"_IS_ he a Christian?"
The question reached my ear as I sat conversing with a friend, and I
paused in the sentence I was uttering, to note the answer.
"Oh, yes; he is a Christian," was replied.
"I am rejoiced to hear you say so. I was not aware of it before," said
the other.
"Yes; he has passed from death unto life. Last week, in the joy of his
new birth, he united himself to the church, and is now in fellowship
with the saints."
"What a blessed change!"
"Blessed, indeed. Another soul saved; another added to the great
company of those who have washed their robes, and made them white in
the blood of the Lamb. There is joy in heaven on his account."
"Of whom are they speaking?" I asked, turning to my friend.
"Of Fletcher Gray, I believe," was replied.
"Few men stood more in need of Christian graces," said I. "If he is,
indeed, numbered with the saints, there is cause for rejoicing."
"By their fruits ye shall know them," responded my friend. "I will
believe his claim to the title of Christian, when I see the fruit in
good living. If he have truly passed from death unto life, as they say,
he will work the works of righteousness. A sweet fountain will not send
forth bitter waters."
My friend but expressed my own sentiments in this, and all like cases.
I have learned to put small trust in "profession;" to look past the
Sunday and prayer-meeting piety of people, and to estimate religious
quality by the standard of the Apostle James. There must be genuine
love of the neighbor, before there can be a love of God; for neighborly
love is the ground in which that higher and purer love takes root. It
is all in vain to talk of love as a mere ideal thing. Love is an active
principle, and, according to its quality, works. If the love be
heavenly, it will show itself in good deeds to the neighbor; but, if
infernal, in acts of selfishness that disregard the neighbor.
"I will observe this Mr. Gray," said I, as I walked homeward from the
company, "and see whether the report touching him be true. If he is,
indeed, a 'Christian,' as they affirm, the Christian graces of meekness
and charity will blossom in his life, and make all the air around him
fragrant."
Opportunity soon came. Fletcher Gray was a store-keeper, and his life
in the world was, consequently, open to the observation of all men. He
was likewise a husband and a father. His relations were, therefore, of
a character to give, daily, a test of his true quality.
It was only the day after, that I happened to meet Mr. Gray under
circumstances favorable to observation. He came into the store of a
merchant with whom I was transacting some business, and asked the price
of certain goods in the market. I moved aside, and watched him
narrowly. There was a marked change in the expression of his
countenance and in the tones of his voice. The former had a sober,
almost solemn expression; the latter was subdued, even to
plaintiveness. But, in a little while, these peculiarities gradually
disappeared, and the aforetime Mr. Gray stood there
unchanged--unchanged, not only in appearance, but in character. There
was nothing of the "yea, yea," and "nay, nay," spirit in his
bargain-making, but an eager, wordy effort to gain an advantage in
trade. I noticed that, in the face of an asservation that only five per
cent. over cost was asked for a certain article, he still endeavored to
procure it at a lower figure than was named by the seller, and finally
crowded him down to the exact cost, knowing as he did, that the
merchant had a large stock on hand, and could not well afford to hold
it over.
"He's a sharper!" said the merchant, turning towards me as Gray left
the store.
"He's a Christian, they say," was my quiet remark.
"A Christian!"
"Yes; don't you know that he has become religious, and joined the
church?"
"You're joking!"
"Not a word of it. Didn't you observe his subdued, meek aspect, when he
came in?"
"Why, yes; now that you refer to it, I do remember a certain
peculiarity about him. Become pious! Joined the church! Well, I'm
sorry!"
"For what?"
"Sorry for the injury he will do to a good cause. The religion that
makes a man a better husband, father, man of business, lawyer, doctor,
or preacher, I reverence, for it is genuine, as the lives of those who
accept it do testify. But your hypocritical pretenders I scorn and
execrate."
"It is, perhaps, almost too strong language, this, as applied to Mr.
Gray," said I.
"What is a hypocrite?" asked the merchant.
"A man who puts on the semblance of Christian virtues which he does not
possess."
"And that is what Mr. Gray does when he assumes to be religious. A true
Christian is just. Was he just to me when he crowded me down in the
price of my goods, and robbed me of a living profit, in order that he
might secure a double gain? I think not. There is not even the live and
let live principle in that. No--no, sir. If he has joined the church,
my word for it, there is a black sheep in the fold; or, I might say,
without abuse of language, a wolf therein disguised in sheep's
clothing."
"Give the man time," said I. "Old habits of life are strong, you know.
In a little while, I trust that he will see clearer, and regulate his
life from perceptions of higher truths."
"I thought his heart was changed," answered the merchant, with some
irony in his tones. "That he had been made a new creature."