“I wish I were rich, I would buy everything,” cried Charlie.
“The sun, moon, and stars?” inquired William. “No; everything that can be had for money.” “That’s not happiness,” said William. “Get your hat, Charlie, and come with me to Mr. Morrison’s,” said his father. “Oh, please not, papa, he is such a disagreeable, miserable old man, with his cross looks and gouty foot, hobbling about and groaning.” “I think you would like to live with him,” said his father. “I, papa? I would rather live down a coal-pit!” “With him you would have all that can be bought with money.” “I see it won’t do,” said Charlie. “Health cannot be bought with money.” “Nor good temper, nor friendship, nor life,” said William. “Above all,” added their papa, “the favour of God cannot be bought with money. Be content with as much of it as God gives, and seek to use it aright.”
“The fear of God and sweet content Yield riches that will ne’er be spent.”.
