Finger Posts on the Way of Life

T >> T. S. Arthur >> Finger Posts on the Way of Life

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And now that soft hand was laid gently on the pony's neck, and a
single low word spoken. How instantly were the tense muscles
relaxed--how quickly the stubborn air vanished.

"Poor Dick!" said the maiden, as she stroked his neck lightly, or
softly patted it with a child-like hand.

"Now, go along, you provoking fellow!" she added, in a half-chiding,
yet affectionate voice, as she drew upon the bridle. The pony turned
toward her, and rubbed his head against her arm for an instant or
two; then, pricking up his ears, he started off at a light, cheerful
trot, and went on his way as freely as if no silly crotchet had ever
entered his stubborn brain.

"What a wonderful power that hand possesses!" said I, speaking to my
companion, as we rode away.

He looked at me for a moment as if my remark had occasioned
surprise. Then a light came into his countenance, and he said,
briefly--

"She's good! Everybody and every thing loves her."

Was that, indeed, the secret of her power? Was the quality of her
soul perceived in the impression of her hand, even by brute beasts!
The father's explanation was, doubtless, the true one. Yet have I
ever since wondered, and still do wonder, at the potency which lay
in that maiden's magic touch. I have seen something of the same
power, showing itself in the loving and the good, but never to the
extent as instanced in her, whom, for a better name, I must still
call "Gentle Hand."

A gentle touch, a soft word. Ah! how few of us, when the will is
strong with its purpose, can believe in the power of agencies so
apparently insignificant! And yet all great influences effect their
ends silently, unobtrusively, and with a force that seems at first
glance to be altogether inadequate. Is there not a lesson for us all
in this?

WILL IT PAY?

"I WANT an hour of your time this morning," said Mr. Smith, as he
entered the counting-room of his neighbour, Mr. Jones.

"Will it pay?" inquired Mr. Jones, smiling.

"Not much profit in money," was answered.

Mr. Jones shrugged his shoulders, and arched his eye-brows.

"Time is money," said he.

"But money isn't the all-in-all of life. There's something else in
the world besides dollars."

"Oh yes; and the man that has the dollars can command as much of
this 'something else' that you speak of as he pleases."

"I'm not so sure of that," replied Mr. Smith. "I can tell you
something that money will not procure."

"Say on."

"A contented mind."

"I'll take that risk at a very low percentage, so far as I am
concerned," answered Mr. Jones.

"But, as to this hour of my time that you ask? What is the object?"

"You remember Lloyd who used to do business on the wharf?"

"Yes; what of him? I thought he died in New Orleans a year ago."

"So he did."

"Not worth a dollar!"

"Not worth many dollars, I believe. He was never a very shrewd man,
so far as business was concerned, though honourable and
kind-hearted. He did not prosper after leaving our city."

"Honourable and kind-hearted!" returned Mr. Jones, with a slight air
of contempt. "Such men are as plenty as blackberries. I can point
them out to you by the dozen in every square; but it does not pay to
be on too intimate terms with them."

"Why?"

"You are very apt to suffer through their amiable weaknesses."

"Is this your experience?" inquired Mr. Smith.

"My experience is not very extensive in that line, I flatter
myself," said Mr. Jones; "but I know of some who have suffered."

"I was speaking of Mr. Lloyd."

"Yes--what of him?"

"I learned this morning that his widow arrived in our city
yesterday, and that she needs friendly aid and counsel. It seems to
me that those who knew and esteemed her husband ought not to regard
her with indifference. I propose to call upon her and inquire as to
her needs and purposes, and I want you to accompany me."

"Can't do it," answered Mr. Jones, very promptly.

"Why not?"

"It won't pay," returned Mr. Jones.

"I don't expect it to pay in a business sense," said Mr. Smith;
"but, surely, humanity has some claim to consideration."

"Humanity! humph. Humanity don't pay, Mr. Smith; that's my
experience. I've helped two or three in my time, and what return do
you suppose I received?"

"The pleasing consciousness of having done good to your neighbour."

"Not a bit of it. I lost my money for my pains, and made enemies
into the bargain. When I demanded my own, I received only
insult--that's my experience, Mr. Smith, and the experience of
ninety-nine in a hundred who listen to the so-called claims of
humanity. As I said before--it doesn't pay."

"Then you will not go with me to see Mrs. Lloyd?"

"No, sir. You don't catch me hunting up the widows of broken
merchants. Let them go to their own friends. I'd soon have plenty of
rather unprofitable business on my hands, if I were to engage in
affairs of this kind."

"I hardly think it will pay to talk with you on this subject any
longer," said Mr. Smith.

"I'm just of your opinion," was the laughing answer, "unless I can
induce you to let Mrs. Lloyd remain in ignorance of your benevolent
intentions, and mind your own concerns, like a sensible man."

"Good morning," said Mr. Smith.

"Good morning," replied Jones; "in a week or two I shall expect to
hear your report on this widow-hunting expedition."

"It will pay, I reckon," said Mr. Smith, as he passed from the
store.

"Pay," muttered Jones, a sneer now curling his lip, "_he'll_ have to
pay, and roundly, too, unless more fortunate than he deserves to
be."

A little while after the departure of Mr. Smith, a sallow,
sharp-featured man, with a restless eye, entered the store of Mr.
Jones.

"Ah, Perkins!" said the latter, familiarly, "any thing afloat
to-day?"

"Well, yes, there is; I know of one operation that is worth looking
at."

"Will it pay, friend Perkins? That's the touchstone with me. Show me
any thing that will pay, and I'm your man for a trade."

"I can get you fifty shares of Riverland Railroad stock, at
eighty-two!"

"Can you?" The face of Jones brightened.

"I can."

"All right. I'll take it."

"Give me your note at sixty days, and I'll have the shares
transferred at once."

In five minutes from the time Perkins entered the store of Mr.
Jones, he left with the merchant's note for over four thousand
dollars in his hand. The shares in the Riverland Railroad had been
steadily advancing for some months, and Mr. Jones entertained not
the shadow of a doubt that in a very short period they would be up
to par. He had already purchased freely, and at prices beyond
eighty-two dollars. The speculation he regarded as entirely safe,
and one that would "pay" handsomely.

"I think that will pay a good deal better than hunting up the poor
widows of insolvent merchants," said Mr. Jones to himself, as he
walked the length of his store once or twice, rubbing his hands
every now and then with irrepressible glee. "If I'd been led off by
Smith on that fool's errand, just see what I would have lost.
Operations like that don't go a begging long. But this gentleman
knows in what quarter his interest lies."

Not long after the departure of Perkins, a small wholesale dealer,
named Armor, came into the store of Mr. Jones.

"I have several lots that I am anxious to close out this morning,"
said he. "Can I do any thing here?"

"What have you?" asked Mr. Jones.

"Ten boxes of tobacco, fifty prime hams, ten boxes Havana cigars,
some rice, &c."

Now, these were the very articles Mr. Jones wanted, and which he
would have to purchase in a day or two. But he affected indifference
as he inquired the price. The current market rates were mentioned.

"No temptation," said Mr. Jones, coldly.

"They are prime articles, all; none better to be had," said the
dealer.

"If I was in immediate want of them, I could give you an order;
but"----

"Will you make me an offer?" inquired Armor, somewhat earnestly. "I
have a good deal of money to raise to-day, and for cash will sell at
a bargain."

Mr. Jones mused for some time. He was not certain whether, in making
or requiring an offer, he would get the best bargain out of his
needy customer. At last he said--

"Put down your prices to the very lowest figure, and I can tell you
at a word whether I will close out these lots for you. As I said
before, I have a good stock of each on hand."

For what a small gain will some men sacrifice truth and honour!

The dealer had notes in bank that must be lifted, and he saw no way
of obtaining all the funds he needed, except through forced sales,
at a depression on the market prices. So, to make certain of an
operation, he named, accordingly, low rates--considerably below
cost.

Mr. Jones, who was very cunning, and very shrewd, accepted the
prices on two or three articles, but demurred to the rest, and these
the most important of the whole. Finally, an operation was made, in
which he was a gainer, in the purchase of goods for which he had
almost immediate sale, of over two hundred dollars, while the needy
merchant was a loser by just that sum.

"That paid!" was the self-congratulatory ejaculation of Mr. Jones,
"and handsomely, too. I should like to do it over again, about a
dozen times before night. Rather better than widow speculations--ha!
ha!"

We shall see. On leaving the store of his neighbour, Mr. Smith went
to the hotel at which he understood Mrs. Lloyd had taken lodgings,
and made inquiry for her. A lady in deep mourning, accompanied by
two daughters, one a lovely girl, not over twenty years of age, and
the other about twelve, soon entered the parlour.

"Mrs. Lloyd, I believe," said Mr. Smith.

The lady bowed. As soon as all parties were seated, the gentleman
said--

"My name is Smith. During your former residence in this city, I was
well acquainted with your husband. Permit me to offer my heartfelt
sympathy in the painful bereavement you have suffered."

There was a slight pause, and then Mr. Smith resumed--

"Hearing of your return to this city, I have called to ask if there
are any good offices that I can render you. If you have any plans
for the future--if you want advice--if a friend in need will be of
service--do not hesitate to speak freely, My high regard for your
husband's memory will not suffer me to be indifferent to the welfare
of his widow and children."

Mr. Smith had not purposed making, when he called, so general a
tender of service. But there was something in the lady's fine
countenance which told him that she had both independence and
decision of character, and that he need not fear an abuse of his
generous kindness.

Touched by such an unexpected declaration, it was some moments
before she could reply. She then said--

"I thank you, in the name of my departed husband, for this
unlooked-for and generous offer. Though back in the city, which was
formerly my home, I find myself comparatively a stranger. Yesterday
I made inquiry for Mr. Edward Hunter, an old and fast friend of Mr.
Lloyd's, and to my pain and regret learned that he was deceased."

"Yes, madam; he died about two months ago."

"With him I purposed consulting as to my future course of action;
but his death has left me without a single friend in the city to
whose judgment I can confide my plans and purposes."

"Mr. Hunter was one of nature's noblemen," said Mr. Smith, warmly;
"and you are not the only one who has cause to mourn his loss. But
there are others in our city who are not insensible to the claims of
humanity--others who, like him, sometimes let their thoughts range
beyond the narrow sphere of self."

"My object in returning to this place," resumed Mrs. Lloyd, "was to
get started in some safe and moderately profitable business. A short
time before my husband's removal, by the death of a distant relative
I fell heir to a small piece of landed property, which I recently
sold in New Orleans. By the advice of my agent there, I have
invested the money in fifty shares of Riverland Railroad stock,
which he said I could sell here at a good advance. These shares are
now in the hands of a broker, named Perkins, who is authorized to
sell them at eighty-two dollars a share."

"He'll find no difficulty in doing that, ma'am. I would have taken
them at eighty-three."

At this stage of the conversation, Perkins himself entered the
parlour.

"Ah, Mr. Smith!" said he, "I called at your place of business this
morning, but was not so fortunate as to find you in. I had fifty
shares of Riverland stock, the property of Mrs. Lloyd here, which I
presumed you would like to buy."

"You were not out of the way in your presumption. Have you made the
sale?"

"Oh yes. Not finding you in, I saw Mr. Jones, who took the shares at
a word."

"At what price?"

"Eighty-two. I have his note at sixty days for the amount, which you
know is perfectly good."

"Mrs. Lloyd need not have the slightest hesitation in accepting it;
and if she wishes the money, I can get it cashed for her." Then
rising, he added, "I will leave you now, Mrs. Lloyd, as business
requires both your attention and mine. To-morrow I will do myself
the pleasure to call on you again."

As Mr. Smith bowed himself out, he noticed, more particularly, the
beautiful smile of the elder daughter, whose eyes, humid from
grateful emotion, were fixed on his countenance with an expression
that haunted him for hours afterward.

"I hardly think that paid," was the remark of Mr. Jones, on meeting
Mr. Smith some hours afterward.

"What?" asked the latter.

"Your visit to Lloyd's widow."

"Why do you say so?"

"You lost a bargain which came into my hands, and on which I could
get an advance of a hundred dollars to-morrow."

"Ah, what was it?"

"Perkins had fifty shares of Riverland stock, which he was
authorized to sell at eighty-two. He called on you first; but
instead of being on hand, in business hours, you were off on a
charity expedition. So the ripe cherry dropped into my open mouth. I
told you it wouldn't pay, neighbour Smith."

"And yet it has paid, notwithstanding your prophecy," said Smith.

"It has!"

"Yes."

"In what way?"

But Mr. Smith was not disposed to cast his pearls before swine, and
so evaded the direct question. He knew that his mercenary neighbour
would trample under foot, with sneering contempt, any expression of
the pure satisfaction he derived from what he had done--would
breathe upon and obscure the picture of a grateful mother and her
daughter, if he attempted to elevate it before his eyes. It had
paid, but beyond this he did not seek to enlighten his
fellow-merchant.

Three days later, Mr. Jones is at his desk, buried in calculations
of profit and loss, and so much absorbed is he, that he has not
noticed the entrance of Perkins the broker, through whom he obtained
the stock from Mrs. Lloyd.

"How much of the Riverland Railroad stock have you?" inquired the
broker, and in a voice that sent a sudden fear to the heart of the
merchant.

"A hundred shares. Why do you ask?" was the quick response.

"I'm sorry for you, then. The interest due this day is not
forthcoming."

"What!" Mr. Jones starts from his desk, his lips pale and quivering.

"There's something wrong in the affairs of the company, it is
whispered. At any rate, the interest won't be paid, and the stock
has tumbled down to thirty-five dollars. If you'll take my advice
you'll sell. The first loss is usually the best in these cases--that
is my experience."

It is very plain that one operation hasn't paid, for all its golden
promise--an operation that would hardly have been effected by Mr.
Jones, had he accompanied Mr. Smith on the proposed visit to Mrs.
Lloyd. The fifty shares of stock, which came, as he thought, so
luckily into his hand, would, in all probability, have become the
property of another.

And not a week glided by ere Mr. Jones became aware of the fact that
another operation had failed to pay. A cargo of coffee and sugar
arrived one morning; the vessel containing it had been looked for
daily, and Mr. Jones fully expected to receive the consignment; he
was not aware of the arrival until he met the captain in the street.

"Captain Jackson! How are you? This is really an unexpected
pleasure!" exclaimed the merchant, as he grasped the hand of the
individual he addressed, and shook it warmly.

Captain Jackson did not seem equally gratified at meeting the
merchant. He took his hand coldly, and scarcely smiled in return.

"When did you arrive?" asked Mr. Jones.

"This morning."

"Indeed! I was not aware of it. For over a week I have been
expecting you."

The captain merely bowed.

"Will you be around to my store this afternoon?" asked Mr. Jones.

"I presume not."

There was now, on the part of Mr. Jones, an embarrassed pause. Then
he said--

"Shall I have the sale of your cargo?"

"No, sir," was promptly and firmly answered.

"I have made the consignment to Armor."

"To Armor!" exclaimed Mr. Jones, in ill-concealed surprise.

"He's a perfectly fair man, is he not?" said the captain.

"Oh yes. Perfectly fair. He'll do you justice, without doubt. Still
I must own to being a little disappointed, you were satisfied with
the way your business was done last time."

"Not altogether, Mr. Jones," said Captain Jackson. "You were a
little too sharp for, me--rather too eager, in securing your own
advantage, to look narrowly enough to mine. Such was my impression,
and it has, been confirmed since my arrival this morning."

"That's a grave charge, Captain Jackson," said Mt. Jones; "You must
explain yourself."

"I'm a plain spoken, and a straightforward sort of a man, sir." The
captain drew himself up, and looked particularly dignified. "The
truth is, as I have said, I thought you were rather too sharp for me
the last time. But I determined to try you once more, and to watch
you as closely as a cat watches a mouse. I was on my way to your
store, when I met an old friend, in business here, and, put to him
the direct question as to what he thought of your fairness in trade.
'He's sharp,' was the answer. 'He will not take an undue advantage?'
said I. 'Your idea as to what constitutes an undue advantage would
hardly agree with that of Mr. Jones,' replied my friend. And then he
related the circumstance of your finding Armor in a tight place last
week, and getting from him a lot of goods for two hundred dollars
less than they were worth. I went to Armor, and, on his confirming
the statement, at once placed my cargo in his hands. The commissions
will repair his loss, and give him a few hundred dollars over. I'm
afraid of men who are too sharp in dealing. Are you satisfied with
my explanation?"

"Good morning, sir," said Mr. Jones.

"Good morning," returned, Captain Jackson. And bowing formally, the
two men separated.

That didn't pay," muttered Jones between his teeth, as he moved on
with his eyes cast to the ground, even in his chagrin and
mortification using his favourite word--

"No, it, didn't pay," And, in truth, no operations of this kind do
really pay. They may seem to secure advantage, but always result in
loss--if not in lose of money, in loss of that which should be
dearer to a man than all the wealth of the Indies--his self-respect
and virtuous integrity of character.

On the evening of that day, a pleasant little company was assembled
at the house of Mr. Smith, made up of the merchant's own family and
three guests--Mrs. Lloyd and her daughters. Through the advice of
Mr. Smith, and by timely action on his part, a house of moderate
capacity had been secured, at a great bargain, for the sum of three
thousand dollars, to which it was proposed to remove, as soon as
furniture, on the way from New Orleans, should arrive. The first
story of this house was already fitted up as a store; and, as the
object of Mrs. Lloyd was to get into business in a small way, the
purchase of the property was made, in order as well to obtain a good
location as to make a safe investment. With the thousand dollars
that remained, it was proposed to lay in a small stock of fancy
dry-goods.

In the few interviews held with Mrs. Lloyd by the merchant, he was
struck with the beautiful harmony of her character, and especially
with her womanly dignity. As for the eldest daughter, something
about her had charmed him from the very beginning. And now when, for
the first time, this interesting family were his guests for a social
evening--when he saw their characters in a new aspect--and when he
felt, through the quick sympathy of a generous nature, how grateful
and happy they were--he experienced a degree of satisfaction such as
never pervaded the breast of any man whose love of mere gain was the
measure of his good-will toward others.

How different was the social sphere in the house of Mr. Jones on
that evening! The brow of the husband and father was clouded, and
his lips sealed in silence; or if words were spoken, they were in
moody tones, or uttered in fretfulness and ill-nature. The wife and
children caught from him the same repulsive spirit, and, in their
intercourse one with the other, found little sympathy or affection.
There was a chilling shadow on the household of the merchant; it
fell from the monster form of his expanding selfishness, that was
uplifted between the sunlight of genuine humanity and the neighbour
he would not regard. Alas! on how many thousands and thousands of
households in our own land rests the gigantic shadow of this
monster!

"Will it pay?" is the eager question we hear on all sides, as we
mingle in the business world.

"_Has_ it paid?" Ah, that is the after-question! Reader, is the
monster's shadow in your household? If so, it has _not_ paid.

THE LAY PREACHER.

WHETHER the Rev. Andrew Adkin had or had not a call to preach, is
more than we can say. Enough, that he considered it his duty to
"hold forth" occasionally on the Sabbath; and when "Brother Adkin"
saw, in any possible line of action, his duty, he never took counsel
of Jonah.

Brother Adkin kept a store in the town of Mayberry, and being a man
of some force of character, and not, by any means, indifferent to
this world's goods, devoted himself to business during the six days
of the week with commendable assiduity. It is not the easiest thing
in the world to banish, on the Sabbath, all concern in regard to
business. Most persons engaged in trade, no matter how religiously
inclined, have experienced this difficulty. Brother Adkin's case
did, not prove an exception; and so intrusive, often, were these
worldly thoughts and cares, that they desecrated, at times, the
pulpit, making the good man's voice falter and his hands tremble, as
he endeavoured, "in his feeble way," to break the bread of life.

He had his own trials and temptations--his own stern "exercises of
mind," going to the extent, not unfrequently, of startling doubts as
to the reality of his call to preach.

"I don't see much fruit of my labour," he would sometimes say to
himself, "and I often think I do more harm than good."

Such thoughts, however, were usually disposed of, as suggestions of
the "adversary."

A week in the life of Brother Adkin will show the peculiar
influences that acted upon him, and how far his secular pursuits
interfered with and marred his usefulness as a preacher.

Monday morning had come round again. He had preached twice on the
Sabbath--once to a strange congregation, and with apparent good
effect, and once to a congregation in Mayberry. In the latter case,
he was favoured with little freedom of utterance. The beginning of
the secular week brought back to the mind of Mr. Adkin the old
current of thought, and the old earnest desire to get gain in
business. On the Sabbath he had taught the people that love was the
fulfilment of the law,--now, he had regard only to his own
interests; and, although he did not adopt the broad, unscrupulous
maxim, that all is fair in trade, yet, in every act of buying and
selling, the thought uppermost in his mind was, the amount of gain
to be received in the transaction.

"What are you paying for corn to-day?" asked a man, a stranger to
Mr. Adkin.

"Forty-eight cents," was answered.

"Is this the highest market rate?" said the man.

"I bought fifty bushels at that price on Saturday," replied Mr.
Adkin.

Now, since Saturday, the price of corn had advanced four cents, and
Mr. Adkin knew it. But he thought he would just try his new customer
with the old price, and if he chose to sell at that, why there would
be so much gained.

"I have forty bushels," said the man.

"Very well, I'll take it at forty-eight cents. Where is it?"

"My wagon is at the tavern."

"You may bring it over at once. My man is now at leisure to attend
to the delivery."

The corn was delivered and paid for, and both parties, for the time
being, were well satisfied with the transaction.

The day had nearly run to a close, and Mr. Adkin was in the act of
estimating his gains, when the man from whom he had purchased the
corn entered his store.

"Look here, my friend," said the latter speaking rather sharply,
"you paid me too little for that corn."

"How so?" returned Mr. Adkin, in well-affected surprise.

"You was to pay the highest market price," said the man.

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