cely a
pinch, but, to those who have hearts to feel it, a wrench that 'divides
asunder the joints and the marrow.'
A nobler example, because a less personal one, of the pinch of poverty,
is when it prevents the accomplishment of some cherished scheme for the
benefit of the human race. I have felt such a one myself when in extreme
youth I was unable, from a miserable absence of means, to publish a
certain poem in several cantos. That the world may not have been much
better for it if I had had the means does not affect the question. It is
easy to be incredulous. Henry VII. of England did not believe in the
expectations of Columbus, and suffered for it, and his case may have
been similar to that of the seven publishers to whom I applied in vain.
A man with an invention on which he has spent his life, but has no means
to get it developed for the good of humanity--or even patented for
himself--must feel the pinch of poverty very acutely.
To sum up the matter, the longer I live, the more I am convinced that
the general view in respect to material means is a false one. That great
riches are a misfortune is quite true; the effect of them in the moral
sense (with here and there a glorious exception, however) is deplorable:
a shower of gold falling continuously upon any body (or soul) is as the
waters of a petrifying spring. But, on the other hand, the occasional
and precarious dripping of coppers has by no means a genial effect. If
the one recipient becomes hard as the nether millstone, the other (just
as after constant 'pinching' a limb becomes insensible) grows callous,
and also (though it seems like a contradiction in terms) sometimes
acquires a certain dreadful suppleness. Nothing is more monstrous than
the generally received opinion with respect to a moderate competence;
that 'fatal gift,' as it is called, which encourages idleness in youth
by doing away with the necessity for exertion. I never hear the same
people inveighing against great inheritances, which are much more open
to such objections. The fact is, if a young man is naturally indolent,
the spur of necessity will drive him but a very little way, while the
having enough to live upon is often the means of preserving his
self-respect. One constantly hears what humiliating things men will do
for money, whereas the truth is that they do them for the want of it.
It is not the temptation which induces them, but the pinch. 'Give
me neither poverty nor riches,' was A
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