"I would not fret myself
to death for this loss. I would, rather, be thankful for the wealth
still left in my possession."

Mrs. Aiken shook her head.

"No, William, the same spirit that makes you restless and discontented
now, would be with you, no matter how greatly improved might be your
external condition. Mr. Freeman was once as poor as you are. Do you
think him happier for his riches? Does he enjoy life more? Has wealth
brought a greater freedom from care? Has it made his sleep sweeter?
Far, very far from it. Riches have but increased the sources of
discontent."

"This is not a necessary consequence. If Mr. Freeman turn a blessing
into a curse, that is a defect in his particular case."

"And few, in this fallen and evil world, are free from this same defect,
William. If wealth were sought for unselfish ends, then it would make
its possessor happy. But how few so seek riches! It is here, believe me,
that the evil lies."

Mrs. Aiken spoke earnestly, and something of the truth that was in her
mind, shed its beams upon the mind of her husband.

"You remember," said she smiling, "the anecdote of the rich man of New
York, who asked a person who gave utterance to words of envy towards
himself--'Would you,' said he, 'take all the care and anxiety attendant
upon the management of my large estates and extensive business
operations, merely for your victuals and clothes?' 'No, indeed, I would
not,' was the quick answer. '_I get no more_,' said the rich man,
gravely. And it was the truth, William. They who get rich in this world,
pass up through incessant toil and anxiety; and, while they _seem_ to
enjoy all the good things of life, in reality enjoy but little. They get
only their victuals and clothes. I have worked for many rich ladies, and
I do not remember one who appeared to be happier than I am. And I am
mistaken if your experience is not very much like my own."

One evening, a few days after this time, Aiken came home from his work.
As he entered the room where his wife and children sat, the former
looked up to him with a cheerful smile of welcome, and the latter
gathered around him, filling his ears with the music of their happy
voices. The father drew an arm around one and another, and, as he sat in
their midst, his heart swelled in his bosom, and warmed with a glow of
happiness.

Soon the evening meal was served--served by the hands of his wife--the
good angel of his humble home. William Aiken, as he looked