Australian Tales - Setis

“Don't lie down there: you'll be in the way!” I would address the words
of Jack Junk, to such of my readers who may be disposed to lie down and
despair, in consequence of present trials and difficulties, which to their
troubled minds appear insurmountable. So far from administering a kick
with my caution, I would offer a few words of counsel and friendly
encouragement to such downcast ones, and endeavour to lift them up;
lest some of their neighbours stumble over them.
In general, those persons are disappointed who look for much
sympathy from the public for their pecuniary reverses, or at all events
who expect that feeling to be very lasting; and it would be unwise to
calculate upon much revenue in return for a tale of ruin. Your society is
more likely to be shunned than courted, if you are too ready to pour out
your troubles. A fire, a shipwreck, an explosion, an inundation, or any
other great catastrophe, which had suddenly reduced you to poverty,
might create a strong impression, and procure you general condolence for
a brief period after its occurrence; but the emotion would be very
transient, and it is marvellous how unsympathisingly the majority of
folks would hear you recite the details of the mishap, twelve months
afterwards; and what difficulty you would experience in raising even the
price of a dinner, by the most dismal story you could tell. Do not then
voluntarily lie down and fret, in the belief that you will gain much by
doing so, for you are more likely to be kicked than pitied. Rather try to
stand up and face your trials and difficulties, whatever they may be. Put a
manly, cheerful courage on, then half your troubles will fly away, and
you will probably find help to battle with the other half. It is an old
saying, that “a merry-faced fellow could raise a guinea at any time, but a
dolorous individual, on the contrary, could not raise ninepence if his life
depended on it.”
“Do you see that gentleman on the opposite side of the street?” I
enquired of a friend with whom I was walking one day.
“Yes, I see him. He looks very miserable: who is he, and what is the
matter with him?”
“I knew him a few years ago, as a flourishing merchant,” I replied; “but
he failed, from some cause of which I am ignorant, and he has never held
up his head since. He seems to have lost heart and energy altogether, and
looks grief-worn and poverty stricken.”
“Poor wretch!” exclaimed my friend, with a momentary glance of
sympathy towards the desponding merchant; then he added, “what a
simpleton he must be not to stand up stiff under his burden, if he cannot
shake it from his shoulders entirely.”
“There are the old sailor's sentiments again, and the kick too,” I
thought, as I continued my walk beside my friend, who, by the way, was
not an unfeeling man. Like scores of other men immersed in business, he
had neither time nor inclination to moralize on such apparent trifles; and