Old Grumble on Discontentment

Feilding Star, Volume VII, Issue 5, 23 June 1885, Page 2

Old Grumble on Discontentment

I Man is a discontented animal. It it this discontentment, and not reason, which is the distinguishing mark of humanity, that elevates mankind so much abovo the brutes. For instinct oft-times so encroaches upon reason's lines that it assumes tbe latter's guise : and the brute seems almost human, I while reason in many instances so derogates that man's intelligence appears te disadvantage with that pf tne lower animals; but discontentment is alone man's prerogative ; it is the mainspring of progression— directing his energies and urging him to industry. Arts, science, and discovery are • all its offspring, and call it by -what name we mil — ambition, aspiration, or search after knowledge — it is this desire to alter our condition, this innate dissatisfaction at our Btate, which has taught us to make tiie elements our captives, and keeps us still the lords of creation ; and yet how we are adjured by those whe profess to teach man his duty, to be content with that state of life in which it should please God to call us. If this doetrine were undeviatingly followed up by all, how s«jon a hirsute covering would take the place of raiment, the power of speech forsake us, tails would grow, and eventually we should have to climb trees to gather cocoanuts ior a living. Mankind cannot long remain stationary ; it must either go on improving or it degenerates; and such being the case, the spur of discontentment is a virtue, and not the fault -ire are taught in our catechism to believe it is. Of course we are not discontented alike, nor dissatisfied, with the same thing. Hamlet found fault with his own corporeal body, and said — " Oh that this too too solid flesh would melt." Very different were Grumble's feelings when in quest of fame he was led to exclaim — " Ambition should be made of sterner stuff," as the scorch* ing sun caused him to ooze at every pore, and he felt himseli dissolving and falling in globules to the ground: Physiologists* assert that man undergoes a complete transformation every seven years. Grumble is ready to swear that seven weeks would do it to to the very tips of the toe nails at the rate he was evaporating as he trudged along beneath the weight of his valise (better known in the colonies as the "swag"), and which he continually lightened, at last casting away tne case. Then gradually all superfluous clothing disappeared until he was almost nude, yet still the dissolution went on as briskly as ever. Yes, the thirsty sancfs of Arabia have been watered (nofc with his blood, but) with his sweat. .Grumble has been pretty well evenly distributed all over that great desert. Grumble thinks what a rich field he has afforded those who always follow to the scenes of battle in quest of trophies ; how they will come upon here a stocking, there another, a shirt, an odd shoe, a broken comb. But will any of these relichunters recall to their minds that they are standing upon the very spot where some drop of Grumble fell ? Grumble doubts it, and goes on wondering Who will be the happy finder of his nightcap. Unfortunately Grumble haa pondered aloud, and Mrs G. haa overheard him, and as he hears her tones, shrill as a penny whistle, he feels self convicted as she says — " Oh, that's the way you got rid of your things, is it? I thought you had to give them as a ransom for your liberty when yoa - were taken prisoner, but I shall know them again ; they are all marked with indelible marking ink ; and if Ido see anyone with them on n " WeU, if you do, my dear, it is only the nightcap I care about, and the finders might be generous enough to give it back, just keeping the tassel as a souvenir; but if they should object, and a tug of war ensues, I feel sure that though they may retain the cap you will make tiie tassel yours. To this remark of Grumble Airs G. retorted thusly— " Then I shall have the satisfaction of knowing that I have won something back, which is more than you, and all the British army at your back can say, for a more inglorious and bootless campaign has never been carried on than that ef the Soudan war." Grumble looks at hia wife, and then declares there is no such thing as contentment. Old Gbtoblk.