Deathbed Avarice
“I once attended” says the Rev. Leifchild “at the miserable deathbed of an individual who resided at a little distance from my own neighborhood. He had amassed considerable property, which he tenaciously retained, and seldom broke in upon by liberality. Though he made a profession of godliness, he lived principally to himself, and was not rich towards God. Age stole upon him apace; and he was then naturally compelled to think of relinquishing all he possessed, and of leaving it amongst his surviving relatives, who displayed great eagerness to lay their hands upon it.
“After the service on Sabbath morning, one of his married daughters, who belonged to my congregation, entreated me to accompany her to her father’s sick chamber, and in the interval between the services of the day, to soothe him and prepare him for his last hour. Little suspecting the other object which she concealed under this general one, and which she hoped to find me instrumental in accomplishing, I consented. On our arrival we found the dying man, propped up in his bed, wearing a perplexed and anxious countenance, though somewhat relieved by my presence, and by the recollection of my character and office. His other married daughter had already arrived, and, when I entered the room, was occupied in warmly entreating him, ere he departed this world, to cancel a bond for a considerable amount which he had lent to her husband. Upon hearing this, my guide, his other daughter, as earnestly besought him not to comply with her sister’s petition, and thus to deprive her family of what they thought themselves entitled to expect. Hesitating and trembling, he looked first to one daughter, then to the other, and finally to me, and entreated me to persuade his daughters to leave him in quiet, and afterwards to administer to him some religious instruction and comfort. One of them, on the contrary, now appeared to have brought me as an advocate on her behalf, and wished me to use my influence on her side. It was in vain, therefore, that I sought and awaited an opportunity to question and instruct the sufferer. I more than once attempted to ascertain from him the state of his mind, but was interrupted by the renewed entreaties of his daughters addressed to their father, and their altercations with one another. As his strength declined, theirs seemed to increase; their eagerness respecting the bond growing as their father’s interest in the topic declined. He desired to turn to more important matters; they to fix him to this. It was not his approaching death that troubled them so much as the approaching decision by death in the affair of the lent money. Scarcely any scene could be more powerfully illustrative of the accursed passion of avarice. Here were four persons present in the chamber of death; the dying man in vain, and very feebly, more by looks than words, supplicating repose; two daughters urging their respective claims in the very face of death; and a minister of the Gospel deeply distressed at the whole, yet unable to effect an alteration, and prevented from exercising the duties of his office by those who ought to have been the first to wish them performed.
“As the time for evening service was now drawing on, I explained the necessity for my departure, and turned towards the door. When I looked back, ere leaving, I saw the wretched man casting at me an imploring look, which exceedingly distressed me, and haunted me as I went to my residence. What followed I cannot recount; for I took no trouble to inquire concerning the parties, having been so pained by that short interview that I was unwilling to recur to the event or revive the circumstances. ‘Surely,’ I said within myself, ‘every man walketh in a vain show; surely he is disquieted in vain; he heapeth up riches, and cannot tell who shall gather them’” (Ps. 39:6).
“After the service on Sabbath morning, one of his married daughters, who belonged to my congregation, entreated me to accompany her to her father’s sick chamber, and in the interval between the services of the day, to soothe him and prepare him for his last hour. Little suspecting the other object which she concealed under this general one, and which she hoped to find me instrumental in accomplishing, I consented. On our arrival we found the dying man, propped up in his bed, wearing a perplexed and anxious countenance, though somewhat relieved by my presence, and by the recollection of my character and office. His other married daughter had already arrived, and, when I entered the room, was occupied in warmly entreating him, ere he departed this world, to cancel a bond for a considerable amount which he had lent to her husband. Upon hearing this, my guide, his other daughter, as earnestly besought him not to comply with her sister’s petition, and thus to deprive her family of what they thought themselves entitled to expect. Hesitating and trembling, he looked first to one daughter, then to the other, and finally to me, and entreated me to persuade his daughters to leave him in quiet, and afterwards to administer to him some religious instruction and comfort. One of them, on the contrary, now appeared to have brought me as an advocate on her behalf, and wished me to use my influence on her side. It was in vain, therefore, that I sought and awaited an opportunity to question and instruct the sufferer. I more than once attempted to ascertain from him the state of his mind, but was interrupted by the renewed entreaties of his daughters addressed to their father, and their altercations with one another. As his strength declined, theirs seemed to increase; their eagerness respecting the bond growing as their father’s interest in the topic declined. He desired to turn to more important matters; they to fix him to this. It was not his approaching death that troubled them so much as the approaching decision by death in the affair of the lent money. Scarcely any scene could be more powerfully illustrative of the accursed passion of avarice. Here were four persons present in the chamber of death; the dying man in vain, and very feebly, more by looks than words, supplicating repose; two daughters urging their respective claims in the very face of death; and a minister of the Gospel deeply distressed at the whole, yet unable to effect an alteration, and prevented from exercising the duties of his office by those who ought to have been the first to wish them performed.
“As the time for evening service was now drawing on, I explained the necessity for my departure, and turned towards the door. When I looked back, ere leaving, I saw the wretched man casting at me an imploring look, which exceedingly distressed me, and haunted me as I went to my residence. What followed I cannot recount; for I took no trouble to inquire concerning the parties, having been so pained by that short interview that I was unwilling to recur to the event or revive the circumstances. ‘Surely,’ I said within myself, ‘every man walketh in a vain show; surely he is disquieted in vain; he heapeth up riches, and cannot tell who shall gather them’” (Ps. 39:6).
