Larger Life to which Jesus, the Christ, calls all of the children of
men. Why will one choose a life that is small and contracted, when there
is within his reach the life that is full and complete--the Larger Life?
Why will he be content with the pleasures of the body and the joys of
the mind when he can have added to them the delights of the spirit? How
can he delay acceptance of Christ's offer to ennoble that which he has,
and to add to it the things that are highest and best and most enduring?
This is the life that Christ brought to light when He came that men
might have _life_ and have it more _abundantly_.
VI
THE VALUE OF THE SOUL
The fact that Christ dealt with this subject is proof conclusive that
it is important, for He never dealt with trivial things. When Christ
focused attention upon a theme it was because it was worthy of
consideration--and Christ weighed the soul. He presented the subject,
too, with surpassing force; no one will ever add to what He said. Christ
used the question to give emphasis to the thought which He presented in
regard to the soul's value.
On one side He put the world and all that the world can contain--all the
wealth that one can accumulate, all the fame to which one can aspire,
and all the happiness that one can covet; and on the other side He
put the soul, and asked the question that has come ringing down the
centuries: "What shall it profit a man if he gain the whole world and
lose his own soul?"
There is no compromise here--no partial statement of the matter. He
leaves us to write one term of the equation ourselves. He gives us all
the time we desire, and allows the imagination to work to the limit, and
when we have gathered together into one sum all things but the soul, He
asks--What if you gain it all--ALL--ALL, and lose the soul? What is the
profit?
Some have thought the soul question a question of the next world only,
but it is a question of this world also; some have thought the soul
question a Sabbath-day question only, but it is a week-day question as
well; some have thought the soul question a question for the ministers
alone, but it is a question which we all must meet. Every day and every
week, every month and every year, from the time we reach the period of
accountability until we die, we--each of us--all of us, weigh the soul;
and just in proportion as we put the soul above all things else we
build character; the moment we allow the soul to become a matter of
merchandise, we start on the downward way.
Tolstoy says that if you would investigate the career of a criminal it
is not sufficient to begin with the commission of a crime; that you must
go back to that day in his life when he deliberately trampled upon his
conscience and did that which he knew to be wrong. And so with all of
us, the turning point in the life is the day when we surrender the soul
for something that for the time being seems more desirable.
Most of the temptations that come to us to sell the soul come in
connection with the getting of money. The Bible says, "The love of money
is the root of all evil." Or, as the Revised Version gives it, "A root
of all kinds of evil."
Because so many of our temptations come through the love of money and
the effort to obtain it, it is worth while to consider the laws of
accumulation. We must all have money; we need food and clothing and
shelter, and money is necessary for the purchase of these things. Money
is not an evil in itself--money is, in fact, a very useful servant. It
is bad only when it becomes the master, and the love of it is hurtful
only because it can, and often does, crowd out the love of nobler
things.
But since we must all use money and must in our active days store up
money for the days when our strength fails, let us see if we can agree
upon God's law of rewards. (See lecture on "His Government and Peace.")
How much money can a man rightfully collect from society? Surely, there
can be no disagreement here. He cannot rightfully collect more than he
honestly earns. If a man collects more than he earns, he collects what
somebody else has earned, and we call it stealing if a man takes that
which belongs to another. Not only is a man limited in his collection of
what he honestly earns, but will an honest man _desire_ to collect more
than he earns?
If a man cannot rightfully collect more than he honestly earns, it is
then a matter of the utmost importance to know how much money a man can
honestly earn. I venture an answer to this, namely, that a man cannot
honestly earn more than fairly measures the value of the service which
he renders to society. I cannot conceive of any way of earning money
except to give to society a service equivalent in value to the money
collected. This is a fundamental proposition and it is important that it
should be clearly understood, for if one desires to collect largely from
society he must be prepared to render a large service to society; and
our schools and colleges, our churches and all other organizations
for the improvement of man have for one of their chief objects the
enlargement of the capacity for service.
There is an apparent exception in the case of an inheritance, but it is
not a real exception, for if the man who leaves the money has honestly
earned it, he has already given society a service of equivalent value
and, therefore, has a right to distribute it. And money received by
inheritance is either payment for service already rendered, or payment
in advance for service to be rendered. No right-minded person will
accept money, even by inheritance, without recognizing the obligation
it imposes to render a service in return. This service is not always
rendered to the one from whom this money is received, but often to
society in general. In fact, most of the blessings which we receive come
to us in such a way that we cannot distinguish the donors and must make
our return to the whole public. If one is not compelled to work for
himself he has the larger pleasure of working for the public.
But I need not dwell upon this, because in this country more than
anywhere else in the world we appreciate the dignity of labour and
understand that it is honourable to serve. And yet there is room for
improvement, for all over our land there are, scattered here and there,
young men and young women--and even parents--who still think that it is
more respectable for a young man to spend in idleness the money some one
else has earned than to be himself a producer of wealth. As long as this
sentiment is to be found anywhere there is educational work to be done,
for public opinion will never be what it ought to be until it puts the
badge of disgrace upon the idler, no matter how rich he may be, rather
than upon the man who with brain or muscle contributes to the Nation's
wealth, the Nation's strength and the Nation's progress.
But, as I said, the inheritance is an apparent, not an actual,
exception, and we will return to the original proposition--that one's
earnings must be measured by the service rendered. This is so vital a
proposition that I beg leave to dwell upon it a moment longer, to ask
whether it is possible to fix in dollars and cents a maximum limit to
the amount one can earn in a lifetime.
Let us begin with one hundred thousand dollars. If we estimate a working
life at thirty-three and one-third years--and I think this is a fair
estimate--a man must earn _three_ thousand dollars per year on an
average for thirty-three and one-third years to earn one hundred
thousand dollars in a lifetime. I take it for granted that no one will
deny that it is possible for one to earn this sum by rendering a service
equal to it in value, but what shall we say of a million dollars? Can a
man earn that much? To do so he must earn _thirty_ thousand dollars a
year for thirty-three and one-third years. Is it possible for one to
render so large a service? I believe it is. Well, what shall we say
of ten millions? To earn that much one must earn on an average _three
hundred_ thousand dollars a year for thirty-three and one-third years.
Is it possible for one to render a service so large as to earn so vast
a sum? At the risk of shocking some of my radical friends I am going to
affirm that it is possible.
But can one earn an _hundred million_? Yes, I believe that it is even
possible to serve society to such an extent as to earn a hundred million
in the span of a human life, or an average of _three million_ a year for
thirty-three and one-third years. We have one man in this country who is
said to be worth five hundred million. To earn five hundred million one
must earn on an average _fifteen_ million a year for thirty-three and
one-third years. Is this within the range of human possibility? I
believe that it is. Now, I have gone as high as any one has yet gone
in collecting, but if there is any young man here with an ambition to
render a larger service to the world, I will raise it another notch, if
necessary, to encourage him. So almost limitless are the possibilities
of service in this age that I am not willing to fix a maximum to the sum
a man can honestly and legitimately earn.
Not only do I believe that one _can_ earn five hundred million, but I
believe that men _have_ earned it.
In this and other countries many in public life might be mentioned,
for even in politics men have great opportunities, which, if rightly
improved, enable them to render incalculable service to their fellowmen.
But let us go outside of politics. What shall we say of the man who gave
to the world a knowledge of the use of steam and revolutionized the
transportation of the globe? How much did he earn? And the man who
brought down lightning from the clouds and imprisoned it in a slender
wire so that it lights our homes, draws our traffic across the land and
carries our messages under the sea; what did he earn? And what of the
man who showed us how to hurl our messages thousands of miles through
space without the aid of wire? And how much did the man earn who taught
us how to wrap the human voice around a little cylinder so that it can
be laid away and echo throughout the ages?
Take a very recent invention, the gasolene engine. It has already given
us the automobile and the flying machine, and heaven only knows what yet
may come with that gasolene engine. My first ride in an automobile was
taken in the campaign of 1896; since then something like seventeen
million automobiles have been brought into use.
Have you thought of the value of the ice machine? In Apalachicola,
Florida, they have erected a little monument to a former citizen, Dr.
John Gorry. A statue of him will be found in the capitol at Tallahassee,
and the state of Florida has put another in the Hall of Fame at
Washington. Out of his brain came the idea that made it possible for the
world to have ice to-day without regard to the temperature outside. What
did Gorry earn when he gave the world the ice machine?
When I first visited the Patent Office at Washington I saw a model of
the first sewing machine. On it was a card on which was written:
"Mine are sinews superhuman,
Ribs of brass and nerves of steel;
I'm the iron needle woman,
Born to toil but not to feel."
What did the man earn who gave the world a sewing machine?
These are only a few of the great inventions. Let us take up another
group. To show how wide is the field of measureless endeavour, I call
attention to the work of scientists. Who will measure the value of
anesthetics in the treatment of disease and injury? What of vaccination
and the labours of Pasteur? Who will estimate the value of the service
rendered by the man who gave us a remedy for typhoid? In 1898 hundreds
died of typhoid fever in the little army that was raised for the war
with Spain--twenty-seven of my regiment died of that disease. Now we
have a remedy so complete that of the nearly a million men who reached
the battle-line in France not one died of typhoid, and only one hundred
and twenty-five of the four millions called to the colours.
Have you tried to estimate the service rendered by Reed, who, in finding
a remedy for yellow fever, made the tropics habitable and made it
possible for the United States to add the Panama Canal to our great
achievements?
But the field is larger still. Raikes established a Sunday school and
now we have Sunday schools all over the world; Williams organized a
Young Men's Christian Association and now there are nine thousand
associations and more than a million and a half members march under the
banners of that organization, half of them in the United States. Forty
years ago a young preacher in Portland, Maine, gathered a few young
people about him and formed a Christian Endeavour Society; now it
numbers more than four million members. That young preacher, Dr. Francis
E. Clark, is now one of the great religious leaders of the world and is
Commander-in-Chief of this militant organization which is larger than
the army that did our part in the World War. What has he earned?
Near Rochester, New York, there is a little town that has the proud
distinction of being the birthplace of Frances Willard. There was
nothing to distinguish her from other little girls when she was in
school, but when she reached womanhood she gave her heart to a great
cause; she became president of the Woman's Christian Temperance Union,
probably the greatest of the organizations among women ever formed.
Under her leadership that organization brought into the schools of the
land instruction as to the effect of alcohol upon the system and
that did more than any other one thing, I think, to bring National
Prohibition. The state of Illinois has placed the statue of this great
woman in the Hall of Fame in the National Capitol; she is the first
woman to be thus honoured. What has she earned?
And so I might continue, for the name of the world's great benefactors
is legion. And besides those whose services were of incalculable value
a multitude have earned lesser sums ranging down to a modest fortune.
Every one can earn enough to supply all needs. Every time I speak to
the students of a college, high school, or primary grade I cannot help
thinking that within the room there may be a boy or girl who will catch
a vision of great achievement and, consecrating a life of service, do a
work so valuable that all the arithmetics will not compute its worth.
But if I could furnish you a list containing the names of all who since
time began rendered a service worth five hundred millions, one thing
would be true of every one of them; namely, that never in a single case
did the person collect the full amount earned. Those who have earned
five hundred millions have been so busy earning it that they have not
had time to collect it, and those who have collected five hundred
millions have been so busy collecting it that they have not had time
to earn it. Then, too, it must be remembered that those who render the
greatest service serve more than their own generation--some serve all
who live afterward so that it is never possible to compute what they
have earned.
And what is more, those who render the largest service do not care to
collect the full amount earned. What could they do with the sum that
they actually earn? Or, what is more important, what would so great a
sum _do with them_?
In that wonderful parable of the Sower, Christ speaks of the seeds that
fell and of the thorns that sprang up and choked them, and He Himself
explained what He meant by this illustration, namely: That the care of
this world and the deceitfulness of riches choke the truth. If the great
benefactors of the race had been burdened with the care of big fortunes,
they could not have devoted themselves to the nobler things that gave
them a place in the affection of their people and in history.
It seems, therefore, that while one cannot rightfully collect more than
he honestly earns, he may earn more than it would be wise for him to
collect. And that brings us to the next question: How much should one
desire to collect from society? I answer, that no matter how large a
service one may render or how much he may earn, he should not desire to
collect more than he can wisely spend.
And how much can one wisely spend? Not as much as you might think--not
nearly as much as some have tried to spend. No matter how honestly money
may be acquired, one is not free to spend it at will. We are hedged
about by certain restrictions that we can neither remove nor ignore. God
has written certain laws in our nature--laws that no legislature can
repeal--laws that no court can declare unconstitutional, and these laws
limit us in our expenditures.
Let us consider some of the things for which we can properly spend
money. We need food--we all need food, and we need about the same
amount; not exactly, but the difference in quantity is not great. The
range in expenditure is greater than the range in quantity, because
expenditure covers kind and quality as well as quantity. But there is a
limit even to expenditure. If a man eats too much he suffers for it. If
he squanders his money on high-priced foods, he wears his stomach out.
There is an old saying which we have all heard, viz., "The poor man is
looking for food for his stomach, while the rich man is going from one
watering place to another looking for a stomach for his food." This
is only a witty way of expressing a sober truth, namely, that one is
limited in the amount of money he can wisely spend for food.
We need clothing--we all need clothing, and we need about the same
amount. The difference in quantity is not great. The range in
expenditure for clothing is greater than the range in quantity, because
expenditure covers style and variety as well as quantity, but there is a
limit to the amount of money one can wisely spend for clothing. If a
man has so much clothing that it takes all of his time to change his
clothes, he has more than he needs and more than he can wisely buy.
We need homes--we all need shelter and we need about the same amount. In
fact, God was very democratic in the distribution of our needs, for
He so created us that our needs are about the same. The range of
expenditure for homes is probably wider than in the case of either food
or clothing. We are interested in the home. I never pass a little house
where two young people are starting out in life without a feeling of
sympathetic interest in that home; I never pass a house where a room is
being added without feeling interested, for I know the occupants have
planned it, and looked forward to it and waited for it; I like to see a
little house moved back and a larger house built, for I know it is the
fulfillment of a dream. I have had some of these dreams myself, and I
know how they lead us on and inspire us to larger effort and greater
endeavour, and yet there is a limit to the amount one can wisely spend
even for so good a thing as a home.
If a man gets too big a house it becomes a burden to him, and many have
had this experience. Not infrequently a young couple start out poor and
struggle along in a little house, looking forward to the time when they
can build a big house. After a while the time arrives and they build a
big house, larger, possibly, than they intended to, and it nearly always
costs more than they thought it would, and then they struggle along the
rest of their lives looking back to the time when they lived in a little
house.
We speak of people being _independently rich_. That is a mistake; they
are _dependency rich_. The richer a man is the more dependent he is--the
more people he depends upon to help him collect his income, and the more
people he depends upon to help him spend his income. Sometimes a couple
will start out doing their own work--the wife doing the work inside the
house and the man outside. But they prosper, and after a while they are
able to afford help; they get a girl to help the wife inside and a man
to help the husband outside; then they prosper more--and they get two
girls to help inside and two men to help outside, then three girls
inside and three men outside. Finally they have so many girls helping
inside and so many men helping outside that they cannot leave the
house--they have to stay at home and look after the establishment.
This is not a new condition. One of the Latin poets complained of "the
cares that hover about the fretted ceilings of the rich!" It was this
condition that inspired Charles Wagner to write his little book entitled
"The Simple Life," in which he entered an eloquent protest against the
materialism which makes man the slave of his possessions; he presented
an earnest plea for the raising of the spiritual above the purely
physical. I repeat, that there is a limit to the amount a man can wisely
spend upon a home.
I need not remind you that the rich are tempted to spend money on the
vices that destroy--money honestly earned may thus become a curse rather
than a blessing.
But a man can give his money away. Yes, and no one who has ever tried it
will deny that more pleasure is to be derived from the giving of money
to a cause in which one's heart is interested, than can be obtained from
the expenditure of the same amount in selfish indulgence. But if one
is going to give largely he must spend a great deal of time in
investigating and in comparing the merits of the different enterprises.
I am persuaded that there is a better life than the life led by those
who spend nearly all the time accumulating beyond their needs and then
employ the last few days in giving it away. What the world needs is not
a few men of great wealth, doling out their money in anticipation of
death--what the world needs is that these men link _themselves_ in
sympathetic interest with struggling humanity and help to solve problems
of to-day, instead of creating problems for the next generation to
solve.
But you say, a man can leave his money to his children? He can, if he
dares. A large fortune, in anticipation, has ruined more sons than it
has ever helped. If a young man has so much money coming to him that he
knows he will never have to work, the chances are that it will sap his
energy, even if it does not undermine his character, and leave him a
curse rather than a blessing to those who brought him into the world.
And it is scarcely safer to leave the money to a daughter. For, if a
young woman has a prospective inheritance so large that, when a young
man calls upon her, she cannot tell whether he is calling upon her
or her father, it is embarrassing--especially so if she finds after
marriage that he married the wrong member of the family. And, I may add,
that the daughters of the very rich are usually hedged about by a social
environment which prevents their making the acquaintance of the best
young men. The men who, twenty-five years from now, will be the leaders
in business, in society, in government, and in the Church, are not the
pampered sons of the rich, but the young men who, with good health and
good habits, with high ideals and strong ambition, are, under the spur
of necessity, laying the foundation for future achievements, and these
young men do not have a chance to become acquainted with the daughters
of the very rich. Even if they did know them they might hesitate to
enter upon the scale of expenditure to which these daughters are
accustomed.
I have dealt at length with these fixed limitations, although we all
know of them or ought to. The ministers tell us about these things
Sunday after Sunday, or should, and yet we find men chasing the almighty
dollar until they fall exhausted into the grave. Dr. Talmage dealt with
this subject; he said that a man who wore himself out getting money that
he did not need, would finally drop dead, and that his pastor would
tell a group of sorrowing friends that, by a mysterious dispensation of
Providence, the good man had been cut off in his prime. Dr. Talmage said
that Providence had nothing to do with it, and that the minister ought
to tell the truth about it, and say that the man had been kicked to
death by the golden calf.