Words for the Wise | Page 4

had, as alleged, denied himself and family at
every point, and overworked himself to a degree seriously injurious to
his health; but his heart felt lighter after the sense of obligation was
removed.
There was little at home, however, to make him feel cheerful. His wife,
not feeling able to hire a domestic, was worn down with the care and
labour of her large family; the children were, as a necessary
consequence, neglected both in minds and bodies. Alas! there was no
sunshine in the poor man's dwelling.
"Well, Alice," said Mr. Moale, as his wife came and stood by the board
upon which he sat at work, holding her babe in her arms, "I have paid
off another debt, thank heaven?"
"Whose?"

"Petron's. He believed me a rogue and treated me as such. I hope he
thinks differently now."
"I wish all men were as honest in their intentions as you are."
"So do I, Alice. The world would be a much better one than it is, I am
thinking."
"And yet, William," said his wife, "I sometimes think we do wrong to
sacrifice so much to get out of debt. Our children"--
"Alice," spoke up the tailor, quickly, "I would almost sell my body into
slavery to get free from debt. When I think of what I still owe, I feel as
if I would suffocate."
"I know how badly you feel about it, William; but your heart is honest,
and should not that reflection bear you up?"
"What is an honest heart without an honest hand, Alice?" replied the
tailor, bending still to his work.
"The honest heart is the main thing, William; God looks at that. Man
judges only of the action, but God sees the heart and its purposes."
"But what is the purpose without the act?"
"It is all that is required, where no ability to act is given. William, God
does not demand of any one impossibilities."
"Though man often does," said the tailor, bitterly.
There was a pause, broken, at length, by the wife, who said--"And have
you really determined to put John and Henry out to trades? They are so
young."
"I know they are, Alice; too young to leave home. But"--
The tailor's voice became unsteady; he broke off in the middle of the
sentence.
"Necessity requires it to be done," he said, recovering himself; "and it
is of no avail to give way to unmanly weakness. But for this old debt,
we might have been comfortable enough, and able to keep our children
around us until they were of a more fitting age to go from under their
parents' roof. Oh, what a curse is debt!"
"There is more yet to pay?"
"Yes, several hundreds of dollars; but if I fail as I have for a year past, I
will break down before I get through."
"Let us think of our family, William; they have the first claim upon us.
Those to whom money is owed are better off than we are; they stand in
no need of it."

"But is it not justly due, Alice?" inquired the tailor, in a rebuking voice.
"No more justly due than is food, and raiment, and a home to our
children," replied the tailor's wife, with more than her usual decision of
tone. "God has given us these children, and he will require an account
of the souls committed to our charge. Is not a human soul of more
importance than dollars? A few years, and it will be out of our power to
do our children good; they will grow up, and bear for ever the marks of
neglect and wrong."
"Alice! Alice! for heaven's sake, do not talk in this way!" exclaimed the
tailor, much disturbed.
"William," said the wife, "I am a mother, and a mother's heart can feel
right; nature tells me that it is wrong for us to thrust out our children
before they are old enough to go into the world. Let us keep them home
longer."
"We cannot, and pay off this debt."
"Then let the debt go unpaid for the present. Those to whom it is owed
can receive no harm from waiting; but our children will"--
Just then a man brought in a letter, and, handing it to the tailor,
withdrew. On breaking the seal, Mr. Moale found that it contained fifty
dollars, and read as follows:--
"SIR--Upon reflection, I feel that I ought not to receive from you the
money that was due to me when you became unfortunate some years
ago. I understand that you have a large family, that your health is not
very good, and that you are depriving the one of comforts, and injuring
the other, in endeavouring to pay off your old debts. To cancel these
obligations would be