Things I would not Choose
Charles Spurgeon · John Ploughman's Talk; or, Plain Advice for Plain People
IF it were all the same to other folks and
I might have things managed exactly
as I liked, I should not choose to have my
homely book pulled to pieces by fellows
who have not the honesty to read it, but
make up their minds beforehand, as Simple
Simon did when they put him on the jury.
However, as the rhinoceros said, I have not
a very thin skin : and if it amuses others
to find fault with me, they are as welcome
as they are free. The anvil is not afraid
of the hammer. They tell me those London
editors cut a page open, and then smell the
knife, and fall to praising the book up to
the skies, or abusing it without mercy,
according as the maggot bites them, or
according to what they have had for din-
ner. John Ploughman hopes the publisher
will turn down this leaf when he sends his
book to the papers, and he hopes the fol-
lowing word to the wise will be enough :
7" hope my pears won't fall into pigs' mouths.
I should not choose, if I might have my
own way, to see a dozen of these pages
brought home wrapped round the butter
the next time we send to the shop ; but it
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198 JOHN PLOUGHMAN'S TALK.
is not at all unlikely to happen, so I must
put up with it, as Tom Higgs did when he
had only turkey and plum pudding for
dinner.
I should not choose to plough with two
old horses spavined and broken-winded,
and altogether past work : pity the poor
horses and pity the poor ploughman, and
no pity at all for the farmer who keeps
such wretched cattle. When I see a man
whipping and slashing a poor brute of a
horse, I want to kick him, but at the same
time I feel glad that Violet and Dapper go
well enough with the sound of the whip
without needing to be paid like lawyers for
all they do. A man who knocks a horse
about ought to be put in harness himself,
and be driven about by a butcher. There's
a deal to be done with animals with kind-
ness, and nothing with cruelty. He who is
unmerciful to his beast is worse than a
beast himself.
I should not choose to be a bob-tailed
cow in summer-time, nor a servant with a
score of masters, nor a minister with half-a-
dozen ignorant tyrants for deacons, nor a
man who lives with his mother-in-law.
THINGS I WOULD NOT CHOOSE. 199
Nor should I like to try the truth of the
old saying —
" Two cats and one mouse,
Two women in one house,
Two dogs to one bone,
Will not agree long."
I had rather not be a dog with a tin kettle
tied to his tail, nor a worm on a fisherman's
hook, nor an eel being skinned alive, nor a
husband with a vixen for his wife. I
would much rather not fall into the jaws of
a crocodile or the hands of a lawyer; the
only suit that lasts too long is a lawsuit, and
that would not suit me at all. I would
not choose to be gossipped to death by wild
washerwomen, or pestered by a travelling
bookseller wanting me to take in sixpenny
numbers of a book that will run on for ever
like old Jimmy's debts.
I should be very hard up before I should
choose to sleep with pigs, or live in some
people's dirty houses. I would not choose
to own half the cottages poor laborers
are made to live in ; no farmer would be
so mean as to keep his horses in them;
and they are not good enough for dog ken-
200 JOHN PLOUGHMAN'S TALK.
nels. Think of father, and mother, and a
grown-up son, and two daughters sleeping
in the same room ! It is a burning shame,
and a crying sin on the part of those who
drive people to such shifts. It won't bear
to be thought of, and yet it is not at all
uncommon. Squires and landlords, how
would you like it ? If any man defends
such a system, half-an-hour's hanging would
be a good thing for him.
To be servant to a miser, to work for a
wasp, to be catspaw to a monkey, or toady
to a lord without brains, I would not
choose ; nor to go to the workhouse, nor
apply for parish relief; I'd sooner try
Grantham gruel, nine grits and a gallon of
water. I would not go round with the
hat for my own pocket, nor borrow money,
nor be a loafer, nor live like a toad under a
harrow; no, not for all that ever thawed
out of the cold hand of charity.
Bad off as I am, I would not choose to
change, unless I could hope to better my-
self. Who would go under the spout to
get out of the rain ? What's the use of
travelling to the other end of the world to
be worse off than you are ? Old England
THINGS I WOULD NOT CHOOSE. 201
for me, and Botany Bay for those who like
to transport themselves.
I would not choose to drive a pig, nor to
manage a jibbing nag, nor try to persuade
a man with a wooden head ; nor should I
like to be a schoolmaster with unruly boys,
nor a bull baited by dogs, nor a hen who
has hatched ducks. Worse off still is a
preacher to drowsy hearers ; he hunts with
dead dogs and drives wooden horses. As
well hold a service for sleeping swine as
sleeping men.
I would not buy a horse of a horsedealer
if I could help it, for the two or three honest
ones nobody ever heard of. A very honest
horsedealer will never cheat you if you
don't let him ; an ordinary one will draw
your eye-tooth while your mouth is shut.
Horses are almost as hard to judge of as
men's hearts ; the oldest hands are taken
in. What with bone-spavin, ringbone and
splints ; grease, crown-scab and rat -tail,
wind-galls and cankers, colic and jaundice,
sandcracks and founders, mallenders and
sallenders, there is hardly a sound horse in
the world. It's a bad thing to change
horses at all ; if you have a good one keep
202 JOHN PLOUGHMAN'S TALK.
it, for you will not get a better; if you
have a bad one keep it, for ten to one you
will buy a worse.
I would not choose to make myself a
door-mat nor a poodle, nor a fellow who
will eat dirt in order to curry favor with
great folks. Let who will tell lies to please
others, I'd rather have truth on my side, if
I go barefoot. Independence and a clear
conscience are better with cold cabbage than
slavery and sin with roast beef.
I would not like to keep a toll-gate at
the top of a long hill, nor to be a tax-
collector, nor the summoning officer, nor a
general nuisance, nor a poor postman with
half enough to live on and twice as much to
do as he ought ; better be a gipsy's horse,
and live on the common, with no hay and
no oats, but plenty of oak cudgel.
I would not choose to be plucked like a
goose, nor to be shareholder in a company ;
nor to be fried alive, nor to be at the mercy
of a Roman Catholic priest.
I would not stand as godfather to any-
body's child, to promise that the little sin-
ner shall keep God's holy commandments
and walk in the same all the days of his life ;
THINGS I WOULD NOT CHOOSE. 203
of the two, I would sooner promise to put
the moon into my coat sleeve and bring it
out again at the leg of my trousers, or vow
that the little dear shall have red hair and
a snub nose. Neither would I choose to
have lies told over my baby in the hope of
getting on the parson's blind side when
the blankets were given away at Christmas.
I should not choose to go where I
should be afraid to die, nor could I bear
to live without a good hope for hereafter.
I would not choose to sit on a barrel of
gunpowder and smoke a pipe, but that is
what those do who are thoughtless about
their souls while life is so uncertain.
Neither would I choose my lot on earth,
but leave it with God to choose for me.
I might pick and choose and take the
worst, but his choice is always best.