Volume II Part 13 (1/2)
Ladies of opulence or of leisure should reflect further, that in paying an occasional visit to the dwellings of poverty and suffering, they are not only likely to discover many cases of silent, un.o.btrusive wretchedness, which but for their personal inquiries and researches might sink into the grave without the smallest relief, while clamorous wo sometimes gains the ear of the most thoughtless pa.s.senger, but they become the means of imparting a twofold blessing. In addition to what they give, the sense of their sympathy enhances the favour, and it is received with double pleasure. Man is possessed of a social principle, which operates with peculiar energy in cases of affliction. As a consciousness of neglect excites disgust and resentment, so a conviction of being the object of solicitude and sympathy produces the most grateful emotions. It may, therefore be safely a.s.serted, that a donation to the poor, when _personally_ bestowed by the donor, is, in consequence of the effect produced on the _mind_ of the sufferer, of incalculably greater importance and use than the same or even a superior sum contributed by the cold agency of some unfeeling distributor. Besides, a charitable soul has a perpetual feast. Who can remain an unaffected spectator of the tearful eye--the speaking look--the thankful smile? The very silence which an overwhelming sense of kindness imposes, is more delightful to a benevolent spirit than dainties to the taste or music to the ear.
In dispensing charity, many valuable acquisitions may be gained. It is, in fact, a profitable service; and he makes an excellent exchange indeed, who, while bestowing money or goods to a.s.sist the poor, obtains substantial instruction. Here then, in the meanest hovel, in the most shattered and weather-beaten shed, amidst cries of distress and sights of sorrow, the wisest may gain knowledge. What a lesson of grat.i.tude is taught in every scene and circ.u.mstance! Who maketh thee to differ from another in point of temporal possession, mental superiority, or religious distinction? What hast thou, that thou hast not _received_? That humble cottager is human, like thyself! That nest of callowness and weakness contains the same species with thyself, on whom Providence has bestowed wings to soar to heights of prosperity and enjoyment. Thou art descended from the same common Father, and art heir of the same common dust! Thy life is no less precarious, if it be less wretched, than that which animates a meaner clay, and breathes in a less decorated exterior! If the one be porcelain, and the other earthen ware, both are brittle! ”G.o.d hath made of one blood all nations of men.” Sometimes a cottage furnishes an impressive lesson respecting the _independence of happiness upon external circ.u.mstances_. It teaches the salutary truth, that it is in the power of religion to impart substantial felicity in every condition, to communicate exalted enjoyment, to form an enn.o.bled character in the meanest habitation, and to inspire the sublime sentiment of the poet:
”Give what thou wilt, _without_ thee I am poor, And _with_ thee rich, take what thou wilt away.”
COWPER.
Poverty has been the lot of the most distinguished of the human species; and if ever the vanity of riches, and the incurable emptiness of temporal splendour are felt, surely it must be when visiting the dwellings of the _pious_ poor. No riches can inspire their songs of praise, or purchase a t.i.tle to their immortal inheritance. No rank or dignity can attract the eyes of those holy spirits that hover round the spot to which affliction has confined an outcast Lazarus, or kindle such rapturous sensations and holy congratulations, as they manifest at the repentance of a sinner.
Piety hallows the dwelling which it inhabits, and felicitates as well as sanctifies the heart, the family, and the city which it pervades. In the primitive ages of Christianity, the disciples of our Lord could see the rapacious oppressor seize the last portion of their worldly goods, and ”take it joyfully;” they could ”most gladly glory in their infirmities, that the power of Christ might rest upon them;” they could hail the martyr's stake, while they antic.i.p.ated the martyr's crown; and, in the days of Paul and Silas, if there were a spot on earth where celestial joy took up her residence, it was, at least for one happy night, in the very dungeon of persecution.
To return to Dorcas. Her character is so described, as to imply that hers were _free_, and often _unsolicited charities_. She did not indolently wait for applications, or contrive a thousand delays, while misery was pining into the grave; but, like her Divine Master, ”_went about_ doing good.” She penetrated the obscurest retreats, not waiting to be pressed and urged to afford a trifling relief; but her benevolence resembled the course of the sun, which pours its beneficent radiance upon the earth with undistinguis.h.i.+ng liberality. It ought not to be forgotten, that sometimes minds of the most delicate const.i.tution are involved in all the miseries of poverty, and placed in a situation of all others the most painful, that of persons reduced from former competency and comfort. The privations of life are far more sensibly felt by those who have once known plenteousness. To them the wind of adversity blows with tenfold keenness, and the crust of want seems peculiarly unpalatable. They are reluctant, not to say ”ashamed, to beg.” The blushes of an instinctive sensibility suffuse their countenances, and pet.i.tions for a.s.sistance falter on their tongues. They have to contend not only with the afflictions of poverty, but with all the timidity which a consciousness of degradation superinduces. In many cases of this description, persons of eminent worth have been found, who could not overcome their scruples, till absolute want forced them abroad to suffer the rebuffs of an unfeeling world, or to gain the scanty pittance which mere importunity extorted from reluctant opulence. Dorcas is celebrated for having particularly selected such a cla.s.s of sufferers. She had sought out the _widows_, who had lost their dearest relatives, by whose daily and cheerful labours they were perhaps enabled to live in decent sufficiency, or by whose sympathizing tenderness they were at least consoled amidst inevitable sorrows. The weakness of their s.e.x, or the infirmities of their advanced age, prevented their contending with the storms of life; and, no doubt, many of them surrounded by a numerous family, at the decease of the beloved of their hearts, were left to struggle with acc.u.mulated difficulties.
Women on whom Providence has bestowed a sufficiency, might here find ample means of usefulness among persons of their own s.e.x. A helping hand might rescue many a widow from the deep waters of overwhelming grief: a trifling sum would in many cases prove an inestimable boon; and a very small expense of time and trouble might produce the most valuable results. A well-constructed system of benevolence resembles a fine adjustment of mechanism: by a gentle force or a moderate supply, judiciously applied, the whole machinery is kept in motion, and the greatest burdens are removed.
This leads us to remark another characteristic feature in the charity of Dorcas. It was _wise_ and _prudential_. She had a _plan_ which was not only unexceptionable, but singularly excellent and worthy of imitation.
This consisted in furnis.h.i.+ng the poor with substantial a.s.sistance, and providing for the proper application of her aid to their real and most pressing necessities. She made ”coats and garments” for widows. It is to be feared, that the good intentions of persons charitably disposed are often frustrated by the improper manner in which they render a.s.sistance to the poor. They fulfil the impulse of a benevolent spirit by sending or giving their money, leaving the mode of its expenditure to their own judgment. But it is notorious, that such as are in reduced circ.u.mstances, and who feel the particular pressure of the moment which they are most anxious to relieve, have very little sense of the real value of money and of the propriety of providing against the difficulties of futurity. They take the cordial to-day, draining out every drop, forgetting that the phial will be empty to-morrow. In consequence of this extreme improvidence and inconsideration, the pecuniary help they receive frequently does little good, and fails of all the purposes which a pious charity intended.
The depravity of mankind, which must be expected to operate in the poor as well as in the rich, is another occasion of the misuse of benevolent aid. The friendly supply is consumed upon their l.u.s.ts. Abandoned in character and selfish in principle, many heads of poor families addict themselves to bad company, despoiling their families of their earnings and of charitable supplies, and stupifying their consciences in the cup of intoxication. The discovery of such a misapplication ought not to extinguish the feeling of sympathy, but rather excite it afresh; both because the individuals themselves are to be doubly pitied for their dest.i.tution of moral feeling and want of religion, as well as of necessary subsistence, and because their outraged families demand renewed attention.
It ought also to render liberal persons particularly watchful of the use which is made of their benefactions. It should not shut the heart, but regulate the course of feeling. The sin of others does not exempt us from the duty of contributing to the alleviation of their miseries, though it ought to induce us to study the best expedients for counteracting it. It is in fact quite as requisite that we should see to the application of what is given as to give, in all cases where this is possible or convenient. Dorcas appears to have adopted the useful plan of expending the money which she appropriated to the poor widows, _for them_; partly because she was probably better able to judge of the most useful mode of a.s.sisting them, and partly because the very same sum would prove doubly efficient in consequence of the savings which would acrue from working with her own hands.
The pretences by which men excuse themselves from giving to the poor are stated, and satisfactorily answered, by Dr. Paley, [43] in the following words: ”1. 'That they have nothing to spare,' _i.e._ nothing for which they have not provided some other use: nothing which their plan or expense, together with the savings they have resolved to lay by, will not exhaust: never reflecting whether it be in their _power_, or that it is their _duty_, to retrench their expenses, and contract their plan, 'that they may give to them that need: or rather that this ought to have been part of their plan originally.
”2. 'That they have families of their own, and that charity begins at home.' The extent of this plea will be considered when we come to explain the duty of parents.”
_N. B._ The explanation is, that the duties of parents comprehend ”maintenance, education, and a reasonable provision for the child's happiness in respect to outward condition.... A father of a family is bound to adjust his economy with a view to these demands upon his fortune; and until a sufficiency for these ends is acquired, or in due time _probably_ will be acquired (for in human affairs _probability_ ought to content us,) frugality and exertions of industry are duties. He is also justified in declining expensive liberality: for, to take from those who want, to give to those who want, adds nothing to the stock of public happiness. Thus far, therefore, and no farther, the plea of 'children,' of 'large families,' charity begins at home,' &c. is an excuse for parsimony, and an answer to those who solicit our bounty. Beyond this point, as the use of riches becomes less, the desire of _laying up_ should abate proportionably.
”3. 'That charity does not consist in giving money, but in benevolence, philanthropy, love to all mankind, goodness of heart,' &c. Hear St. James: ”If a brother or sister be naked, and dest.i.tute of daily food, and one of you say unto them, Depart in peace; be ye warmed and filled; notwithstanding _ye give them not those things which are needful to the body_; what doth it profit?” James ii. 15, 16.
”4. 'That giving to the poor is not mentioned in St. Paul's description of charity in the thirteenth chapter of his first epistle to the Corinthians.' This is not a description of charity, but of good nature; and it is not necessary that every duty be mentioned in every place.
”5. 'That they pay the poor-rates.' They might as well allege that they pay their debts: for the poor have the same right to that portion of a man's property which the laws a.s.sign to them, that the man himself has to the remainder.
”6. 'That they employ many poor persons:'--for their own sake, not the poor's;--otherwise it is a good plea.
”7. 'That the poor do not suffer so much as we imagine; that education and habit have reconciled them to the evils of their condition, and make them easy under it.' Habit can never reconcile human nature to the extremities of cold, hunger, and thirst, any more than it can reconcile the hand to the touch of a red hot iron; besides, the question is not, how unhappy any one is, but how much more happy we can make him.
”8. 'That these people, give them what you will, will never thank you, or think of you for it.' In the first place, this is not true; in the second place, it was not for the sake of their thanks that you relieved them.
”9. 'That we are liable to be imposed upon.' If a due inquiry be made, our merit is the same; besides that the distress is generally real, although the cause be untruly stated. ”10. 'That they should apply to their parishes.' This is not always practicable: to which we may add, that there are many requisites to a comfortable subsistence which parish relief does not supply; and that there are some, who would suffer almost as much from receiving parish relief as by the want of it; and lastly, that there are many modes of charity to which this answer does not relate at all.
”11. 'That giving money encourages idleness and vagrancy.' This is true only of injudicious and indiscriminate generosity.
”12. 'That we have too many objects of charity at home, to bestow any thing upon strangers; or that there are other charities, which are more useful, or stand in greater need.' The value of this excuse depends entirely upon the _fact_, whether we actually relieve those neighbouring objects, and contribute to those other charities.
”Besides all these excuses, pride, or prudery, or delicacy, or love of ease, keep one half of the world out of the way of observing what the other half suffer.”
The sentiments expressed by the profound Dr. Barrow [44] will form an appropriate conclusion to the present chapter.
”If we contemplate our wealth itself, we may therein descry great motives to bounty. Thus to employ our riches, is really the best use they are capable of; not only the most innocent, most worthy, most plausible; but the most safe, most pleasant, most advantageous, and consequently in all respects most prudent way of disposing of them. To keep them close, without using or enjoying them at all, is a most sottish extravagance or a strange kind of madness; a man thence affecting to be rich, quite impoverished himself, dispossesseth himself of all, and alienateth from himself his estate; his gold is no more his than when it was in the Indies, or lay hid in the mines; his corn is no more his than if it stood growing in Arabia or China; he is no more owner of his lands than he is master of Jerusalem or Grand Cairo; for what difference is there, whether distance of place or baseness of mind sever things from him? whether his own heart or another man's hand detain them from his use? whether he hath them not at all, or hath them to no purpose? whether one is a beggar out of necessity or choice? is pressed to want, or a volunteer thereto? Such an one may fancy himself rich, and others, as wise as himself, may repute him so; but so distracted persons, to themselves and to one another do seem great princes, and style themselves such; with as much reason almost he might pretend to be wise or to be good. Riches are ???ata things whose nature consists in usefulness; abstract that, they become nothing, things of no consideration or value; he that hath them is no more concerned in them than he that hath them not. It is the heart, and skill to use affluence of things wisely and n.o.bly, which makes it wealth, and const.i.tutes him rich that hath it; otherwise the chests may be crammed, and the barns stuffed full, while the man is miserably poor and beggarly; 'tis in this sense true which the wise man says, '_There is that maketh himself rich, yet hath nothing_'”