privileges favorable to character. We shall not, then, voluntarily hurt
them by their ready disposition to copy their masters' failings. We shall
not then, by our white lies, give them the material which so readily turns
black by a little wear. We shall not deal in inuendos and irreverence,
that so easily become ribaldry and blasphemy in passing to less dainty
lips, nor yield to an excess at our tables, which teaches drunkenness to
coarser palates. We shall be unwilling to disturb for our dependents the
quiet which we ask for ourselves on the Lord's Day; and therefore shall
dispense with needless feasting or riding on that day, shunning the too
frequent error of increasing our hospitality in entertaining guests by the
sacrifice of the religious privileges of our servants, and of estimating
the social respectability of a church by the number of rational souls who
wait at its door in companionship with horses, while lords and ladies sit
or kneel on downy cushions at the altar to speak of communion with Him who
is no respecter of persons, and of the utter damnation of all the
unbelieving and ungodly. The good master, says Thomas Fuller, remembers
the old law of the Saxon king Ina: "If a villain work on Sunday by his
lord's command, he shall be free."
Nor should this regard for the character of servants end in mere
negations. They should have the positive influence of a Christian temper
in the family, and, when arbitrary creeds do not prevent it, they should
have liberty to be present at such family devotions as may be held for the
edifying of the household. So do we interpret justice in this relation in
its bearing on fortune and character. Some might think our view very
defective, from leaving out the element of entire social equality. If by
this be meant a recognition of the moral worth of faithful servants, we
make the recognition, and deem them the equals of all whom they equal in
character. But, if social familiarity be the test of equality, it is
answer enough that this is a matter of congeniality or elective affinity,
and nothing could be more arbitrary and unjust than to force persons into
a familiarity for which their education, tastes, and labors disqualify
them. Such a course would comport as little with justice as with mercy.
Mercy,--rest upon that word. We have said that both parties should be
trusty, and have urged justice upon the master especially. We now add,
that he should merciful.
We are all frail and erring, and need great forbearance for ourselves. Why
be unwilling to bestow it on the less favored? We all make some mistakes,
and how can we expect the less intelligent to be freer from error? Why be
irritated if every thing is not done precisely to our liking? They that
forbear threatening may win better service by that fact, for nothing so
provokes carelessness and disheartens effort, as the impatience that
regards a mistake as a crime, and brands an oversight as an insult.
We ourselves are variable in health, spirits and energy, and must make
allowance for the like variation in persons probably less disciplined than
ourselves. We may show due consideration without fickleness, and kindness
without familiarity. Cruel, indeed, is the wrong that confounds the
fidelity that is struggling to do well in spite of temporary illness, with
the idleness that wantonly neglects any well-known duty. Some misgivings
very kind people may reasonably have in regard to servants in feeble
health; and the Christian charity of a community will continue very
deficient until they, who render faithful service, are cared for better in
private houses or proper institutions in seasons of sickness.
Upon this subject we are apt to speak too arrogantly when we contrast our
domestic manners with those of persons burdened with bond servants, and to
call him as of necessity a tyrant who may be more than ourselves a
protector. In our just condemnation of slavery, remember that much
kindness lightens its bonds; and, remembering too, the millions of dollars
in legal property which masters have relinquished, when we preach, as we
may justly do, stern self-sacrifice to others, learn well that the duty of
caring for inferiors has applications quite as solemn under a Northern as
under a Southern sky.
It is common, I know, to talk of the ingratitude of inferiors and the
thanklessness of mercy. Alas! there is enough in our own hearts to justify
misgivings, and when we think how ingrate we are, we may look more with
pity than bitterness upon the indifference with which so many receive
favors, sometimes making their very constancy the plea of insolent demand.
Nevertheless, mercy will not be without reward, and, in due season, will
penetrate with its own spirit minds sadly blunted by harsh usage. Hand in
hand with judgment and rectitude, it will win here below the promised
blessing, and obtain its own beatitude for its giver.
Mercy,--what is it but humanity--love in its downward look, the look with
which Jesus went about among men? Looking thus downward, the soul sees a
verdure, and rejoices in a genial light and warmth not found in any proud
star-gazing: for the best blessing of heaven is reflected upon its lowly
gaze. Mercy,--he who comes short of it, comes short of his neighbor and
his God. It is the ground of all devotion. The home where it dwells not,
dwells without God in the world. More than can be expressed in any act, we
need it; even an abiding sentiment, broad as our race, deep as our need.
Looking upon a criminal, a blunt preacher said; "There goes John Newton,
but by the grace of God." Says an old divine: "Well may masters consider
how easy a transposition it had been for God to have made him to mount
into the saddle that holds the stirrup, and him to sit down at the table
who stands by with the trencher." Looking upon our inferior any where, let
us have something at heart which says: "Friend, brother, true I am better
off in this world's goods than you, but whether fortune or desert has made
the difference, that fact does not decide, and, whether deserved or
undeserved, my superiority teaches humility, not pride--responsibility,
not arrogance."
Review now the course of meditation upon the more direct home duties. We
treated of ties of nature in speaking of parents, children, brothers and
sisters; of ties elective in speaking of husbands and wives, friends; and
now we add the last class of elective ties, by passing from relations of
equality to that of master and servant. We have cherished through these
pages a degree of home feeling together, and in some points our various
experiences must have accorded. Such subjects cannot be treated with any
sort of fidelity, without touching some deep convictions and sacred
remembrances. They have solemnity and also cheerfulness, telling of vast
privileges to impress momentous duties.
Thus onward do we go,--not alone, but with companions, superiors, equals,
inferiors--all giving and taking influence; if we will have it so, God
with us through all and in all. If superiors inflame ambition, let them
teach respect; if equals make our enjoyment, let them move our good will;
if inferiors tempt our pride, let them kindle our benevolence. We cannot
cherish this spirit in vain. A kindly heart will win from the lowly many a
blessing, and develope many a power. Among the thoughts that give peace to
a man's dying pillow, none will be sweeter than the remembrance or image
of those whose lowly condition he has bettered, and asked no reward of the
world. Since Christ has lived, rich indeed has been the heavenly treasure
laid up by such compassion towards those who bear the world's heavy
burdens and have few of its smiles. Forgetting them, we forget our
Saviour, who made their cause so his own, and we repudiate our share of
His blessing upon the faithful servant!
The Divine Guest.
THE DIVINE GUEST.
The long rainy season was over, the roads once more were settled, and the
happiest festival of all the year joined with the charms of Spring to draw
the Hebrew people toward their sacred city. Nowhere in the whole land was
there more to cheer the eye than in the beautiful town through which the
festal caravans from the north were now passing on their way to the
Passover. Jericho was called "the City of Palms," from the profusion of
those stately trees in its fertile valley. These now added spring blossoms
to their evergreen foliage; the sycamore was beginning to give cheering
promise of its figs, and the balsam-tree, whose gum was worth twice its
weight in silver, was showing its scanty and precious bloom in the walled
gardens, whose wealth Mark Anthony gave to Cleopatra as a fit gift from a
conqueror to a queen. The people were astir with the excitement of the
season, as the travellers began to pour into the city. Soon word went
round that the noted prophet, Jesus of Nazareth, was approaching, with a
large company about him. The wonder grew, as the report of a great miracle
upon the blind Bartimeus went from mouth to mouth. The fever reached into
quarters not abounding in Jewish enthusiasm, and quickened the calmer
blood of the revenue officers of the Roman government. The chief of them
went out to get a glimpse of the famous preacher, whom so many hailed as
the long-expected Messiah. The rich publican, being a man of small
stature, and, from his political relations, not likely to receive much
civility from the crowd at such a time, climbed up into a sycamore
fig-tree, whose spreading branches probably overhung the street. If seen
at all by the populace it was with little favor, for they hated alike his
connection with Rome and his lax, or, perhaps, his enlarged views of the
Jewish creed. To the surprise of all as much as himself, the publican is
singled out by the Messiah from among them all in the words: "Zaccheus,
make haste and come down; for to-day I must abide in thy house." The
result of this interview is all that is said of Christ's stay in that
place. The city, once an abode of kings, has passed away, and enough of
its ruin only remains to allow tradition to point out in a crumbling tower
and a solitary tree the publican's house and watch post. The story
remains, the burden of the rude rhyme of the primer, a text for many a
homily of old,--a topic for us now.
And what does it teach so much as this: that Christianity, like Christ
himself, ever strives to make the spectator feel that he is seen and is
followed home? Religion at home is the lesson, religion as a check upon
personal domestic feelings, and the life of domestic graces.
* * * * *
There is force in the point of view thus presented in the change of the
critic into the subject of criticism. Christianity is apt to be regarded
as a public ceremonial, a holiday spectacle, associated with fair weather
and large assemblies. People respect its institutions, and desire the
influence of them upon themselves and their families, are glad to be
impressed by any peculiar eloquence, and instructed by any peculiar
wisdom. But are they ready enough to take the attitude that becomes them
in view of the appeals of religion? Do they listen to the Gospel as to the
voice of God speaking to them personally; and beyond the church and
ministry, do they recognize the Providential power that has founded these
institutions, and which condescends to act through them? Is there not
sometimes a reversal of the true point of view? Instead of reverence in
the sanctuary, is there not superciliousness? Are there not many, who seem
never to have thought of bowing their heads in devotion, who have learned
to wag them with the airs of supercilious criticism? Are there not many
who are pushed up far higher in conscious elevation, than the publican's
sycamore tree; who need to hear the voice of the Master speaking from his
Gospel and Church, "Come down, make haste, for to-day I must abide in thy
house?"
* * * * *
"Thy house!"--still nearer the appeal is brought by this expression. "Thy
house!" "I will go home with thee," says the Master always in his Word,
and his search-warrant has never lost its power. There is something in
every heart that shrinks from public gaze, and every family justly
cherishes the privacy of the household. But God, if he sees us any where,
sees us there, and we reverence Him, as we receive His Word as our
household guest. There can be no serious faith or purpose until we come to
this, and are ready to take religion home with us. It will very likely
show things in a new, and sometimes startling light. We may, perhaps, pass
a tolerably creditable examination, when tested by our manner in street,
or church, or general society. Sometimes the deference of good breeding
may wear the look of inherent kindness, and refinement of address may seem
like spirituality of character. It was a severer trial for the publican,
"To-day I must abide with thee," than the mere summons to "Make haste, and
come down."
* * * * *
It is a trial that we must all undergo the moment we begin to think
seriously for ourselves; a trial, too, that cannot be shunned without
losing the best blessings of life. Let the household be examined according
to the standard, which we do honestly regard as reasonable and religious.
What are the household gods? We have not, like the Romans, the custom of
setting up images in our homes, and keeping a votive flame always burning
before them. Yet the sentiment which the Roman custom expressed, we must
in some way entertain. Every household has its idols, the emblems of its
faith or infidelity. It has many associations peculiar to itself, and
makes its own choice moreover among the associations that prevail in the
neighborhood, or world, or age. It has its own Manes, or its especial
remembrances of the departed;--it has its Lares, or favorite family
standards;--it has its Penates, or its own selection from the idols or
authorities of the people. These influences exist in the highest home and
in the humblest--are to be traced in the old nobilities, whose caste,
party, and creed, are fixed by the allegiance of a thousand years, and in
the unpretending villager who thinks himself highly favored in ancient
lore, as he reads in his family Bible the name and birth of his
grandfather. Nor are the same influences wholly wanting to those who wish
to repudiate their ancestry, the spendthrift upstarts of fortune, whose
crest, manufactured to order, is but an attempt to hide the only honorable
fact in the family history, that one ancestor was a plain, industrious
man, with energy enough to earn by his trade the wealth that heirs
squander in folly. Generally, it needs little antiquarian study to learn
the ruling genius of the house. It is not only in the house of Atreus or
Oedipus, or in the line of the Stuarts and the Bourbons, that family
griefs have their succession, and a thread of tragedy runs through their
whole history. Every family is troubled with its besetting sorrows and
sins. No man is wise until he understands his own pedigree, and interprets
himself, not simply as an isolated fact in the world, but as a branch of
the life-tree upon which he grew. If reflection does not inform the
family of its peculiar traits, experience will not fail to make the
revelation. The idle chat of the house will often exhibit the ruling
spirit, and the prattle of many a lisping child betrays the idols that he
has been trained to honor. Some names of folly or wisdom most frequent on
the lips alike of parents and children, will be the household words that
show the spirit that predominates. These names, and all attendant
influences, are to be judged by their bearing on the true aims of home.
Ask a few plain questions as the Master asks in the appeals of his
religion.
Does content live with us, or its opposite, discontent? The question
cannot be answered by any general considerations of fortune or position.
Surely discontent is found in the most extreme cases, and wealth feels
often very poor and limited because its desires rise with its means, and
its means may be distanced far by some more successful aspirant to
fortune. Discontent, ready guest of heart and home always, but never more
frequent than among us with whom plenty so swells desire, and competition
so quickens rivalry! With us, alas, too frequent guest, impoverishing
abundance by inordinate desires, and burdening too many with cares and
anxieties beyond reason and beyond strength! Often sad effect of our
luxurious civilization, that in apparently the greater number of
households, property brings new forms of want, and the demands of
ostentation become more rapacious than the natural appetites! How many
need now and always to lower their vain pride, and dignify their
mediocrity or consecrate their affluence by hearing the Master's voice
"Come down: to-day I must abide in thy house."
In some especial form the spirit of discontent is apt to tempt every
household, in view of some especial want, or vanity, or ambition. With it,
too, come some elements of strife, or indifference, or worldliness, that
need peculiar watching. Domestic life, indeed, is sacred from prying
curiosity, and it argues generally little to one's credit, to be very
accurately posted up in the accounts of home troubles. Without playing the
part of the busybody, we may study the facts of human nature, and be aware
of the developments of society. We may believe, that where several wills
are brought together, they can harmonize only as they agree by appealing
to a common standard; that no tempers, however pliant, can accord without
mutual principle; that none in authority can govern others without first
governing themselves; that a Christian spirit, earnest, kindly, devoted,
is the only safeguard of the peace and elevation of the home.
What to many seems the very genius of household comfort, an easy, pleasant
worldliness, is a wretched dependence, and will serve one very little in
bearing up against the trials of affliction, or the dangers of prosperity.
Worldliness may furnish a house, but it needs more, far more, to make a
home. Too often the very spirit that prides itself upon crowding the house
with magnificence, robs it of every true home grace. Whatever may be the
show of hospitality, there is no good cheer for an earnest heart, nothing
that returns the Christian benediction, "Peace be with this house." Too
often what is called by eminence, "society," has not one truly social
element. We read that some years ago, when the button-makers of England
were in distress, the Court relieved them at once by directing four extra
buttons to be added to the coat tails of approved mode. A refined
traveller from France, Germany, or even England, might suppose that most
of our city society had originated in some such benevolent purpose, and
our usual style of party giving had its origin in a movement for the
relief of confectioners, dancing-masters, dressmakers, and liquor dealers,
so monstrous is our outlay of money in their line, and so feeble our sense
of artistic beauty and conversational zest. No less a guest than he who
went with the Publican is needed to give the true grace, and as Christ has
been reverently and affectionately received, homes have abounded. There
was far more of favor than rebuke in the offer then made, and so it has
always proved, whenever and however accepted.
* * * * *
What is it to take the Master home with us, but to receive the most tender
and intimate revelation of God's love ever granted to men,--a searching
judge, an honest censor indeed, but more than this, a compassionate
friend, a heavenly comforter? Receive him thus, and the whole tone of life
rises. Discontent, strife, worldliness, are rebuked. The dwelling then
rests upon the Rock of Ages, the light of heaven comes mingled with the
sunshine, and divine nurture goes with the daily bread and the vital air.
A Supreme will being recognized, all refractory desires are checked and
finally subdued into the subjection which is perfect freedom. All the
while a reserve power is preparing for the emergencies that may arise.
Then man proves his best dignity by adorning strength with gentleness. The
woman rises to her true power by the magic touch of that confiding faith,
which ever wins divine virtue from the Master's mantle, even as for the
lowly suppliant at Capernaum.
Limitation of means is borne with equanimity, and developes new energies
instead of breaking down the spirits. Enlarged fortune widens the sphere
of beneficence, and repeats the Publican's vow in some way: "Lord, the
half of my goods I give to the poor; and if I have taken any thing from
any man by false accusation, I restore him fourfold." New jubilee of
justice and generosity would it not be, if true guidance of the households
of Christendom could train desires and purposes, such as sprung up in that
man's heart whilst Jesus of Nazareth dwelt in his home. We know not all
that transpired in the interview between this kindly host, and his Divine
guest; but the conclusion leads us to believe that the conversation turned
less upon the forms of ceremony and degrees of belief, than upon practical
righteousness, such as appeared impressed so mightily upon the heart of
Zaccheus in making his declaration of the worth of justice and mercy. How
many households would at once stop their folly and extravagance, and open
their eyes to the solemn realities of life, if the Divine guest were to be
sought in such a spirit.
As to the precise form in which Christianity should be acknowledged in the
family, we do not propose to lay down any minute, much less any arbitrary
rules. The great thing is to cherish a sense of God's presence, and
providence, and rule the spirit in the piety and charity which he
approves. The stated recognition of his authority we urge ever, and the
desirableness of regular use of the scriptures, and prayer daily in the
home. If there be fear of routine and indifference, let a true purpose
overcome that, and prove that the most thorough habit comports with, nay
favors, the highest freedom, and the soul, like the body, is not shackled
by an accustomed method of nurture. Of course, no round of ceremonials can
be any substitute for living religion; and there is proof enough, that the
most rigid routine of lip service may co-exist with the utmost asperity
and worldliness. Tokens, alas, there are sometimes, that what passes for
piety may bring no Christian graces to the dwelling; and some bigot, who
mistakes hatred of the world for godliness, or some flaunting modist, who
has adopted a church as a fashion, may bring churlishness or conceit in
sheep's clothing into the house. These, and all such shams, make true
religion more beautiful, and lend new attraction to the page which records
the visit of Christ to a dwelling which the scowling Pharisee scorned, but
which the love of God so richly blessed.