40. Benevolence
Doing good is the only certain happy action of a man's life. The very consciousness of well-doing is in itself ample reward for the trouble we have been put to. The enjoyment of benevolent acts grows upon reflection. Experience teaches this so truly, that never did any soul do good but he came readier to do the same again with more enjoyment. Never was love or gratitude or bounty practiced but with increasing joy, which made the practicer more in love with the fair act.
If there be a pleasure on earth which angels can not enjoy, and which they might almost envy man the possession of, it is the power of relieving distress. If there be a pain which devils might almost pity man for enduring, it is the death-bed reflection that we have possessed the power of doing good, but that we have abused and perverted it to purposed ill. He who has never denied himself for the sake of giving has but glanced at the joys of benevolence. We owe our superfluity, and to be happy in the performance of our duty we must exceed it. The joy resulting from the diffusion of blessings to all around us is the purest and sublimest that can ever enter the human mind, and can be understood only by those who have experienced it. Next to the consolation of divine grace it is the most sovereign balm to the miseries of life, both in him who is the object of it, and in him who exercises it.
In all other human gifts and possessions, though they advance nature, yet they are subject to excess. For so we see, that by aspiring to be like God in power, the angels transgressed and fell; by aspiring to be like God in knowledge man transgressed and fell; but by aspiring to be like God in goodness or love neither man nor angels ever did or shall transgress, for unto that imitation we are called. A life of passionate gratification is not to be compared with a life of active benevolence. God has so constituted our natures that a man can not be happy unless he is or thinks he is a means of doing good. We can not conceive of a picture of more unutterable wretchedness than is furnished by one who knows that he is wholly useless in the world.
A man or woman without benevolence is not a perfect being; they are only a deformed personality of true manhood or womanhood. In every heart there are many tendencies to selfishness; but the spirit of benevolence counteracts them all. In a world like this, where we are all so needy and dependent, where our interests are so interlocked, where our lives and hearts overlap each other and often grow together, we can not live without a good degree of benevolence. We do most for ourselves when we do most for others; hence our highest interests, even from a purely selfish point of view, are in the paths of benevolence. And in a moral sense we know "that it is more blessed to give than to receive." Good deeds double in the doing, and the larger half comes back to the donor. A large heart of charity is a noble thing, and the most benevolent soul lives nearest to God. Selfishness is the root of evil; benevolence is its cure. In no heart is benevolence more beautiful than in youth; in no heart is selfishness more ugly. To do good is noble; to be good is more noble. This should be the aim Of all the young. The poor and the needy should occupy a large place in their hearts. The sick and suffering should claim their attention. The sinful and criminal should awaken their deepest pity. The oppressed and downtrodden should find a large place in their compassion.
Woman appears in her best estate in the exercise of benevolent deeds. How sweet are her soothing words to the disconsolate! How consoling her tears of sympathy to the mourning! How fresh her spirit of hope to the discouraged! How balmy the breath of her love to the oppressed! Man, too, appears in his best light and grandest aspect when he appears as the practical follower of Him who went about doing good. He who does these works of practical benevolence is educating his moral powers in the school of earnest and glorious life. He is laying the foundation for a noble and useful career. He is planting the seeds of a charity that will grow to bless and save the sufferings of our fellow-men.
Liberality consists less in giving profusely than in giving judiciously, for there is nothing that requires so strict an economy as our benevolence. Liberality, if spread over too large a surface, produces no crop. If over one too small it exuberates in rankness and in weeds. And yet it requires care to avoid the other extreme. It is better to be sometimes mistaken than not to exercise charity at all. Though we may chance sometimes to bestow our beneficence on the unworthy it does not take from the merit of the act. It is not the true spirit of charity which is ever rigid and circumspect, and which always mistrusts the truth of the necessities laid open to it. Be not frightened at the hard word, "impostor." "Cast thy bread upon the waters." Some have unawares entertained angels.
A man should fear when he enjoys only what good he does publicly, lest it should prove to be the publicity rather than the charity that he loves. We have more confidence in that benevolence which begins in the home and diverges into a large humanity than in the world-wide philanthropy which begins at the outside and converges into egotism. A man should, indeed, have a generous feeling for the welfare of the whole world, and should live in the world as a citizen of the world. But he may have a preference for that particular part in which he lives. Charity begins at home, but it may and ought to go abroad; still we have no respect for self-boasting charity which neglects all objects of commiseration near and around it, but goes to the end of the world in search of misery for the sake of talking about it.
Generosity during life is a very different thing from generosity in the hour of death. One proceeds from genuine liberality and benevolence; the other from pride or fear. He that will not permit his wealth to do any good to others while he is living prevents it from doing any good to himself when he is gone. By an egotism that is suicidal and has a double edge he cuts himself off from the truest pleasures here, and the highest pleasures hereafter. To pass a whole life-time without performing a single generous action till the dying hour, when death unlocks the grasp upon earthly possessions, is to live like the Talipat palm-tree of the East, which blossoms not till the last year of its life. It then suddenly bursts into a mass of flowers, but emits such an odor that the tree is frequently cut down to be rid of it. Even such is the life of those who postpone their munificence until the close of their days, when they exhibit a late efflorescence of generosity, which lacks the sweet-smelling perfume which good deeds should possess. And when it appears, like the Talipat flower, it is a sure sign that death is at hand. They surrender every thing when they see they can not continue to keep possession, and are at last liberal when they can no longer be parsimonious. The truly generous man does not wish to leave enough to build an imposing monument, since there is so much sorrow and suffering to be alleviated. They enjoy the pleasure of what they give by giving it when alive and seeing others benefited thereby.
A conqueror is regarded with awe, the wise man commands our esteem, but it is the benevolent man who wins our affection. A beneficent person is like a fountain watering the earth and spreading fertility; it is, therefore, more delightful and more honorable to give than to receive. The last, best fruit which comes to late perfection, even in the kindliest soul, is tenderness towards the hard, forbearance towards the unforbearant, warmth of heart towards the cold, philanthropy towards the misanthropic.
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