shouldering the natives out of his way, and loudly developing a
scheme he had, for making a raid on all the unemployed persons in
the United Kingdom, laying them every one by the heels in jail, and
forcing them, on pain of prompt extermination, to become
philanthropists.

Mrs. Crisparkle had need of her own share of philanthropy when she
beheld this very large and very loud excrescence on the little
party. Always something in the nature of a Boil upon the face of
society, Mr. Honeythunder expanded into an inflammatory Wen in
Minor Canon Corner. Though it was not literally true, as was
facetiously charged against him by public unbelievers, that he
called aloud to his fellow-creatures: 'Curse your souls and
bodies, come here and be blessed!' still his philanthropy was of
that gunpowderous sort that the difference between it and animosity
was hard to determine. You were to abolish military force, but you
were first to bring all commanding officers who had done their
duty, to trial by court-martial for that offence, and shoot them.
You were to abolish war, but were to make converts by making war
upon them, and charging them with loving war as the apple of their
eye. You were to have no capital punishment, but were first to
sweep off the face of the earth all legislators, jurists, and
judges, who were of the contrary opinion. You were to have
universal concord, and were to get it by eliminating all the people
who wouldn't, or conscientiously couldn't, be concordant. You were
to love your brother as yourself, but after an indefinite interval
of maligning him (very much as if you hated him), and calling him
all manner of names. Above all things, you were to do nothing in
private, or on your own account. You were to go to the offices of
the Haven of Philanthropy, and put your name down as a Member and a