to possess the
means of enjoying any of the above named pleasant things. Money is so
much desired, because it is a measure of success; so much regretted,
because we fancy the loss of it leaves us powerless and contemptible.
That kind of satire, therefore, which delights to dwell upon the general
subserviency to wealth is not likely to make men less desirous of riches.
But a man would be likely to estimate more reasonably the possession of
money and of all kinds of self-advancement, if he did but perceive, that
even a man's worldly success is not to be measured by his success for
himself alone, but by the result of his endeavours for the great family
of man.

There is a source of contemplation which nature affords us, one, too,
that is open to the dweller in crowded cities as well as to the shepherd
on Salisbury plain, and which might sometimes suggest the foolishness of
an inordinate love of money. Consider the prospect which each unveiled
night affords us, telling of wonders such as we have hardly the units of
measurement to estimate; and then think how strange it is that we should
ever allow our petty personal possessions of to-day to render us blind to
the duties, which, alone, are the great realities of life. There was
some excuse, perhaps, for the men of olden time, who looked upon this
earth, the birth-place of their gods, as no mean territory. That they
should dote upon terrestrial things was not to be wondered at. But what
is to be said for us who know that this small planet is but a speck, as
it were, from which we look out upon the profusion of immensity. To
think that a man, who knows this, should nevertheless not hesitate to
soil his soul, lying here, cringing there, pursuing tortuous schemes of
most corrupt policy; or that he should ever suffer himself to be
immersed, innocently, if it may be so, in selfish, worldly pursuits,
forgetful of all else; when, at the best, it is but to win some acres of
this transitory earth, or to be noted as one who has been successful for
himself. The folly of the gambling savage, who stakes his liberty
against a handful of cowrie shells is nothing to it.

* * * * *

Perhaps the next thing that is likely to divert you from useful
endeavours for the benefit of others is fear of criticism: you do not
know what the world will say: indeed, they may pronounce you an
enthusiast, which word, of itself, is an icy blast of ridicule to a timid
m