden in his
neighbor's coach, and that "the highest price he can pay for a thing is
to ask for it."
A wise man will extend this lesson to all parts of life, and know that
it is the part of prudence to face every claimant and pay every just
demand on your time, your talents, or your heart. Always pay; for first
or last you must pay your entire debt. Persons and events may stand for
a time between you and justice, but it is only a postponement. You must
pay at last your own debt. If you are wise you will dread a prosperity
which only loads you with more. Benefit is the end of nature. But
for every benefit which you receive, a tax is levied. He is great who
confers the most benefits. He is base,--and that is the one base thing
in the universe,--to receive favors and render none. In the order of
nature we cannot render benefits to those from whom we receive them, or
only seldom. But the benefit we receive must be rendered again, line for
line, deed for deed, cent for cent, to somebody. Beware of too much good
staying in your hand. It will fast corrupt and worm worms. Pay it away
quickly in some sort.
Labor is watched over by the same pitiless laws. Cheapest, say the
prudent, is the dearest labor. What we buy in a broom, a mat, a wagon, a
knife, is some application of good sense to a common want. It is best
to pay in your land a skilful gardener, or to buy good sense applied
to gardening; in your sailor, good sense applied to navigation; in the
house, good sense applied to cooking, sewing, serving; in your agent,
good sense applied to accounts and affairs. So do you multiply your
presence,
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