as you will see. Some three years ago Mademoiselle Edmee spoke of the
difficulty she had in bestowing alms so as to do real good. The abbe was
as unskilful as herself. People would impose on them every day and use
their money for bad ends; whereas proud and hard-working day-labourers
might be in a state of real distress without any one being able to
discover the fact. She was afraid that if she inquired into their wants
they might take it as an insult; and when worthless fellows appealed to
her she preferred being their dupe to erring against charity. In this
manner she used to give away a great deal of money and do very little
good. I then made her understand how money was the thing that was the
least necessary to the necessitous. I explained that men were really
unfortunate, not when they were unable to dress better than their
fellows, or go to the tavern on Sundays, or display at high-mass a
spotlessly white stocking with a red garter above the knee, or talk
about 'My mare, my cow, my vine, my barn, etc.,' but rather when they
were afflicted with poor health and a bad season, when they could not
protect themselves against the cold, and heat and sickness, against
the pangs of hunger and thirst. I told her, then, not to judge of the
strength and health of peasants by myself, but to go in person and
inquire into their illnesses and their wants.

"These folk are not philosophers," I said; "they have their little
vanities, they are fond of finery, spend the little they earn on cutting
a figure, and have not foresight enough to deprive themselves of a
passing pleasure in order to lay by something against a day of real
need. In short, they do not know how to use their money; they tell you
they are in debt, and, though that may be true, it is not true that
they will use the money you give them to pay what they owe. They take no
thought of the morrow; they will agree to as high a rate of interest as
may be asked, and with your money they will buy a hemp-field or a set