_UNCONSCIOUS INFLUENCE._
"I say unto you, That every idle word that men shall speak, they shall
give account thereof in the day of judgment. For by thy words thou shalt
be justified, and by thy words thou shalt be condemned."--Matthew xii.
36, 37.
This is a startling, terrifying text; one of many which tempt men to
limitations and compromises of their meaning. Some persons would not
hesitate to accuse it of extravagance, and even devout Christians
sometimes pause and ask whether it is to be taken in its absolute
literalness. "Every idle word." Is not this the kind of thing which is
least amenable to a vigorous judgment? Is not the "idle," the vain,
the worthless, at the worst, thereby negative? Christ says, No. Speech
is a gift to be put to sanctified uses; and the non-use as well as the
abuse of every gift is sinful. This utterance of our Divine Master, to
be vindicated, needs only to be understood. Underlying it are vital
moral considerations which should be devoutly studied.
There are many ways in which a man can manifest himself. By his
thought, he is always known to God and to his own heart, but not to
his fellow men. To reveal himself to them, his thought must somehow
find expression. His actions are mostly intentional and deliberate;
but they are liable to be prompted, inspired, checked, or controlled
by circumstances. So, too, may be his speech; but there is a
spontaneousness, a freedom, in _that_, which belongs to no other
manifestation of the man's inward self. Thus it is by his words that
he is best judged. The largest part of our practical life is
resolvable into speech.
Christianity itself is amenable to this law. Think of the streams of
holy speech which have been flowing through the world for ages, and of
the life they have conveyed to thirsty souls. Think of these streams
as they are flowing to-day in tens of thousands of Christian
congregations, and in innumerable Sabbath schools. Compare their
influence with that of the dark utterances of heathenism, and the
disturbing teachings of unbelief. Think of the countless rills of
Christian speech which are flowing to-day from the lips of those who
love the Saviour, and who are endeavouring to make Him known in the
home, in the sick-chamber, in the prison-house, and in their various
intercourse with those around them. Compare their influence with that
of the idle, thoughtless, impious, profane talk of the millions who
are living without God; and then say whether Christianity may or may
not be judged by its words! Lord Jesus, Thou needest no justification
from such imperfect creatures as we are; but if Thou didst, it would
be enough for us to recall the gracious words that proceeded out of
thine own mouth, and then to challenge the wisdom of the ages, saying,
"Never man spake like this man!"
The general drift of the passage before us is this, that man speaks as
he is, and is as he speaks, and that, therefore, by his words he shall
be judged. His words are signs which reveal his character. Whilst, at
the last, he will be judged by his character, single words and
unnoticed deeds will, if need be, be adduced as proofs of inner and
underlying principles. Of course it is not meant that words will be
the only tests; but our Lord's language shows that they form a far
more important element of proof than is commonly supposed. In this
light, no manifestation of character is insignificant. Everything
tells. Words, looks, even gestures, have their meaning. Often to men's
eyes, and always to God's (though He does not need them) they are as
straws on the stream, showing the course of the current.
These general reflections supply the basis of the further reflections
I have to offer. My purpose is twofold: first, to show that, for good
or ill, the life of every one of us is an incessant exercise of
influence; and secondly, to deduce from this fact some important
lessons.
I. Now, generally, when men speak of exerting influence, the thought
present to their minds is of something exceptional, attractive,
commanding, or formal. Thus, such a phrase as "a person of influence"
is understood to denote a man who stands in a position of special
advantage, either (for instance) of wealth, or of mental power, or of
social importance. Hence the notion of influence is narrowed, and
ultimately it becomes false. It does so in two ways: partly by
restricting influence to a few, and then by confining it among these
few to certain peculiarities of character or of circumstance. The
truth is that influence is always going forth from every man, and from
everything _in_ man.
There are two ways in which men act upon one another. They do so
either directly, deliberately, and intentionally, or, otherwise,
indirectly and unconsciously. Thus, if I want to make men around me
generous, I may write, preach, speak, use arguments, multiply
incentives, enforce appeals. In all this I am conscious that I have a
purpose to accomplish, and in everything I say I keep that purpose in
view. If I succeed, I do so through the intentional influence I have
put into operation. I have tried to realise a definite result, and I
have not been disappointed. But I can teach generosity in another way.
Obedient to the impulses of my own heart, I may relieve the need of
some poor blind beggar on the road, who implores the passer-by to help
him. This act may be noticed by a third person whom I did not know to
be near, and it may so impress him as to open his heart and his hand
to do the kindness he had not thought of doing. Now I had no such
design with respect to _him_; for the time, I had nothing in view
beyond meeting an appeal for help which came personally to myself. I
was unconscious of the influence I exerted upon the person who
followed my example, and yet I did for him as much as if I had set
myself to develop an argument or to enforce a claim.
Now, if at this point the question be asked: "Are we responsible for
this undesigned influence?" the answer is that we certainly _are_ so,
inasmuch as it springs from, and manifests, character. We must not be
misled by the fact that this quiet, unconscious action is not that of
which the world takes much notice. Men do not speak of it, as they do
of the striking and commanding agencies which form so large a portion
of the history of the day. Some of these are powerful on a wide scale,
as in the case of a popular preacher, or a great philanthropist. But
the influence of which we are speaking is exerted within narrower
circles. It acts, not upon the masses by wide-spread impressions, but
upon individuals by single strokes; not upon the broad platform of
public enterprise, but within the more contracted sphere of personal
life. The supposition that it is feeble on that account is a grave
mistake. Our personal relationships are more numerous and more
continuous than our public avocations, and it is in the former rather
than in the latter that we are most effectually training our fellow
creatures for good or evil. Sometimes, too, this quiet influence is
brought to light with important results, as when John Bright was
discovered reading the Scriptures in the cottage of a poor blind
woman. No public act of his--splendid as all his public acts
are--could furnish a truer indication of character than this simple
and, to most people's eyes, this unimportant incident in his history.
That the value of direct influence in promoting the well-being of
mankind is incalculable there can be no doubt. All our great
undertakings--social, political, and religious--are of this kind. The
progress which the world has made in every right direction is greatly
due to the combined efforts put forth by societies or bodies of men
who have had truth to propagate, or blessing to diffuse, and who have
steadily directed their energies to the end in view. Associations for
Political Reform, Temperance Societies, British Schools, Ragged
Schools, Sunday Schools, Tract Societies, Missionary Agencies,
Mothers' Meetings, Church, Chapel, out-door, and theatre services, are
all of this sort; and the harvest of good reaped from them only God
knows, at whose inspiration and in whose name all good is done.
Statistics tell us much, but far more remains untold. All this
well-directed action is in accordance with the Divine order. God wills
that we should use judiciously and zealously applied effort for each
other's welfare, especially in connection with the spread of His
truth. Every Christian agency is a form of obedience to the great
command: "Preach the gospel to every creature." Such action, moreover,
is in accordance with our convictions. We _must_ labour, formally and
intentionally, on behalf of any and every cause which lies near to our
hearts. Imagine all these direct agencies to be suddenly and
completely withdrawn--what would then become of our poor world? Would
it not speedily lapse into a mournful, moral waste--a training-school
for present and everlasting perdition? Multiplied and energetically
worked as these agencies are, the condition of the world is bad
enough. The appalling needs of the world demand heroic effort; and, as
I have said, the amount of good already wrought by this is beyond
calculation.
Nevertheless, the other kind of influence--the indirect and
unconscious--is invested also with an importance which is
incalculable; and it will be a blessed time both for the Church and
for the world when this truth comes to be practically remembered as it
should be. Let us consider this matter a little further, bearing in
mind, as we do so, that the application of the subject must be to the
Christian conscience of us all.
I. Notice some differences between the two kinds of influence which
have been named.
1. We have already said the influence which we consciously exert is
the result of forethought, and deliberately contemplates an end, the
attainment of which is steadily kept in view; whilst our unconscious
influence is spontaneous, and has no premeditation or calculation
about it. We need only add here, that the action of this unconscious
influence is very immediate; a fact which is explained by the
mysterious insight which enables men to look into, and to understand,
one another. We form judgments of men every day without data that we
can adduce. These judgments are instinctive, and they are more
frequently right than wrong. How is it that we conceive a sudden
repugnance to one, and at first sight fall in love with another? The
impression made needed only a word, a tone, a look, a gesture, a
smile, a tear; on so slender a basis a judgment was formed which will
last a life-time, or which years will be required to modify.
2. Our unconscious influence is a perpetual emanation from ourselves.
Direct effort need not truly express us at all. It may be imposed upon
us by circumstances which we cannot control. Often we should avoid it
if we could. Moreover, when it is voluntary and unconstrained, it is a
thing of times, seasons, places, and conditions in life, and is
therefore more or less fitful, partial, and intermittent. The other
kind of influence acts continuously--without pauses, without breaks,
without paroxysms. It is thus that every man--high or low--in spheres
extended or narrow, without intention, forethought or consciousness of
the fact, is always leading some one more or less closely after him:
it may be wife, friend, little child, or stranger; but some one most
surely.
3. This unconscious influence is necessarily simple. It makes its
appeal to all kinds of human judgment, and to all degrees of human
insight. It is quickly apprehended, by the ignorant and the young as
well as by the learned and mature. Many of our direct and most
definitely-arranged efforts are misunderstood. They tax people's
thought; they demand reflection; and they frequently excite
differences of opinion. How many instances there are in which the most
cogent and strongly-urged arguments are lost, while the quiet and
undesigned force of example succeeds.
4. Our unconscious influence is the more powerful because it excites
no suspicion. It is intuitively felt to represent our inner self in
the direction, and within the range, of its present meaning. Many of
our direct efforts put men upon their guard. If they are hostile to
our intentions, they resist our formal endeavours; if they are
indifferent, they become impatient of our zeal. But direct efforts,
moreover, are often thought to be mainly _professional_, and this
impression concerning them places them at a disadvantage. On the other
hand, our unconscious influence wins men unconsciously to
themselves--wins them when they are off their guard--and thus wins
them in spite of themselves.
II. How, then, does this fact of our unconscious influence touch the
question of our responsibility? In what sense, and on what grounds,
are we accountable for it?
1. It is conditioned by our character. It reproduces outwardly what we
are within. If our character, or, as the Divine Master terms it, our
"heart" be good, then our unconscious influence must be good likewise;
if our character--our "heart"--be evil, our unconscious influence must
also be evil. As we are responsible for the motives which actuate us,
so are we responsible for every form of conduct that proceeds
therefrom. It must, of course, be admitted that even in a
fundamentally holy character there are ever and anon exceptional
mistakes, inconsistencies, and flaws. How many of these, He only knows
who forgives all. But we are speaking of great moral tendencies; and
concerning these we are in no doubt. They reveal _character_, and they
share the responsibility, in regard to their influence, which belongs
to character.
2. It is by this unconscious influence that we act most on those who
are nearest to us. Children, members of our families, fellow-workmen,
and acquaintances--all these are much more affected by the general
tenour of our conduct, and the so-thought trivial indications of our
character, than by our more formal efforts. Alas, it often happens
that these latter are made ineffectual by the operation of the former.
A practical inconsistency in a parent's life at home will drive away
from the mind and conscience of a child the force of the best and most
frequently repeated precept. Even when direct and well-meant effort is
put forth, it is often comparatively powerless apart from the help it
derives from the unconscious influence that accompanies it. A smile, a
look, a sigh, a tear, will often put life into an argument which may
be sound enough in itself, but which, without such an auxiliary,
would be dry, uninteresting, and therefore ineffective. Is all this
influence outside the range of our responsibility?
3. Our indirect influence is our _truest_. It best represents _us_. In
formal effort, there is room for a more or less transient enthusiasm,
love of excitement, love of applause, self-seeking, hypocrisy. But our
unconscious influence belongs to us at all times--follows us, and is
as true to us as the shadow follows, and is true to, the substance. We
cannot escape from it. It proceeds from us spontaneously, without our
volition; and it mirrors externally what we are radically and in the
recesses of our real being. If we be responsible for what we really
are, we must be responsible for the influence we thus spontaneously
and inevitably exert.
4. Another ground of this responsibility is that, on reflection, we
know that it is by these unconscious exhibitions of character that the
world is constantly judging us. Often the judgment of the world is
harsh, and commonly uncharitable; but it is shrewd, and generally
there is a rough justice about it which marks its worth.
These considerations, and many more that might be adduced, show how
solemn is our responsibility with respect to the impressions we are
constantly and unconsciously producing on those around us. As in
nature, so in human life, the most unobtrusive and silent forces are
the strongest. The nightly dew effects more good than the occasional
storm-shower, and light works more wonders than lightning.