Cousin Charles retracted. "We must distinguish between giving and advancing. I would recommend the advance—the advance only—of capital to those who can help themselves."
"My friend, if you can help yourself, you want no help."
"In a sense, most true; in fact, profoundly true," Cousin Charles replied. "I will make a note of those words. They shall become my motto: 'Those who can help themselves want no help.' So truly wise."
"And if so," John continued, "to help those who cannot help themselves is throwing money away."
"It is—it is." He pointed to the bankrupt. "Why help him? He cannot help himself. I have always felt that to help my cousin Alfred is a sin—if waste of money is sinful. He failed, sir; he became a bankrupt in Mare Street, only five doors from my place of business; with my surname over his door. I wonder I survived it."
"You'll survive your own failure next," said the bankrupt.
"Come back to your own case, mister. You agree that one should not help those who can help themselves. Let us lay hold on that. If you can help yourself, why do you want help? You've helped yourself, I understand, to a flourishing business. You are evidently, therefore, beyond the necessity of further help. You want me to advance you a large sum of money. Why? You have shown that you can help yourself. Very well; the best thing you can do is to go on helping yourself."
Cousin Charles changed colour. His face dropped, to use the familiar expression.
"Sweating four and twenty girls in black with white cuffs," murmured the teacher.