Curiously enough, his sudden rise was indirectly the means of bringing another needy young doctor to great fortune. Having abandoned his emigration scheme, our friend had made a present of his ticket to a former fellow-student of his, a shiftless sort of young man, who was loafing about town, with no regular work or prospects. This ne’er-do-weel had never thought of leaving the mother-country, and he accepted the ticket rather with the idea of making a pleasant voyage gratis than of settling at the antipodes. But on the way out, an epidemic of smallpox occurred among the passengers; the ship’s surgeon died; and the emigrant doctor, stepping into his place, displayed such skill and devotion that he won golden opinions from all on board. As often happens with men of good grit, the sudden call to noble work and great responsibilities completely altered his character, and he became thenceforth a steady fellow. On landing at Sydney, he was presented with a handsome cheque by the agents of the Steamship Company for his services, and soon afterwards was, on their recommendation, appointed physician to the quarantine depôt. This position put him in the way of forming a first-rate private practice and of winning municipal honours. He is now one of the most prosperous men in the colony, and a member of the colonial legislature.
Talking of sea-voyages reminds us of a barrister who has owed professional success to the mere lucky, or let us say providential, hazard which sent him out on a trip to China. Having lived three or four years in chambers without getting a brief, he was almost destitute, when a friend of his who was in the tea-trade offered him a free passage to Shanghai and back on condition of his transacting some piece of business there. On the passage out, the barrister had many conversations with the captain, who chanced to have lately given evidence at Westminster in a lawsuit which was of great importance to the shipping interest. But he had been disgusted with the ‘stupidity,’ as he called it, of the judge and counsel in the case, when talking of maritime and commercial customs; and he exclaimed: ‘Why don’t some of those lawyers who mean to speak in shipping cases, study our ways a little?’ These words struck the young barrister, who, after thinking the matter over for a few days, resolved to live at sea for a while.
On his return to England, he sought for a situation as purser or secretary on board one of the great ocean steamers, and in this capacity made several trips. Then he successively tried expeditions on board whalers, vessels engaged in the cod and herring fisheries, &c.; in fact, he led a sailor’s life for rather more than three years, picking up a full acquaintance with the manners, customs, grievances, and wants of those who had their business in the great waters. On going back to the bar, he almost at once got briefs in the Admiralty Court; and becoming known to solicitors as an expert on shipping questions, his professional fortune was made.
We might quote several cases similar to this one where special knowledge, sometimes acquired by accident, has put men in the way of getting highly honourable and well-paid positions on the newspaper press. A gentleman who is now a distinguished leader-writer on one of the London dailies, got his situation in consequence of having broken his leg while travelling in Germany. He was laid up for months in lodgings, and there became intimate with a Russian refugee, who taught him the Russian language and instructed him thoroughly in Muscovite politics. This occurred at the beginning of the Eastern imbroglio in 1876; and when the patient was getting better, he sent to a London paper a series of letters which exhibited such a familiarity with Russian affairs, that they attracted general notice. He was soon asked to go to St Petersburg as special correspondent; and from that date all things prospered with him. At the time when he broke his leg, he was about to accept a clerkship in a merchant’s office, where he would have had small chance of making any figure in the world.
But we fancy we can hear people exclaim that talent well directed is pretty sure to make a man’s fortune, so that it is never surprising to hear of clever men growing rich. True; but nevertheless there are chances for those who are not clever. We have heard of a man who had two thousand pounds a year left him because he was civil to an infirm old lady in church, finding the hymns for her, setting her hassock, &c. He did not know her name; but she took care to ascertain his, and when she died, he found that she had bequeathed to him the bulk of her property ‘as a reward for his patient kindness.’ A clergyman of our acquaintance obtained a living of good value from a baronet in Norfolk for no other reason than that he was the only curate within ten miles round who had not applied for it when it fell vacant. And another clergyman whom we know got a still better living for having refused preferment offered to him under circumstances derogatory to his dignity. He was a fair singer; and a vulgar plutocrat who had invited him to dinner promised to give him a living if he would sing a comic song at dessert. The quiet rebuke which the young clergyman administered made the plutocrat ashamed of himself, so that the next day he proffered the living with a letter of apology; but the living was refused, the clergyman stating that it would be impossible for him to forget the circumstances under which it was first tendered. This was the more honourable, as the clergyman was very badly off. Another patron, hearing of what he had done, appointed him to a benefice, as a testimony of his admiration.
We may conclude with a story of a man who was suddenly made rich because of his great stupidity. He was the only dull man in a bright-witted family, and going to dine with a wealthy relative who had a horror of fools, he made so many silly remarks, that the old man cried in exasperation: ‘I must do something for you, for you’ll never do anything for yourself. If I don’t make a rich man of you, you’ll become a laughing-stock to the world and a disgrace to your family.’
BY MEAD AND STREAM.
CHAPTER XXIV.—THE WORK.
Philip spoke lightly to Madge about the ‘chambers in town;’ but he was not quite satisfied with the arrangement, when she told him frankly that she did not like it. He confessed that the idea pleased him chiefly because it would give him a sense of independence, which he could never experience so long as he remained at Ringsford and the family continued to be in the same mood as at present. Very little had been said to him there, beyond a few expressions of curiosity on the part of the girls, and a cunning question from Coutts as to what guarantee Uncle Shield could give for the wealth he professed to possess.
‘The amount he promised to place at my disposal is in the bank,’ Philip answered; ‘and that, I fancy, would be sufficient, Coutts, to satisfy even you.’