THE QUIET HOUR

Bay of Plenty Times, Volume LXIII, Issue 11711, 4 May 1935, Page 4

THE QUIET HOUR

OTHER PEOPLE’S PHEASANTS. A Note of Selfish Generosity. “Easy-going and lenient?” "Yes—-where his own shoe" ain’t pinched. He gave a man that shot two of his own pheasants all that he could give him. But he takes larger views of other people’s pheasants.” This scrap of conversation comes from one of Mr Eden Phillpotts’ stories. In less than forty words we are introduced to a particularly unlikeable specimen of humanity. Winton Verall, Esq., country gentleman and county magistrate, has an instinct for popularity-and indulges it to the full—at other people's expense. Whatever views we hold regarding poaching and the Game Laws at large, it is impossible to admire ,a man who is lenient towards those who injure somebody else and harsh to all who raid his own preserves. The type is familiar and is not confined to any given class or clime. Nathan’s parable went home because David loved to think of himself as the champion of the ill-used. The generosity of the Pharisees stands revealed for what it really was when Jesus speaks of them devouring widows’ houses. The sounding of the trumpet loses its glory when it mingles with the moans of the oppressed. Pilate was willing to deal justly with Jesus—if he could find another to pay the price.

Selfish generosity is the height of meanness. The adjective not only limits the noun,. but contradicts it. It is bad enough when a man employs his own possessions for purely selfish ends, but when he seeks popularity on stolen capital he, is knave and fool in one. For selfish generosity is also the height of folly. Popularity which picks other people’s pockets to. pay its way is. one of the worst forms of fraud, and its seed is in. itself. Sooner or later the hero of the hour becomes the villain of the piece. You may enhance your reputation for a little while and in certain directions by undervaluing other people’s pheasants, but in the end the value of your own will vanish altogether.

The most serious aspect of the matter is that selfish generosity is a habit which grows in the dark. The sinner himself may be unconscious of his sin until it reaches stranglehold. Like certain physical diseases it flourishes secretly, and when at last its presence is unmistakable the most skilful surgeon finds it difficult —perhaps Impossible—to eradicate the growth.

“My father was a good man,” said a friend the other day, “but he had limitations of which he was totally unaware. For instance, he gave enormous sums of money to all sorts of charities, and at the same time bemoaned the fact- that he could not afford to. pay his work-people a good wage.” This misguided soul wore the honours of his generosity without the slightest qualms of ‘ conscience, and he would have been heart-broken had it been suggested that he was following the footsteps of the Pharisees.

If true charity begins at home, true generosity il founded upon jus-' tice. Any other kind is a delusion and a snare; and it is not by any means merely a matter of cash and capitalists. “Other, people's pheasants” take many forms. Ho who deliberate uses the*shame of another to advance himself is guilty of a crime. Haman is the father of a multitude, and his fate prophesies the ultimate consequences of popularity at the expense of someone else’s character. He who seeks to climb a ladder by hurling down the man in front should face the facts before it is too late. Others are climbing after him and his example will inspire his own undoing, Jesus went to the heart of the matter when He pointed out the perils of popularity. “Woe unto you, when all men shall' speak well of you.” Even if you have achieved universal goodwill by perfectly legitimate means—and that is between your soul and the God f roin whom no secrets are hid—there is always the temptation to pay too high a price for ' maintaining the achievement. Popularity demands an exorbitant retaining fee. As a by-product rejoice in it with trembling, but refuse to give it room among those things which are earnestly desired, lest the springs of goodness and generosity grow gradually defiled. Charles Wesley uses another metaphor, but his message Is the same.

,"0 that to Thee my constant mind r Might with an even flame aspire, Pride in its earliest motions find And mark the risings of desire.” NORMAN E. DANDO.