Although I have often alluded, in the course of these letters, to the
work of the Holy Spirit, and his blessed fruit in the heart and life,
yet so deeply do I feel impressed with the excellency and amiable
sweetness of the grace of _Charity_, that I feel constrained to commend
it to your notice in a separate letter. Charity is the queen of the
graces, excelling even faith and hope, and enduring when all those gifts
which add brilliancy to the character shall cease their attractions;
and, though you may not possess great personal charms, superior
accomplishments, or great powers of mind, yet if you do but "put on
charity," you will, like the blessed Saviour, "grow in favor both with
God and man."
The apostle calls charity the "bond of perfectness;" alluding to the
girdle of the Orientals, which was not only ornamental and expensive,
but was put on last, serving to adjust the other parts of the dress, and
keep the whole together. It is a bond which holds all the Christian
graces in harmonious union, and, by keeping them together, secures a
permanent completeness and consistency of character. Without the
girdle, the flowing robes of Oriental dress would present a sad
appearance; hardly serving the purposes of decency. So the apostle
concludes that the most brilliant gifts and heroic actions are all
nothing without charity.
Charity, however, is not to be understood in the popular sense of
_almsgiving_. It is the same word which is elsewhere rendered _love_. It
means a benevolent disposition of heart--love to God and good will to
man, diffused through the whole character and conduct. But the
description of charity given by the apostle relates chiefly to its
manifestations in our intercourse with our fellow-men. My principal
object in this letter will be to apply this description so as to
discover _negatively_ what conduct is inconsistent with charity, and
_positively_ the effect of charity on the human character.
I. Charity _suffereth long_. It will endure ill-treatment, and prefer
suffering to strife. It will not resent the first encroachments, but
patiently bear with injuries as long as they can be borne. If charity
reigns in your heart, you will consider how many and aggravated are your
offences against God, and yet that his long-suffering bears with your
perverseness, and he is daily loading you with benefits; and shall you
be impatient of the slightest offences from a fellow worm? Consider also
how liable you are to encroach upon the rights of others, and to try
their patience by your infirmities. Do not, therefore, be hasty in the
indulgence of hard thoughts of others, nor impatient of their faults and
infirmities. How much contention and strife might be avoided by a little
forbearance! and who is there so perfect as not sometimes to need it to
be extended toward himself? The ills of social life are greatly
mitigated by the exercise of mutual forbearance; and they find no place
under the sweet reign of charity.
II. But charity not only _suffereth long_, but _is kind_. "It is benign,
bountiful, courteous, and obliging." But why did the apostle couple
these two dispositions together? "_Charity suffereth long_, AND IS
KIND." Evidently, because long-suffering without kindness would be
unavailing. If you bear with the injuries or supposed offences of
another, and yet suffer your mind to be soured, and your kind offices
remitted, the wound will corrode and inflame, till it breaks out with
tenfold violence. But benignity of temper, and the constant practice of
friendly offices and benevolent actions, will disarm ill-nature, and
bring the offender to see the folly of his conduct. "A soft answer
turneth away wrath; and the kind treatment of an enemy will pour coals
of fire on his head." What can be more lovely than a kind and obliging
disposition, which delights in occasions and opportunities of
contributing to the comfort and happiness of others! This disposition
adorns with peculiar grace the female character. Solomon, describing a
virtuous woman, says, "In her tongue is the law of kindness." If you
cultivate this disposition at all times, and in all places, your
presence will add a charm to every circle; you will honor your Master;
and your ability to advance his cause will be greatly enhanced. In your
efforts to do good, with the law of kindness in your lips, you can
penetrate where, without it, you could gain no admittance; and in your
expostulations with the impenitent, you can reach the heart, by the
exhibition of a kind and tender spirit, where otherwise you would be
repulsed like the seven sons of Seeva, who presumptuously attempted, in
imitation of Paul, to cast out devils in the name of Jesus. Especially
is this disposition requisite in a Sabbath-school teacher. Without it,
he can accomplish very little. Children cannot be won without kindness.
If, then, you would be successful in this enterprise of love, cultivate
a tender regard for the "little lambs," and be kind to them whenever you
meet them. Never see a child in trouble without relieving him; or, if
you can do no more, show your sympathy for his sufferings by such kind
offices as are within your power.
III. Charity _envieth not_. It is not grieved but gratified to see
others more prosperous and wealthy, more intelligent and refined, or
more holy. The extension of holiness and happiness is an object of
rejoicing to the benevolent mind, without regard to himself.
There are some persons who are always complaining of the rich, and
fretting about the aristocratic spirit of those whose rank and station,
education or mental endowments, place them in any respect above
themselves. This is a sure indication of an envious disposition. There
may be, in these respects, some ground of complaint; but place these
persons in the situation of those of whom they complain, and where the
latter are proud, the former would probably be aristocratic; and where
these are aristocratic, those would be tyrannical.
An envious disposition argues, 1. _A want of self-respect._ If we
respect ourselves, we shall not desire the factitious importance arising
from wealth so much as to grieve that others have more of it than
ourselves; nor shall we be willing to concede so much merit to the
possession of wealth as to suspect those who have it of esteeming us the
less because we have it not. 2. It argues a _want of benevolence_. The
truly benevolent mind desires the increase of rational enjoyment, and
will therefore rejoice in the happiness of others, without respect to
his own. 3. It argues a _want of magnanimity_. The truly great will
rejoice in the intellectual and moral elevation of others, as adding so
much to the sum of human excellence. But the envious person cannot bear
to see any other one elevated above himself. This is the spirit that
brought Haman to the gallows, and Satan from the seat of an archangel to
the throne of devils. 4. It argues a _narrow, selfish spirit_--_a little
and mean mind_. The law of God requires us to love our neighbor as
ourselves, and reason sanctions the requisition. But, the envious person
will hate his neighbor, because he is not permitted to love him less
than himself.
If you regard your own happiness, I conjure you to suppress the first
motions of this vile and hateful temper; for, while indulged, it will
give you no peace. Its envenomed darts will rankle and corrode in your
bosom, and poison all your enjoyments. It is a disposition which can
never be satisfied so long as there is a superior being in the universe.
It is aimed ultimately at the throne of God; and the envious person can
never be happy while God reigns. The effects of this disposition upon
human character and happiness are strikingly illustrated in the story of
Haman, which I commend to your serious attention. Cultivate, then, the
habit of being pleased and gratified with the happiness and prosperity
of others; and constantly seek the grace of God to enable you to
exercise benevolent feelings toward all, but especially those who are
elevated in any respect above you.
IV. _Charity vaunteth not itself_, (or, as in the margin,) _is not
rash_--_is not puffed up_. "It does not act precipitately,
inconsiderately, rashly, thoughtlessly." Some people mistake a rash and
heedless spirit for genuine zeal; and this puffs them up with pride and
vain-glory, and sets them to railing at their betters in age,
experience, or wisdom, because they will not fall into their views and
measures. There is scarcely any trait of character more unlovely,
especially in a young person, than self-conceit. If the youth who is
puffed up with a sense of his own consequence could but see the mingled
emotions of pity and disgust which his conduct excites in the bosom of
age and wisdom, he would be filled with confusion and shame.
You will hear such persons prating much of independence of mind. They
have respect to the opinions of the ancients? Not they! They think for
themselves; and form their own opinions without respect to what others
have thought, and said, and written. They would scorn to consult a
commentary to assist them in determining a difficult passage of
Scripture, or the writings of a learned divine, to help them out of a
theological difficulty. That would be subjecting their minds to the
influence of prejudice, or betraying a want of confidence in their own
infallible powers!--which is the last idea they would think of
entertaining. The long-cherished opinions of great, and wise, and good
men, are disposed of with a sneer. They be influenced by great names?
Not they!
You will hear them delivering their opinions, pragmatically, and with
strong assurance, on points of great difficulty, which good men of the
greatest learning and ability have approached with diffidence; and
boldly advancing ideas which they suppose to have originated in the
depths of their own recondite minds, which they afterwards learn, with
chagrin, are but some old, cast-off, crude theories or speculations,
which had been a hundred times advanced, and as many times refuted,
before they were born. But the matter appears so plain to them that they
cannot imagine how any honest mind can come to any other conclusion.
Hence, they are ready to doubt the piety of all who differ with them, if
not to assume the office of judge, and charge them with insincerity or
hypocrisy. Whereas, in truth, their strong confidence in their opinions
arises from having examined the subject partially and superficially, and
overlooked the objections and difficulties which readily occur to a
well-balanced and discriminating mind.
I would not, however, be understood to recommend implicit submission to
the judgment and opinions even of the greatest or even the best of men.
This is Popery. The mind must be convinced before it yields assent to
any position. But it would be the height of self-conceited arrogance for
any person, but especially for a youth, to presume himself too wise to
gain instruction from the writings of men who have devoted their lives
to the investigation of truth; or summarily to set aside, as unworthy of
his attention, opinions which have been embraced by the greatest and
best of men for successive generations. Nor does it argue any uncommon
independence of mind; for, you will generally find such persons arranged
under the banner of some one of the various schools of theology,
morals, philosophy, or politics, and following on with ardor the devious
course of their leader receiving whatever falls from his lips as the
voice of an oracle, and running with enthusiasm into all his
extravagances. Like the vane upon the spire, that lifts up itself with
proud eminence to the clouds, they are ready to be carried about by
every wind of doctrine. Whereas true independence of mind consists in
weighing evidence and argument impartially, and forming a decision
independent of prejudice, party feeling, pride of opinion, or self-will;
and, when coupled with humility, it will always rejoice to receive
instruction from any source. The person who knows himself will be deeply
humbled under a sense of his own weakness and ignorance, and will
advance his opinions with modesty, while he treats the opinions of
others with becoming respect.
V. Again, Charity _doth not behave itself unseemly_. It does not
disregard the courtesies of life, nor break over the bounds of decency
and decorum; but pays a strict regard to propriety of conduct under all
circumstances. But, it may not be amiss to enumerate some of those
things which, by their unseemliness, render the conduct of any person
repulsive and disgusting.
1. Forwardness, or a disposition to be conspicuous, is unseemly,
especially in a young person. It is indeed the duty of every one to be
always ready to engage in every good work; and it is wrong to be
backward, and refuse to cooperate with others, in carrying on any useful
enterprise. But the heart is deceitful: and, while we satisfy our
consciences with the idea that we are going forward in the discharge of
duty, we may be but feeding our own vain-glorious spirits, by bringing
ourselves into notice. An humble Christian has a low estimate of his
ability to do good; and is generally disposed to prefer others, as
better qualified than himself, to occupy any conspicuous post. "In honor
preferring one another." He will, therefore, be modest and retiring;
though, when the course of duty is plain, he will by no means shrink
from it. "The righteous are hold as a lion." There are several
characteristics, however, which distinguish the forward, unseemly
spirit. He is jealous and testy. You will hear him complaining of the
aristocratic spirit of others; and if he is not noticed as much as he
thinks he deserves, he will take offence. He will rarely he found
cordially coöperating with others, in any good work, unless he is
foremost in it himself. If you wish to secure his aid, or forestall his
opposition, you must he careful to consult him before you undertake any
enterprise. Should you neglect to do so, however good your object, or
well chosen your measures, you may expect him to find fault, and throw
obstacles in the way, at every step of your progress. Such persons often
exhibit a fiery zeal and restless activity, which seem for a time to
eclipse all their contemporaries. But it is a zeal and activity for
_self_: for it is never roused except for the promotion of an object
with which self is in some manner identified.
2. To assume, in a dictatorial manner, to catechise others as to their
views on any subject, especially if they are older than yourself, is
unseemly. You will meet with some persons who seem to take it for
granted that they have a right to call you to account for your opinions,
and to determine authoritatively your claim to the character which you
profess. I do not question the propriety of kind and modest inquiries as
to the opinions and views of others; nor of endeavoring, by fair and
candid arguments, to convince them of what we suppose to be their
errors. But then we must never forget that they are our equals,
possessing the same right to judge of the truth with ourselves, and
accountable for their errors to the same tribunal. This will leave no
ground for the exercise of a dogmatical or a dictatorial spirit.
3. It is unseemly for young persons to be foremost in speaking, in
company, or to give advice with confidence in regard to anything which
is to influence the conduct of their superiors in age, wisdom, or
experience. Elihu, although a man of superior knowledge and abilities,
did not presume to speak to Job till his aged friends had ceased; for he
said, "Days should speak, and multitude of years should teach wisdom."
Young persons sometimes render themselves ridiculous by such unseemly
conduct. The prophet Isaiah gives this as one of the marks of a
degenerate age, that "the child shall behave himself proudly against the
ancient, and the base against the honorable."
4. Fierce contention about personal rights, is unseemly. It begets a
selfish, jealous spirit. You never hear this where love reigns; for love
is a yielding spirit. The spirit that can never brook the least
encroachment upon his rights, is an unseemly spirit, which will always
be embroiled in some difficulty or other.
5. All coarseness, grossness, or rudeness of character, is unseemly.
This negative description of one of the characteristics of charity is
sufficiently comprehensive, if exhibited in all its details, to fill a
volume. It conveys the idea of an exquisite propriety of deportment,
free from everything indelicate, obtrusive, repulsive, or unamiable.
VI. Charity _seeketh not her own_. It is not selfish. The temper here
described is inculcated in a beautiful manner in Paul's epistle to the
Philippians. He exhorts them, in lowliness of mind, each to esteem other
better than themselves; and not to look exclusively on their own things,
but also on the things of others; and then commends to them the example
of our Lord, who, though King of kings, humbled himself to the condition
of a servant, enduring hardship, contumely, and an ignominious death,
for our sakes. This does not mean that we are not to love ourselves at
all, nor be entirely regardless of our own interests; for the rule which
requires us to love our neighbor _as ourselves_, recognizes the right of
self-love; and the command, "Thou shalt not steal," establishes the
right of private property. But it forbids us to make our own interest
and happiness our chief concern, to the disregard of the rights of
others and the general good; and requires us to make sacrifices of
feeling and interest for the benefit of others, and even sometimes to
prefer their happiness and interest to our own. This is the spirit of
genuine benevolence; and the exercise of it will impart far more
elevated enjoyment than can be derived from private advantage.
Were this disposition in exercise, it would cut off all ground of envy
and jealousy; it would remove the cause of most of the contentions that
arise in society; and mitigate, in a wonderful degree, all the ills of
life. Indeed, this principle lies at the foundation of all social
enjoyment. The reciprocity of mutual affection depends upon the exercise
of a self-sacrificing disposition; and the society where this does not
exist is intolerable. Nor is it feeling or interest alone that must be
given up. There is yet a more difficult sacrifice to be made, before we
can be, in any considerable degree, comfortable companions. _It is the
sacrifice of the will._ This is the last thing the selfish heart of man
is disposed to yield. He has taken his stand, and the pride of his heart
is committed to maintain it. He deceives himself, and compels conscience
to come to his aid; while, in reality, it is a matter with which
conscience has nothing to do, for the point might have been yielded
without doing violence to that ever-wakeful monitor, whose office is
thus perverted, and made to subserve the purposes of stiff-necked
obstinacy. A disposition to yield to the judgment and will of others, so
far as can be done conscientiously, is a prominent characteristic of
that charity which seeketh not her own; while an obstinate adherence to
our own plans and purposes, where no higher principle than expediency is
concerned, is one of the most repulsive and uncomfortable forms of
selfishness.
A selfish person never willingly makes the smallest sacrifice of feeling
or interest to promote the welfare or happiness of others. He wraps
himself up in his own interests and pursuits, a cheerless and forbidding
object. He would gladly know no law but his own will. He has a little
world of his own, in which he lives, and moves, and has his being. He
makes every one, with whom he comes in contact, contribute something to
his own selfish purposes. His overweening desire to promote his own
interests, disposes him constantly to encroach upon the rights of
others; or, if not to encroach upon their rights, to take advantage of
their good nature, to drag them into his service. You might as well walk
for pleasure in a grove of thorn-bushes, or seek repose on a bed of
nettles, as to look for comfort in the society of selfish persons.
VII. Charity _is not easily provoked_. "It corrects a sharpness of
temper, and sweetens and softens the mind." It does not take fire at the
least opposition or unkindness, nor "make a man an offender for a word."
One of the servants of Nabal described his character in this significant
manner: "He is such a son of Belial that a man cannot speak to him."
There are many such sons and daughters of Belial. They are so sulky and
sour, so fretful and peevish, that you can hardly speak to them, but
they will snap and snarl like a growling watch-dog; and if they were
equally dangerous, it might not be less necessary to chain them. All
this is the opposite of charity. The quality here negatively described
may be summarily comprehended in the term _good nature_; but in a more
elevated sense than this term is usually employed, it being the fruit,
not of natural amiableness, but of gracious affection. This temper is
essential to any considerable degree of usefulness. If you are destitute
of it, your Christian character will be so marred as in a great measure
to counteract the influence of your positive efforts. A bad temper, even
in connection with many excellent qualities, may render a person an
uncomfortable companion and an intolerable yoke-fellow, and bring great
reproach upon the cause of Christ. Nor need any one excuse himself on
the ground of natural disposition; for the Lord has said, "My grace is
sufficient for thee." The gospel of Jesus Christ is a remedy for all our
natural corruptions; and we are required to lay aside _every weight_,
even the sin that most easily besets us.
VIII. Charity _thinketh no evil_--is not suspicious--does not lay up
slight expressions or equivocal conduct, and reason out evil from them,
and suffer it to corrode and sour the mind against an individual; but
puts the best construction upon the words and conduct of others that
they will bear, not yielding to an ill opinion of another, but upon the
most indisputable evidence. There is, perhaps, no more fruitful source
of disquiet and unhappiness, both to ourselves and others, than a
suspicious disposition. "Jealousy," says Solomon, "is cruel as the
grave: the coals thereof are the coals of fire, which hath a most
vehement flame." Nor is this language too intense. A jealous person
always sees a "snake in the grass." He is afraid to trust his most
intimate friend. He puts the worst construction upon the language and
conduct of others that they will bear: hence he conceives himself
grossly insulted, when no ill was designed; and a gentle rebuke, or a
good-humored repartee, constitutes an unpardonable offence. He always
looks on the dark side of human character, so that a single foible or
one glaring fault will eclipse a thousand real excellences. He is always
complaining of the degeneracy of the times, and especially of the
corruption of the church; for he can see nobody around him who is
perfect, and therefore he comes to the conclusion that there is very
little piety in the world; forgetting that, were he to find a church of
immaculate purity, his own connection with it would introduce
corruption. Should such a person conceive it to be his duty to tell you
all your faults, woe betide you! for desirable as self-knowledge is, it
is no kindness to have our faults aggravated a hundred-fold, and
concentrated before our minds like the converging rays of the sun, in
one focal blaze, nor poured upon our heads like the sweeping torrent,
nor eked out like the incessant patterings of a drizzling rain. Thus did
not Paul. When he felt it his duty to reprove, he was careful to commend
what was praiseworthy, and to throw in some expressions of kindness
along with his censures. And here, though it be a digression, let me
conjure you never to undertake the unthankful office of censor. You will
find some inexperienced persons who will desire you, as an office of
friendship, to tell them all their faults. Be sure, if you undertake
this with a friend, your friendship will be short. It will lead you to
look continually at the dark side of your friend's character, and,
before you are aware, you will find yourself losing your esteem for it.
Very soon, you will beget the suspicion that you have conceived some
dislike. If the cause is continued, this suspicion will corrode and
increase; and the result will be, a mutual alienation of affection.
However sincerely such an experiment may be entered upon, it can hardly
fail, in the nature of things, to produce this result.
It may, however, be said, that we are bound, by our covenant
obligations, to _watch over our brethren._ But there can scarcely be a
greater misapprehension than to understand this duty in the sense of an
incessant lookout to discern and discover the little faults and foibles,
or even the more marked and glaring defects of character, in our
brethren. The injunction is, "If thy brother trespass _against thee_, go
and tell him his fault," &c. But I know of no passage of Scripture which
requires us to procure a magnifying-glass, and go about making a
business of detecting and exposing the faults of our brethren. On the
contrary, there are many cautions against a meddlesome disposition, and
against being busy bodies in other men's matters. We are required, with
great frequency and solemnity, to watch ourselves; but where is the
injunction, "Watch thy brethren?" Even the Saviour himself did not thus
attempt to correct the faults of his disciples. He rebuked them, indeed,
and sometimes sharply; but he was not continually reminding them of
their faults. He was not incessantly brow-beating Peter for his
rashness, nor Thomas for his incredulity, nor the sons of Zebedee for
their ambition. But he "taught them _as they were able to bear it_;"
and that rather by holding up before their minds the truth, than by
direct personal lectures.
Our covenant obligations unquestionably make it our duty to watch and
see that our brethren do not pursue a course of life inconsistent with
their Christian profession, or which tends to backsliding and apostasy;
and if they are true disciples, they will be thankful for a word of
caution, when they are in danger of falling into sin. And when they do
thus fall, we are required to rebuke them, and not to suffer sin upon
them. But this is a very different affair from that of setting up a
system of espionage over their conduct, and dwelling continually upon
their faults and deficiencies. This latter course cannot long be
pursued, without an unhappy influence upon our own temper. The human
mind is so constituted as to be affected by the objects it contemplates,
and often assimilated to them. Show me a person who is always
contemplating the faults of others, and I will show you a dark and
gloomy, sour and morose spirit, whose eyes are hermetically closed to
everything that is desirable and excellent, or amiable and lovely, in
the character of man--a grumbling, growling misanthrope, who is never
pleased with anybody, nor satisfied with anything--an Ishmaelite, whose
hand is against every man, and every man's hand against him. If there is
nothing in the human character, regenerated by the grace of God, on
which we can look with complacency and delight, then it is impossible
for us to obey the sacred injunction, "Love the brethren."
IX. Charity _rejoiceth not in iniquity_, but _rejoiceth in the truth_.
One mark by which the people of God are known is, that they "sigh and
cry over the abominations that are done in the land," and weep rivers of
water because men keep not the law of God; while the wicked "rejoice to
do evil, and delight in the frowardness of the wicked." But we may
deceive ourselves, and be indulging a morbid appetite for fault-finding
and slander, while we suppose ourselves to be grieving over the sins of
others. Grief is a tender emotion. It melts the heart, and sheds around
it a hallowed influence. Hence, if we find ourselves indulging a sharp,
censorious spirit, eagerly catching up the faults of others, and
dwelling on them, and magnifying them, and judging harshly of them, we
may be sure we have another mark, which belongs not to the fold of the
Good Shepherd. One of the prominent characteristics of an impenitent
heart is a disposition to feed upon the faults of professors of
religion. Those who indulge this disposition will not admit that they
take delight in the failings of Christians. They will condemn them with
great severity, and lament over the dishonor they bring upon religion.
Yet they catch at the deficiencies of Christians as eagerly as ever a
hungry spaniel caught after his meat. This is the whole of their
spiritual meat and drink. It is the foundation of their hopes. They rest
their claim for admittance into the celestial paradise on being quite as
consistent in their conduct as those who profess to be God's people;
hence, every deficiency they discover gives them a new plea to urge at
the portals of heaven. Thus they secretly, though perhaps unwittingly,
"rejoice in iniquity." But it is to be feared, if we may judge from the
exhibition of the same spirit, that many who make high pretensions to
superior sanctity rest their hopes, to a great extent, on a similar
foundation. With the Pharisaical Jews, they think if they judge them
that do evil, even though they do the same, they shall escape the
judgment of God. They are as eager to catch up and proclaim upon the
house-top the deficiencies of their brethren, as the self-righteous
moralist, who prides himself on making no profession, and yet being as
consistent as those that do. If such persons do not rejoice in iniquity,
it is nevertheless "sweet in their mouth," and they "drink it in like
water." Their plea is, that they do not speak of it with pleasure, but
with grief bear their testimony against it. But grief is a very
different passion from that which swells in their bosoms. Grief is
solitary and silent. "He sitteth alone and keepeth silence." Who ever
heard of a man's proclaiming his grief to every passing stranger? Yet,
you may not be five minutes in the company of one of these persons, till
he begins to proclaim his grief at the delinquencies of his Christian
brethren. And the harsh and bitter spirit, which palms itself on the
conscience as a testimony against sin, is but an exhibition of
impenitent pride. It bears not the most distant semblance of Christian
humility and fidelity. "Brethren," says the apostle, "if a man be
overtaken in a fault, restore such an one in the spirit of meekness;
_considering thyself, lest thou also be tempted._" But, from the
fault-finding and censorious spirit of some people, one would suppose it
never came into their minds to consider whether it might not be possible
for them to fall into the same condemnation; although an examination of
the lamentable falls that have taken place might show a fearful list of
delinquents from this class of persons. David, while in his fallen
state, pronounced sentence of death upon the man in Nathan's parable,
whose crime was but a faint shadow of his own. The Scribes and Pharisees
were indignant at the wretched woman who had been taken in sin; yet they
afterwards, by their own conduct, confessed themselves guilty of the
same crime. Judas was one of your censorious fault-finders. He was the
one that found fault with the tender-hearted Mary, for her affectionate
tribute of respect to the Lord of Life, before his passion. He thought
it a great waste to pour such costly ointment on the feet of Jesus; and
that it would have been much better to have sold it and given the money
to the poor. He was very compassionate to the poor, and a great enemy of
extravagance; but a little while afterwards, he sold his Lord for thirty
pieces of silver. So, in every age, if you examine into the character of
apostates, you will find that they have been noted for their severity
against the sins of others; and particularly in making conscience of
things indifferent, and pronouncing harsh judgment against those who
refuse to conform to their views. Especially will such persons be
grieved with their brethren on account of their dress, or style of
living, or their manner of wearing the hair; or some such matter that
does not reach the heart. I was once acquainted with a woman, who
(except in her own family and among her neighbors) had the reputation of
being _very devotedly pious_, who went to her pastor, (an aged and
venerable man,) greatly grieved because he was in the habit of combing
his hair upwards, so as to cover his baldness. She was afraid it was
pride. She was a great talker, and often had difficulties with her
brethren and sisters in the church; for she thought it her duty to
exercise a watchful care over them. Whether she was self-deceived, or
hypocritical, I cannot say; but she used to shed tears freely in her
religious conversations. She, however, as I have since learned, after
maintaining her standing in the church for many years, apostatized and
became openly abandoned. You need not look over half a dozen parishes,
anywhere, to find cases of a kindred character.
The humble Christian, who looks back to the "hole of the pit whence he
was digged," and remembers that he now stands by virtue of the same
grace that took his feet out of the "horrible pit and miry clay," will
be the last person to vaunt over the fallen condition of his
fellow-creatures. He will look upon them with an eye of tender
compassion; and his rebukes will be administered in a meek, subdued, and
humble spirit, remembering the injunction of Paul, "Let him that
thinketh he standeth take heed lest he fall." But the spirit of which I
have been speaking is not only _carnal_, but _devilish_. The devil is
the _accuser of the brethren._
But charity not only rejoiceth not in iniquity, but, _positively_,
rejoiceth in the truth--is glad of the success of the gospel, and
rejoices in the manifestation of the grace of God, by the exhibition of
the fruits of his Spirit in the character and conduct of his people.
Hence, it will lead us to look at the bright side of men's characters;
and if they give any evidence of piety, to rejoice in it, and glorify
God for the manifestation of his grace in them, while we overlook, or
behold with tenderness and compassion, their imperfections. And this
accords with the feelings of the humble Christian. He thinks so little
of himself, and feels such a sense of his own imperfections, that he
quickly discerns the least evidence of Christian character in others;
and he sees so much to be overlooked in himself, that he is rather
inclined to the extreme of credulity, in judging the characters of
others. He is ready, with Paul, to esteem himself "less than the least
of all saints;" and where he sees any evidence of piety in others, he
can overlook many deficiencies.
I am persuaded, that in few things we are more deficient than in the
exercise of joy and gratitude for the grace of God manifested in his
children. There are few of the epistles of Paul which do not commence
with an expression of joy and thanksgiving for the piety of those to
whom he was writing. I have been surprised, on looking over them, to
find these expressions so full and so frequent. They are too numerous to
be quoted in this place; but I entreat you to examine them for yourself.
Even in regard to the Corinthians, among whom so many evils existed, he
says, "I thank my God always on your behalf, for the grace of God which
is given you by Jesus Christ." But who among us is ever heard thanking
God for the piety of his brethren? On the contrary, how many of the
prayers that are offered up in our social meetings resemble the errands
of a churlish man, who never visits his neighbor's house without
entering some complaint against his children! Yet, we are under greater
obligations for the least exhibition of gracious fruits in the lives of
his people, than for the daily bounties of his providence, inasmuch as
the gift of the Holy Ghost is greater than food and raiment.
X. Thus far, with the exception of the first two heads, and a part of
the last, we have had the _negative_ character of Charity. We now come
to its _positive_ manifestations, which have, however, to a
considerable extent, been anticipated in the previous consideration of
the subject.
1. Charity _beareth all things_; or, as it may be rendered, _covereth
all things_. This seems to be more agreeable to the context; for
otherwise it would mean the same as _endureth all things_, in the latter
clause of the verse, and thus make a tautology; while it leaves a
deficiency in the description, indicated by the passage in Peter,
"Charity shall cover the multitude of sins." "Charity will draw a vail
over the faults of others, so far as is consistent with duty." What
trait of character can be more amiable and lovely? It is the genuine
spirit of the gospel, which requires us to "do unto others as we would
they should do to us." And who would like to have his faults made the
subject of common conversation among his acquaintances? If no one would
like to be thus "served up," let him be cautious how he treats others.
And, if it is contrary to charity thus to speak of the faults of
individuals, it is not the less so to speak of the faults of masses of
men, as of the clergy or of the church. The injustice is the more
aggravated, because it is condemning by wholesale. A member of the
church of Christ, who speaks much of its corruptions, is guilty of the
anomalous conduct of _speaking evil of himself_; for the members of
Christ's body are _all one in him_. It may sometimes be our duty to
speak of the faults of others; but, where charity reigns in the heart,
this will be done only in cases of unavoidable necessity, and then with
great pain and sacrifice of feeling. The benevolent heart feels for the
woes of others, and even compassionates their weakness and wickedness.
It will desire, therefore, as much as possible, to hide them from the
public gaze, unless the good of others should require their exposure;
and even then, will not do it with wanton feelings. But these remarks
apply with much greater force to the practice of Christians speaking of
one another's faults. Where is the heart that would not revolt at the
idea of brothers and sisters scanning each other's faults, in the ears
of strangers? Yet the relation of God's children is far more endearing
than the ties of consanguinity.
2. Charity _believeth all things, hopeth all things_. This is the
opposite of jealousy and suspicion. It is a readiness to believe
everything in favor of others; and even when appearances are very strong
against them, still to hope for the best. This disposition will lead us
to look at the characters of others in their most favorable light; to
give full weight to every good quality, and full credit for every
praiseworthy action; while every palliating circumstance is viewed in
connection with deficiencies and misconduct. Charity will never
attribute an action to improper motives or a bad design, when it can
account for it in any other way; and, especially, it will not be quick
to charge hypocrisy and insincerity upon those who seem to be acting
correctly. It will give credit to the professions of others, unless
obviously contradicted by their conduct. It does not, indeed, forbid
prudence and caution--"The simple believeth every word; but the prudent
man looketh well to his going"--but it is accustomed to repose
confidence in others, and it will not be continually watching for evil.
A charitable spirit is opposed to the prevailing disposition for
discussing private character. It will not willingly listen to criticisms
upon the characters of others, nor the detail of their errors and
imperfections; and it will turn away with disgust and horror from petty
scandal and evil-speaking, as offensive to benevolent feeling. It is a
kind of _moral sense_, which recoils from detraction and backbiting.
3. Charity _endureth all things_. This is nearly synonymous with
long-suffering; and yet it is a more extensive expression. It will
endure with patience, and suffer without anger or bitterness of feeling,
everything in social life which is calculated to try our tempers, and
exhaust our patience. It is not testy, and impatient at the least
opposition, or the slightest provocation; but endures the infirmities,
the unreasonableness, the ill-humor, and the hard language of others,
with a meek and quiet spirit.
Finally, charity is the practical application of the golden rule of our
Saviour, and the second table of the law, to all our intercourse with
our fellow-men, diffusing around us a spirit of kindness and benevolent
feeling. It comprehends all that is candid and generous, bland and
gentle, amiable and kind, in the human character, regenerated by the
grace of God. It is opposed to all that is uncandid and disingenuous,
coarse and harsh, unkind, severe, and bitter, in the disposition of
fallen humanity. It is the bond, which holds society together, the charm
which sweetens social intercourse, and the UNIVERSAL PANACEA, which, if
it cannot cure, will at least mitigate, all the diseases of the social
state. That you may possess it in its highest earthly perfection, is the
sincere prayer of
Your affectionate Brother.