CHAPTER XV. A CHRISTIAN PHILANTHROPIST. "So for a good old gentlemanly vice, I think I must take up with avarice." "So thank your stars that matters are no worse, "Oh, for a forty parson power to chant Thy Praise, Hypocrisy! Oh, for a hymn "Who would not wish to be from wealth exempt, I have had the gratification of seeing a Kangaroo, and also an Emu, but not a black Swan, or the Bunyip, supposed by some to be a mysterious combination of fish, flesh, and fowl, only appearing like the great sea serpent at rare intervals. I do not intend to give any general zoological sketches, but to describe an object of Natural History more peculiar in its habits and instincts than even other Australian curiosities. Did you ever meet with a Christian Philanthropist, or at least a philanthropist leaving out the particle applying to Christianity? Did you ever meet with a rich man who told you with a sinister look that his word was as good as his bond; and although at the time you might have an instinctive feeling that he would ultimately swindle you, were compelled to acquiesce in his dictum ? Did you ever meet with a rich man who could commit little meannesses, that you fondly imagined could only be perpetrated by unfortunate individuals in the last stage of pecuniary embarrassment? Did you ever know a rich man who could make long prayers without being possessed of a particle of true Christianity? Did you ever know a rich man who possessed no friend in the world, and if he did bestow anything, nobody would thank him inwardly? Perhaps you may have met with such a personage, but it is to be hoped not. Let us trust that the majority of this class have already emigrated to a country where these social virtues are better appreciated than in England. A philanthropist is perhaps worth knowing, and I, therefore, proceed to illustrate a colonial development of that interesting subject. The wordly maxims of this estimable philanthropist were admirably adapted to the wants of those individuals who are supposed to be born with a silver spoon in their mouths, and wish to preserve the same with safety and additional polish against any of the casualties which beset ordinary persons in their pursuits of wealth in regular commercial enterprize. The axioms of this Euclid of commerce may be particularly recommended to those aspirants of fortune, who have no relatives kind enough to die and leave them fortunes, and have to battle with the world, which, it is admitted, to be an easy place to succeed in without capital. Probably these principles are far superior to any ordinary rule for success in life, and ought to be extensively known in this age of increasing competition and commercial disasters. I trust during the time he had an office, these maxims were printed and encased in a gold frame, for the edification of his hard-worked, and, no doubt, handsomely-remunerated clerks. The concentrated essence of commercial wisdom is illustrated in Gradgrind's maxims as follows:1. Never take any railway shares. 2. Never invest in mines. 3. Never trade beyond half your capital. It is highly desirable that the hard-working and struggling middle classes, with limited capital, should invest in such wretched innovations as railways and the opening out of new mines. The large capitalist, promoter of all the enterprize of a new colony, who can afford to lose a few thousands to the infinite benefit of society, only invests in certain securities, and leaves everything appertaining to risk to inferior and poorer Christians. The third maxim will not injure the majority of mankind, and if carried out by those who are in a position to do so, would undoubtedly increase the commercial enterprize of Britain into more active channels, compared with its present fluctuating and stagnant condition. Gradgrind having received a silver spoon at an early age, has apparently employed a long life for the main object of keeping it intact, and making addi tions to its polish. As a principle, he is indignant at people failing, who have not had sufficient capital to succeed in life. With him the object of life was to accumulate cash, study the principles of banking and investment, with a little theology read backwards to lull him into the pleasing belief that he was eminently adapted for a celestial sphere. I would not do justice to the memory of Gradgrind if I inferred he gave nothing away. When properly and abjectly supplicated, he would give donations to certain chapels which met with his approval of the true principles of dissent; but the recipients, as a rule, from the peculiar nasty manner of bestowal, would not thank him inwardly, as he took care that he would not accidently be guilty of the act of doing anything in a graceful manner. He had no friends, for it is a consolation to know that true friendship is not to be purchased, although the spurious imitation can be obtained by golden favours, even if bestowed in a manner that would make an independent man turn an amateur street scavenger in preference to accepting them. Many have marvelled to see with what meekness a poor satellite, in the shape of a dissenting minister, could submit to paltry indignities from his Christian friend in the hope of picking up a few golden crumbs for the good of divine objects, resulting, perhaps, in the munificent donation of old Gospel Trumpets and Evangelical Reformers for distribution among the poor benighted heathen. On one occasion he told an Independent Minister to hold up the corner of a carpet and measure it, which the latter performed with the agility of a servant out of place; and on another occasion, when this clerical gentleman called with a friend from the country, the poor man, perhaps, with the amiable Christian weakness of showing his importance, actually had the temerity to knock at the front door, which was opened by the redoubtable host himself, who gave his friend, although accompanied by a stranger, the significant and liberal Christian greeting, "Don't you know there is a back door!!!" Gradgrind had a great admiration for a long grace before dinner, in which he prayed with great fervour for the food to be consecrated to his use, and himself to be consecrated for some Celestial operations of a rather indefinite character, which ultimately resulted, shortly after the Amen, in his abusing the butcher for not sending meat of as tender a quality as he expected for his money. Such are a few traits of a Sectarian Christian Philanthropist, who, if he had been a man of liberal and enlightened sympathies, might have done wonders for a new colony in any part of the world, and attained popularity for good and noble acts, but, instead, might exclaim in his old age with bitter ness: "I have lived long enough: my way of life |