The Young Lady's Guide to the
Harmonious
Development of Christian Character
by Harvey Newcomb, 1843
LOVE
Although I have dwelt at considerable length upon the
fruits of the Spirit, yet so deeply do I feel impressed with the excellency
and amiable sweetness of the grace of love, that I am constrained to
commend it to my readers in a distinct chapter. Love 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 love," you will, like
the blessed Savior, "grow in favor both with God and man."
The apostle calls love the "bond of perfectness;"
"alluding to the belt 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 belt, 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 love.
Love means a benevolent disposition of heart—love to God,
and good-will to man—diffused through the whole character and conduct. But
my principal object, in this chapter, will be to consider it in its
manifestations, in our fellowship with our fellow-men; taking Paul's
description of this grace in the thirteenth chapter of First Corinthians,
and applying it so as to discover negatively what conduct is
inconsistent with love, and positively the effect of love on the
human character.
The apostle says, "Love is patient and kind; love does
not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own
way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrongdoing,
but rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things,
hopes all things, endures all things." (1 Corinthians 13:4-7)
I. Love is patient.
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 love reigns in your heart, you will consider how many
and aggravated are your own offences against God, and yet that his patience
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 love.
II. Love is kind.
"It is gracious, bountiful, courteous, and obliging." But why did the
apostle couple these two dispositions together? "Love is patient, and
is KIND." Evidently, because patience, without kindness, would be
unavailing. If you bear with the injuries or supposed offences of another,
and yet allow your mind to be soured, and your kind offices remitted, the
wound will corrode and inflame until it breaks out with tenfold violence.
But kindness 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 turns 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. 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. Love does not envy.
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 self.
There are some people 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 spirit. There may be, in
these respects, some ground of complaint. But place these people 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 lack of self-respect. If we respect
ourselves, we shall not desire the hollow 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 lack 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 lack 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
wicked 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 implore 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. Love is not boastful.
"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 vainglory, 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 importance 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 people prating much of independence of mind. They profess to
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 lack 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. You will hear them delivering their opinions dogmatically, 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 are afterwards mortified to learn 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
matters appear so plain to them, that they cannot imagine how any honest
mind can come to any other conclusions than those to which they have
arrived. 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. But their strong confidence in their opinions arises from
superficial and partial examination, and overlooking objections and
difficulties which readily occur to the well-balanced and discriminating
mind, which has thoroughly investigated the subject in hand.
Yet I would not be understood to recommend implicit
submission to the judgment and opinions even of the greatest and 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 people 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. Love does not behave 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, in all circumstances. There are many unseemly things
which render the conduct of any person repulsive and disgusting.
Forwardness, or a disposition to be conspicuous, is
unseemly, especially in a young person. It is, indeed, the duty of everyone
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 vanity, by bringing ourselves into
notice. A 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 bold 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 be found cordially cooperating 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 be 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 people often exhibit a fiery
zeal and a restless activity; but they are never roused except for the
promotion of an object with which self is in some manner identified.
To assume, in a dictatorial manner, to catechize others,
as to their views on any subject, especially if they are older than
yourself, is unseemly. You will meet with some people 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
dogmatic or a dictatorial spirit.
It is unseemly for young people 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 until his aged friends had
ceased; for he said, "multitude of years should teach wisdom." Young people
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."
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.
All coarseness, grossness, or crudeness of character is
unseemly; and the declaration that love does not behave unseemly, conveys
the idea of an exquisite propriety of deportment, free from everything
indelicate, obtrusive, repulsive, or unamiable.
VI. Love seeks 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 concerns, but also on
the concerns 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, revilement, 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, "You shall 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, the
ills of life. It 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 love which seeks 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 everyone 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 people.
VII. Love 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 be necessary to chain them! All this is the
opposite of love. 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 and
intolerable companion; thus bringing great reproach upon the cause of
Christ. Nor need anyone excuse himself on the ground of natural disposition;
for the Lord has said, "My grace is sufficient for you." 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. Love thinks no evil ,
is not suspicious, does not lay up slight expressions, or equivocal conduct,
and reason out evil from them. Love does not allow these things 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 has a most vehement flame." 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 retort, 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 incessantly 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 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. Paul did not do this. 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 implore you never to undertake the
unthankful office of censor. You will find some inexperienced people 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 him. 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 for the little faults and foibles, or even the
more marked and glaring defects of character in our brethren. The injunction
is, "If your brother trespass against you, go and tell him his
fault," etc. But we are not required 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 busybodies in other men's matters. We are
admonished, with great frequency and solemnity, to watch ourselves; but
where is the injunction, "Watch your brethren"? Even the Savior 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 browbeating 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 allow them to
continue in sin. 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—a course which 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
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 delight and delight, then it is impossible for us to obey the
sacred injunction, "Love the brethren."
IX. Love rejoices not in iniquity, but rejoices 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 food and drink.
It is the foundation of their hopes. They rest their claim for admittance
into the celestial paradise on being as consistent in their conduct as some
of 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 those who 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 people 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 solitary and silent. "He sits alone, and keeps
silence." Who ever heard of a man's proclaiming his grief to every passing
stranger? 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 is overtaken in a fault, restore
such an one in the spirit of meekness; considering yourself, lest you
also be tempted."
But, from the faultfinding 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 people. 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
disciple 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 it sold, and the money given 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 people 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—which does not reach the heart.
The humble Christian, who looks back to the "hole of the
pit whence he was dug," 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 who thinks he stands, 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. Love not only rejoices not in iniquity, but positively
rejoices 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 character 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 we are greatly deficient in the
exercise of joy and gratitude for the grace of God manifested in his
children. The Epistles of Paul generally commence with an expression of joy
and thanksgiving for the piety of those to whom he was writing. 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 how seldom are we heard thanking God for the
piety of our brethren!
Thus far, with the exception of the first two heads, and
a part of the last, we have had the negative character of love. We
now come to its POSITIVE manifestations.
X Love bears all things ;
or, as it may be rendered, covers all things. The latter seems to be
more agreeable to the context; for otherwise it would mean the same as
endures 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, "Love shall cover the multitude of sins." "Love will
draw a veil over the faults of others, so far as is consistent with duty,"
in accordance with the spirit of the golden rule, which requires us to
do unto others as we would they should do to us; for who would like to have
his faults made the subject of common conversation among his acquaintances?
And, if it is contrary to love 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
love 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 proclaiming each
other's faults in the ears of strangers? Yet the relation of God's children
is far more endearing than the ties of kinship. Suppose a family of
children, all of them in some manner deformed, yet each possessing many
excellences of person. What would be thought of them, if they were always
worrying themselves and complaining about each other's deformities? And what
would be the effect on their individual dispositions and feelings, and on
the peace and happiness of the family?
XI. Love believes all things, hopes 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. Love
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 believes every word; but the prudent man
looks 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 disposition to
discuss 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.
XIII. Love endures all things.
This is nearly synonymous with long-suffering; and yet it is a more
comprehensive expression. Love 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.
XIV. Finally, love is the practical application of the
golden rule of our Savior, and the second
table of the law, to all our fellowship with our fellow-men, diffusing
around us a spirit of kindness and benevolent feeling. It comprehends all
that is candid and generous, friendly and gentle, amiable and kind, in the
human character, regenerated by the grace of God. It is opposed to all that
is uncandid and insincere, 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 fellowship, the UNIVERSAL PANACEA,
which, if it cannot cure—will at least mitigate, all the diseases of the
social state!
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