“I do not want any son of mine to inherit a million dollars,” declared Mrs. Loeffler.
“Why?” she was asked.
“Because I do not think it does a child any good to have riches which he has not earned. If Leonard can get a fortune by working for it the way his grandfather had to do I shall be the proudest mother in the world, but there is no reason why he should have wealth unless he does earn it. I want my boy to earn what he gets. I don’t want him to get $1,000,000 for nothing. That is how much I think of money. It spoils children and removes the incentive for work, and it is work that shapes a career.”
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WEALTH, COMPARATIVE
A man who gets a million wants another million. If he gets ten millions then he wants to be as rich as Rockefeller. And then he wants the whole world fenced in and fixt up for him. What if a man is as rich as Rockefeller? What is that compared with the State of New York? And suppose a man owned the whole State of New York, what is that compared with the balance of America? And suppose one man owned the whole United States, what is that compared with the balance of the world? And suppose a man owned this whole world? Why, you could put two such worlds in your pocket, and go out to the dog star and stay all night, and you wouldn’t have enough to pay your hotel bill. This whole thing is comparative.—“Popular Lectures of Sam P. Jones.”
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Wealth Diminishing the Smiles—See [Poverty].
WEALTH, RIGHT USE OF
Some years ago an American gentleman was driving past one of the beautiful old homes in rural England, standing in its stately park. He asked the driver who lived there. “Oh,” said the man, “we used to have lots of aristocratic company there. They had plenty of money and they spent it freely. We poor folks were well off then. But now the place belongs to a woman, and she is a Methodist, and everything is going to the bad.” So spoke the countryman, and from his little view this loss of luxury and extravagance was all wrong, even for the poor man. But meanwhile there was another side to the picture. That estate also included a large tenement district in one of the worst portions of London. In wretched hovels, surrounded by saloons and low resorts, the miserable people paid their rents, exorbitant for such quarters, and these rents supplied the funds for the luxury and extravagance of the former owner. But now what has happened? The lady who owns the estate to-day is using her revenues, not for her own luxuries, but in bettering these homes, in driving out these saloons, and in creating a new spirit of love between her and her tenants. A few country yokels get less to spend for drink, but a great city population has more joy in living, and the bitter class distinction between riches and poverty is lessened.—Donald Sage Mackay, “The Threshold of Religion.”