Piccadilly: A Fragment of Contemporary BiographyOliphant, Laurence
General
Piccadilly: A Fragment of Contemporary Biography
Oliphant, Laurence
Piccadilly (London, England) -- Fiction
fat woman fanning herself in the front row, will positively induce the
great majority of those now here, including a fair sprinkling of persons
with titles, to be present.
Now far be it from me to imply that there are not earnest, sincere, and
to some extent self-sacrificing, professors of the Christian religion,
who I know will persist in mistaking me, and imagine that by writing
this I bring the religion itself into contempt. I say again that those
who bring it into the most contempt are those who profess it most, and
that it is to counteract their prejudicial influence upon society that I
venture to incur their animosity.
I shall not report Joseph's speech at length, still less attempt to
follow Chundango in his unctuous remarks, in the course of which he
lavished flattery upon his audience to an extent even beyond what they
could bear; they swallowed it, however, with tea and ices, which were
handed round, but I got so worked up at last by a smooth-faced man who
was describing what he had gone through for the sake of the heathen,
while he was living luxuriously in one of the most charming little
mission establishments which I have ever visited, that I made the
following remarks:--
"Ladies and Gentlemen,--When I came here this evening nothing was
farther from my purpose than to address you. I cannot allow, however,
the remarks of the Bishop of the Caribbee Islands, of Mr Chundango, or
of the Rev. Mr Beevy, to pass unnoticed.
"The Bishop of the Caribbee Islands, in the course of the very graphic
account which he has given you of the progress of conversion in his
diocese, and of the number of interesting and instructive deathbeds
which he has witnessed, has entered into a calculation by which it would
appear that the average cost of the conversion of a human soul in those
islands is a little over £6. Ladies, you pretend to believe that, but
you don't. It would be impossible for you to sit there with strings of
lost human souls round your necks, and what would keep an infant school
in each ear, if you really believed that you could save a soul for £6.
You come here and listen to gentlemen who give you an account of the
sacrifices they make for the heathen, and of results which do not look
so well on the spot as on paper; and because you throw a pound into that
vase in the presence of the company, you think that you have done
something for them too. 'They may give up all,' you say, 'but we can't
afford to save more than two or three souls per annum.'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account