The Banker’s Debt

A wealthy banker in one of our large cities, who is noted for his large subscriptions to charities, and for his kindly habits of private benevolence, was called on by his pastor one evening and asked to go with him to the help of a man who had attempted to commit suicide. They found the man in a wretched house in an alley, not far from the banker’s dwelling. The front room was a cobbler’s shop; behind it, on a miserable bed in the kitchen, lay the poor shoemaker with a gaping gash in his throat, while his wife and children were gathered about him. 'We had been without food for days,' said the woman. 'It is not my husband’s fault. He is a hard-working, sober man. But he could neither get work, nor pay for that which he had done. Today he went for the last time to collect a debt due him by a rich family; but the gentleman was not at home. My husband was weak from fasting, and seeing us starving drove him mad.' The banker, having fed and warmed the family, hurried home and opened his desk. He found there a bill of Michael Goodlow’s for repairing children’s shoes: $10. Michael Goodlow was the suicide. It was the banker’s unpaid debt which had brought these people to the verge of the grave, while at the very same time, the banker had given away thousands in charity. The cobbler recovered, and will never want a friend while the banker lives, nor will a small unpaid bill ever again be found on the banker’s table.