Odd Thoughts of an Odd Fellow.

Maoriland Worker, Volume 2, Issue 35, 3 November 1911, Page 6

Odd Thoughts of an Odd Fellow.

, +.■ ■■— Fools and Knaves. '

By THE INNOGEftT. •

Honesty and industry have nothing to do with business in these days "■; and the man who pins his faith to virtuous principles is going to be left hopelessly behind on the highway of success by those who have adopted American methods- —to wit, "Get on, or get out." Get money—honestly, if you can—but get it. "Fire out the fools!" But now about' the knaves and. the other most Undesirables? A few weeks ago 2000 young people in New York (Christian Endeavourers, I believe)' set out to live ■a- fortnight according to the teachings of Christ. It Avas a dismal, heartbreaking failure. Typists,, shop, girls, factory hands, clerks;, young craftsmen, and what not, in the. conditions. of. the lying,, hypocritical, jerrying and adulterations of their pa.rtici.lar calling, were compelled to abandon the effort { in the first hour of it's trial. Let any persons test it for themselves, and see how far they can get in the day before they find Christian; principles and modern business are eiitirely opposed. "Fire out the fools!" . Poor fools. I've hobnobbed with a number of them and seen them fired out. There was' John Tamlyn, of Plymouth, so-n of an. agricultural laborer. He was serving his apprenticeship to engineering, but aspired to be a minister of the Gospel. He abandoned his calling and studied for the ministry, and in course of time presented himself to the Bishop of R tc be ordained. He was refused. s He became a lecturer for the SocialDemocratic Federation (London), but finding it not to his liking became attached to a London mission, and did great, good things. . But a new vicar did net approve of Tamlyn's methods, and "fired him out." He went to Burnley, Lancashire, and sold papers in the. street. He was ever on the verge of starvation, with a wife and family to support. He wrote several splendid novels and forcible short stories. The head of the publishing firm of "Heineriiaun" wrote Tamlyn praising his literary work, and undertaking to publish his stories if he would strike out the Socialism.' . "I'l starve first," said Tamlyn in effect, and starve he did and does. He is a; "Christian Socialist," and will tramp 20 or 30 miles to give an address or lecture to reduce his expenses, for which he gives his services. ; John Tamlyn is a. born fool, and as he is getting towards 60; there's little hope of his conversion! The last I heard of him he was a member of the Plymouth Board of Guardians, but owing to his blindness to see as other guardians saw, lie made things too lively, and' was consistently 1 ' backed by a Unitarian minister. Tamlyn- went to gaol on three separate occasion's for voicing the wrongs of the electors who had placed him at the head of the poll. Another adjective fool was George ; A_len, boot operative, long-distance walker, vegetarian, temperance orator,/ Socialist, and Sunday school teacher. It was the Sunday school business that brought him to book. "Mr. Allen," said the bad boy of his class, "can a man be a Christian and make pap°r boots?" Mr. Allen supported a wife ami famjlv by making paper boots for his employer. "'No, sonny," replied Mr. Allen. * On tho Monday morning Mr. Allen interviewed his employer and asked to be assisted with honest employment. Between Mr. Allen and his employer "there was hon-est respect and untlorstanding. "It couldn : t be done."

- • ''<.■' '' " " ' -I ■■ 111 I 1 111 I - IIMr. Allen shook hands with his boss and. turned up his job. "You're a fool," said his employer good-humoredly. Mr. Allen contrived to live, but will never grow rich; he's too big a fool. Another' member of the fool species was William A spin all. A big. awkward, gaunty Wire-haired, mahogany-counteiv anced, soft-hearted, old knifegrinder. Way back in his younger days he had turned up' at the 1 factory, windless, 'speechless and late. He tried, to explain himself, but the manager didn't give him time to get his breath. "You're jigger't! Shot!" said the manager. "You're- no use here, tha'at sacked!" "Sacked," . gasped Aspinalli his thoughts flying home to a bed-fast wife and a new-born baby. He thought of ■ suicide, and instead of making, tracks" home walked out of the town and rtiet a knifegrinder, with his factory on wheels. The knifegrinder looked him oyer arid learned his history. "So you want to die,'''said the knifegrinder. "I'm a bit tired of the ; game myself. I'll tell you what; we'll fight to the death, arid whoever survives inherits all the other's property/ and without further preliminaries the knifegrinder sailed into Aspinall. They thumped each other heartily, and eventually shook hands and trampled England's highways and byways,. north, south-east and west', over and over again. The knifegrinder was an advanced Radical at adate when Radicalism had a worse name than Socialism ever had. Whoever consorted with a Radical' was hopelessly depraved, but the old knifegrinder proved an excellent schoolmaster for Aspinall. It was a treat to see Owd Aspinall get into iris high seat over his. grin ding-stone and address a group of villagers. Aspinall was 66 when he left the mad and tried to settle down in a place call-' ed Brownside, just outside Burnley, Lancashire. He got Work-in the-cot-ton mill there, and. within- six months, by. his own efforts 'mainly, he collected funds to build arid equip a small* read-ing-room and lending library for. the village folk. Everybody laughed at "Owd Aspinal,l" and he himself heartiest of all. - As a thorough-going Christian J. have never met his equal in any ratak. of life, and he died in Rochdale workhouse a little over two years, ago. There's no time for ideals Or sentiment in business. Business is business, as witness the parable of the ten talents. The fellow who returned his talent up in the good condition be received it certainly d»id not do-anybody airy harm'; but can we say as much for the man who made his one talent into ten? What tearful orphans or weeping widows called down curses,, on his name for his usurious leanings? An incident in Christ's life is thus , dealt with by Victor Hugo in a poem called ''The First Anarchist." The scribe of the Temple speaks:— "On a Holy day, one day, I no longer know which, this man took a whip, and crying, declaiming, he drove out of the temple, and very brutally, licensed merchants'. The fact is authenticated —-very worthy people who kept shop on the temple grounds by the permission of those 1 who, I think, had the right of the clergy, who received a part of their profit." This seems to mc to be a firing out of the knaves, or, to use Christ's own term, "a den of thieves." The. spirit of emulation must lie dormant in His modern disciples; but there-— "business is business," even in the pulpit. My friend John- Tamlyn, in a penny pamphlet, asks: "Can a man be a Christian in our modern society?'" and gives it an emphatic No! Consequently to preach Christianity whore Society is modelled on business methods that render its establishment impossible, is a waste of time and effort. If really de-sired, we could remodel society,- give kindly interest to the' fools, get rid" of the %nav<?s, and leave the common Herd to do (ho rest. They\ can do it if the. crafty wisoi will let them, for humanity is good at the heart.