"I do not know what 'motive' means," said Agnes.
"It is the spring or cause of our actions. Two persons may give exactly the same sum to help a poor creature in great distress. One gives her shilling for the look of the thing, because she wishes the world to think her generous; the other gives it for the love of God, and so that He accept her offering, cares not if her gift be known by not one being on earth. You must see that the motive of the second is piety, the motive of the first is pride. Both women do the same thing, but one does it to please God, while her neighbour only pleases herself."
"But so long as the money is given," said Agnes, "I don't see that the motive matters very much."
"It matters everything," observed Mrs. White, "in the eyes of Him who readeth the heart. The cause of so much self-righteousness in the world is this: people, respectable people I mean, count up all their own kind actions, and never take the trouble of searching into their motives at all. How few would say to themselves, 'I am honest indeed, but only because I have found that the honest thrive best in the end;' 'I go to church regularly, but only because it is thought a respectable thing to do so;' 'I give freely, but only because I could not bear my neighbours to call me mean;' 'I pay what I owe, but only because if I did not, no one would trust me again.'"
"Do you not see, my child, that in all this the love of God is not the motive? If as much gain, and respect, and praise could be had by breaking God's laws as by keeping them, those who now do good deeds to be seen of men, would do evil ones in their stead."
Perhaps little Agnes was growing sleepy, for Mrs. White could not help perceiving that the child did not follow her argument. The mother did not try to explain herself further; she waited for some opportunity of making her little daughter understand more clearly the truth which was so plain to herself.
On the following morning Agnes came running up to her mother with a look of delight. "See, see!" she exclaimed, "What a beautiful watch my uncle has given me!" and she held up for the widow's admiration a very pretty toy watch! "It looks just as well as yours, mother, indeed I think it much the prettier of the two. Just see,—it has a chain, and seals, and a nice shining face, with all the hours marked on it, and slender little bright hands that I can move to any part with my key! Is not my little watch just as good as yours, mother?"
"As far as the look of the thing goes, yes, my dear," replied the smiling parent.
"There's hardly any difference between them," said Agnes; "only mine looks a little the brighter, because, you know, it is new. Please tell me the time, the exact time, that I may set my watch right."
"A quarter of ten," said Mrs. White.