"My fear always is that classics and mathematics and rubbish of that kind will disable a man for the more serious business of life," continued Mr. Martin, "and render him incapable of making and earning money."
"But don't you think that they might rather enable a man to earn his own living?" suggested Paul.
Mr. Martin shook his head. "Such things might enable him to earn his own living, perhaps, but never to make a fortune."
"Is it absolutely necessary to human happiness to make a fortune, I wonder?" queried Paul.
Now Mr. Martin was a very good-tempered man, and the causes of his amiable attitude of mind were two-fold—he was very well-off and he was always sure he was in the right; so he had no grounds for a quarrel with anybody. But when people spoke slightingly of the good things of this world, he was much shocked: he called it "tempting Providence".
"Wealth is the hall-mark of success," he replied rather shortly, "and poverty is the outward and visible sign of failure."
"I can hardly agree with you there, Mr. Martin. Who ever thinks about how much money Shakespeare or Milton made?"
Mr. Martin regarded this remark as childish, so took no notice of it, but calmly continued: "I once knew a man who began life as an errand-boy; and yet when he died he left half a million of money behind him. Now that is what I call success."
"And I once knew of a man who began life as a free-born citizen of no mean city, and was executed as a prisoner at Rome; and who left no fortune behind him save a few letters. Yet the world hardly calls that man a failure."
"Don't you think it is a little irreverent to apply things out of the Bible to every-day life?" suggested Mrs. Martin in a reproachful tone. "It always grates upon my ear when I hear young people do it."