f life.

He gave away during his lifetime eight million dollars. When he died he
had four million dollars left, which was distributed, by his will,
largely for the betterment of society. The fact that Peabody left so
much money was accidental. He intended to give this money away, under
his own personal supervision, but Death came suddenly.

Has the world made head the past forty years? Listen, Terese; it has
made more progress during the past forty years than in the two thousand
years preceding.

The entire fortune of George Peabody, including what he gave away during
his life and what he left, was twelve million dollars. This is just the
income of Andrew Carnegie for six months. We scarcely realize how much
civilization smells of paint until we remember that George Peabody was
the world's first philanthropist. No doubt there were many people before
him, with philanthropic impulses, but they were poor. It's easy to
sympathize with humanity when you have nothing to give but advice. The
miracle comes in when great wealth and great love of mankind are
combined in one individual.

In the Occident, giving to the poor is lending to the devil. The plan
has always been more or less of a pastime to the rich, but the giving
has usually been limited to sixpences, with absolute harm to the poor.
All any one should ask is opportunity. Sailors just ashore, with three
months' pay, are the most charitable men on earth--we might also say
they are the most loving and the least lovable. The beggars wax glad
when Jack lumbers their way with a gay painted galley in tow; but, alas,
tomorrow Jack belongs to the poor. Charity in the past has been prompted
by weakness and whim--the penance of rogues--and often we give to get
rid of the troublesome applicant.

Beggary and virtue were imagined to have something akin. Rags and
honesty were sort of synonymous, and we spoke of honest hearts that beat
'neath ragged jackets. That was poetry, but was it art? Or was it just a
little harmless exercise of the lacrimal glands? Riches and roguery were
spoken of in one breath, unless the gentleman was present--and then we
curtsied, cringed or crawled, and laughed loudly at all his jokes.

These things doubtless dated back to a time when the only mode of
accumulating wealth was through oppression. Pirates were rich--honest
men were poor. To be poor proved that you were not a robber. The heroes
in war took cities, and all they could carry away was theirs