had given up all hope of ever receiving it, I thought I might afford
to be a little generous and not say any thing about the interest;
and so I gave him a receipt in full. Didn't I do right?"

"In what respect?" asked the friend.

"In forgiving him the interest, which I might have claimed as well
as not, and which he would, no doubt, have paid down, or brought me
at some future time."

"Oh, yes. You were right to forgive the interest," returned the
friend, but in a tone and with a manner that struck the merchant as
rather singular. "No man should ever take interest on money due from
an unfortunate debtor."

"Indeed! Why not?" Mr. Petron looked surprised. "Is not money always
worth its interest?"

"So it is said. But the poor debtor has no money upon which to make
an interest. He begins the world again with nothing but his ability
to work; and, if saddled with an old debt--principal and
interest--his case is hopeless. Suppose he owes ten thousand
dollars, and, after struggling hard for three or four years, gets
into a position that will enable him to pay off a thousand dollars a
year. There is some chance for him to get out of debt in ten years.
But suppose interest has been accumulating at the rate of some six
hundred dollars a year. His debt, instead of being ten thousand,
will have increased to over twelve thousand dollars by the time he
is in a condition to begin to pay off any thing; and then, instead
of being able to reduce the amount a thousand dollars a year, he