GAL. vi. 10.
AS WE HAVE THEREFORE OPPORTUNITY, LET
US DO GOOD UNTO ALL MEN, ESPECIALLY UNTO THEM WHO ARE OF THE
HOUSEHOLD OF FAITH.
The subject proposed for discussion
to-day is thus worded on the printed list: The proportions of
Christian liberality. I have had some difficulty in
determining, whether the inquiry intended to be instituted,
regarded disposition or distribution—whether it should
relate to our temper of mind towards those who differ from us? or
the application of our property to the various claims which are
made upon us? If the first be intended, then the question
will be—how far may we advance in kindliness of heart, and
in the exercise of charity, without yielding our convictions,
sacrificing principle, and countenancing error? A difficult
and delicate point to be settled—in which the dangers of
concession and of separation seem to balance; where the one may
sink into laxity and indifference, the other lead to intolerance
and bigotry.—If the last be principally designed, as I
apprehend it is, then the inquiry will be—as the numerous
and multiplying appeals to religion and humanity cannot all be
alike answered, how shall we best distinguish their respective
merits, and in what proportions should we apply our means, which
must be necessarily limited, to their respective claims?
The text seems applicable to every possible view of the
subject. It unites, what Christian liberality can never
separate—benevolence and beneficence: the heart is to guide
the hand, and Christian prudence is to superintend the
whole. We are to “do good”—We are
to “do good to all men”—We are to pay
particular regard to some—“especially unto
them who are of the household of faith”—We are
to do it “as we have
opportunity”—seizing circumstances, seeking
occasions, estimating our means.—Are not these
“the proportions of Christian
liberality?” “As we have therefore
opportunity, let us do good unto all men, especially unto them
who are of the household of faith.” Having thus
inspired authority for our guide, we shall, perhaps, best
understand the subject, by discussing the terms in which it is
expressed, and submitting them to the test of the text and
it’s connexion.
First, What are we to understand by Liberality?
It’s seat must be in the heart. It is
goodwill to man as a principle, exhibiting itself by corresponding
exertions. This expansion of soul distinguishes the liberal
from the illiberal:—compulsion or interest may lead to a
distribution of property—but “the liberal mind
deviseth liberal things”—it’s bounty flows
spontaneously—the streams are diffused all abroad, but the
spring rises in the bosom—and the largeness of the supply
demonstrates that the fountain is inexhaustible. The heart
of the liberal man is a heart of flesh—it is sensitive, and
can feel—it is soft, and can yield to the touch—it is
tender, and requires not to be pressed. The heart of the
miser is a rock—it may be calcined, but not
softened—it may be consumed, but not melted—the
sunbeam of mercy, and the fire of judgment, fall upon it alike in
vain. His chest, although made of iron, may be broken,
it’s bars and bolts forced, it’s locks
opened—but his heart, never! Every moral malady
proceeds from the heart—and every Christian grace is
enthroned there. Charity is love—and without love,
there is no liberality.
Liberality, when the heart is it’s centre, has the world
for it’s circumference. It’s ample circle
embraces all mankind. The denomination is overlooked
to make room for the species. “Am I not a man, and a
brother?” is the irresistible appeal; and whether it come
from the east or the west, the north or the south, it finds
it’s way to the secret recesses of the soul, and calls into
action all it’s mighty energies. Forgetful of the
lines of political demarcation assigned by princes, and recognised by
nations—regardless of the narrow limits into which a
sectarian spirit has distributed the Christian world—as
indifferent to the colour of the skin, and to diversity of
tongues, as to the shibboleth of a party—unfettered even
“by the bounds of the people,” which “the Most
High set, when he separated the sons of Adam, and divided to the
nations their inheritance”—Christian liberality, on
the wings of love, swift as those of the morning, and strong as
those of the seraph, sweeps over seas and mountains, the depths
of the forest, and the sands of the desert—un-scorched at
the torrid zone, and unfrozen at the poles—to scatter her
blessings over the great Family of Man. “Have we not
all one Father? Hath not one God created us?”
“As we have, therefore, opportunity, let us do good unto
all men, especially unto those who are of the household of
faith.”
Liberality of heart will extend to the purse.
“If a brother or sister be naked and destitute of daily
food, and one of you say unto them, Depart in peace, be you
warmed and filled; notwithstanding ye give them not those things
which are needful to the body; what doth it profit?”
I am not surprised that some religionists should quarrel with the
doctrine of James, and scarcely allow him to be orthodox.
What a melancholy consideration it is, that the purse should
prove so fatal a test, as it frequently does, to professors,
otherwise of good report. They can speak fluently on spiritual
topics—they can distinguish accurately between things that
differ—they settle down firmly upon a sound system, and
resolutely defend it—but when you touch their property, you
discover their idolatry. See that young man retiring, sad
and dissatisfied, from Jesus Christ;—he was moral, just,
amiable, good—what qualities must he not have possessed to
have excited the admiration of the Redeemer! for it is said,
“Jesus, beholding him, loved him.”—Why does he
turn his back upon his Lord, and refuse to follow in his
train? Ah! this touchstone was applied, which his worldly
spirit could not endure! He could pass through all the
forms of external religion—and maintain the beautiful
symmetry of moral character—but he could not part with his
money.
Liberality is evinced in no small degree in
manner. There are delicate touches in the movements
of a feeling heart, which cannot be described. Sorrow
renders the sufferer sensitive; and harshness of deportment
destroys all the value of the gift. The sigh of sympathy,
even where there is nothing more to bestow, is, to him who
suffers, like the alabaster-box of precious ointment which Mary
broke over the head of Jesus—an odour is diffused on every
side—and he is “anointed for his
burial”—he is soothed into resignation, and wafted in
spirit to the world of love, where poverty and tears shall be
unknown. But the proud imperious spirit cannot confer a
benefit—it’s very bounty inflicts an injury—and
its
roughness tears open a wound, which it lacks the skill to
heal. Misery is insulted rather than alleviated—and
the reed bruised by adversity, is broken by unkindness.
Yet—
—“Such is the pitiless part
Some act, by the delicate mind—
Regardless of wringing, or breaking, a heart
Already to sorrow resigned!”
The absence of feeling demonstrates the want of affection; and
we repeat, where this is lacking, there cannot be
liberality. “Be pitiful, be
courteous”—“For all the law is fulfilled in one
word, even in this, Thou shalt love thy neighbour as
thyself”—and we know what tenderness we exercise
towards ourselves, and what sympathy we expect from others:
“As we have therefore opportunity, let us do good unto all
men, especially unto them who are of the household of
faith.”
Secondly, Christian Liberality
ranks higher than the mere emotions of humanity; it is a
spiritual grace stamping the very image of the Deity upon the
benignities of our nature; while it softens whatever is harsh,
enlarges whatever is contracted, extinguishes whatever is unkind,
refines, sublimates, and perfects whatever is amiable—and
this is the subject upon which your attention is engaged.
How beautifully and with what pathos is this principle described,
in itself, and in its active operation, by the Apostle, in the
context!
It
springs from a right source. It is all referable to
a Divine Agent. “The fruit of the Spirit is love,
joy, peace, long-suffering, gentleness, goodness, faith,
meekness, temperance: against such there is no
law”—no sentence of condemnation. This is
Christian liberty—a deliverance from the curse; but it is
not licentiousness—it releases from no moral obligation,
and it requires the active exercise of Christian
liberality. “For, brethren, ye have been called unto
liberty; only use not liberty for an occasion to the flesh, but
by love serve one another.” If “every good
gift, and every perfect gift, is from above, and cometh down from
the Father of Lights, with whom is no variableness, neither
shadow of turning,” how distinctly may we trace all our
kind affections, under the regulation of religious principle, to
that greatest and best of Beings, of whom it is emphatically
said, “God is love.”
The liberality which springs from a right source will be
always governed by a right motive. We seldom err so
entirely as on this great point. Hypocrisy is a wilful
deceiving of others; an unblushing pretension to qualities which
the individual is conscious he does not possess; and regarding
which he is careless—excepting that the assumption of them
subserves some supposed interest. But it is very possible
for a man to deceive himself, who intends to practise no deceit
upon others; and to give himself credit for qualities which he
does not really possess. Christian exertion may meet with
opposition and hostility; but it will also, in the present day, be
encircled with distinction and applauses. Ah! who can be
certain of his motives, when so much intermixture of interest,
influence, and approbation, is found in connexion with the
consecration of our time, our talents, and our property, to
God? It is a solemn inquiry, which we ought closely to put
to our own consciences—Should we be the same persons, if
attachment to the cause of religion (for the subject is
Christian liberality,) subjected us to privations and
persecutions, fines and imprisonments, disgrace and death, as we
now are, when a superiority of exertion in the cause of God and
humanity, commands the esteem of a large proportion of society,
and thus confers a present reward of the most flattering
description? What man can trust his heart on such a point
without incurring the censure of the wisest of
men—“He that trusts his own heart is a
fool?” On what point are we so liable to be deceived
as upon one so intimately associated with our self-love?
Singleness of heart is essential to simplicity of
operation. The Apostle, therefore, fastened upon one
motive—he touched it as the main-spring of whatsoever
things are “true, and honest, and just, and pure, and
lovely, and of good report”—of whatsoever things
declared “virtue,” deserved “praise,” and
were worthy of Christian consideration—of all the
sacrifices which he himself made—of all the labours which
his colleagues achieved—of all the privations which
primitive Christians cheerfully endured—of all the
mighty and unparalleled characteristics of that matchless
age—the “first-born,” the “beginning of
the strength” of Christianity—every motive, every
power, every feeling, reposed in one commanding and irresistible
principle—“The love of Christ constraineth
us”—all human hopes and fears, joys and sorrows,
pleasures and pains, were borne along the bosom of this
irresistible tide of attachment to the Redeemer—and all
earthly considerations were rendered subservient to his
cause.
Liberality springing from a right source, regulated by a right
motive, could not fail to exhibit a corresponding
operation. The principle is accordingly seen in all
it’s beautiful influence—those who feel it’s
power have not “the grace of God in vain”—nor
“the faith of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Lord of glory,
with respect of persons.” They value men according to
their qualities, and not according to their rank; and they are
prepared to produce that “charity which is the bond of
perfectness,” on every occasion which requires it’s
exercise. They will know how to shew candour and brotherly
tenderness—“Brethren, if a man be overtaken in a
fault, ye which are spiritual restore such an one in the spirit
of meekness; considering thyself, lest thou also be
tempted.” They will know how to manifest Christian
sympathy—“Bear ye one another’s burdens, and so
fulfil the law of Christ.” They will know how to
apply their property and their influence—“And let us
not be weary in well-doing; for in due season we shall reap if we
faint not.” I have chosen to borrow the illustration
of this principle, in it’s diversified operation, from the
context—that we may discern the union between the cause and
the effect, and the connexion of both with the passage which I
have selected, as bearing upon the subject of discussion, and as
demanding, and exhibiting, active Christianity.
Christian liberality distinguishes itself by it’s
perpetuity. Man is a capricious being; his views,
his emotions, his affections are perpetually changing.
Persons of quick feelings, and extraordinary sensibility, are
especially fluctuating. Those who have power, and property,
put the question of human instability beyond dispute, by
movements as unpremeditated on their own part, as unexpected by
others. Hence have arisen the melancholy details of changes
connected with humanity—the emptiness of human
trust—the uncertainties of human friendships—all of
which have become common-place topics, that excite but little
attention from their recurrence—or are considered as
ornamental only to moral disquisition—as appropriate to
point a verse or to round a period—until some stroke of
calamity brings the conviction home to the individual—and
then this worn-out truism strikes him with all the force of
novelty—and he complains, as though he had sustained
personally some unexpected and unprecedented injury.
“A double-minded man”—a man of mixed motives,
and of unfixed principles, “is unstable in all his
ways”—but the operation of Christian liberality,
because of it’s source, and it’s motives, cannot
fail.
“This holy fire for ever burneth—
From heaven it came, to heaven returneth.”
Independent of human considerations, it survives them
all—and let us place our generous principles out of the
reach of accident, and out of the controul of our own caprice, by
subordinating them to the unchanging law of our Eternal
Lord—“As we have therefore opportunity, let us do
good unto all men, especially unto them who are of the household
of faith.”
Thirdly, There are MANY CLAIMS
upon Christian liberality—This is supposed by the
requisition that we should (attempt at least to) adjust their
proportions.
There are religious claims—and these occupy, and
deserve to occupy, the first rank. The Christian world is
at length awakening to some perception of the wants and the
miseries of man—to the purposes of the divine mercy, and
the freeness of the divine promises—to the fulness of time,
the lapse of ages, and the great crisis so long foretold, and so
rapidly approaching. The voice of more than six hundred
millions of the human race, rises at last above the collision of
human passions, and rouses professors of religion from their
criminal slumbers. The obligations which we owe to that
scattered and despised people, from whom we derive the oracles of
truth, and
all the hopes of immortality, begin to be better understood, and
more powerfully felt. The moral wastes spreading around us,
even in this highly-favoured country, this Eden of the world,
have attracted the eye, and moved the heart, of Christian
benevolence; corresponding instrumentality is employed—and
exertions, not indeed commensurate with the work, but
proportionate to our ability, are called into complete and
effective operation. Bible Societies are multiplying
throughout Europe and America, having lighted the torch of
scriptural knowledge, from the fire which burns on the altar of
Great Britain—and the divine blessing upon human industry,
applied to a cause so sacred, has almost supplied the absence of
the miraculous gift of tongues. Men of God have been found,
fired with apostolic zeal, who, after having prepared themselves
so far as human effort could extend, have given themselves wholly
to the sublime work, of “preaching the unsearchable riches
of Christ,” to unenlightened nations, and heathen
countries. They have sacrificed country, home, family,
personal ease and distinction, every thing that men most esteem,
for this arduous, this laborious undertaking. Some of them
have fallen martyrs in the cause—they have fallen under the
effects of an unhealthy climate, or the oppression of wicked
men—but their graves are watered with the tears of
strangers, and their memory is cherished in the hearts of their
countrymen—foreign eyes have wept their departure—foreign hands
have prepared their sepulchre—and an unknown tongue has
recorded their disinterested and successful labours. At
home, the education of the poor has occupied the public
attention, throughout all classes of society, and all
denominations of Christians—it has called forth the most
astonishing exertions—and been crowned with the most
unexampled success. Corresponding efforts have been made,
in preaching the gospel—that scriptural and divinely
authorized mode of diffusing religious truth—and the
increasing spirit of hearing, and the multiplication of our
sanctuaries of every description and denomination, prove that
these things have not been in vain.
The claims of humanity have kept pace with those of
religion—necessarily so—for the gospel of our Lord
Jesus Christ, has identified itself with whatever can contribute
to the alleviation of human wretchedness here, while it has
eternally secured human salvation hereafter. Philosophy
erected no asylums for the afflicted—and made no provision
for misery. As the Roman empire waned, and the influence of
the gospel began to be felt—some efforts were made to wipe
the tear from the cheek of wretchedness—but nothing of a
fixed and national character established itself, until the
religious reign of Jesus obtained in society. Then arose
the structures of mercy—then, all the powers of the human
mind were bent to the alleviation of distress—then,
encouragements to industry were proposed—and it was attempted to
repel affliction so far as it was possible—and to
ameliorate it, where it could not be excluded. Then female
virtues were elicited and cherished—woman was advanced to
her proper rank in society—released from the chains,
physical, mental, and moral, in which an unnatural bondage had
held her; and her ministering graces, her tender sympathies, her
soothing powers, were called into exercise. Now it is only
necessary to name the wrong which requires to be
redressed—to state the woe which can be alleviated—to
present to Christian compassion a new picture of human
misery—or to open before Christian philanthropy a new
channel in which its exhaustless streams may flow—in order
to command attention and secure success. Men are no longer
willing to settle down upon a barren creed: but have learned from
inspired oracles—that “pure religion from God even
the Father is this—to visit the fatherless and the widow in
their afflictions, and to keep ourselves unspotted from the
world.”
Fourthly, All these things are to
be met in their variety of claims, and in due proportion.
In general we may remark, that they can only be met in
part—all things are not within our power—and all
things have not equal claims upon our attention. It is the
diversity of such objects that often produces
distraction—and their multiplication, rendering an
attention to all impracticable, furnishes an apology to the
indolent or the avaricious, for not supporting any.—But the
question is not left to our decision. Man is
himself the property of God—and all that he possesses he
holds in trust for his Maker. Every thing that relates to
him is a stewardship for which he is accountable upon the peril
of his immortal spirit. The interests of society are
involved in the result, and it is not abandoned to individual
caprice. The law is positive as to the right of man upon
human ministry, the question only relates to the proportions of
its distribution—and rules are assigned even to
this—It is required of stewards that they be found
faithful—and he who ministers to man, should at the same
moment remember his obligations and his responsibility to
God.
In particular, local claims demand to be first
satisfied. The man has a duty which he owes to
himself—and it is not demanded that he should lose sight of
this, in pursuit of the interest of others. How delicately
the Apostle states this: “And herein I give my
advice”—no authoritative command—no usurpation
over the right of private judgment—and with what
consideration! “For I mean not that other men be
eased and you burdened: but by an equality, that now at this time
your abundance may be a supply for their want, that their
abundance also may be a supply for your want—that there may
be an equality. As it is written, he that had gathered much
had nothing over; and he that had gathered little, had no
lack.”—What an argument!—The giver may
hereafter stand in need of the gift—and he shall meet with
reciprocal liberality.—The divine Providence furnishes all
the supply; and sheds a correspondent blessing upon enlargement
of heart—It equalizes human affairs now, above our present
perception—and strikes the eternal balance at last.
The man has a duty which he owes to his neighbourhood. On
the plea of sending the gospel abroad, he has no right to neglect
it at home—and to see British heathens perishing at his
feet, unmoved. On pretence of spreading it over the dark
villages of his country, he has no authority for abandoning his
own church, and his own minister. He who is “higher
than the highest”—the Judge of hearts—and the
Lord of property—will another day say to the man who has
speculated upon general interests and overlooked such as are
personal—“These things ye ought to have
done—and not to have left the other undone.”
The bounds of our habitation are assigned by the divine
Providence; and they clearly mark out the first and most pressing
sphere of operation; while they are sufficiently wide to afford
ample scope for beneficence, without restraining a benevolent
regard to objects more remote, but not less interesting. It
is evident that the man must decide for himself, amidst this
variety of claims—that he is bound to decide promptly, for
immortal spirits are perishing while he is
hesitating—equitably, for the tribunal stands at the end of
his course—and that only general rules can be laid down for
his guidance. To these we now proceed—What is our
duty in respect of these different claims individually? in other
words:
Fifthly, What are THE
PROPORTIONS of Christian liberality? The principles
already established will go far to decide this important inquiry;
and have therefore been broadly stated, and have occupied so much
of your time. But specific directions will be expected, and
may be necessary. They must be plain, in order to be
understood; short, in order to be remembered; and scriptural, in
order to possess due weight.—It is of little consequence
what human opinion is upon a point so important—We are
expressly bound by the law of that Being at whose bar we are to
be finally judged. If I produce his requisitions—I
presume no man will dare to question their authority—The
rules laid down in the word of God, are these—
1. Ability—really and honestly estimated by
a man’s own conscience. Thus Jesus applauded
Mary!—“She hath done what she could.” The
question—What can I afford?—is answered differently,
under different circumstances. If a man is disposed to
build a house—to enlarge his establishment—to extend
his connexions—to increase his business—he feels no
difficulty in answering this inquiry. He is apt to
calculate even beyond his means; and he is certain not to fall
short of them. But if the same question be put relative to
any cause of religion, or humanity, his perplexities instantly
commence. Then, he is doubtful of his resources—then,
his calculations become contracted—then, he measures
his duties by the standard of others, rather than by his own
capacities—then, he is anxious to ascertain how little he
may do, and yet preserve his character.—Nothing can more
decidedly settle this point, than the indisputable
fact—that of all the great societies formed for the
furtherance of religious knowledge, and moral improvement, there
is not one whose funds are not more dependent upon the
contributions of the lower classes of life than upon the rich and
the noble. Look at the proportions of those
contributions—and decide for yourselves. The poor
have but little to give—they are therefore under the full
force of the principle of doing what they can—the rich are
content to shake the superfluities of their prosperity over a
Christian cause—and sometimes reluctantly grant even
these.—But the final estimate will be made according to a
man’s ability: he will be judged not merely by what he has
done, but by what he might have done; and he must abide all the
consequences.
2. Prosperity—ought to determine the
measure of benevolence. So said the Apostle when he wrote
to the Corinthians—“Now concerning the collection for
the saints, as I have given order to the churches of Galatia,
even so do ye. Upon the first day of the week let every one
of you lay by him in store, as God hath prospered him,
that there be no gathering when I come. And when I come,
whomsoever you shall approve by your letters, him will I
send to bring your liberality into Jerusalem.”
The personal question is—Has this plain and imperative rule
been observed by you individually? Have you rendered unto
the Lord, according to the benefits received? Changes have
occurred in your circumstances. Some can say, like Jacob,
“With my staff I passed over this Jordan, and now I am
become two bands.”—The table is spread for
them—their “head is anointed with
oil”—their “cup runneth over”—Have
their grants to the cause of religion corresponded with the
bounties of Providence? Oh, if this were the case, it would
not be necessary to press the subject of Christian benevolence
and of humane consideration so far and so earnestly as we are now
compelled to do! There would be a spontaneity of heart
springing up with the claim—and the inquiry would be,
“What can I do for him, who has done so much for
me?”—Let every one within this sanctuary examine his
personal deportment, and answer it to his
conscience—whether his liberality has kept pace with his
prosperity.
3. Adversity is no absolute bar to
generosity—When that all-seeing eye, to which motives
are as discernible as actions, was fixed upon those who brought
their gifts to the treasury—a poor widow approached, and
cast in two mites, the value of which amounted to one
farthing—and the offering received the commendation of Him
who is the Lord of property—to whom the silver and the gold
belong of
right—and when they are consecrated to his service, it is
of his own that we take to present to him. “And he
said, Of a truth I say unto you, that this poor widow hath cast
in more than they all: for all those have of their abundance cast
in unto the offerings of God: but she of her penury hath cast in
all the living that she had.” “Many that were
rich, cast in much:” but she indeed did
“what she could.” What high and deserved
praise was that which the Apostle Paul pronounced upon “the
churches of Macedonia”!—“that, in a great trial
of affliction, the abundance of their joy and their deep poverty
abounded unto the riches of their liberality.”
“For,” said he, “to their power (I bear record)
yea, and beyond their power, they were willing of themselves:
praying us with much entreaty that we would receive the gift, and
take upon us the fellowship of the ministering to the
saints. And this they did, not as we hoped, but first gave
their ownselves to the Lord, and unto us by the will of
God.” When penury and poverty lend their aid to the
cause of humanity and religion, the heart is indeed engaged in
the good work. Some would shut these sluices of benevolence
on the part of the poor, and deprive them of the highest
gratification of which a generous mind is susceptible, under the
pretext of compassion for their circumstances. But the
Apostle produced this liberality of the Macedonians amidst the
contractedness of their means, as an evidence of the power
“of the grace of God,” upon their hearts; and such
persons as would restrain the hand of the indigent, would, if
they preserved any measure of consistency, have condemned the
widow whom the Lord commended—and have censured the act
which he approved.
4. Domestic wants and claims must be first
regarded.—“If any provide not for his own, and
specially for those of his own house, he hath denied the faith,
and is worse than an infidel.” These natural claims
are allowed to act with all their power upon the heart of the
Christian; and he is charged to pay homage to them in all the
extent of their commanding influence. He cannot resist, or
neglect, them, without renouncing his character and his
religion. This furnished the great and palpable distinction
between Christianity and the infidelity, which in modern times
borrowed the venerable name of philosophy. The philosophy,
“falsely so called,” was always boasting of universal
philanthropy, applying the telescope to the vision, to bring near
distant objects, in the mean while neglecting those which were at
home, and branding the respect due to the ties of nature, with
the epithets of weakness, or of crime; teaching that while
speculation upon abstract principles is virtue,—gratitude,
love, natural affection, are vices. Such monstrous
propositions, however plausible in theory, were in practice
destructive of human happiness, and ruinous to society. The
beneficence of Christianity, on the other hand, resembles the pebble
dropped into the centre of the lake; circle expands beyond
circle, until they wash the distant shore. She first
implants in the heart the seed of Christian benevolence, whose
diffusive influence extends to the most remote claims; but the
operation is progressive—it passes through all the nearest
relations of life to the great family of man. She teaches
the man to set first an infinite value upon his own soul, then to
feel the most lively interest for his family, for his neighbours,
for his countrymen, for the whole human race. The
characteristics of the parent, the patriot, the true citizen of
the world, the universal philanthropist, are successively
developed; and they all centre in the Christian. Neither is
this a theory of speculation; but a system of active and
unwearied benevolence.
5. Justice must be always
observed.—“Defraud not,” “owe no man
any thing,” are imperative rules. The last rule
cannot, from the nature of our general pursuits, and the
constitution of society, be always rigidly interpreted; but it
should be as closely observed as circumstances will permit; and
invariably associated with the former,—to the utter
exclusion of every species of fraud. He who risks the
property of others in speculation, except with their full
concurrence, and perfect understanding of the contingent
character of the scheme, can scarcely be called honest; and he
who expends on any pretence what is not his own, is guilty of
injustice. But we must be just, before we are generous—we
cannot be generous, except we are just—for no service can
be good, which is not strictly righteous. Reverse the
proposition, and it holds equally true—when the claims of
justice are met, it becomes instantly an act of justice that we
should be liberal. No man, for the sake of appearance, has
a right to give beyond his means—and no man can be
justified, on the contrary, in withholding so much of assistance
from the cause of religion and humanity, as his circumstances
will really allow. Justice in principle will decide the
duty—and justice in operation will regulate the
distribution. As all means are limited, it is alike prudent
rightly to measure them, and equitable to select such causes as
are most extensively useful in their nature and
operations—and such characters as are most deserving of
assistance, as the first, although not exclusive, objects of our
attention—“For we are to do good unto all men, as we
have opportunity—but especially to them who are of the
household of faith.”
6. Personal sacrifices will be certainly
required, and must be made.—He who will tread in
the Saviour’s steps, and in those of apostles and primitive
Christians, must learn to “deny himself.” This
rule is necessary to enable us to judge of our actual power of
liberality. We should carefully examine what indulgences we
can resign, and what superfluities we can retrench, for the
advantage of others, without an unreasonable sacrifice of our own
comforts. To yield something personal for general good, imparts a
zest to liberality which rewards the generous surrender.
This is a rule which we should connect with the earliest
instructions of our children. Let that which their hearts
prompt them to give be really their own—they will then
learn to spare in order to gratify the kindly impulses of their
nature—and this submission to a partial privation, will
impart to them the consciousness of acting from principle.
It will further teach them early to estimate property aright, for
it’s use, and not for it’s own sake—and shew
them (for they are most correct reasoners, from the simplicity of
their ideas, and the undivided attention which they pay to the
single object which at any one time occupies their reflections)
that the way to be truly blessed in themselves, is by becoming
blessings to others. This is a lesson needed all through
life—we cannot begin to learn it too soon, nor put it in
practice too early. “There is that withholdeth more
than is meet, and it tendeth to poverty.” The curse
of God is upon unsanctified wealth—it is unsanctified when
it is unemployed—and the selfish can never be liberal.
Lastly. The general rule which should be honestly
applied, is this—“If there be first a willing mind,
it is accepted according to that a man hath, and not according to
that he hath not.” And the spirit which should
sanctify all your distributions, is drawn by St. Paul with a
masterly hand.
“But this I say, he which soweth sparingly, shall reap
sparingly; and he which soweth bountifully, shall reap
bountifully. Every man according as he purposeth in his
heart, so let him give; not grudgingly, or of necessity: for God
loveth a cheerful giver.” That is the suitable
temper; and what an encouragement follows! “And God
is able to make all grace abound towards you; that ye having
always all sufficiency in all things, may abound to every good
work.” It is also guaranteed by express precepts,
promises, and examples all combined—“As it is
written, He hath dispersed abroad: he hath given to the poor: his
righteousness remaineth for ever.” Then the fervour
of ministerial affection breaks forth!—“Now he that
ministereth seed to the sower, both minister bread for your food,
and multiply your seed sown, and increase the fruits of your
righteousness; being enriched in every thing to all
bountifulness, which causeth through us thanksgiving to
God.” He next directs their attention to the
beneficial result, both to others and to themselves, of the right
exercise of this Christian beneficence. “For the
administration of this service, not only supplieth the want of
the saints, but is abundant also by many thanksgivings unto God:
while by the experiment of this ministration they glorify God for
your processed subjection unto the gospel of Christ, and for your
liberal distribution unto them and unto all men; and by
their prayer for you, which long after you for the exceeding
grace of God in you.”
He
could add nothing more, or greater, except in referring to the
divine Fountain of all benevolence, and it’s matchless
result. “Now thanks be to God for his unspeakable
gift!”
We must now appeal to the final judgment, as suggesting a
perfect rule for the exercise of Christian affection, (did we
accustom ourselves to realize the awful scenes of that
day)—and as casting up the whole sum of Christian
duty. Have I been defective in discussing this important
subject—and in discriminating the just proportions of
Christian liberality? (and I am deeply sensible of my own
deficiency,) I will now apply a test which cannot be
mistaken—which needs no metaphysical disquisitions to
settle moral claims—which is universally
intelligible—which approves itself to every
conscience. The doubts which appear to distract the mind
now, as to what is required at our hand, will all vanish in the
day, when “the sound of the cherubim wings,” shall be
“as the voice of Almighty God, when he
speaketh.”—Now we may be blinded by our supposed
interest—hardened by our avarice—seduced by our
self-love—confirmed in all these by the conduct, and
countenanced by the negligence and indifference, the coldness and
the covetousness of others—but then the law will be
proclaimed to the assembled universe by the “shout from
heaven,” which shall announce the descent of “the
Lord himself,”—by “the voice of the archangel
and the trump of God,”—then the transcript of that law of
love written upon the heart of the Judge—“Good will
to man,”—and recorded in the neglected volume of
revelation, shall be read by the light of those fires which shall
catch world after world, until above, beneath, around, the
universe shall present one boundless ocean of rushing and
devouring flame; while “clouds and darkness shall be round
about the Lord;” “righteousness and judgment shall be
the habitation of his throne;” when he “cometh to
judge the earth;” and into this awful pavilion men and
angels shall be gathered, and in passing sentence, the legislator
will establish it upon his own written law.—Connect then
the claims of duty, and the testimony of conscience, with the
responsibility of that great and dreadful day—Think, that
you hear the voice of the Son of God himself saying—(and
you must all hear it)—“Inasmuch as ye have
done it”—or “have not done
it”—“unto one of the least of these,—ye
have done it,” or “have not done it, unto
me,”—and remember that there are none who will then
think that they have done too much—and but few, who will
not regret that they have done so little!
THE
END.
J. G.
BARNARD,
SKINNER STREET, LONDON.
