University of Virginia Library

9. CHAPTER IX.
Containing a difficulty.

It is a common belief among those who are
more religious than wise, that a man never catches
a cold going to church of a wet Sunday, or being
baptized in midwinter. I am myself of opinion,
the belief of such good people to the contrary notwithstanding,
that many devout persons, by wading
to church in the slush, or washing out their sins in
snow-water, have gone to heaven much sooner than
they expected. In the same way, and on the same
principle of distrusting all miraculous interposition
of Heaven in cases where human reason is sufficient

for our protection, I have my doubts in the
truth of another maxim of great acceptation in the
world,—namely, “that a man never grows poor by
giving.” I believe, indeed, that the charity of a
discreet and truly conscientious man never injures
his fortune, but may, in many instances, actually
tend to its increase; since the love of benevolence
may stimulate him to new labours of acquisition,
that he may have the greater means of doing good.
But I am also of opinion, and I think it may be
demonstrated by a good accountant, that a man
who has a revenue of a thousand a year, and
bestows fifteen hundred in charity, will, in due
course of time, find himself as poor as his pensioners.
When a man hath a goose with golden eggs,
whatever he may do with the eggs, he should take
great care of the goose.

The reader may infer from these remarks, that
my philanthropy was as little profitable to my pocket
as it proved to my person; and such indeed was
the truth. I am of opinion I should myself, in a
very few years, have consumed the whole estate of
Zachariah Longstraw, ample as it was, in works of
charity. How much faster it went with my
nephew and my friend Abel to assist me, may be
imagined. My nephew became a very dragon of
charity, and dispensed my money upon such objects
of pity as he could find (for he soon began to practise
the profession upon what Abel called his own
hook), with a zeal little short of fury; so that, to supply
his demands, I was sometimes obliged even to

stint myself. Had Abel Snipe been equally profuse,
there is no saying how soon I might have found
myself at the end of my estate. But Abel Snipe
was a jewel; his charity was great, but his conscientiousness
was greater; he had ever a watchful
eye to my good; and his solicitude to husband
and improve my means kept his benevolence within
the bounds of discretion.

But, notwithstanding all his care, Abel perceived
that our philanthropy was beginning to eat holes
into my possessions; and coming to me one day
with a long face, he assured me, that, unless some
means were devised to increase my income, we
should soon find ourselves driven to resort to the
capital.

“Verily, and of a truth,” said I, not a whit
frighted at this communication, “and why should
that chill us in the good work, Abel Snipe? Of a
surety, all that I possess, is it not the property of
the poor?”

“Verily,” said Abel, “verily and yea; but if we
betake us to the capital, verily, it will happen that
sooner or later it shall be consumed, and nothing
left to us wherewithal to befriend the afflicted. I
say to thee, Zachariah, thy wealth is, as thou sayest,
the property of the poor; and it becomes thee,
as a true and faithful servant thereof, to see that it
be not wasted, but, on the contrary, husbanded with
care and foresight, and put out to profit, so that the
single talent may become two, and peradventure

three; whereby the poor, as aforesaid, shall be
twice, and, it may be, thrice benefited.”

“Thou speakest the words of sense and seriousness,”
said I, struck by the new view of the case.
“But how shall this happy object be effected?
What shall we do, Abel Snipe, to make the one
talent three, and thereby increase our means of
doing good?”

“Thee nephew Jonathan,” said Abel Snipe, with
a look of devout joy, “is now a changed man, a
man of seriousness and virtue, a scorner of vain
things, and a giver of alms—a man whom we can
trust. I say to thee, Zachariah, thee shall establish
thee nephew in a gainful business, and he shall
make money; thee shall give him what is thee
property for his capital, remaining theeself but as a
sleeping partner: and thus it shall happen that thee
capital shall be turned over three times a year,
producing, on each occasion, dividends three times
as great as now accrue from thy investments: and
thus, Zachariah (and verily it is pleasant to think
upon), where thee now has a thousand dollars of
revenue, thee shall then have nine; and where thee
now relieves nine afflicted persons, thee shall there-upon
relieve nine times nine, which is eighty-one.”

I need not assure the reader that this proposition
of Abel's fastened mightily upon my imagination,
and that I was eager to embrace it; and Jonathan
coming in at the moment, I repeated the conversation
to him, assuring him that, if he thought himself
able, with Abel's assistance, to undertake such

a business, he should have my money to begin
upon instanter, and marry the maiden Ellen into
the bargain.

“Nay, verily,” said Jonathan, “I will not marry,
and I will not do this thing whereof thee speaks.
Uncle Zachariah, thee may think me light of mind
thus to speak of Ellen Wild, who is much lighter;
but, of a surety, I find the spirit moves me to regard
her as one not to be regarded any longer. In
the matter of the money-making, I say, let Abel
Snipe be thy merchant, or whatsoever it may be
thee has determined on; for Abel Snipe is a good
business man, and he knows how to make money.
He shall have my advice and assistance, as far as
may be in my power. But, truly, my thoughts
now run in the paths of the unfortunate; and thither
let my footsteps follow also.”

To this proposal the faithful Abel, with tears in
his eyes (for he was moved that Jonathan should
express such confidence in him at last), demurred,
averring that it would be better, and more seemly,
for Jonathan himself to undertake the affair, he,
Abel Snipe, giving help and counsel, according to
his humble ability. Jonathan objected as before,
and again declared that Abel, and Abel alone, was,
as he expressed it, “the man for my money.” In
short, the two young men, now the best friends in
the world, contested the matter, each arguing so
warmly in favour of the other, that it was plain the
thing could never be determined without my casting
vote, which I, seeing that Jonathan was positive,

and bent upon a life of virtue, gave in Abel's
favour, and it was resolved accordingly that Abel
should be made the money-maker.