"He is not anxious to see you rise in the world?" said Dunbar.
"Most anxious; for, he says, the higher I rise, the more extended will be my sphere of usefulness. But he, when he speaks of rising in the world, means something more than the mere attainment of wealth, or honorable distinction in the eyes of men."
"What more can he mean?"
"No man truly rises in the world, he says, who does not overcome and rise above the evil and selfish passions of his nature. There is an internal as well as an external elevation; and the latter without the former, is, in his estimation, more of a curse than a blessing. To rise internally as well as externally, we must regard the good of others as well as our own good, in all the acts of our lives. Can you not see this?"
"Dimly; that is all."
"Even that is something."
"But it is altogether impracticable. A kind of Utopian philosophy—beautiful to look upon, but impossible to introduce into real life."
"Not at all, Lawrence. I believe that my father strictly regards the good of others in every business transaction."
"He has that reputation certainly, and, I will believe, justly. I have heard my father say, that he was the most rigidly honest and unselfish man he had ever known. But, look at the result. Your father has attained neither wealth nor eminence, though a man of good mind."
"The reason is plain. Want of education, and early opportunity. But we have just what he lacked."