1 Corinthiens 13:4-8

Charity suffereth long, and is kind.

Christian love

I. Suffers long. The Greek denotes having the power “to hold the mind long,” i.e., it is the opposite to rash anger. There are persons who, when they are afflicted by Providence, or provoked by man, are unable to hold their minds. Like the water which has mastered the dam, so do some men’s unhappy feelings rise and overspread their families and neighbourhood. But when one has failed in his duty towards the charitable man it may grieve him, but he seeks for grace to bear the trial. He holds his mind long; and while not forgetful of the demands of justice, is influenced by the spirit of forgiveness.

II. Is not easily provoked. If a man’s spirit be fully imbued with an affectionate complacency towards God and man, he is not thrown into bitter resentments by unjust usage. He is “slow to wrath.” Provocations must and will arise. The state of the health, mind, temperature, circumstances, will make a man more disposed to fretfulness or reserve, one day than another. “Behold how great a matter a little fire kindleth!” A family pique has overthrown an empire, and a bodily sensation directed the course and given the feeling to a man’s life! But the spirit of the charitable man does not soon become acid. His injured feelings do not ferment into vinegar.

III. Beareth all things, or “covereth all things.” “Hatred stirreth up strife, but love covereth all sins.” As you would conceal a defect in your person, or cover up what was offensive on your grounds, so does the spirit of the gospel lead us to hide a brother’s infirmities from the animadversion of others. The spirit of envy and revenge would lead you to speak of the misconduct of others with exasperated feelings. But here an objection has arisen. “How unmanly is this charity which you commend! Are we then to be trampled upon? “Not so: love can feel injured, and seek redress, but not recklessly and bitterly; and when in pursuit of her rights she is all the while calm and kind and universally benevolent.

IV. Endureth all things. Christian love remains under its burdens. Bad usage from man and affliction from God it teaches us to sustain. Let the conduct of Christ illustrate the spirit of His own religion. He was not impatient with the ignorant, or revengeful upon His persecutors. (Isaac Taylor.)

Features of love

These features are--

I. Manifold. There are some landscapes that are almost tame; some faces not featureless, but not marked and vivid. Not so with love. It is the landscape of Devonshire rather than Lincolnshire; of Switzerland rather than Holland. Read this description--there is no monotony, eye bright, brow clear, lips strong and definite.

II. Harmonious.

1. There is the presence of all that could complete character. Patience, kindness, joy, fortitude. “Strength and beauty are in the sanctuary”; the full diapason of the music of morals.

2. There is the absence of any element that could be disfigurement or discord. “Envieth not, is not puffed up,” etc.

III. Beautiful. There is not one virtue in this description that is not like a splendid Corinthian column. Nothing deforms the landscape, nothing disfigures the face. Rather every element heightens the loveliness. There is not only a wealth, but a wealth of the beauties of love.

IV. Permanent. “The grass withers, the flowers fade”; even “the human face Divine” grows old, the brow wrinkled, the eye dim, the mouth weak. The beauty of love is imperishable. “Love never faileth.” The word “faileth” pictures either a flower whose petals never fall off, or an actor “who is never hissed off the stage, has its part to play on the stage of eternity.” (U. R. Thomas.)

Christian love

Why has the Church assigned this chapter to Quinquagesima Sunday, the Sunday immediately preceding the season of Lent? We shall be able to answer that question if we consider what the season of Lent means, and why it has been set apart as a season of special humiliation, self-mortification, and prayer. Lent is the introduction to Good Friday and Easter Day. It is meant to prepare us better to realise and understand the great mystery of godliness, the unsearchable riches of God’s truth, so beautifully summed up in the words of Jesus (Luc 18:31). We cannot take one step forward into the knowledge of God’s truth without love. Love is the very first condition without which it is impossible to see even the outside of the great mystery of godliness. Let a man look at the Cross of Christ, and without the light of love it will be foolishness to him, Or let him look at the power of God manifested in the resurrection of Christ, and without the light of love: it will be a riddle to him. Love is the microscope which reveals the hidden and deep things which the careless eye scans without any sense of their inexpressible beauty and value. You have noticed, have you not, on a calm and sunny day, how softly and how beautifully the clear bright sky above us is reflected in the still surface of some deep pool of water? The sky, you know, is, as it were, received into the bosom of the water. Now, God’s truth is just like the sky above; and the heart that is full of love--love to God and love to man--the heart that is steeped in love is just like the still surface of the deep and steady pool. It can receive the truth into itself and reflect it. If we suffer the gusts of passion, of hatred, and envy, and malice, and uncharitableness, and ill-will to sweep over our hearts and ruffle them, we shall become quite incapable of receiving and discerning the truth. We shall be no longer like the steady lake which receives the glorious sky so beautifully into its bosom, and mirrors it back so faithfully. Surely, then, we have great need to pray for love; we have great need to pray that God will send His Holy Spirit, and pour into our hearts that most excellent gift of charity. Where shall we find anything fairer, anything pleasanter to behold or more joyful to possess than charity? Is selfishness, or ill-will, or pride, or vanity, or any other thing that is not of God, either more beautiful to look upon, or more delightful to hold, than charity? Oh, then, let us, as the apostle bids in the first words of the next chapter, “follow after charity.” So doing, we shall be laying hold of that which is imperishable. (Canon D. J. Vaughan.)

Love as a regulator

1. Every great engine is brought to precision of movement, to the quiet and steady exertion of power, by means of a governor or regulator. The world is full of jarrings and disturbances, and man finds a strange warfare going on in his own breast. Such was the state of things when Christ came. He saw the need of some Divine principle of life to act as a regulator both in the individual and in society. This regulator is love: the life of the soul; the all-pervasive and all-controlling energy of our spiritual being.

2. The apostle, in his vivid analysis of this Divine principle, looks upon it as embodied in character. He tells how this lovely personage will think, speak, and act in the midst of unloveliness and sin. He views love as a person in her attitude--

I. Towards self.

1. She is modest and unassuming. “She vaunteth not herself.” While she maintains a true self-respect and a wise estimate of her own worthiness she never displays arrogance or self-conceit.

2. “She seeketh not her own.” The belittling limitations of selfishness are not permitted to dwarf the outgoings of her generous heart.

II. Towards the truth.

1. This is one of affectionate desire and rejoicing. Here truth is also personified. Both experience profound satisfaction in the enlightenment and ennobling of man.

2. In reference to truth and its ultimate triumph love is also trustful and hopeful. “She believeth all things.” This does not signify credulity, for there is nothing so wise and discerning as love. Discerning but not doubtful, she rejoices to accept every revelation or manifestation of God.

3. Her temperament, or, better, her faith is buoyant and cheerful. “She hopeth all things.” Expects good instead of evil; is not foreboding and gloomy; trusts a kind Providence; believes in the possibilities of men.

III. Towards others.

1. “Love suffereth long.” In the face of provocation where others would be vehement with passion, she maintains her own serene dignity. This is almost identical with “not easily provoked,” “beareth all things,” “endureth all things.” These manifold expressions reveal love as a personage of great moral strength, as well as of unrivalled loveliness. She maintains constant equipoise of spirit.

2. “Is kind.” Her self-forgetful love makes her gracious, benignant, generous, and forgiving under all circumstances.

3. “Envieth not.” Competition is the most conspicuous trait of men in their relations one with another. To live without envy is a miracle of grace.

4. “Does not behave itself unseemly.” She has a delicate discernment of what is appropriate at all times and places; is never indecorous or unrefined.

5. “Thinketh,” or “ taketh not account of evil.” Not suspicious or self-seeking by nature, she does not impute evil to others.

6. “Rejoices not in unrighteousness.” The world seems to take delight in the downfall of others. Yet love grieves and blushes at another’s immorality. (D. W. Pratt, M.A.)

Love suffereth

I. What? Unkindness, opposition, injury, etc.

II. How?

1. Long.

2. Patiently.

3. Without resentment.

III. Why?

1. For Christ’s sake.

2. For man’s sake.

3. In hope. (J. Lyth, D.D.)

Love suffereth long

I once undertook a duty the like of which I would never attempt again. A widow lady had a son--a poor prodigal. He had spent his all, and was fast making inroads upon his mother’s little competence. Some friends had suggested that I should call upon her, and offer a gentle expostulation. I did so. I fancy that I can see her now--her white hair and her widow’s cap. She patiently heard my message, but she turned to me in tears, and said, “Yes, Mr. Garrett, you are very kind, you mean well, and all you say is true; but still, after all, he is my son!” (C. Garrett.)

The long-suffering of chastity

is not feebleness, cowardice, indifference, nor imbecility; but a principle perfectly consonant with the largest mental endowments, the loftiest aims and the noblest endeavours, with freedom of speech, firmness of purpose, and unwearied perseverance in well-doing; while it is totally opposed to all temporising expedients, vacillating policies, and inconstant endeavours. Christ is our example of long-suffering charity; yet witness how He clears His Father’s temple of the sacrilegious throng, and rebukes the wickedness of the Scribes and Pharisees. It is the depth of the river, not its shallowness, that makes it so smooth and gentle in its flow; and the mountain stream, which in the drought of summer went brawling from rock to rock and from pool to pool, with a thousand disturbances of its surface and misdirections of its course, now, when the autumn rains have fallen, or the winter snows have melted, and tributary torrents have swollen it to full flood, guides with an evenness and beauty between its green banks, with a placidity of strength and a unity of might which, while pleasant to behold, is terrible to withstand. Even so charity, subordinating all the feelings and faculties of the soul to one Divine impulse, and consecrating all to one holy and benevolent purpose, flows on with a mild and gentle majesty, undisturbed by rude speeches and unkind actions, and never diverted from its aim by the annoying accidents of society, straight forward to the vast ocean of blessed being, its destined union with God in Christ, and all that is great and good and happy in the universe. The tranquil meekness of charity, therefore, is perfectly consistent with true grandeur of soul, and of all true grandeur of soul is itself an essential element; even as the most perfect harmony consists with the mightiest tones in music, and the nicest cultivation of plants contributes to their most stately forms and most luxuriant fruitfulness, and the careful discipline of domestic animals results in the development of superior stature, with more strength of muscle, and greater fleetness of course, and whatever else belongs to the utmost perfection of their nature. (J. Cross, D.D.)

Charity disposes us meekly to bear injuries

Meekness is a great part of the Christian spirit (Matthieu 11:1). And meekness, as it respects injuries received from men, is called long-suffering, the fruit of the true Christian spirit (Galates 5:22; Éphésiens 4:1; Colossiens 3:12). Note--

I. Some of the kinds of injuries that we may receive from others. Some injure others--

1. In their estates by unfairness and dishonesty in their dealings.

2. In their good name, by reproaching or speaking evil of them behind their backs.

3. In their thoughts, by unjustly entertaining a low esteem of them (Job 5:21; Psaume 140:3).

4. In their injurious treatment.

II. How such injuries ought meekly to be borne.

1. The nature of the duty enjoined. It implies that injuries should be borne--

(1) Without doing anything to revenge them.

(2) With the continuance of love in the heart, and without those passions that tend to interrupt and destroy it.

(3) Without our losing the quietness and repose of our own minds and hearts (Luc 21:19).

(4) With willingness to suffer much in our interests and feelings for the sake of peace, rather than do what we have opportunity, and perhaps the right, to do in defending ourselves (1 Corinthiens 6:7).

2. Why it is called long-suffering.

(1) Because we ought meekly to bear not only a small injury, but also a good deal of injurious treatment from others.

(2) Because in some cases we should be willing to suffer a great while in our interests, before we improve opportunities of righting ourselves.

III. How that love, which is the sum of the Christian spirit, will dispose us meekly to bear such injuries.

1. Love to God and Christ has a tendency to dispose us to this; for it--

(1) Disposes us to imitate Him, and therefore disposes us to such long-suffering as He manifests (Exode 34:6; Romains 2:4; 1 Timothée 1:12).

(2) Disposes us thus to express our gratitude for His long-suffering exercised toward us.

(3) Tends to humility, which is one main root of a meek and long-suffering spirit (Éphésiens 4:2).

(4) Disposes men to have regard to the hand of God in the injuries they suffer, and not only to the hand of man, and meekly to submit to His will therein (2 Samuel 16:5; 2 Samuel 16:10).

(5) Sets us very much above the injuries of men.

(a) Because nothing can ever really hurt those that are the true friends of God (Romains 8:28; 1 Pierre 3:13).

(b) Because the more we love God, the more we shall place all our happiness in Him.

2. Love to our neighbour will dispose us to the same. Long-suffering and forbearance are always the fruit of love (Éphésiens 4:1; Proverbes 10:12).

Conclusion: The subject--

1. Exhorts us all to the duty of meekly bearing the injuries that may be received from others. Consider--

(1) The example that Christ has set us (2 Corinthiens 10:1). He meekly bore innumerable and very great injuries from men.

(2) If we are not disposed meekly to bear injuries, we are not fitted to live in the world, for in it we must expect to meet with many injuries from men (Matthieu 10:16).

(3) In this way we shall be most above injuries. He that has established such a spirit that the injuries received from others do not disturb the calmness of his mind, lives, as it were, out of their reach.

(4) The spirit of Christian long-suffering, and of meekness in bearing injuries, is a mark of true greatness of soul (Proverbes 16:32; Proverbes 14:29; Jaques 3:13).

(5) The spirit of Christian long-suffering and meekness is commended to us by the example of the saints.

(6) This is the way to be rewarded with the exercise of the Divine long-suffering toward us (Psaume 18:25; Matthieu 7:2; Matthieu 7:14).

2. But some, in their hearts, may object--

(1) That the injuries they receive from men are intolerable.

(a) Do you think the injuries you have received from your fellow-man are more than you have offered to God?

(b) Do you not hope that as God hitherto has, so He will still bear with you in all this, and that notwithstanding all, He will exercise toward you His infinite love and favour?

(c) When you think of such long-suffering on God’s part, do you not approve of it, and think well of it, and that it is not only worthy and excellent, but exceeding glorious?

(d) If such a course be excellent and worthy to be approved of in God, why is it not so in yourself?

(e) Would you be willing, for all the future, that God should no longer bear with the injuries you may offer Him, and the offences you commit against Him?

(f) Did Christ turn again upon those who injured and insulted and trod on Him, when He was here below; and was He not injured far more grievously than ever you have been?

(2) That those who have injured you, persist in it, and do not at all repent, but go on doing it still. But what opportunity could there be for long-suffering, if injury were not persisted in long?

(3) That your enemies will be encouraged to go on with their injuries. But you do not know this, for you have not an insight into the future, nor into the hearts of men. And, beside, God will undertake for you if you obey His commands; and He is more able to put a stop to the wrath of man than you are (Romains 12:19). (Jon. Edwards.)

The patience of love

I. Its manifestations. There may be a world where love is not strained and taxed as it is here. Here there is certainly scope for the manifestation of patience in--

1. The relationships of life.

2. The antagonisms of life.

3. The philanthropy of life.

And in all these it is claimed and will be manifested in--

(1) Gentleness,

(2) Unsuspiciousness,

(3) Tolerance,

(4) Forgivingness,

(5) Continuance.

II. Its beauty. Love is--

1. Sensitive, yet patient. Not hard and servile.

2. Anxious, yet patient. Eager, not apathetic.

III. The explanation. Because love cares for the beloved rather than for self. Self is thrown away in the interests of others, the welfare of others, This patience and all the powers of love are in its self-sacrifice. (U. R. Thomas.)

The patience of Christ’s love

God suffereth Himself to be conceived in the womb of a mother, and abideth the time: and being born, waiteth to grow up: and being grown up, is not eager to be acknowledged, but putteth a further slight upon Himself, and is baptized by His own servant, and repelleth the attacks of the tempter by words only. When from the Lord He became the Master, teaching man to escape death, having well learned, for salvation’s sake, the forgiving spirit of offended patience: He strove not: He cried not: the shattered reed He did not break, the smoking flax He did not quench--God did put His own Spirit in His Son with perfection of patience. None that desired to cleave to Him did He not receive: no man’s table or house did He despise. Yea, Himself ministered to the washing of His disciples’ feet (even of him who betrayed Him). He scorned not the sinners nor the publicans. He was not angry with that city which would not receive Him. He healed the unthankful. He gave place to those who laid snares for Him. He, at whose side, if He had desired it, legions of angels from heaven would at one word have been present, approved not the avenging sword of even a single disciple. In Malchus the patience of the Lord was wounded. Wherefore also He cursed the works of the sword for ever after, and by the restoration of soundness to him whom He had not Himself hurt, He made satisfaction through patience, the mother of mercy and charity. The Lord Jesus is long-suffering and kind: is patient and gentle. I pass in silence the Crucifixion, for it was for that that He came in the world: yet, was there need of insult, alas! that He might undergo death? But being about to leave the world, He desired to be filled to the full with the pleasure of patience. He is spit upon, is beaten, is mocked, is foully clothed, and still more foully crowned. Wondrous constancy in long-suffering and patience! (Tertullian.)

Charity is considerate

Louis XIV in a gay party at Versailles thought he perceived an opportunity of relating a facetious story. He commenced but ended abruptly and insipidly. One of the company soon after leaving the room, the king said, “I am sure you must all have observed how uninteresting my anecdote was. I did not recollect till I began that the turn of the narrative reflected very severely on the immediate ancestor of the Prince Armigue, who has just quitted us; and on this as on every occasion, I think it far better to spoil a good story than to distress a worthy man.” (W. Baxendale.)

Love is kind

1. In spirit.

2. In action.

3. To all.

4. At all times.

5. Without selfish ends. (J. Lyth, D.D.)

The kindness of love

Like the last word, this is one in frequent use by our apostle. He employs it--

1. As an avowal of his own attitude to men.

2. As an injunction to others.

3. As a description of God.

The thing he here indicates is rather the fragrance of the whole flower of love than any one of its petals, the lustre of the entire diamond rather than any one of its facets. Kindness is--

I. A charm of the Christian life. The word is a beautiful word, and is the expression of a beautiful grace; sometimes being rendered gentleness, goodness--in the Rheims’ version-benignity. It is not simply a manner, but a moral loveliness that shines through all manner.

II. An obligation of the Christian life. It is not an ornament to be worn at option, but the constant garb of our life, not a work of supererogation, but a necessary, essential, and elemental duty. (U. R. Thomas.)

The kindness of Christian charity

It is like the teeming cloud, emptying its copious blessing upon the thirsty soil. It is like the swelling stream, overflowing its banks to enrich the plantations of the valley. It is like the fruitful field, pouring its golden harvest into the exhausted granary. It is like the generous oak, shaking the genial dew from its branches upon the humbler herbage at its roots. Nay, it is like God’s incarnate love, walking the sinful world, chasing sorrow from the abodes of men, shedding the light of immortality into the valley of the shadow of death, and amidst the dissonances of human selfishness singing a melody which charms the angels down from heaven! (J. Cross, D.D.)

Charity benignant

In things lawful and things indifferent it bends to the partialities and predilections of others, studying to please all for their good to edification. It would not needlessly crush the wing of an insect, much less inflict upon a rational and immortal being an evil remediless and everlasting. It is eminently pacific and conciliatory; as far as possible without any compromise of the Christian law, endeavouring to live peaceably with all men, and labouring in many ways to promote the harmony of human society. As the sea is composed of drops, and the earth is compacted of atoms, and the daylight is only a profusion of inappreciable rays, and forest and field are refreshed and beautified by millions of imperceptible particles of dew, so it is the aggregate of little things that makes the happiness or unhappiness of domestic and social life; and charity is attentive to the minutest circumstance that can affect the comfort and welfare of mankind, planting here a lily and there a rose where she cannot convert the whole desert into a paradise, pouring in a thousand tiny rivulets to swell the great ocean of human blessedness, and thus impressing the universal conviction of her kindness. (J. Angell James.)

Longsuffering and kindness

Dr. M’Crie, in his life of the late Sir Andrew Agnew, M.P., says; “We were speaking one day of the difficulty of confessing Christ before the world. It was affecting to hear Sir Andrew acknowledge this difficulty, who had borne Christ’s reproach so manfully in all places. He told me, that when he first began to take up the cause of the Sabbath, there were many worldly men who disliked him so much that they seemed anxious to stare him out of their company, and that he had felt this particularly at the New Club. One honourable baronet, not satisfied with this species of annoyance, when he saw that Sir Andrew had courage enough to despise it, and to frequent the club regularly every day notwithstanding, began speaking at him, and acting as rudely as he could towards him. One morning Sir Andrew was waiting for his breakfast at the club, when the baronet to whom I allude came in, apparently in great agitation. Sir Andrew, perceiving this, asked him if anything was wrong; to which he replied that his lady had last night had an attack of paralysis, and that she was dangerously ill. Sir Andrew said he felt for him sincerily, and expressed his sympathy warmly. Next morning he met him again with his two sons, who had come to see their mother, and he asked for Lady--with much interest. The answer was that he had been sitting up with her all night, and that she was no better. Ultimately, however, she did recover; and on one occasion afterwards, the baronet referred to came up to Sir Andrew, and with feeling that did him great honour, said, ‘Sir Andrew, there are many people who like to laugh at you and abuse you, because of your Sabbath principles, and I confess that I have been among the number, but I trust I shall never so far forget myself again.’

Charity disposes us to do good

I. The nature of the duty of doing good to others. And here three things are to be considered, viz.

1. The act. Persons may do good--

(1) To the souls of others, which is the most excellent way of doing good.

(2) In outward things, and for this world (Matthieu 25:35). in three ways Christianity requires us to do good to others.

(a) To give to others (Luc 6:38).

(b) To do for others (1 Thesaloniciens 2:9; Hébreux 6:10).

(c) To suffer for others (Galates 6:2; 1 Jean 3:16).

2. The objects of this act are often spoken of in the Scriptures by the expression, “our neighbour” (Luc 10:29, etc.). We are to do good--

(1) Both to the good and to the bad (Matthieu 5:43).

(2) To friends and enemies (Matthieu 5:44).

(3) To the thankful and the unthankful (Luc 6:35).

3. The manner in which we should do good to others. This is expressed in the single word “freely.” This seems implied in the words of the text; for to be kind is to have a disposition freely to do good. And this doing good freely implies--

(1) That our doing good be not in a mercenary spirit (Luc 6:35; Luc 14:12).

(2) That we do it cheerfully or heartily, and with real good-will to the one we would benefit (1 Pierre 4:9; 2 Corinthiens 9:7; Romains 12:8; Deutéronome 15:10).

(3) That we do it liberally and bountifully (2 Corinthiens 9:8; 2 Corinthiens 9:11; Deutéronome 15:8; Proverbes 11:25; 2 Corinthiens 9:6).

II. That a Christian spirit will dispose us thus to do good to others. And this appears from two considerations.

1. The main thing in that love which is the sum of the Christian spirit is benevolence, or good-will to others (Luc 2:14).

2. The most proper and conclusive evidence that such a principle is real and sincere is its being effectual. The proper and conclusive evidence of our wishing or willing to do good to another is to do it. The Scriptures therefore speak of doing good as the proper and full evidence of love (1 Jean 3:18; Jaques 2:15).

Conclusion:

1. What a great honour it is to be made an instrument of good in the world (Genèse 12:2). Eastern kings and governors used to assume to themselves the title of benefactors, that is, “doers of good,” as the most honourable that could think of (Luc 22:25).

2. Thus freely to do good to others, is but to do to them as we would have them do to us.

3. How kind God and Christ have been to us (2 Corinthiens 8:9; 1 Pierre 1:4).

4. What great rewards are promised to those that freely do good to others (Psaume 18:25; Actes 20:35; Matthieu 25:34). (Jon. Edwards.)

Charity envieth not.--

Charity not envious

To see that envy is utterly incompatible with charity, we need but glance at some of its characteristic qualities and fruits.

I. Charity is disinterested goodness; envy is unmingled selfishness. It would grasp all riches, absorb all enjoyment, engross all admiration and esteem. Every superior and every rival would it destroy, and live alone in an impoverished or depopulated universe. The envious man, like Gideon’s fleece, would absorb every particle of moisture that falls from heaven, and leave all around him dewless as the desert.

II. Charity is the brotherhood of the heart; envy is as malicious as it is selfish. Joseph was hated by his brethren because he was beloved by his father, and because his dream made him their superior. And Haman was full of indignation against Mordecai because he held a high place in the favour of the king. And the same evil spirit inflamed the wrath of Saul against David. The envious man resents the good of others, as if it were an injury to himself. Envy is like the ocean, which because it cannot shine as the firmament does, would shroud the starry lustre of the latter with its vapoury exhalations. Nay, in order to enjoy the glimmer of its own rushlight, it would extinguish the sun and leave the world in darkness.

III. Charity is a meek and gentle spirit; envy is as outrageous as it is malicious. It is “cruel as death and insatiable as the grave.” There is in its hate an inhuman fierceness, in its action a diabolical fury, which respect no dignity, reverence no sanctity, pause abashed at no splendid array of virtue. What slew Caesar, and banished Cicero and put out the eyes of Belisarius, but a merit too great for wealth to reward or envy to endure? Envy murdered Abel at his altar, and nailed the Son of God upon the Cross. Envy first blighted the bloom of paradise, and ever since it has raged through the scene of its ruin, filling the earth with dire confusion, and every evil work; and well saith the wisest of ancient monarchs, “Wrath is cruel, and anger is outrageous, but who can stand before envy?”

IV. Charity is ready unto every good work; envy is mischievous. There is no injury it would not inflict upon its happier neighbour. It would poison your peace and blacken your fame. Who shall set bounds to its wickedness, or limit its baleful power? Has it not rifled the richest treasuries, thwarted the shrewdest policies, conquered the mightiest warriors, and subverted the proudest thrones? If there is any exemption from the inflictions of envy, it is only in the case of those who have nothing for which they can be envied, whose obscurity is their fortress, whose poverty is their panoply. The tornado may spare the willows, but woe to the oaks! Never pitying, never relenting, envy follows its victim to the very grave, and tramples upon his ashes, and desecrates his memory, and persecutes his posterity.

V. Charity is free from deceit; envy is hypocritical. Pride, anger, gluttony, drunkenness, etc., are ordinarily frank and open. But envy, conscious that it is an unnatural disposition, having more the rancour of a fiend than the temper of a man, and branded by common consent with a stigma deep and foul, conceals its real nature. As Bishop Ball says, “It is indeed a most reputable and orthodox vice, a regular church-going sin, dressing like virtue and talking like piety. It has a great zeal for religion, a keen sense of public justice, and is much shocked at the inconsistencies of good people. It exults when the hypocrite is unmasked and exclaims--‘Ah! I told you so; I always suspected him.’ It is also most benevolent; and when adversity overtakes a brother, prays devoutly that it may be the means of promoting his humility and other Christian graces.”

VI. Charity is fraught with Divine peace and contentment; envy is miserable. Hating and hated, can it know anything of a good conscience and a cheerful mind? Deceitful and treacherous, must it not be like the troubled sea that cannot rest? Baffled and chagrined, will it not become desperate, and turn its fangs upon itself, and devour its own vitals? Conclusion: Charity and envy are as much opposed as light and darkness. Charity is from above; envy is from beneath. Charity is the fruit of the Spirit; envy is the work of the flesh. Charity is the outgrowth of the new heart; envy is the product of the carnal mind. Charity is as pure as the mountain stream; envy is as foul as the city sewer. Charity is as harmless as the gentle dove; envy is as deadly as the viper’s fang. Charity is as tranquil as the summer evening; envy is as restless as the troubled sea. Charity is as tender and pitiful as an angel; envy is as heartless and cruel as a demon. Charity is the spirit of Christ and the temper of heaven, envy is the rankling selfishness which makes the immitigable woe of the lost, the wormwood and gall transfused through all the faculties and feelings of a reprobate immortality. No two principles could be more antagonistic and irreconcilable. (J. Cross, D.D.)

Charity inconsistent with an envious spirit

I. The nature of envy.

1. A spirit of dissatisfaction with, and opposition to, the prosperity and happiness of others as compared with our own (Esther 5:13; Nombres 11:29; Genèse 37:11).

2. A dislike of their persons for it (Esther 5:9; Genèse 37:4).

II. Wherein a Christian spirit is the opposite of such a spirit. A Christian spirit--

1. Disallows of the exercise and expressions of such a spirit.

2. Tends to mortify its principle and disposition in the heart (Philippiens 4:11).

3. Disposes us to rejoice in the prosperity of others (Romains 12:15).

III. Why it is that a Christian spirit is thus the opposite of a spirit of envy.

1. A spirit and practice entirely contrary to an envious spirit is much insisted on in the precepts of Christ and His apostles (Romains 13:13; 1Co 3:3; 2 Corinthiens 12:20; Galates 5:21, etc.).

2. These precepts are strongly enforced--

(1) By the Christian scheme of doctrine. For there we are told how God has not begrudged us His well-beloved Son, nor the highest honour and blessedness in and through Him. How far Christ was from begruding us anything that He could do for or give us!

(2) By its history. And particularly is this true of the history of the life of Christ, and the example He has set us.

3. The true spirit of Christian love will dispose us to yield to the authority of these precepts, and to the influence of the motives enforcing them.

(1) By its own immediate tendency; for love does not grudge, but rejoices at the good of those who are loved.

(2) By inclining us to humility. It is pride that is the great root and source of envy.

Conclusion: The subject--

1. Should lead us to examine ourselves, whether we are in any degree under the influence of an envious spirit.

2. Exhorts us to disallow and put away everything approaching to it. (J. Edwards.)

On envy

Envy is a sensation of uneasiness arising from the advantages which others are supposed to possess above us, accompanied with malignity towards those who possess them. The character of an envious man is universally odious. All disclaim it; and they who feel themselves under the influence of this passion carefully conceal it. But it is proper to consider that among all our passions, both good and bad, there are many different gradations. Sometimes they swim on the surface of the mind, without producing any internal agitation. They proceed no farther than the beginnings of passion. Allayed by our constitution, or tempered by the mixture of other dispositions, they exert no considerable influence on the temper. Though the character in which envy forms the ruling passion be one too odious to be common, yet some tincture of this evil disposition mixes with most characters in the world. The chief grounds of envy may be reduced to three.

I. Accomplishments, or endowments of the mind. The chief endowment for which man deserves to be valued is virtue. This forms the most estimable distinction among mankind. Yet this, which may appear surprising, never forms any ground of envy. No man is envied for being more just, more generous, more patient, or forgiving than others. This may, in part, be owing to virtue producing in every one who beholds it that high degree of respect which extinguishes envy. But probably it is more owing to the good opinion which every one entertains of his own moral qualities. Some virtues, or at least the seeds of them, he finds within his breast. Others he vainly attributes to himself. Those in which he is plainly deficient he undervalues; on the whole he is as worthy as his neighbour. The case is different with regard to those mental abilities and powers which are ascribed to others. As long as these are exerted in a sphere of action remote from ours, and not brought into competition with talents of the same kind, to which we have pretensions, they create no jealousy. They are viewed as distant objects, in which we have not any concern. Even then, envy is, properly speaking, not grounded on the talents of others. For here, too, our self-complacency brings us relief; from the persuasion that, were we thoroughly known, and full justice done to us, our abilities would be found not inferior to those of our rivals. What properly occasions envy, is the fruit of the accomplishments of others; the pre-eminence which the opinion of the world bestows, or which we dread it will bestow, on their talents above ours. Mere rivality, inspired by emulation, would carry no reproach; were not that rivality joined with obliquity, and a malignant spirit; did it not lead to secret detraction, and unfair methods of diminishing the reputation of others. Let such as are addicted to this infirmity consider how much they degrade themselves. Superior merit of any kind always rests on itself. Conscious of what it deserves, it disdains low competitions and jealousies. They who are stung with envy, especially when they allow its malignity to appear, confess a sense of their own inferiority; and, in effect, pay homage to that merit from which they endeavour to detract. But in order to eradicate the passion, and to cure the disquiet which it creates, let such persons further consider how inconsiderable the advantage is which their rivals have gained by any superiority over them. They whom you envy are themselves inferior to others who follow the same pursuits. Public applause is the most fluctuating and uncertain of all rewards. Within what narrow bounds is their fame confined? With what a number of humiliations is it mixed? To how many are they absolutely unknown? Among those who know them, how many censure and decry them?

II. Advantages of fortune, superiority in birth, rank, and riches, even qualifications of body and form, become grounds of envy. Among external advantages those which relate to the body ought certainly to hold the lowest place, as in the acquisition of them we can claim no merit, but must ascribe them entirely to the gift of nature. Yet envy has often showed itself here in full malignity. It would have proved a blessing to multitudes to have wanted those advantages for which they are envied. How frequently has beauty betrayed the possessors of it into many a snare, and brought upon them many a disaster? Short-lived at the best, and trifling at any rate, in comparison with the higher and more lasting beauties of the mind. But of all the grounds of envy among men superiority in rank and fortune is the most general. Hence the malignity which the poor commonly bear to the rich, as ingrossing to themselves all the comforts of life. Alas! all this envious disquietude which agitates the world, arises from a deceitful figure which imposes upon the public view. False colours are hung out: the real state of men is not what it seems to be. The order of society requires a distinction of ranks to take place; but, in point of happiness, all men come much nearer to equality than is commonly imagined. The poor man possesses not, it is true, some of the conveniences and pleasures of the rich; but, in return, he is free from many embarrassments to which they are subject. When you think of the enjoyments you want, think also of the troubles from which you are free. Often, did you know the whole, you would be inclined to pity the state of those whom you now envy.

III. Superior success in the course of worldly pursuits is a frequent ground of envy. Among all ranks of men competitions arise. Wherever any favourite object is pursued in common, jealousies seldom fail to take place among those who are equally desirous of attaining it. “I could easily bear,” says one, “that some others should be more famous, should be richer than I. It is but just that this man should enjoy the distinction to which his splendid abilities have raised him. It is natural for that man to command the respect to which he is entitled by his birth or his rank. But when I and another have started in the race of life, upon equal terms, and in the same rank, that he, without any pretension to uncommon merit, should have suddenly so far outstripped me; should have engrossed all that public favour to which I am no less entitled than he;--this is what I cannot bear; my spirit swells with indignation at this undeserved treatment I have suffered from the world.” Complaints of this nature are often made by them who seek to justify the envy which they bear to their more prosperous neighbours. But if such persons wish not to be thought unjust, let me desire them to inquire whether they have been altogether fair in the comparison they have made of their own merit with that of their rivals? and whether they have not themselves to blame more than the world for being left behind in the career of fortune? The world is not always blind or unjust in conferring its favours. Supposing, however, the world to have been unjust with regard to you, this will not vindicate malignity and envy towards a more prosperous competitor. You may accuse the world, but what reason have you to bear ill-will to him? You, perhaps, preferred the enjoyment of your ease to the stirs of a busy or to the cares of a thoughtful life. Ought you then to complain if the more laborious have acquired what you were negligent to gain? Consider that if you have obtained less preferment you have possessed more indulgence and ease. The causes that nourish envy are principally two, and two which, very frequently, operate in conjunction: these are pride and indolence. The connection of pride with envy is obvious and direct. The high value which the proud set on their own merit, the unreasonable claims which they form on the world are perpetual sources, first of discontent, and next of envy. When indolence is joined to pride the disease of the mind becomes more inveterate and incurable. Pride leads men to claim more than they deserve. Indolence prevents them from obtaining what they might justly claim. Disappointments follow; and spleen, malignity, and envy rage within them. As, therefore, we value our virtue or our peace, let us guard against these two evil dispositions of mind. Let us be modest in our esteem, and by diligence study to acquire the esteem of others. So shall we shut up the avenues that lead to many a bad passion, and shall learn, in whatsoever state we are, therewith to be content. Finally, in order to subdue envy, let us bring often into view those religious considerations which regard us particularly as Christians. Let us remember how unworthy we are in the sight of God; and how much the blessings which each of us enjoy are beyond what we deserve. Let us nourish reverence and submission to that Divine government which has appointed to every one such a condition in the world as is fittest for them to possess. (H. Blair, D.D.)

Charity not envious

Envy is one of the most malignant and, if we except vanity alone, the most empty of all human passions. Other affections have some good thing in view either real or apprehended; but envy has nothing for its object except an ill-natured pleasure in the hurt of our neighbour. Charity is quite inconsistent with envy, and, whenever it prevails, expels that malicious passion from the heart. Has God bestowed on others larger measures of knowledge and understanding, of honour and respect, of riches, of power and authority, of any blessing, spiritual or temporal? The charitable man, though eclipsed in these respects, does not look up to those who eclipse him with an envious eye. He takes not an ill-natured pleasure in the disappointments and misfortunes, in the decline and fall of those above him He does not attempt, by malicious detraction, to depreciate the merits of those who excel; and, though unable to rise to their standard, he does not enviously endeavour to bring them down to his own, and to keep all mankind on a level with himself He considers worldly blessings as the gifts of God, who may bestow them on what persons and in what degrees He pleases; and, satisfied with his own condition, he rejoices to see the glory of the giver advanced and the ends of the gift answered, who ever may be chosen by Providence for the accomplishment of these ends. (A. Donnan.)

Charity vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up.--

Love vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up

I. The evils indicated.

1. Assumption.

2. Vanity.

II. Their offensiveness. They imply--

1. Contempt for.

2. Disregard of the feelings and claims of others.

III. Their consequent inconsistency with love. Love--

1. Is humble in spirit and deportment.

2. Willingly offends none. (J. Lyth, D.D.)

Charity vaunteth not itself

“It was my custom in my youth,” says a celebrated Persian writer, “to rise from my sleep, to watch, pray, and read the Koran. One night as I was thus engaged, my father, a man of practised virtues, awoke. ‘Behold!’ said I to him, ‘thy other children are lost in irreligious slumbers, while I alone wake to praise God.’ ‘Son of my soul,’ said he, ‘it is better to sleep than to wake to remark the faults of thy brethren.’” (Family Circle.)

Vaunting inconsistent with love

We think we need not love God less, nor our neighbourless, by a little harmless talking of ourselves. But we do. We rob God, because in vaunting we forget that it all comes from Him, and we cannot possibly have anything whatever to vaunt or to boast of. We rob our neighbour because, unconsciously perhaps, we put him in a lower position than ourselves, and look down upon him, or we may make him envious of us. And we rob ourselves, because we deprive ourselves of the reward of any good we may have done. The grace of charity is deprived of its bloom, or indeed of its fruit, by vaunting or boasting. (J. B. Wilkinson, M.A.)

Diffidence of love

Of all feelings, there is none of which men need be so little ashamed of as true love, and none which so much puts on all the appearance of shame. For love is born behind blushing defences. And after it has won its victories and subdued to itself the whole of life, it then more than ever has in it the necessity of hiding itself. For love, like the blood in the human body, though it be the cause of all the life that appears, is itself hidden within the veins and never seen. (H. W. Beecher.)

Charity not proud

To vaunt is to boast, to make an ostentatious display of our own qualities or achievements, it is the language of pride.

I. the nature of pride.

1. It is not to be confounded with that courtly demeanour which is so natural to some people, and so suitable to certain ranks in society. This is the use of our dignity, not the abuse of it.

2. It is an over-valuing of self. Was there ever a time when this hateful vice was more prevalent than it is at present? Does not the age vaunt its enlightenment and its progress? Do not persons of all classes vaunt their superiority in one respect or another? There is a pride of birth, of wealth, of power, of knowledge, of morality, and even of humility.

II. The repugnance of such a spirit to charity. Charity is unselfish; pride is one of the many forms of selfishness. Charity yields to its neighbour due honour; pride claims all respect and honour for its own dignity. Charity accords to every man his proper place and merit; pride aims to impress its brother with a mortifying sense of his inferiority. Charity tenderly regards your sensibilities, and carefully avoids giving you offence; pride tramples upon all courtesy, and cares not whom nor how deeply it wounds. Charity sheds a benign influence over the heart, expanding it to all that is noble and magnanimous; pride folds the soul in upon itself, freezing up the genial springs of sympathy and affection. Charity is the spirit of those who veil their faces before the throne of God, and the temper of Him who for our sake humbled Himself to the death of the Cross; pride is the spirit of rebellion which of old, seeking to exalt itself against the God of love, plunged headlong into hell. Charity knows something of angelic blessedness; pride shares the misery of Satan. (J. Cross, D.D.)

The spirit of charity an humble spirit

As, on the one hand, it prevents us from envying others what they possess, so, on the other, it keeps us from glorying in what we possess ourselves.

I. What humility is.

1. A sense of our own comparative meanness.

(1) As regards God (Genèse 18:27).

(2) As regards our fellow-creatures. Man is very mean as compared with multitudes of a superior rank in the universe, and most men are mean in comparison with many of their fellow men. He that has a right sense and estimate of himself in comparison with God, will be likely to have his eyes open to see himself aright in all respects. All this would apply to men considered as unfallen beings. But humility in fallen men implies a sense of a tenfold meanness.

(a) Man’s natural meanness consists in his being infinitely below God in natural perfection, and in God’s being infinitely above him in greatness, power, wisdom, majesty, etc.

(b) The truly humble man, since the fall, is also sensible of his moral meanness and vileness (Ésaïe 6:5; Job 42:5; Psaume 51:17; Ésaïe 57:15; Matthieu 5:3).

2. A disposition to a corresponding behaviour and conduct. Without this there is no true humility. The devils and damned spirits see much of their comparative littleness before God in some respects. Note--

(1) Some things in our behaviour toward God to which humility will dispose us.

(a) To acknowledge our meanness or littleness before God.

(b) To be distrustful of ourselves and to depend only on God.

(c) To renounce all the glory of the good we have or do, and to give it all to God (Psaume 115:1).

(d) Wholly to subject ourselves to God.

(2) It disposes to a behaviour toward men answerable to our comparative meanness. It tends--

(a) To prevent an aspiring and ambitious behaviour amongst men (Jérémie 45:5; Romains 12:16).

(b) An ostentatious behaviour (Matthieu 23:5).

(c) An arrogant and assuming behaviour (Philippiens 2:3; Éphésiens 3:8).

(d) A scornful behaviour (Romains 12:16).

(e) A wilful and stubborn behaviour (Rom 12:19; 1 Corinthiens 6:7; Matthieu 5:40).

(f) A levelling behaviour (Romains 13:7; Tite 3:1).

(g) A self-justifying behaviour (Jaques 5:16; Psaume 141:5).

II. The spirit of charity is an humble spirit.

1. It implies and tends to humility.

(1) It implies humility. And this appears plain from two considerations: because a sense of the loveliness of God is peculiarly that discovery of God that works humility; and because, when God is truly loved, He is loved as an infinite superior.

(2) It also tends to humility.

(a) Love inclines the heart to that spirit and behaviour that are becoming the distance from the beloved. The devils know their distance from God, but they are not reconciled to it. And so love to man, arising from love to God, disposes to an humble behaviour toward them, inclining us to give them all the honour and respect that are their due.

(b) Love to God tends to an abhorrence of sin against God, and so to our being humbled before Him for it.

2. It tends to draw forth such exercises of love as do especially imply and tend to it. The gospel leads us--

(1) To love God as an infinitely condescending God

(2) To love Christ as an humble person (Philippiens 2:6; Matthieu 10:24; Matthieu 10:25; Matthieu 20:25; Jean 13:13).

(3) To love Christ as a crucified Saviour.

(4) To humble exercises of love, because it leads us to love Christ as one that was crucified for our sakes.

Conclusion:

1. Note the excellency of a Christian spirit (Proverbes 12:26; 1 Pierre 3:4).

2. Examine yourselves, and see if you are indeed of an humble spirit (Habacuc 2:4; Jaques 4:6).

3. Let strangers to the grace of God seek that grace, that they may thus attain to this spirit of humility (Proverbes 16:5; Proverbes 6:16; Proverbes 29:23; 2 Samuel 22:28; Ésaïe 23:9).

4. Let all be exhorted earnestly to seek much of an humble spirit, and to endeavour to be humble in all their behaviour toward God and men. (Jon. Edwards.)

Charity not vain

Charity endeavours to conceal its good works as the sea conceals its pearls and the earth its gold. It is not the ambitious sunflower that lifts its gaudy head on high, and expands its inodorous petals to the broad light of the noon; but the unobtrusive violet that hides its delicate beauty in the bank of a shady brook, and from its green seclusion perfumes the dewy twilight. Intent only on doing good, it cares nothing for the applause of the world, and seeks to build no temple to its own fame. Aming only at blessing others, it is comparatively a small matter whether it win another’s blessing or incur another’s curse. It sends no herald to announce its advent, blows no trumpet to proclaim its purpose, unfurls no banner to catch the eye of the world, saith to no son of Rechab, “Come with me and see my zeal for the Lord”; but, like its Divine example, goes about doing good, without causing its voice to be heard in the street, or letting the left hand know what the right hand doeth; and like those holy and blessed creatures who minister to the heirs of salvation and shed a thousand blessings from wings unseen, it conceals its beneficent agency even from its beneficiaries. King Hezekiah lost his royal treasures by an ostentatious display of them to the Assyrian embassy; and Chrysostom tells us that virtues, like precious stones, must be concealed to be kept; for if we display them publicly, we lose them, and vain-glory is the one thief that has robbed many of their treasure laid up in heaven. But this celestial visitant in the abodes of men carries her jewels in a safe casket--hides them in her own heart, while she herself lies hidden in the secret place of the Most High, and abides secure under the shadow of the Almighty. (J. Cross, D.D.)

Charity opposed to vanity and pride

The Siamese Twins seem to have been two perfect human beings, each possessing all the functions of life complete, though so bound together that the sundering of the ligament would probably have been fatal to both.

I. Thus pride and vanity are two vices so closely related that they are seldom found apart, yet so distinct that we ordinarily have no difficulty in their identification and discrimination. Like two plants springing from the same root, they are both the products of selfishness, alike partaking of its qualities, but differing in form and aspect. Pride is an undue estimate of self; vanity is an inordinate desire of the esteem of others. The former makes a man odious; the latter renders him ridiculous.

II. Charity is equally opposed to both. Humble, it is opposed to pride; modest, it is opposed to vanity. Humility and modesty, though as intimately related to each other, are as perfectly distinct as pride and vanity. Humility is opposed to pride, modesty is opposed to vanity. The former is the inward feeling of lowliness, the latter is its outward expression. The one makes a man sensible that he merits but little, the other renders him moderate in his demands and expectations. Both, therefore, are essential attributes of charity. Notwithstanding their distinction, it is difficult to separate them; for they run into each other, like the blending of two shades in painting, or two tones in music. (J. Cross, D.D.)

Charity not boastful

Charity does not boast of its connections, and talk of the dignity of its family, the lustre of its ancestors, the fortune and rank of its relations, and its intercourse with the great; as little does it magnify itself on account of its external possessions, and set forth in lofty terms its own riches, its credit and interest among men, its power and authority over others. Neither does it vaunt of its personal accomplishments and exalt itself above those whom it seems to excel in point of learning and knowledge, of wit and courage, of dexterity and address, or of beauty and strength. It does not even boast of its own good deeds, and take undue praise to itself from the things it has done and the actions it has performed. In every ease charity forbids us to seek our own gratification in the diminution of that of our neighbour whom we should love as ourselves. It modestly declines to talk concerning itself, and avoids every subject in conversation which tends to elevate its own merit, and to place that of another in an inferior point of view. (A. Donnan.)

Doth not behave itself unseemly.--

Love doth not behave itself, unseemly

I. The conduct it avoids.

1. Ill mannered.

2. Reproachful.

3. Unbecoming age, station, and place.

II. The conduct it observes.

1. It honours all men.

2. Seeks to please all.

3. Specially regarding the civilities of life; treating superiors with respect and inferiors with consideration. (J. Lyth, D.D.)

Unseemliness

is acting contrary to a scheme to form which is becoming, or due, or right. It is, in fact, to be deformed; for there is a deformity of mind as well as a deformity of body: and just as deformity may affect various members of the body, so also may it affect various qualities of the mind or soul. Hence we get an enormous range for this word unseemliness. Beauty is the very-type or attribute of God’s creation. All things, as they originally left the Creator’s hand, were beautiful, being “very good.” All things were “seemly” and “comely.” Sin alone marred their fair proportion, and their seemliness and comeliness. Sin alone introduced deformity and undue proportion. Man was created “seemly” in the image of God. The impress of God’s love was upon the soul of man. God is love--charity. So love is not, and cannot, and doth not, behave itself “unseemly,” unlike the image upon which it was formed or fashioned. (J. B. Wilkinson, M.A.)

The seemliness of the charity of Christ

What dignity and yet what condescension! what perfect self-possession and yet what abandonment of self! what purity, what modesty, what retiredness! what humility in the King of heaven, without any loss of dignity, making fishermen His companions and intimate friends! He eats with the Pharisee, and yet is a guest of publicans and sinners! He is left alone with the woman taken in adultery and pardons her. He welcomes the Magdalen and forgives her. He converses with the woman of Samaria, to the astonishment of His disciples. He despises none. He hides not His face from shame and spitting. He gives His back to the smiters in the flagellation or scourging. He dies the shameful death of the Cross! and in all that unseemliness Divine charity is most seemly, most dignified, most attractive, most loving, most charitable. Yes, in His person, the person of very charity herself. (J. B. Wilkinson, M.A.)

Pleasant behaviour

Accurate fitting of the parts of a machine is not all that is needed. Oil is required. Our life functions bring us together. Something is needed to make all work smoothly. Good manners, courtesy, pleasant behaviour is this oil which is needed. Some say: What have we to do with good manners between master and workmen? Every creaking bearing in the social machine means loss of power. All heating and friction must be avoided. “Fair words butter no parsnips,” is an old adage. But they do much in a shop where the assistants are attentive and obliging. Customers will he more likely to come. So in all things. The faculty of mastership is largely behaviour. The man on a committee who is courteous is worth two who are not. Courteous manners and fair words, if they do not put money in the pocket, sweeten life and make it more endurable. (Brooke Herford.)

Charity not uncourteous

Of unseemliness there are many varieties, alike the fruit of selfishness, and equally alien to charity, which is the most effectual conservator of good manners. There is--

I. A forward and officious behaviour. But charity is never meddlesome. It is pride and vanity that makes men “busybodies in other men’s matters.”

II. An uncivil and disrespectful behaviour. Who has not met with those who affect what they call honest bluntness, who feel above all conventional forms, and care not how many they disgust by their brusquery? Charity, however, considers the tastes and customs of society, and restrains from all that is offensive to the best culture? Christian love produces the most genuine politeness, and the best Christian is the most perfect gentleman or lady.

III. An invidious emulation and ambition. But charity, content with her own position, caring little for the honours of the world, practically heeds the words of her Divine Master--“Whosoever will be great among you, let him be your minister,” etc.

IV. A noisy and blustering ostentation. Nothing is farther from charity than display. If gifted, she exhibits no anxiety to impress the world with the superiority of her endowment. If she achieves anything for the improvement of humanity, she is influenced by no desire to be applauded of men. If she has cast her spiritual sounding-line into the deep things of God, she still owns with him who was not a whit behind the very chiefest of the apostles, “I am less than the least of all saints.”

V. An arrogant and supercilious deportment. But charity, minding not high things, condescends to men of low estate. The disciple of the lowly Man of Nazareth, without desiring to destroy the just distinctions of social life, conceals his rank so far as duty will permit, and unites his advantages with such affability and gentleness as shall render them attractive to all.

VI. An obstinate and imperious will. Some people are always setting up their own judgment as the standard, and their own decision as the law. On the contrary, he who is under the influence of charity yields gracefully to the opinions and preferences of his brethren, except where such compliance involves some dereliction of truth and duty.

VII. An unseemly self-confidence and self-reliance. Charity looks to a higher wisdom for guidance and a higher power for strength; and feels itself, in the presence of God, as less than nothing and vanity.

VIII. An unseemly haste and impetuosity of spirit, which it is the tendency of charity to moderate, and one of its chief offices to control. How often, from this very infirmity, did St. Peter subject himself to mortifying rebuke and bitter sorrow!

IX. An unseemly inconsistency and incongruity of deportment, a want of harmony between the manners and the profession of the Christian. Charity in the heart is the temper of Christ. Charity in the action is the imitation of Christ. Charity in the character is Christ’s unmistakable image. Now what ought that man to be who professes to furnish to the world a miniature likeness of the Incarnate Perfection? Verily, he should be harmless and blameless, holy in all manner of conversation. (J. Cross, D.D.)

Charity doth not behave itself unseemly

It inspires a disposition to please, and leads to that propriety of conduct which is so beautiful in itself and so acceptable to mankind. It is always unwilling to give offence, and leads us studiously to avoid, both in conduct and speech, whatever may seem unbecoming in ourselves and offensive to others. It introduces civility into conversation, and guards against that harshness and indelicacy of expression which are inconsistent with good manners, and hurt the feelings of mankind. It restrains a petulant disposition of mind, and permits not men to take freedoms which are impertinent and disrespectful to those around them. It checks that spirit of arrogance and ambition which breaks in upon the peace of society and the happiness of mankind. Charity does not arrogate to itself more honour and respect than is justly due to its rank, and necessary to the order of society. It avoids giving offence by standing on little points of honour, and insisting on precedency from a conceit of superior station or distinguished ability, nor does it thrust itself into offices above its ability and beyond its sphere, to the subversion of order and the hurt of society. In every situation and under all circumstances of life, charity guards against improper behaviour, and allows not men to act in a manner unbecoming the station they hold, the abilities they possess, or the period of life they are in. (A. Donnan.)

Seeketh not her own.--

Love seeketh not her own

I. Love is unselfish.

1. Seeketh not her own honour, pleasure, advantage.

2. Inordinately, injuriously, mainly.

II. Is, on the contrary, self-sacrificing.

1. In its endeavours to benefit others.

2. Which is the very essence of love, as exemplified by Christ. (J. Lyth, D.D.)

Love; seeketh not her own

Paul showeth the temper of mind, on account of which “Charity doth not behave herself unseemly.” She “seeketh not her own,” for the beloved she esteems to be all: and to benefit her beloved she doth not so much as count the thing unseemliness. This is friendship, that the lover and the beloved should no longer be two persons divided, but, in a manner, one single person, a thing which nohow takes place except from love. Seek not, therefore, thine own, that thou mayest find thine own: for he that seeks his own, finds not his own. Wherefore also the same St. Paul says, “Let no man seek his own, but every man another’s wealth.” (S. Chrysostom.)

Love seeketh not her own

Like seeks like. Charity seeks charity, or God, who is Love. It cares little or nothing for aught else. It knows that all the rest will come in time. It remembers how it is written, “Seek ye first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things shall be added unto you.” How deadly opposed this true charity is to that cruel, cold, worldly maxim, that “Charity begins at home.” Ah! yes, it forgets that Charity was once homeless, and had not where to lay His head, in order to procure for us an eternal home in the heavenly Fathers mansions. (J. B. Wilkinson, M.A.)

Christ sought not His own

The life of Divine charity, which is the life of Jesus Christ, was a life summed up in one word as a, life of search, a seeking for souls. So ever He sought them, by day and by night, in the crowded streets of the city and in the desert places, on the mountain-side and on the sea-shore, in the house of the Pharisee, as equally as in that of the publican; amongst Gentile kings as amongst Jewish peasants, amongst the rich as amongst the poor, amongst the learned doctors as amongst the ignorant common people, in Bethlehem as at Calvary, in the cradle as on the Cross, at the beginning of His earthly life as at the end of it, at the beginning of His passion as at the end of it, from the nailing on the bitter tree to the last sigh, or the loud cry of His departing spirit. He seeks not His own, He sought no relief for Himself, He prays for His enemies, He prays for His mother, He prays for the beloved disciple, He prays for the thief on the cross; for in seeking them He, by that very fact, interceded for them. And even when He prays for Himself, it is such a prayer as can only be understood by including all. He is forsaken, derelict, left, as it were, the hull of that which had once been a gallant ship, left at the mercy of the waves, and all only that we should not be forsaken. When He thirsts, He thirsts only to be thirsted for. In commending His Spirit to the eternal Father, He commends our spirits and souls to the keeping of that Father’s love. He descends to the lower parts of the earth to proclaim, not His own victory, or He only proclaims it that the good news of the redemption should be proclaimed to the spirits in prison. He rises, as a pledge of our resurrection. He ascends, that we may now in heart and mind ascend, and when the time comes, also our body ascend with Him, be glorified with Him, and with Him continually dwell. (J. B. Wilkinson, M.A.)

Unselfish people

Who are the best loved people in the community? I answer unhesitatingly they are the unselfish. They are those who have drunk deepest of the spirit of Christ. They are those who have the most effectually cut that cursed cancer of self out of their hearts, and filled its place with that love that “seeketh not its own.” This beautiful grace sometimes blooms out in most unexpected places. It was illustrated by the poor lad in the coal-mine when a fatal accident occurred, and a man came down to relieve the sufferers, and the brave boy said to him, “Don’t mind me; Joe Brown is a little lower down, and he’s a’most gone, save him first! There are enough “Joe Browns” who are lower down in poverty, and ignorance, in weakness and in want than we are, and Christianity’s first duty is to save them. It was to save sinners that Jesus died on Calvary. He who stoops the lowest to rescue lost souls will have the highest place in heaven. Will it not be these unselfish spirits who will have John’s place up there on the Saviour’s bosom and will be “the disciples whom Jesus loves”? (T. L. Cuyler.)

Disinterestedness

Here is a little story which tells better than a dictionary can the meaning of the word “disinterestedness.” The late Archdeacon Hare was once, when tutor of Trinity College, Cambridge, giving a lecture, when a cry of “fire” was raised. Away, rushed his pupils, and forming themselves into a line between the building, which was close at hand, and the river, passed buckets from one to another. The tutor, quickly following, found them thus engaged. At the end of the line one youth was standing up to his waist in the river. He was delicate and looked consumptive. “What,” cried Mr. Hare; “you in the water, Sterling; you so liable to take cold!” “Somebody must be in it,” the youth answered; “why not I as well as another?” The spirit of this answer is that of all great and generous doing. Cowardice and coldness, too, say: “Oh, somebody will do it,” and the speaker sits still. He is not the one to do what needs doing. But nobility of character, looking at necessary things, says: “Somebody must do it; why not I!” And the deed is done.

Unselfishness makes happiness

James Freeman Clarke describes in his fragment of autobiography a journey from Massachusetts to Kentucky in the days before the railroad. He noticed, he says, that the tone of a stage coach party often depended upon the temper of a single individual. A cross, ill-natured, complaining fellow would make all the other passengers cross, ill-natured, and complaining. “Once,” he says, “when going through the Cattaraugus woods, where the road was mostly deep mire and there was every temptation to be cross or uncomfortable, one man so enlivened and entertained our party, and was so accommodating and good-natured that we seemed “to be having a pleasant picnic, and the other inmates of the coach took the same tone. I, therefore, found it best for my own sake, as soon as we took our places in the coach for a long journey, to manifest an interest in my fellow passengers, and their comforts; offering, for example, to change places with them if they preferred my seat to their own, and paying them such little attentions as are always agreeable. It happened almost always that the other passengers would follow this lead, and take pains to be civil and accommodating.”

Charity the opposite of a selfish spirit

I. The nature of that selfishness of which charity is the opposite. Observe--

1. That charity is not contrary to all self-love. If Christianity tended to destroy a man’s love to himself and his own happiness, it would tend to destroy the very spirit of humanity. The saints and the angels love their own happiness; otherwise they would not be happy; far what one does not love he cannot enjoy. Nor is it unlawful, for God’s law makes self-love a rule by which our love to others should be regulated (Matthieu 19:19). And the same appears also from the fact that the Scriptures are full of motives which work on self-love.

2. That the selfishness which charity is contrary to, is only an inordinate self-love. This consists--

(1) In its being too great comparatively; either by love to God and to man being too small, as it is in many Christians, or by its being none at all, as is the case with the unregenerate. In some respects, of course, wicked men do not love themselves enough; for they do not love the way of their own happiness; and in this sense it is said of them that they hate themselves, though, in another sense, they love self too much.

(2) In placing that happiness in things that are confined to himself. And when it is said that charity seeketh not her own, we are to understand it of her own private good--good limited to herself (Philippiens 2:21; 2 Timothée 3:2).

II. How charity is contrary to such a spirit.

1. It leads those who possess it to seek not only their own things, but the things of others.

(1) It seeks to please and glorify God (Éphésiens 6:6; 1 Corinthiens 10:31).

(2) It seeks the good of our fellow-creatures (Philippiens 2:4; 1Co 10:24; 1 Corinthiens 10:33; Romains 14:2) for--

(a) It is a sympathising and merciful spirit (Colossiens 3:12; Jaques 3:17; Psaume 37:26). It is--

(b) A liberal spirit (Hébreux 13:16; Galates 6:10).

(c) It disposes a person to be public-spirited. A man of a right spirit is not a man of narrow and private views, but is greatly interested and concerned for the good of the place in which he resides, and the society of which he is a member (Jérémie 29:7; Luc 7:5; Esther 4:16; Romains 9:1). Especially will the spirit of Christian love dispose those that stand in a public capacity, such as that of ministers, and magistrates, and all public officers, to seek the public good.

2. It disposes us, in many cases, to forego and part with our own things, for the sake of others (Actes 21:13; 1 Jean 3:16).

III. Some of the evidence sustaining the doctrine. This appears from--

1. The nature of love in general. It is of a diffusive nature, and espouses the interests of others.

2. The peculiar nature of Christian or Divine love. Though all real love seeks the good of those who are beloved, yet all other love, excepting this, has its foundation, in one sense, in the selfish principle. So it is with the natural affection which parents feel for their children, and with the love which friends have one to another. But as self-love is the offspring of natural principles, so Divine love is the offspring of supernatural principles, for it embraces enemies as well as friends.

3. The nature of this love to God and to man in particular.

(1) From the nature of this love to God. The Scriptures teach that those who truly love God, love Him so as wholly to devote themselves to Him and His service (Marc 12:30).

(2) From the nature of this love to man.

(a) We are required to love our neighbour as ourselves (Lévitique 19:18; Matthieu 22:39).

(b) We are to love others as Christ hath loved us (Jean 13:34). In Jean 15:12 Christ calls it His commandment.

(i) Christ has set His love on His enemies (Romains 5:8; Romains 5:10).

(ii) Such was Christ’s love to us, that He was pleased, in some respects, to look on us as Himself (Matthieu 25:40).

(iii) Such was the love of Christ to us, that He spent Himself for our sakes.

(iv) Christ thus loved us, without any expectation of ever being requited by us for His love.

Conclusion: Let me dissuade all from a selfish spirit and practice, and exhort all to seek that which shall be contrary to it. In addition to the motives already presented, consider--

1. That you are not your own (1 Corinthiens 6:19; 1 Pierre 1:19).

2. That by your very profession as a Christian, you are united to Christ and to your fellow-Christians (Romains 12:5; 1 Corinthiens 12:13).

3. That, in seeking the glory of God and the good of your fellow-creatures, you take the surest way to have God seek your interests and promote your welfare. (Jon. Edwards.)

Christian self-sacrifice

I. Love seeketh not her own.

1. To the injury of others.

2. Regardless of the welfare of others. We are to love our neighbour as ourselves, even blessing those who curse us.

3. Self-sacrifice is involved. A mother shows it, for her children’s sake. Paul for his kinsmen. Christ, for our sakes, became poor.

4. In efforts for the good of others. Love seeketh not her own, as the great end of life and action. This is not the central mainspring--self-worship or the credit which may be gained of men.

II. What does love seek?

1. The glory of God. This is a privilege, a gratification, and not a dreaded task.

2. The welfare of others Charity begins, but does not end, at home.

3. The welfare of Christ’s cause.

III. What does love gain?

1. Her own true honour. Christ, who “emptied Himself,” receives now the adoration of earth and heaven. The unselfish shall hear at last, “Come, ye blessed.”

2. Her own highest blessedness. It is more blessed to give than to receive.

3. Her highest usefulness. Unselfish love is the mightiest of moral forces. Example is powerful, but behind that is the subtle power of character. This is the highest power of the preacher. The same mind which is in Jesus should be in us. (W. W. Woodworth.)

Charity seeketh not her own

Love seeks the happiness of its object, and not mere self-interest. I do not say that all religion is employed about the interest of others. Love for character is a love for that which regards our own interest as well as that of others. Some of the exercises of religion transact with God directly about our own interest, and contemplate God as standing related to our own interest, and consist in those feelings of gratitude, trust, hope, and dependence which have immediate reference to our own interest. I will endeavour to set before you some of the leading attributes of true religion. Its vital principle consists in that love which “seeketh not her own.” Although it has more to do with personal concerns than with the concerns of any other individual, yet so far as the interest of others comes into view, it does, when perfect, love a neighbour as one’s self. It respects all beings that are clearly seen, according to their moral excellence. Of course it delights in the character of God more than in that of all created beings, and it regards his happiness more than theirs. Here, then, you have the picture of a real Christian. His care is more for the honour of God and the interest of His kingdom than for his own happiness. He really loves God better than himself. What a noble and lovely temper is this! How vast the difference between such a man and the sordid wretch who cares not what becomes of God or His kingdom provided he is safe! This will let you into a view of the character of God. Such love fills his heart. His whole heart is fixed on the public good. His own happiness consists in promoting that and in enjoying that. His benevolence therefore hates sin and takes the form of holiness. It was benevolence which founded a moral government, to secure the holy order and happiness of the creation. From this view of the character of God we may discover the different motives which excite the Christian and the hypocrite to love him. The Christian loves him because he is love, and has set his heart on the happiness of the universe. He delights in God’s wisdom and power because it is their nature to contrive and execute glorious purposes for the general happiness. But the selfish man loves God only as a personal friend--because he has done him good, and as he hopes, intends to save him. He loves to meditate on God’s milder attributes, because he regards them as pledges of his salvation. And now he is full of joy and praise and love, and is melted into tears by a sense of God’s mercies to him, and is willing to do many things for his heavenly Friend. But his love is worthless because it is selfish. We may also see from what different motives the Christian and the hypocrite rejoice that God reigns. The Christian rejoices that all things are under the Divine direction, because in this he sees a security that all things will be conducted for the glory of God and the good of His kingdom. The hypocrite rejoices that God reigns, because if his friend has the management of affairs, he trusts it will fare well with him. The view we have taken of the nature of charity will help us to discover the excellent nature of the Divine law. Look again at that amiable man who loves the interest of God’s kingdom better than his own, who pities and relieves the hungry and the naked; whose heart is under this dominion of justice and universal benevolence. Well, this is the model which the law of God has formed. Were the law universally obeyed, it would fill the world with just such characters. It enjoins nothing but love and its fruits. And what does it forbid? Here is a selfish wretch who would burn a house and send a whole family to perdition for the sake of robbing it of a few shillings. Here is another who would demolish the throne of God and bury the universe under its ruins, for the sake of being independent. What a satanical temper is this! Well, this, and nothing but such as this, the Divine law forbids. How clear it is that this law is the friend of the universe! Here again the true character of God comes out to view. This spirit must be in Him or it could not flow forth in His law. We now see how certain it is that a good man will love the Divine law. He has the very temper of the law in his heart, and he sees that the happiness of the universe rests on the principles which the law contains. We may now see from what different motives the Christian and the hypocrite oppose sin. The good man abhors sin as being a transgression of the Divine law, an enemy of God and His kingdom; but the selfish man, having connected together the ideas of sin and misery, resists sin merely as an enemy to himself. We are now prepared to discover how charity will regard the atonement and mediation of Christ. Had it proclaimed that the penalty should never be exeuted, it would have ruined the law, and the Sufferer might better have remained in heaven. But it pronounced exactly the opposite truth. The obedience of Christ likewise honoured the law. Let us now examine the general grounds on which a benevolent man will approve of this way of salvation. He wishes well to the universe, and is prepared to approve of any measure which is conducive to the public happiness. These are some of the ways in which that charity which “seeketh not her own” will act towards God, His government, His law, and towards sin and the gospel. I pray you to bring your religion to this test. If it does not agree with this, cast it from you as a viper that will sting you to death. (E. D. Griffin, D.D.)

Charity the opposite of an angry spirit

I. What is that spirit to which Christian love is the opposite of a wrathful disposition? It is not all anger that Christianity is opposite to (Éphésiens 4:26). Anger may be undue and unsuitable in respect to--

1. Its nature, i.e., when it contains ill-will, or a desire of revenge. We are required by Christ to pray for the prosperity even of our enemies (Matthieu 5:44; Romains 12:14). And so revenge is forbidden (Lévitique 19:18; Romains 12:19; Éphésiens 4:31; Colossiens 3:8).

2. Its occasion, i.e., when it is without any just cause (Matthieu 5:22). And this may be the case--

(1) When there is no fault in its object. Many are of such a proud and peevish disposition, that they will be angry at anything that is troublesome, whether anybody be to blame for it or not. And it is a common thing for persons to be angry with others for their doing well, and that which is only their duty.

(2) When persons are angry upon small and trivial occasions. Some are of such a fretful spirit, that they are put out of humour by every little thing in the family, society, or business, that are no greater faults than they themselves are guilty of every day.

(3) When our spirits are stirred at the faults of others chiefly as they affect ourselves, and not as they are against God. We should never be angry but at sin.

3. Its end. When we are angry--

(1) Without considerately proposing any end to be gained by it.

(2) For any wrong end.

4. Its measure. When it is immoderate--

(1) In degree. Sometimes men’s passions rise so high that they act as if beside themselves.

(2) In its continuance (Ecclésiaste 7:9; Éphésiens 4:26). If a person allows himself long to hold anger towards another, he will quickly come to hate him.

II. How charity is contrary to it.

1. It is directly, and in itself, contrary to all undue anger, for its nature is good-will.

2. All its fruits, as mentioned in the context, are contrary to it. It is contrary to--

(1) Pride, which is one chief cause of undue anger.

(2) To selfishness. Love, or charity, is contrary to anger. It is because men seek their own that they are malicious and revengeful.

Conclusion: Consider how undue anger--

1. Destroys the comfort of him that indulges it.

2. Unfits persons for the duties of religion (Matthieu 5:24).

3. The angry men are spoken of in the Bible as unfit for human society (Proverbes 22:24; Proverbes 29:22). (Jon. Edwards.)

Is not easily provoked.--

Love is not easily provoked

I. The self-command of love. Under passion it is--

1. Cool, not passionate.

2. Calm, not stolid.

3. Patient, not peevish.

4. Serious, not sarcastic.

5. Forgiving, not resentful.

II. The secret of its power--humility, enlightenment, pity for the offender, steadfast reliance on God. (J. Lyth, D.D.)

Charity not easily provoked

After an intimate acquaintance with Archbishop Leighton for many years, and having been with him by night and by day, at home and abroad, in public and private, I must say I never saw him in any temper in which I myself would not wish to be found at death. (Bp. Burnet.)

Charity not easily provoked

St. Remigius, Archbishop of Rheims, foreseeing that a year of famine was approaching, stored up a quantity of grain for the poor of his flock. Some drunkards set fire to his granaries, and the Saint hearing of it, mounted his horse and rode to the spot to save the corn. Finding, however, that the fire had gained too great power, he quietly dismounted, and approaching the fire, stretched out his hands as if to warm himself, observing: “To an old man a fireplace is always acceptable.”

On the government of the temper

To be “not easily provoked,” to be slow in taking offence, and moderate in the expression of resentment--in one word, a good temper seems to be generally reckoned rather among the gifts of nature, the privileges of a happy constitution, than among the possible results of careful self-discipline. We speak of our unhappy temper as if it were something that entirely removed the blame from us, and threw it all upon the peculiar sensitiveness of our frame. The excuse is as absurd as it is mischievous. It is to say, “I have great need of self-control; therefore I will take no care about controlling myself; I have much to acquire of a truly Christian spirit; therefore I need take no pains in studying it.” It is granted that there may be great differences of natural constitution, just as there are great differences of outward situation. A sickly frame may, in itself, be more disposed, than one which has always been healthy, to a fretful and irritable temper. Particular circumstances, also, may expose some to greater vexations than others. But, after all this is granted, the only reasonable conclusion appears to be, that the attempt to govern the temper is more difficult in some cases than in others, not that it is, in any case, impossible. I now proceed to lay down some rules for its government. The first I derive not only from the opinion that a bad temper is nothing else than the strength and waywardness of selfish feelings habitually indulged, but from the connection in which I find the apostle’s description of that good temper which is one characteristic of charity--Charity “seeketh not her own.” Now it appears to me that the reverse of this is pre-eminently true of a bad temper. It is continually seeking its own--its own convenience, ease, comfort, pleasure; and therefore it cannot bear that these things should be forgotten or interrupted.

1. The first rule, therefore, which I would mention for the government of the temper is, guard against the indulgence of a selfish feeling even in your best purposes; beware, even when you think you are entirely occupied with the welfare of others, lest there be some lurking self-will which is seeking to be gratified.

2. Another caution which will frequently be found of use, and particularly in our intercourse with those to whom it is of most consequence that our temper should be gentle and forbearing, is this: avoid raising into undue importance in your own minds the little failings which you may perceive in others, or the trifling disappointments which they may occasion you. How much uneasiness and provocation do we seek, both for ourselves and our friends, if we fret ourselves into anger on an occasion which requires, perhaps, only a gentle word; or if we think it necessary to wear a frown, when every purpose of correction might as well, if not better, be effected by a good-tempered smile.

3. Again, if you wish to follow after that charity which “is not easily provoked,” do not forget, in the opposition or disappointment of which you may feel inclined to complain, to make due allowance for the situation, feelings, or judgments of others; do not forget that these cannot always be expected to be in unison with your own.

4. Another rule for the government of the temper, closely connected with the last, if indeed it can be separated from it, is, always put the best construction on the motives of others, when you do not understand their conduct. Do not let it be your immediate conclusion, that they must have intended to neglect or offend you, that they cannot possibly have a good reason for their behaviour.

5. It will further be a great help to our efforts, as well as our desires, for the government of the temper, if we consider seriously the natural consequences of hasty resentments, angry replies, rebukes impatiently given or impatiently received, muttered discontents, sullen looks, and harsh words. It may safely be asserted that the consequences of these and other varieties in which ill-temper can show itself, are entirely evil. The feelings which accompany them in ourselves, and those which they excite in others, are unprofitable as well as painful. They lessen our own comfort, and tend rather to prevent than to promote the improvement of others. After considering the effects of a bad temper, even when connected with good intentions, we shall be the more disposed to practise another method which may be mentioned, for correcting or guarding against it in ourselves. I have already advised a restraint to be placed upon hasty feelings of anger or dissatisfaction; but we should check the expression of those feelings. If our thoughts are not always in our power, our words and actions and looks may be brought under our command; and, if I mistake not, a command over these will be found no mean help towards obtaining an increase of power over our thoughts and feelings themselves. There are not wanting either reasons or rules for the government of the temper, even when we have serious cause for complaint or censure. Let it be that the language or conduct of another has done us real and great injustice. Is this more than we ought to expect, or to be prepared for bearing, in a world where, among other purposes, we are placed to be exercised by trials of Christian patience? A good temper is the natural and constant homage of a truly religious man to that God whom he believes to be love, and to dwell in those who dwell in love. To confirm us in the resolution of making our religion effectual as a help and a rule in the government of our tempers, we shall do well to consider, frequently, the proofs of its efficacy for such a purpose which we may find in the examples of those who have been remarkable for their meekness and patience. These examples will familiarise us with the fact, that such things have been borne; they will accustom us to consider a patient endurance of them a regular part of our religious duties; they will accustom us to think it the business of a Christian to watch over every weakness to which be knows himself subject. Cherish in your minds a spirit of prayer. The help of religion is best sought in connection with supplication to Him who is the source and end of religion. The calmness and seriousness of reflection are best secured by making the pause allowed for communion with our own wisest thoughts, a pause also for communion with Him who is the giver of wisdom. (A. R. Beard.)

Irritability

1. Provocation is but the calling forth in us, and from us, some emotion, by some external circumstance which in some way or other affects us. It is perhaps the evil from within us, answering to, and going forth to meet the evil from without us. There is probably some dangerous, tender spot in the character or temperament of every one of us which is peculiarly susceptible to provocation. It may vary from time to time. It may shift from one point to another, just as pain sometimes shifts from one member to another. We know also that certain conditions of the atmosphere, or postures of the body, or certain things which affect our senses, affect each of us according to the sensitiveness of any particular sense. So it is with the mind. One thing which one person will bear without the least annoyance will entirely disturb another; or again, certain people will have the peculiar gift of saying, or looking, or having a manner which almost, in spite of ourselves, seems so easily to provoke us, and cause us to be wanting in kindly feeling. There are persons who somehow always contrive to say the right things at the wrong times, or are out of tune with us altogether. When we are in great trouble, they talk trivially; or they console us with just the very things that do not afford us the very least consolation; or when our minds are full of some important business, they detain us with some imaginary trouble of their own, or some story about their neighbour. Our charily, our courtesy, is chafing under it, and at last we are fairly “easily provoked,” and, indeed, if we knew where to draw the line--justly.

2. Much depends, however, by what is meant by the word “provoked” here. The word is such an everyday word, that we can be at no loss to attach a meaning to it in its ordinary sense. When we hear such expressions as “I was provoked beyond endurance,” or even of things which fall out in the order of providence, that favourite expression, “It is so provoking,” when we come to sound, means really neither more nor less than that our mind has, for the time being, lost its equilibrium, and therefore we are so far forth out of charity with God and our neighbour. Of course the range of such an expression is enormous. It may go from a hasty passing phrase to the deadly sin of anger, malice, and all uncharitableness. At any rate, it is the beginning of sin; and, says the wise man, the “beginning of strife is as when one letteth out water”; that is to say, no one knows when or where it will stop.

3. No doubt one common form that this sin takes with us is irritability of temper. We call it sometimes constitutional irritability. We may excuse it in others, but we must not excuse it in ourselves. It can be overcome. It must be overcome, though it cost us twenty-two years’ work, as it is said to have cost a great saint. Charity is not irritable, nor easily irritated, we may translate the text.

4. To show its great danger, and how it may take any one of us at unawares, remember that one hasty word, spoken under provocation, deprived Moses of the possession of the promised land. (J. B. Wilkinson, M.A.)

Irritable temper: unrestrained, and restrained by grace

A quick and fiery temper, easily excited and irritable under small provocations, ought to be regarded as a misfortune and a disadvantage. By such a temper, ungoverned and unchecked, a man may be driven to acts of violence, and even to deeds of blood; partially restrained, it will hurry him into acts of indiscretion, and involve him in controversies and disputes; but let such a temper be brought under the dominion of grace, and it is precisely the temper which creates zeal, which rouses the soul to the gracious self-denyings of noble doing for the sake of God and His truth, to a bold resistance of what is wrong, and an enthusiastic pursuit of what is good. (Dean Hook.)

Thinketh no evil.--

Charity thinketh no evil

I. Suspects no evil.

II. Imputes no evil.

III. Entertains no thought of resentment.

IV. Devises no evil. (J. Lyth, D.D.)

Charity thinketh no evil

As self-love makes us think well of ourselves, so charity makes us think well of our brethren. Judge unkindly it cannot; condemn officiously it never will. Upon everything said or done, it puts the best construction possible in the case. No evil report will it believe without evidence; no test of character will it accept but that which God hath ordained; no follower of Christ will it discard because his views and feelings do not quadrate in all respects with its own. To mere surmise and rumour it will not listen for a moment; and from the malicious whispers of the tale-bearer it averts its ear with a holy disgust. When forced to believe evil of another, it accepts the fact with manifest reluctance, takes no pleasure in reporting it, finds many a palliation for the offence, and spreads its broad mantle over the multitude of sins. To talk of the good of its neighbours is its special delight, to set forth their virtues and commend their worthy deeds. In every opportunity of communicating pleasure it rejoices with unfeigned joy, and with instinctive horror shinks from inflicting needless pain. The counsels of avarice and ambition it opposes with all its might; and by every mild and gracious means at its command counteracts the deadly influence of pride, envy, anger, malice, and revenge. Stemming the torrents of vice and error, it seeks to rescue the perishing and edify the faithful--to make the miserable happy, and the happy happier still. In the closet it originates schemes for blessing humanity, and goes forth into society for their execution. At night it devises deeds of mercy upon its bed, and in the morning rises radiant as the dawn to perform the benevolent purposes with which it sank to rest. (J. A. James.)

Love thinketh no evil

No one is perhaps half as bad as he is represented, and many of the faults and failings of our neighbours exist only in our own disordered minds. If you have a flaw in your window glass, the loveliest view seen through it will be ugly and distorted. So if you have a flaw in your mind, if you look uncharitably, unlovingly at others, you will see nothing but evil in them. So much depends upon our way of looking at things. I have heard of a man who, coming home late one night, complained that he had been followed by an ill-looking person. It turned out that this was his own shadow. (H. J. W. Buxton.)

Thinketh no evil

That was a well-deserved rebuke given by a gentleman, whose wife said of a neighbour, “He is very kind to the poor, but it may be more for the sake of praise than doing good.” To which the husband replied, “Look here, Mary, when you see the hands of our clock always right, you may be sure that there is not much wrong with the inside works.” The tendency to sit in judgment upon each other’s motives is a very common fault, especially among young people. It crops up more frequently n the freedom of home intercourse than anywhere else, consequently that is just in the place where its first manifestations should be nipped in the bud. The charity that “thinketh no evil” is a rare but most desirable possession. (The Brooklet.)

Detraction

1. Each man’s thoughts are a world to himself. We all of us have an interior world to govern, and he is the only king who knows how to rule his thoughts. We are very much influenced by external things, but our true character is found within. It is manufactured in the world of our thoughts, and there we must go to influence it. He whose energy covers his thoughts, covers the whole extent of self.

2. In some degree our thoughts are a more true measure of ourselves than even our actions. Our thoughts are not under the control of human respect. No one knows anything about them. There are thousands of things which we are ashamed to say, or to do, which we are not ashamed to think. It is not easy for our thoughts to be ashamed of themselves. They have no witnesses but God. Religious motives can alone have a jurisdiction over them.

3. If a man habitually has kind thoughts of others, not because he happens to be of an easy-going disposition, but on supernatural motives, that is, as a result of grace, he is not far from being a saint.

4. Kind thoughts imply a great deal of thinking about others. This, in itself, is rare. But they imply also a great deal of thinking about others without the thoughts being judgments of their conduct, or criticisms. This is rarer still. Active-minded people are naturally the most prone to find fault, and such must, therefore, make kind thoughts a defence against self. By sweetening the fountain of their thoughts they will destroy the bitterness of their judgments. But kind thoughts imply a great nearness to, and a close contact with God. Kind thinking is an especial attribute of God, because He is not extreme to mark what is done amiss: “God was in Christ reconciling the world unto Himself, not imputing their trespasses.”

5. Nobody can judge men but God, and we can hardly obtain a higher or more reverent view of God than that which represents Him to us, as judging men with boundless charity.

6. The habit of judging others, that is, of thinking evil, requires a long process to eradicate it. We must concentrate ourselves upon it to keep it in check, and this check is to be found in kind interpretations in suspecting, not evil, but good motives. We must come to esteem very lightly our sharp eye for evil on which we perhaps prided ourselves as cleverness in detecting, or, as we called it, unmasking it. We forget that all this may be, that there is a terrible possibility, or even a probability of its being, a huge uncharitableness. No doubt knowledge of character may be a talent, but it is the hardest talent of all to manage. We are sure to continue to say clever or sharp things as long as we are by way of judging others. Sight is a great blessing, but there are times and places in which it is far more blessed not to see. Of course we are not to grow blind to evil, but we must grow to something higher and something truer than a quickness in detecting or suspecting evil, if we would have anything of that blessed “charity,” that love which “thinketh no evil.”

7. Have we not always found that, on the whole, our kind interpretations were truer than our harsh ones? What mistakes have we not made in judging others? But have they not almost always been on the side of harshness? We have roused, and perhaps given vent to our righteous indignation. All at once the whole matter is explained in some most simple way, and we are lost in astonishment that we should never have thought of it ourselves. On the other hand, how many times in life have we been wrong, when we put a kind construction on the conduct of others?

8. The practice of kind thoughts tells most decidedly on our spiritual life. It leads to great self-denial about our talents and influence.

9. Thinking no evil, that is, thinking kind thoughts, endows us with great facility in spiritual things. It opens and widens the paths of prayers. It enables us to find God easily, because God is Love.

10. Above all, it is one of the main helps to the complete government of the tongue. (J. B. Wilkinson, M.A.)

Charity opposed to censoriousness

I. The nature of censoriousness. It consists of a disposition to think evil with respect to--

1. The state of others. It often shows itself in a disposition to think the worst of those about us, whether they are worldly men or Christians.

2. The qualities of others. It appears in a disposition to overlook their good qualities, or to make very little of them; or to make more of their ill qualities than is just; or to charge them with those ill qualities which they have not.

3. The actions or speech of others. This spirit discovers itself--

(1) In judging them to be guilty of evil actions without any evidence that constrains them to such a judgment (1 Timothée 6:4; Psaume 15:1; Proverbes 17:4).

(2) In a disposition to put the worst constructions on their actions. But here it may be inquired, “Wherein lies the evil of judging ill of others, since it is not true that all judging ill of others is unlawful? And where are the lines to be drawn? “To this I reply, that there are persons appointed on purpose to be judges, in civil societies, and in Churches, and that particular persons, in their private judgments of others, are not obliged to divest themselves of reason, that they may thus judge well of all. And therefore we are not forbidden to judge all persons where there is plain and clear evidence that they are justly chargeable with evil. But the evil of that judging wherein censoriousness consists, lies--

(a) In judging evil of others when evidence does not oblige to it, or in thinking ill of them when the case very well allows of thinking well of them (Proverbes 18:13).

(b) In a well-pleasedness in judging ill of others.

II. How a censorious spirit is contrary to charity.

1. It is contrary to love to our neighbour.

(1) We see that persons are very backward to judge evil of themselves. And, therefore, if they loved their neighbour as themselves, love would have the same tendency with respect to him.

(2) We see that persons are very backward to judge evil of those they love.

(3) We see, also, universally that where hatred and ill-will towards others most prevail, there a censorious spirit most prevails.

2. A censorious spirit manifests a proud spirit. And this, the context declares, is contrary to the spirit of charity.

Conclusion: This subject--

1. Sternly reproves those who commonly take to themselves the liberty of speaking evil of others. How often does the Scripture condemn backbiting and evil-speaking! (Psaume 50:19; Tite 3:1; 1 Pierre 2:1; Psaume 15:3).

2. Warns all against censoriousness, either by thinking or speaking evil of others, as they would be worthy of the name of Christians.

(1) How often, when the truth comes fully out, do things appear far better concerning others than at first we were ready to judge.

(2) How little occasion is there for us to pass our sentence on others. Our great concern is with ourselves (1 Corinthiens 4:5).

(3) God has threatened, that if we are found censoriously judging and condemning others, we shall be condemned ourselves (Romains 2:3). (Jon. Edwards.)

Censoriousness

The character of Aunt Henderson in “Kitty Trevylyan” is a very suggestive and instructive one. Her conversation consisted chiefly in compassionate animadversions upon the infirmities of her neighbours. In this, of course, she was perfectly conscientious, thinking it a matter of much importance that we should observe the follies and errors of others, in order to learn wisdom and prudence from them. Now Aunt Henderson is scarcely an imaginative personage. The world is full of just such people who seem to regard the rest of mankind as a set of defective specimens expressly designed to teach them moral perfection, just as children at school have ungrammatical sentences placed before them to teach them grammar. But I cannot help thinking, with Kitty, that the children may learn more from the correct sentences than from the incorrect, and that it is far more pleasant to have the beautiful right thing before one than the failure; nor can I believe, any more than she, that others are sent into the world to be a sort of example of error and imperfection, even to make Aunt Henderson and other conscientious people of the same kind quite perfect by the contrast. Aunt Henderson and her followers seem to be the very opposite of St. Paul’s charity in this chapter; for they enjoy a sort of selfish gratification in the mistakes and misdoings of their neighbours, and dwell upon them with a malicious self-complacency of which they are scarcely conscious; while it is among the most conspicuous qualities of charity, and by no means the least beautiful of the portraiture, that she “taketh not account of evil” (R.V.). (J. Cross, D.D.)

Censorious judgment

Who is not acquainted with people who are expressing unfavourable opinions of others and, without any apparent concern about the consequences, look upon everybody with suspicion? and a very small circumstance is to them a sufficient indication of insincerity or wickedness. The soundness of your faith they question because you happen to differ with them in some unimportant matter of opinion. Your worship may be as hearty and as spiritual as their own; yet, because you do not conform perfectly to their ritual, you are denounced as a Romaniser or a schismatic. They judge all by their own standard, measure all by their own iron bedstead, and make no account of the modifying influences of education and society. Even the fatherly chastisements of Divine Providence they misinterpret; and, like Job’s miserable comforters, pronounce the metal spurious because it has been submitted to the furnace. If the motive of an act is not perfectly obvious, they are apt to give it a bad construction, though a good one were quite as easy. A general remark is made in company, and some one present thinks it applicable to himself, and forthwith angrily appropriates it, though the speaker had no more thought of him than of Julius Caesar. Absorbed in meditation or conversation, you unconsciously pass an acquaintance in the street without speaking to him, and the casual oversight is set down against you as an intentional incivility. I recollect once to have given lasting offence by failing to recognise on the instant an old friend whom I had not met for many years, though I was never in my life more innocent of unfriendly intention. On another occasion I incurred the displeasure of a lady by my inability to identify her behind a veil, which rendered her face as invisible as the moon in a total eclipse, and the crime I believe was never forgiven. Censorious people commonly see motes in others’ eyes through beams in their own, and none are more to be suspected than those who are always suspecting their neighbours. Their knowledge of human nature is obtained at home, and their fears of you are only the reflected images of their own, evil hearts. They resemble the surly mastiff, that sidles growling toward the mirror, mistaking his own likeness for a foe. Full of evil surmisings, they cannot afford to suspend their judgment and wait for explanation or evidence; blot, impelled by the bad spirit within them, they rush blindly to the bench and thunder forth their anathema against the supposed delinquent. How eagerly they take up an evil report, and how industriously they circulate it! Hearing a vague rumour, than which nothing is more uncertain in such a world as this, they believe without a particle of evidence, and never take the trouble to inquire into the grounds of the suspicion; but roll the delicious slander as a sweet morsel under their tongues, and feed on the imaginary imperfection of their neighbours with the zest of a vulture upon the slain. (J. Cross, D.D.)

Charity thinketh no evil

This is not to say that love is blind to iniquity or slow, on occasion, to reprove it. The most scathing denunciation that ever was heard, “Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites, how shall ye escape the damnation of hell!” fell from the lips of Incarnate Love. But love has nothing in common with a censorious spirit. Love puts the best construction on everything it sees. It thinketh no evil. Let us note some of the reasons why we should, as far as possible, speak well of our fellow-men.

I. It is Christ like. How sympathetic and gracious and helpful He ever was! He had a kind word for the magdalen, a pitying glance for the dying thief.

II. Consider our ignorance. Who are we that we should assume to know what passes in a human breast? How little we understand the conditions, the environment, the sore temptations, of those who fall into sin!

1. Of justice we know little or nothing. Let us leave that to an omniscient God. Our function is with mercy. That falls measurably within our sphere of knowledge, and we are safe to administer it.

III. We work incalculable injury by our uncharitable treatment of others. There are people who would not prick their neighbours with a bodkin, yet do not hesitate, as Swift says, to--

“Convey a libel with a frown,

And wink a reputation down.”

They would not steal a farthing, but rob their neighbours without scruple of that which is better than life. It is related that when the martyr Taylor was dying at the stake one of the bystanders cast a flaming torch which struck his eyes and blinded them “and brake his face that the blood ran down his visage.” This was base, cowardly, brutal beyond words. But it was not more base, more brutal, or more cowardly than to injure a man in his reputation, to put him to an open shame by blackening his honour.

IV. We live in glass houses. We are none of us any better than the law requires, none of us any better than we ought to be. We have all sinned and come short of the Divine glory; and, strange to tell, the faults which we are most prone to criticise in others are those which are most deeply seated in ourselves. Tell me the general drift of a man’s aspersions and I will show you his darling sin. It would be prudent in us all to take advantage of that provision which in courts of justice excuses a witness from testifying against a culprit when to do so would incriminate himself. It takes a rogue to catch a rogue. All captious criticism is in the nature of State’s evidence.

V. We are on our way to judgment. And here we are making the rule which will apply to ourselves at that great day. “Judge not,” said the Master, “that ye be not judged. For with what judgment,” etc. The Moslems say that two spirits are set to guard the actions of every man. At night they fly up to heaven and report to the recording angel. The one says, “He bath wrought this good, O angel! Write it ten times!” The other says, “He hath wrought this evil; but forbear, O angel, yet seven hours, in order that he may repent!” It is true that God delighteth in mercy. But it we want it we must here accord it.

VI. In dealing ungraciously with others we lose the blessed opportunity of kindness. There is no telling “what good may he done by a word of sympathy and helpfulness, one of those “words in due season” which are like apples of gold in pictures of silver. In the prison at New Bedford there is a man serving out a life sentence who some years ago had a strange experience. He had previously been regarded as one of the most desperate and dangerous inmates. He had planned outbreaks and mutinies, and been repeatedly punished in vain. His heart was full of bitterness. But one day in June a party of strangers came to visit the institution, an old man with several ladies and one little girl. It happened that this prisoner had just been assigned for some misdemeanour to the menial task of scrubbing the corridor. The warden, leading the visitors about, saw him, sulky and morose, at the top of the stairway. “Jim,” he called, “come and carry this little girl up.” The convict scowled and hesitated. The little girl at the foot of the stairway held out her arms and said, “If you will, I’ll kiss you.” He looked at her seriously a moment, then slowly came down, and lifting her upon his shoulders as tenderly as any father could have done, carried her to the upper corridor. She raised her face. He gravely stooped and kissed it, then returned to his task. And they say at the New Bedford jail that he has never been the same man since that day. The kindness of that child in some way transformed his life. (D. J. Burrell, D.D.)

On candour

Religion and government are the two great foundations of order and comfort among mankind. Government restrains the crimes which would be subversive of society, secures the property, and defends the lives of its subjects. But the defect of government is, that human laws can extend no farther than to the actions of men. Religion supplies the insufficiency of law by striking at the root of those disorders which occasion so much misery in the world. Its professed scope is to regulate, not actions alone, but the temper and inclinations. By this means it ascends to the sources of conduct. We are led to this reflection by the description given in the context of charity, that great principle in the Christian system. He justly supposes, that, if the temper be duly regulated, propriety of action will follow, and good order take place in external behaviour.

I. Let us consider what this description of charity imports. You will easily perceive that the expression in the text is not to be understood in a sense altogether unlimited; as if there were no occasion on which we are to think unfavourably of others. To view all the actions of men with the same degree of complacency would be contrary both to common understanding and to many express precepts of religion. Religion renders it our duty to abhor that which is evil. The virtue inculcated is that which is known by the name of candour. It is necessary to observe that the true candour is altogether different from that guarded, inoffensive language and that studied openness of behaviour which we so frequently meet with among men of the world. Smiling, very often, is the aspect, and smooth are the words, of those who inwardly are the most ready to think evil of others. That candour which is a Christian virtue consists not in fairness of speech, but in fairness of heart. It may want the blandishment of external courtesy, but supplies its place with generous liberality of sentiment. Its manners are unaffected, and its professions cordial. It is perfectly consistent with extensive knowledge of the world, and with due attention to our own safety. In that various intercourse which we are obliged to carry on with persons of every different character, suspicion, to a certain degree, is a necessary guard. It is only when it exceeds the bounds of prudent caution that it degenerates into vice He makes allowance for the mixture of evil with good, which is to be found in every human character. He expects none to be faultless; and he is unwilling to believe that there is any without some commendable quality. In the midst of many defects he can discover a virtue. Under the influence of personal resentment he can be just to the merit of an enemy. He is not hasty to judge, and he requires full evidence before he will condemn. As long as an action can be ascribed to different motives, he holds it as no mark of sagacity to impute it always to the worst. Where there is just ground for doubt, he keeps his judgment undecided. When he must condemn, he condemns with regret. He listens calmly to the apology of the offender. From one wrong opinion he does not infer the subversion of all sound principles; nor from one bad action conclude that all regard to conscience is overthrown. He commiserates human frailty; and judges of others according to the principles by which he would think it reasonable that they should judge of him. In a word, he views men and actions in the clear sunshine of charity and good-nature, and not in that dark and sullen shade which jealousy and party-spirit throw over all characters.

II. To recommend, by various arguments, this important branch of Christian virtue.

1. Let us begin with observing what a necessary requisite it is to the proper discharge of all the social duties. Accordingly, love, gentleness, meekness, and long-suffering are enumerated as distinguishing fruits of the Spirit of Christ. But it is impossible for such virtues to find place in a breast where the propensity to think evil of others is predominant. Charitable and candid thoughts of men are the necessary introduction to all good-will and kindness. They form, if we may speak so, the only climate in which love can grow up and flourish. A suspicious temper checks in the bud every kind affection. It hardens the heart, and estranges man from man. It connects humanity with piety. For he who is not given to think evil of his fellow-creatures, will not be ready to censure the dispensations of his Creator. Whereas the same turn of mind which renders one jealous and unjust towards men, will incline him to be querulous and impious towards God.

2. In the second place, as a suspicious uncharitable spirit is inconsistent with all social virtue and happiness, so, in itself, it is unreasonable and unjust. In order to form sound opinions concerning characters and actions, two things are especially requisite, information and impartiality. But such as are most forward to decide unfavourably are destitute of both. Instead of possessing, or even requiring, full information, the grounds on which they proceed are frequently the most slight and frivolous. Nothing can be more contrary both to equity and to sound reason than such precipitate judgments. The motives of the actor may have been entirely different from those which you ascribe to him; and, where you suppose him impelled by bad design, he may have been prompted by conscience and mistaken principle. Admitting the action to have been in every view criminal, he may have been hurried into it through inadvertency and surprise. He may have sincerely repented; and the virtuous principle may have now regained its full vigour. No error is more palpable than to look for uniformity from human nature, though it is commonly on the supposition of it that our general conclusions concerning character are formed. Mankind are consistent neither in good nor in evil. In the present state of frailty all is mixed and blended. The strongest contrarieties of piety and hypocrisy, of generosity and avarice, of truth and duplicity, often meet in one character. There are few cases in which we have ground to conclude that all goodness is lost. Placed, then, in a situation of so much uncertainty and darkness, where our knowledge of the hearts and characters of men is so limited, and our judgments concerning them are so apt to err, what a continual call do we receive for candour!

3. In the third place, what the sources are of those severe and uncharitable opinions which we are so ready to form. Were the mind altogether free from prepossession and bias, it might avail itself to more advantage of the scanty knowledge which it possesses. It is one of the misfortunes of our present situation that some of the good dispositions of human nature are apt to betray us into frailties and vices. Thus it often happens that the laudable attachment which we contract to the country or the church to which we belong, or to some political denomination under which we class ourselves, both confines our affections within too narrow a sphere, and gives rise to violent prejudices against such as come under an opposite description. Not contented with being in the right ourselves, we must find all others in the wrong. They rashly extend to every individual the severe opinion which they have unwarrantably conceived of a whole body. Was there ever any great community so corrupt as not to include within it individuals of real worth? Besides prepossessions of this nature, which sometimes mislead the honest mind, there are other, and much more culpable, causes of uncharitable judgment. Pride is hurt and wounded by every excellence in which it can claim no share; and, from eagerness to discover a blemish, rests upon the slightest appearance of one, as a satisfying proof. When rivalry and competition concur with pride, our desire to espy defects increases, and, by consequence, the grounds of censure multiply. Where no opposition of interests takes place, envy has too much influence in warping the judgment of many. A person of low and base mind naturally imputes to others the sentiments which he finds congenial to himself.

4. In the fourth place, that suitable to the sources whence a jealous and suspicious temper proceeds, are the effects which it produces in the world, the crimes and mischiefs with which it fills society. It possesses this unhappy distinction beyond the other failings of the human heart, that while it impels men to violent deeds, it justifies to their own apprehension the excesses which they commit. Amidst the uproar of other bad passions, conscience acts as a restraining power. As soon as the tumult subsides, remorse exerts its influence, and renders the sinner sensible of the evil which he has done. But the uncharitable man is unfortunately set loose from any such check or control. Through the infatuation of prejudice, his judgment is perverted; conscience is misled. The first-fruits of an evilthinking spirit are calumny and detraction, by which society is so often embroiled, and men are set at variance with one another. But, did it proceed no farther than censorious speech, the mischief would be less. Much greater and more serious evils frequently ensue. What direful effects, for instance, have often flowed from rash and ill-founded jealousy in private life! In public life, how often have kingdoms been shaken with all the violence of war and rebellion, from the unjust suspicions which subjects had conceived of their rulers; or the rash jealousy which princes had entertained of their people! But it is in religious dissensions chiefly that the mischievous power of uncharitable prejudice has displayed its full atrocity. Let us attend particularly to one awful instance of the guilt which men may contract, and of the ruin which they may bring upon themselves, through the want of fairness and candour. The nation of the Jews were almost noted for a narrow and uncharitable spirit. When John the Baptist and our blessed Lord appeared among them, because the former was austere in his temper, and retired in his life, they pronounced of him that he had an evil spirit; and because the latter was open and sociable in His manners, they held Him to be destitute of that sanctity which became a prophet. Their prejudice against our Lord took its first rise from a most frivolous and contemptible cause. “Is not this the son of the carpenter? Can any good thing come out of Nazareth?”

5. In the fifth place, as a suspicious spirit is the source of so many crimes and calamities in the world, so it is the spring of certain misery to the person who indulges it. His friends will be few; and small will be his comfort in those whom he possesses. Believing others to be his enemies, he will of course make them such. So numerous and great are the evils arising from a suspicious disposition, that of the two extremes it is more eligible to expose ourselves to occasional disadvantage from thinking too well of others, than to suffer continual misery by thinking always ill of them. It is better to be sometimes imposed upon than never to trust. Safety is purchased at too dear a rate when, in order to secure it, we are obliged to be always clad in armour, and to live in perpetual hostility with our fellows. This is, for the sake of living, to deprive ourselves of the comfort of life. The man of candour enjoys his situation, whatever it is, with cheerfulness and peace.

6. In the sixth place, that there is nothing which exposes men in a more marked and direct manner to the displeasure of the Almighty than a malignant and censorious spirit. I insist not now on the general denunciations of Divine wrath against malice and hatred. Let us only consider under what particular description the Spirit of God brings this crime of uncharitable judgment. It is declared to be an impious invasion of the prerogative of God, to whom alone it belongs to search all hearts, and to determine concerning all characters. On the whole, it clearly appears that no part of the government of temper deserves attention more than to keep our minds pure from uncharitable prejudices, and open to candour and humanity in judging of others. The worst consequences, both to ourselves and to society, follow from the opposite spirit. Let us beware of encouraging a habit of suspicions, by forming too severe and harsh opinions concerning human nature in general. Darkened as the Divine image now is among mankind, it is not wholly effaced. Much piety and goodness may lie hidden in hearts that are unknown to us. Vice is glaring and loud. The crimes of the wicked make a noise in the world, and alarm society. True worth is retired and modest, and requires particular situations to bring it forth to public notice. The aged and the unfortunate, who have toiled through an unsuccessful life with long experience of the falsehood and fraud of evil men, are apt to he the most severe in the opinions which they entertain of others. For such, their circumstances may be allowed to form some degree of apology. (H. Blair, D.D.)

Censorious judgments--their evil effects

As the magicians of Egypt, it is said, imitated Moses and Aaron in turning their rods into serpents, but were not able to turn the serpents again into rods, so a censorious spirit can make an evil thing out of a good, but cannot recover the good again out of the evil. It can make an honest man look like a villain, a sober man like a drunkard, a modest man like a libertine, a devout man like a hypocrite; but what power has it to revive the fair fame it has blasted, and undo the terrible mischief it has done? The poison once poured upon the mind can never be recalled. Your evil surmise is readily received by others as censorious as yourself; your whispered suspicion is taken up by a hundred willing tongues, and confirmed and magnified by a thousand more, till it becomes a common report which no one dares to doubt; but when, convinced of your error and sorry for your imprudence, you wish to retract or modify your statement, you speak to averted ears and minds already prejudiced. The remedy comes too late; the poison has done its work. You have made the serpent; you cannot remake the rod. (H. Blair, D.D.)