“Well, Richling,—you know we’re great cowards about saying such things; it’s a part of our poor human weakness and distrust of each other, and the emptiness of words,—but—lately—only just here, very lately, I’ve learned to call the meekest, lovingest One that ever trod our earth, Master; and it’s been your life, my dear fellow, that has taught me.” He pressed the sick man’s hand slowly and tremulously, then let it go, but continued to caress it in a tender, absent way, looking on the floor as he spoke on.
“Richling, Nature herself appoints some men to poverty and some to riches. God throws the poor upon our charge—in mercy to us. Couldn’t he take care of them without us if he wished? Are they not his? It’s easy for the poor to feel, when they are helped by us, that the rich are a godsend to them; but they don’t see, and many of their helpers don’t see, that the poor are a godsend to the rich. They’re set over against each other to keep pity and mercy and charity in the human heart. If every one were entirely able to take care of himself we’d turn to stone.” The speaker ceased.
“Go on,” whispered the listener.
“That will never be,” continued the Doctor. “God Almighty will never let us find a way to quite abolish poverty. Riches don’t always bless the man they come to, but they bless the world. And so with poverty; and it’s no contemptible commission, Richling, to be appointed by God to bear that blessing to mankind which keeps its brotherhood universal. See, now,”—he looked up with a gentle smile,—“from what a distance he brought our two hearts together. Why, Richling, the man that can make the rich and poor love each other will make the world happier than it has ever been since man fell!”
“Go on,” whispered Richling.
“No,” said the Doctor.
“Well, now, Doctor—I want to say—something.” The invalid spoke with a weak and broken utterance, with many breaks and starts that we may set aside.
“For a long time,” he said, beginning as if half in soliloquy, “I couldn’t believe I was coming to this early end, simply because I didn’t see why I should. I know that was foolish. I thought my hardships”— He ceased entirely, and, when his strength would allow, resumed:—
“I thought they were sent in order that when I should come to fortune I might take part in correcting some evils that are strangely overlooked.”
The Doctor nodded, and, after a moment of rest, Richling said again:—