Review and Herald, Vol. 42, No. 11.
SANCTIFICATION; Or the Observations of Forty Years on Christian ExperiencePage 1
SANCTIFICATION; Or the Observations of Forty Years on Christian Experience.
Jacob and Theodore Schoonerhoven were brothers, and strikingly alike in some things; among which was quick and strong perception, which gave them a talent for making property; for honest labor makes property, and shrewd perception takes it. Jacob and Theodore were strikingly unlike, in what philosophers call conscientiousness. The face of each projected over the eyes, like the cornice of a house; but whether they were alike in the higher organs of the brain, where conscience is supposed to dwell, I cannot tell. Theodore, who was two years the elder, often said to his brother, “Come on, Jakey, what if mother did forbid it, she will never know it. It is a little thing, and mother is notional.” Thus Jacob, by the greater energy of his brother, was often drawn into mischief, for which he lay sleepless and weeping at night, until his pillow was drenched with tears; and he often slipped from his bed in the earliest morning light, to confess faults to his mother of which she had never heard. They were educated in the sternest Calvinism. Theodore, who, from his peculiar constitution, expected every good thing, and that every advantage belonged to him, was rather pleased with the doctrine of election, having a vague, but comforting, assurance that he was elected, if anybody was. Jacob, however, who was constitutionally generous and unselfish, felt that if anybody was reprobated, it was most likely to be himself. When the brothers were sixteen and eighteen, a fatal epidemic prevailed, and many were dying. A general awakening occurred, and religious meetings were held night and day. Theodore was frantic with fear, when his confidence in election was shaken by a doctrinal sermon. He screamed aloud in the congregation, and rent the air with cries for mercy, distressed not so much by reflection on particular sins, and on the bearing of such sins on the law and honor to God, and the welfare of men, as by a general idea that he was a sinner, and exposed to hell. The struggle was not long. He was soon rejoicing in an assurance of pardon. Whether he was influenced by constitutional peculiarity, or not, it seemed comparatively easy for Theodore to be satisfied that he was pardoned and accepted. Jacob wore a serious countenance, sometimes wept, yet said but little, and attracted little notice. He was, however, pained beyond description by a view of his sins, seen in the light of the divine character and law, as seen in their bearing on human welfare, and, most of all, as seen in the light of the divine goodness. When he received the “oil of joy for mourning,” he put on “the garment of praise” with great meekness, and quietly adored God, the beauty of whose attributes, character, will, laws, and government, he beheld with new eyes; he heard the voice of God with new ears, and his melting heart received every divine impression. Every one said, “What a remarkable display of divine power in the conversion of Theodore Schoonerhoven. Jacob is rather thoughtful and may become pious, but Theodore is a perfect Gideon: what a gift in prayer and exhortation, and how he shouts!” Theodore was foremost everywhere, urged on, flattered, and praised. Everybody knew him. Jacob labored by precept and example to save men, making no display. Few knew him. Jacob Schoonerhoven was asked to give his views of “sanctification.” The interrogator walked him into the altar, and each seated himself in a chair. It was the interval between services, and they were alone. “It is forty years,” said Mr. S., “since my brother Theodore and myself experienced religion. Soon after our conversion, he professed sanctification, and urged me to seek for it. I considered the subject. Theodore, after being sanctified, was more forward, more confident, but no more disinterested. He was greedy of gain, shrewd in speculation, taking advantage of his keen perception to amass wealth; having his constitutional selfishness still strong, still blinding his judgment, and causing him to think he ought to be favored with all good fortune; men ought to work for him cheap; he ought to receive high wages for public service or mechanical labor; what he sells ought to bring a high price; what he buys ought to be got for little. My brother has never scrupled to buy property at a low price, which he knew was about to rise in value, and to sell at a high price that which was about to fall; he has not scrupled to buy as cheap as possible, young animals of great promise, from men who knew not their value, and to shift off young animals of no promise to men who knew not their worthlessness. All this, he said, was according to law, upheld by public sentiment, and agreeable to his conscience. I considered the subject of sanctification in the light of loving God with all my heart, and loving my neighbor as myself—not so much a work of the emotions as of the judgment—a work not of one moment, but of a life-time; agreement, union and harmony with God; self-lost in humanity; self-lost in God; living for the honor of God and for human welfare, at all times, seven days in the week, three hundred and sixty-five in the year; in all places, at home or abroad; in the sanctuary, at the mill, or at the market; in all business; laboring, buying, or selling. “I went into the woods and prayed for sanctification, when the Lord said: ‘Jacob, dost thou love my will, my law, and my government with all thy heart?’ I said, I do, Lord; and the Lord said: ‘Dost thou love thy neighbor as thyself?’ I answered, I do, Lord. The Lord said: ‘Very well, and now, Jacob, prove thy word in thy life.’ “I went to my house in a happy frame, singing hymns. A week after this, I took down a work on military science, and was reading, having a great ambition for martial fame. The Lord said: ‘Jacob, remember thy word.’ I saw my ambition was self; I dropped the book, and never took it up again. “I had made an arrangement to join a lodge of Masons, was on my way, riding fast, when the Lord said: ‘Jacob, remember thy word.’ I saw that my desire to be a Mason was self; I turned and rode home. I had coveted two colts which I knew would become horses of great value. They were rough and lean, and the owner, not knowing their value, would sell them low. I was on my way to buy them. The Lord said: ‘Jacob, remember thy word.’ I saw I was not loving my neighbor as myself; I went on, and said: ‘Peter, keep your colts; they will make the most valuable horses among all I know.’ Peter said, ‘I did not think them valuable: but I believe you, for you and your brother know more about horses than any men I ever saw; I would give a thousand dollars for your knowledge. But now Mr. Schoonerhoven, the fact is, I must sell them to save my house and land which are mortgaged.’ ‘I will lend you the money,’ I said, ‘to save your house; keep your colts.’ He did keep them, and finally sold them for five hundred dollars. “A man came to me to buy some city lots. I was about to take the price which he offered, when the Lord said: ‘Jacob, remember thy word.’ I said: ‘Mr. Broderick, I cannot in conscience sell you those lots; that part of the city must fail in a few years.’ It did fail, and I turned those lots into a farm. “Thus my sanctification went on. These lessons were never forgotten; self was banished from my buying and selling; the quick discernment of the value of property, and the foresight of coming changes which the Creator had given me, I no more used for my own increase and wealth. It was evident to me that no man could gain wealth by speculation, and yet love his neighbor as himself. I have instructed hundreds of the honest, industrious poor, and kept them from the gins of speculators. My eye was single, my light increased, and my knowledge of right and wrong, of justice and humanity; my perception became keen to understand what was consistent with loving my neighbor as myself, to understand what it was to do to others as I would be done by. “One morning, I was awakened by the voice of the Lord: ‘Jacob, arise, and be sanctified. Remember thy word.’ I arose, and, coming from my lodging room, I met a committee of three, informing me for the part which I took in an anti-slavery meeting, I must recant, or come to trial. I remembered my word, stood my trial, and was excluded. To be separated from the church of my early choice tore my heart. The Lord said: ‘Jacob, lovest thou me more than these?’ I answered, ‘Yea, Lord, I love thee more than all.’ The cause of temperance long before cost me a similar trial. “I had from early life set apart all of my income, above the plain support of my family, for charity, and with much prayer sought for the most needy. I had passed a day under the clear impression that a sore trial was coming. At evening, I stopped in my barn, and cried: ‘Speak, Lord, for thy servant heareth.’ The Lord said: ‘Jacob, art thou ready to be sanctified in the loss of all?’ I said: ‘Yea, Lord, take all. Thou gavest, and, if thou takest away, blessed be thy name.’ “I answered a rap by stepping to the door. Three fugitive slaves, a mother and two daughters, were there. The mother mournfully said: ‘Will you send us back?’ And the Lord said: ‘Jacob, wilt thou obey my laws or the laws of man?’ I answered: ‘I will obey thy laws, Lord.’ ‘Come in,’ I said. I landed them in Canada. I went to jail, and lost all—house, land, herd, and flock. I have gathered a little by hard work in old age. This little cottage is mine, with a few acres of land. My God is reconciled, my peace is like a river, and my treasure in Heaven.” “‘I believe, Bro. Schoonerhoven, that you do not profess sanctification. I never heard you speak of it.’ ‘I never speak of it,’ said Jacob; ‘the word has become a term of reproach. Selfish, willful, proud men make high professions of sanctification. My brother Theodore is often referred to as a model sanctified man. He has amassed a fortune of a hundred thousand dollars by speculation, has always sought popular favor and civil office; has ever remained pro-slavery, opposed to the Maine Law, and has gone with the most profane and debauched political party. The judge, by whose decision I was stripped of all my possessions, professed sanctification. I deem it my duty to make no noisy profession. We should, however, be sanctified every day, in all our volitions, motives, purposes, and designs; in our affections, in our temper and spirit, and in all of our business transactions. All other sanctification is mere emotion, excitement and enthusiasm; and is consistent with selfishness, cruel oppression, and grinding the faces of the poor.’—Wes. Meth. Magazine. BLESSED ARE THEY THAT MOURN.
Oh! deem not that earth’s crowning bliss
Is found in joy alone;
For sorrow, bitter though it be,
Hath blessings all its own:
From lips divine, like healing balm
To hearts oppressed and torn,
This heavenly consolation fell—
“Blessed are they who mourn.” As blossoms smitten by the rain,
Their sweetest odors yield—
As where the plowshare deepest strikes,
Rich harvests crown the field;
So, to the hopes by sorrow crushed,
A nobler faith succeeds;
And life, by trials furrowed, bears
The fruit of loving deeds. Who never mourned, hath never known
What treasures grief reveals—
The sympathies that humanize—
The tenderness that heals—
The power to look within the veil
And learn the heavenly lore—
The key-word to life’s mysteries,
So dark to us before. How rich and sweet and full of strength
Our human spirits are,
Baptized into the sanctities
Of suffering and of prayer!
Supernal wisdom, love divine,
Breathed through the lips which said,
*“Oh! blessèd are the souls that mourn—
They shall be comforted!”* Medical View of Spiritualism.
Of all mental ailments, none seem to yield to treatment so reluctantly as spiritualism. I have watched many cases of genuine spiritualism, but do not remember to have seen a chronic case permanently cured. I have seen typical cases pass regularly through their successive stages and terminate in open insanity, and have never been able to mitigate the symptoms nor avert the result. Spiritualism is the most unpromising complaint with which the psychologist is called to meet. No epidemic of modern times can compare with it. It is a delusion which has existed twenty-five years, and attacked in the United States alone nearly three million people. The last census informs us that there are in the Republic twenty-four thousand insane, setting aside idiots; and it is believed that out of this number seven thousand five hundred cases may be traced directly to spiritualism. The delusion does not appear to be decreasing, though fortunately its victims are now almost altogether from the vulgar and illiterate classes, and scientific men do not seem to be liable to the contagion. It numbers among its victims a few men and women of talent and genius, but they were attacked years ago; and we venture to say that had they remained free from the disorder up to the present day, they would not now be very susceptible to its influence. The fact is, spiritualism has lost its hold on the higher classes, and is spreading with fearful rapidity among the rude and illiterate. Whole communities are given over to its influence. Its believers have their organizations, places of worship, mediums, books, papers, and asylums; they are as sincere, earnest, and fearless, as were the Flagellants, Lycanthropes, and Crusaders of the Middle Ages; but alas! they are even more deranged.—N. Y. Medical Review. Christian Sect of Shikes Discovered in India
A CHRISTIAN sect of unknown origin and antiquity has been discovered by French missionaries in Loudiana, in India. By a voyage which extended thirty miles to the south of that place, they fell in with a company of Shikes, who profess to believe the New Testament as a divine revelation, and who consider Christ as the immaculate incarnation of the Deity. Their priest (gourou) teaches his people that Christ is about to reveal himself from Heaven, according to Matt. 24 : 25, and Rev. 19 : 22, but in his own person. This sect is wholly separate from other Indian tribes, and is considered by them as a truly Christian band. The number of its members was found to be on the increase. They observe the Sabbath, are accustomed to pray, and do not recognize the obligations of caste. The sect extends over the territories of Maharajah and Putteala, and probably belongs to the Kuek race, despite differences in faith.—Christian Intelligencer. Millennium Table!
By M. E. Cornell
The peoples and nations of the earth have so long been drunk on the wine of Babylon that they seem not to discern the true state of the world and tendency of the present age. They turn from the truth to their favorite song of “peace and safety.” They grasp at straws, and watch in vain for some favorable indication. Every now and then, they will seize upon some bubble of hope, only to find it suddenly vanishing from before them. Their hope is in this world, and they want it to be perpetuated as their inheritance in its present, temporal, mortal state; and hence they say it will be so. The wish and desire is father of the thought. They are bound to believe and preach the world’s conversion, notwithstanding the word of God, that it will grow worse and worse till the end, so that it will be even as it was in the days of Noah and Lot. They begin to realize that they are not making much headway in bringing on the time of peace, and are troubled, for they must have the world converted, and so are continually devising plans which they hope will result in the desired change. England, in distress and fear because of the vast war clouds rising in the east and north of Europe, is pleading for a new law of nations, to settle all difficulties by “arbitration.” All eyes are now turned in that direction, hoping that at last the keynote is struck, and the “good time coming,” will soon be here. The following, from the San Francisco Daily Call, shows how they long and hope for what can never be realized:— “Authors have written and minstrels sung of an age when the ‘sword shall be beaten into a plowshare, and the spear into a pruning hook; when nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more.’ This long-looked-for and devoutly-to-be-desired period is known as the ‘millennium.’ The religionist has looked for its advent through the conversion of the world to Christianity; but the statesman hopes to find it by arbitration, through the medium of diplomacy. In view of the obduracy of the human heart, which resists its own convictions, when they seem counter to personal interest, the statesman’s expectations are likely to be realized the soonest, if realization be among the possibilities. While nations are notoriously divided on matters of religious faith, there is a common object between them to attain governmental power and commercial prosperity. Whatever line of policy will promote these ends, is most likely to be adopted. The cessation of wars—the removal of all provoking questions to war—the harmonious interchange of feeling, free from jealousy or wish to encroach upon each other’s personal, political, social, or religious rights, or landed domain—this would be a ‘millennium.’ How shall it be brought about? Henry Richard, Secretary of the London Peace Society, has struck the keynote, by his resolution introduced into the English House of Commons, to wit, a resort to arbitration for the settlement of all international difficulties. It is certainly better to arbitrate before a war than be compelled to make concessions after it. In the first instance, the pride and dignity of both the treating powers is preserved. In the second, one or both of the belligerents may come out of the conflict greatly injured, if not abased and dishonored. “This view of the question is a mere discussion of the logic of wars. Mr. Richard refers to their cruelty and criminality. His figures—adduced to illustrate a supposititious case—might be increased by reference to the history of the past, till they amounted to a sum, in human lives and money, which the mind is incompetent to grasp. He said: “‘The danger of war kept four millions of men armed annually in Europe, rendering necessary a taxation of $2,000,000,000, and the payment of a yearly interest on war debts of $750,000. In addition to this, the value of labor drawn from industry was estimated to be $1,250,000,000. In Germany, the conscription forced an emigration which was depopulating the country; and Russia, France, and Italy, were financially crippled by the expense of their enormous war establishments.’ “This picture is by no means overdrawn. How intensely it would be heightened by painting the suffering and groans of the wounded on the field of battle, crushed beneath the feet of marching columns and the wheels of flying artillery—by depicting the thousands of scattered dead, who fought for a cause in which they felt no interest, and gave their lives without knowing why or wherefore—by representing in the background the homes rendered desolate, the wives and widows bereaved, and the helpless children made orphans. “Mr. Richard has done a noble thing. His resolution was radical in its nature, and therefore a surprise to the House of Commons. But it passed, although only by the casting vote of the Speaker. England was the proper place for such a motion to originate. The great power, intelligence, and philanthropy of her people are an indorsement that will commend the subject to other nations and peoples, who, it is to be hoped, may act out the spirit of this resolve—thus securing to all nations a large degree of happiness.” Is It Worship?
By Samuel J. Niccolls
In our English Bible there is a word in frequent use which seems to be almost obsolete in our common speech. This is not so because time has changed the meaning of the word or substituted a more fitting one; but rather because the sentiment expressed by it seems to be wanting, or is, at least in a very large degree, latent. It is the word, “worship.” The Old-Testament saints speak of going up to “worship” the Lord. All their religious acts were acts of worship to their glorious and invisible King. When the psalmist would arouse the hearts of God’s people, he sings of the joys of the sanctuary, and cries, “O come, let us worship!” In the New Testament, the frequent use of the same term sets forth very clearly the idea that the chief purpose in a religious assembly was to worship God, through the means of his appointment. That God is worthy of our worship, and that he has made it obligatory on all to render him the homage and praise due his name, are truths no right-minded man will question. But it is painfully obvious that there are many notions current among professing Christians, and manifest in their practices, which are directly at variance with these Scripture doctrines. The language we use ordinarily and unconsciously may generally be taken as a true expression of our ideas or sentiments. Judged by this rule, we cannot say that the prevailing idea of a religious assembly on the Sabbath is one of worship. Were some visitor from another world to join the crowd gathering to some well-known church, he would infer from their conversation that they were going to hear Mr. A or B preach. How he preached and the effect of his sermon are the great topics of discussion on their return. It would sound strangely or savor strongly of religious “cant” to speak of the worship of God. Even the minister, who ought to know better, favors the idea that men go to church for instruction and entertainment, rather than for worship. Praise is part of the public worship of God. But instead of saying, “Let us worship God by singing to his praise,” the common introduction is, “Sing the —— hymn,” and when the minister sits down to arrange his papers and read over his notices, the choir sing that hymn—to the congregation. It would be a misnomer to call this an act of worship. It is only a preparation for the sermon. The lamentable truth is that the greater portion of those who attend church do not think of it or speak of it definitely as going up to God’s house to worship him. If the idea of worship were clearly in our minds, the term would be oftener upon our lips. Corresponding to this is the great and growing neglect of public worship. It is one of the dark signs of the times that there are multitudes who never enter the sanctuary, or who go only at rare intervals from curiosity or courtesy to a friend. It bodes no good to a land, when its people forget God or refuse to worship him. Perhaps one cause of this growing evil is to be found in Christian churches themselves, where the prevailing idea has been that men are to come together to hear certain statements and explanations about the gospel, and to have their moral sentiments cultivated and elevated, instead of assembling to praise God for the gospel, and to hear humbly and believingly its messages of grace, pardon, and life. If the church itself obscures the idea of worship in the services of the sanctuary, what wonder that the world forgets its God or goes heedlessly after folly! It is to be feared, also, that the idea of worship in the family is being banished from many households. Indeed, the public and private worship of God are so vitally connected that whatever affects one acts with almost equal power on the other. The household that gathers, morning and evening, around the family altar to worship God, will not be among those who neglect the sanctuary, or mistake the nature of ordinances. But, alas, this busy world, with its urgent cares, drives many a family away from its domestic altar; and long-continued neglect at last deadens the feeling of worship. Nothing is more necessary and important than a revival of the spirit of worship. It is indispensable for the right cultivation of our moral nature. It gives the inspiration for all moral and spiritual greatness, by making us feel our relation to the Infinite and Eternal. We need also to have it quickened and aroused to overcome the materialism of the age, which threatens to turn us into a godless, dissolute, and frivolous people. This work of revivals must begin with the church. Ministers need to show, in all their ministrations, that they are engaged in solemn acts of worship. If they so act as to make their hearers feel that they are in a lecture room, instead of the house of God, what wonder that the people act accordingly? There must also be a more intelligent appreciation on the part of those who frequent the house of God as to the nature and purpose of public worship. Let Christians earnestly consider that they come together to render homage and praise to their God and Redeemer, and to hear him speak, in his appointed way, the messages of his love, and the old joy and ardor of worship will come back to the church. Sweet experience will take up the language of the ancient psalm: “I was glad when they said unto me, Let us go into the house of the Lord,” and happy multitudes will cry, “We will go into his tabernacle; we will worship at his footstool.”—Rev. Samuel J. Niccolls. PROTESTANTS glory in a Bible, says the Baptist Union, and then neglect it. They read it some, but study it little. A real Bible student is a rarity. Every Christian ought to be one, and his children should be taught the word of God so thoroughly that its beauties, sweetness, and purity, become a part of their natures, enter into their characters, giving strength and comfort. Glorious men would be raised by this process, men of sterling integrity, of broad sympathies, noble purposes, generous impulses. But we praise the Bible and neglect to study it. And lacking Bible knowledge, faith is weak, morals are unstable, hearts unsanctified, hopes lack inspiration and gladness. Faith comes by hearing. The word of God must dwell in us richly to produce rich fruits of character and comfort. The cause of this defeat rests mainly with our teachers. Students are trained in theology, but meagerly in the Bible; hence, preachers lack a thorough knowledge of the word of God, and have little skill in teaching what they do know. Among our thousands of ministers, few are good Bible students, and still fewer, skillful Bible teachers. They do not even aim at proficiency in this direction. The popular style of preaching is of another type, dogmatic, rhetorical, hortatory. Moreover, attempts at expository preaching usually fail from lack of knowledge and skill. How can one interest a congregation unless his own soul is full of his theme, his material abundant and wisely handled? The mass of ministers merely take texts from the Bible, and draw sermons from their own thinkings and imaginings; instead of preaching the word, they preach theories. The doctrine is generally good, the principles are correct, but they lack the authority, unction, and power, which always attend the word itself. The people will not excel their teachers in Bible study. Why should they? They may well ask, “How can I, unless some one guides me?” It requires some study and persistent drill to teach geography and arithmetic well, and much more to teach the Bible. Do we expect pupils to succeed in school studies without help? We need it still more in our churches. The people do not know how to study the Bible to advantage. Commentaries are a help, but do not meet the chief want. The pulpit must set forth the sacred word so as to enamor the people with its wealth and beauty and wisdom. But what can the pulpit do till better instructed? Ministers do not know how to expound the Scriptures effectively, and so must be taught. We lament the growth of skepticism, and well we may. The atmosphere is full of unbelief. It is working infinite mischief to morals and piety. The root of the evil is in the church, aye, in the ministry. Faith limps even there; it is feeble, hesitating, cautious, questioning, and seeks bolsters from philosophy, logic, speculation. “Faith comes by hearing;” doubt, through ignorance. When we know the word thoroughly, we trust it implicitly; “thus saith the Lord” settles all doubt. This is ample, sure footing for a royal, masterful faith, and it behoves ministers of Christ to plant themselves upon it. Then they can lead the people to it, and the faith of the church will affect the currents of thought throughout society; the head waters regulate the currents below. The Bible is its own best interpreter and best defense. Apologetics have their uses, but a thorough knowledge of the word itself will insure a sublimer, a stronger, a more triumphant, faith than a world of logic. Reasoning about the Bible is weakness itself compared with the testimony which its own utterances bear. The Sunday-school promises reform. Children are our teachers. The uniform lessons, their exposition in the religious press, the interchange of thought and inducements to study among children are affecting adults and improving sermons. Is it the dawn of a brighter era? Will it make the church a school indeed, and all its members learners? Will it impel ministers to dig deep for the treasures of God, and bring out things new and old from the storehouse? Will it change the whole order of ministerial education, and make a knowledge of God’s word the chief, the central, object of drill? If so, mists and gloom will yield to a glorious faith, and faith would bring holiness, enthusiasm, strength, and gladness.—Golden Censer. The Popular Capacity for Scandal.
By J. G. Holland
ONE of the most saddening and humiliating exhibitions which human nature ever makes of itself, is in its greedy credulity touching all reports of the misdemeanors of good men. If a man stand high as a moral force in the community; if he stand as the rebuker and denouncer of social and political sin; if he be looked up to by any considerable number of people as an example of virtue; if the whole trend and power of his life be in a high and pure direction; if his personality and influence render any allegation against his character most improbable, then most readily does any such allegation find eager believers. It matters not from what source the slander may come. Multitudes will be influenced by a report against a good man's character from one who would not be believed under oath in any matter involving the pecuniary interest of fifty cents. The slanderer may be notoriously base—may be a panderer to the worst passions and the lowest vices—may be a shameless sinner against social virtue—may be a thief, a notorious liar, a drunkard, a libertine, or a harlot—all this matters nothing. The engine that throws the mud is not regarded. The white object at which the foul discharges are aimed is only seen; and the delight of the by-standers and lookers-on is measured by the success of the stain sought to be inflicted. As between the worldling and the man who professes to be guided and controlled by Christian motives, all this is natural enough. The man bound up in his selfish and sensual delights, who sees a Christian fall, or hears the report that he has fallen, is naturally comforted in the belief that, after all, men are alike—that no one of them, however much he may profess, is better than another. It is quite essential to his comfort that he cherish and fortify himself in this conviction. So, when any great scandal arises in quarters where he has found himself and his course of life condemned, he listens with ready ears, and is unmistakably glad. We say this is natural, however base and malignant it may be; but when people reputed good—nay, people professing to be Christian—shrug their virtuous shoulders and shake their feeble heads, while a foul scandal touches vitally the character of one of their own number, and menaces the extinguishment of an influence, higher or humbler, by which the world is made better, we hang our heads with shame,83or raise them with indignation. If such a thing as this is natural, it proves just one thing, viz., that these men are hypocrites. There is no man, Christian or Pagan, who can rejoice in the faintest degree over the reputed fall of any other man from rectitude, without being at heart a scamp. All this readiness to believe evil of others, especially of those who have been reputed to be eminently good, is an evidence of conscious weakness under temptation, or of conscious proclivity to vice that finds comfort in eminent companionship. There is no better test of purity and true goodness than reluctance to think evil of one's neighbor, and absolute incapacity to believe an evil report about good men except upon the most trustworthy testimony. Alas, that this large and lovely charity is so rare! But it is only with those who possess this charity that men accused of sins against society have an equal chance with those accused, under the forms of law, of crime. Every man brought to trial for crime is presumed to be innocent until he is proved to be guilty; but, with the world at large, every man slandered is presumed to be guilty until he proves himself to be innocent, and even then it takes the liberty of doubting the testimony. Every man who rejoices in a scandal thereby advertises the fact of his own untrustworthiness; and every man who is pained by it, and refuses to be impressed by it, unconsciously reveals his own purity. He cannot believe a bad thing done by one whom he regards as a good man, simply because he knows he would not do it himself. He gives credit to others for the virtue that is consciously in his own possession, while the base men around him, whether Christian in name or not, withhold that credit because they cannot believe in the existence of a virtue of which they are consciously empty. When the Master uttered the words, “Let him that is without sin among you first cast a stone at her,” he knew that none but conscious delinquents would have the disposition to do so; and when, under this rebuke, every fierce accuser retired overwhelmed, He, the sinless, wrote the woman's crime in the sand for the heavenly rains to efface. If he could do this in a case of guilt not disputed, it certainly becomes his followers to stand together around every one of their number whom malice or revenge assails with slanders to which his or her whole life gives the lie. In a world full of influences and tendencies to evil, where every good force is needed, and needs to be jealously cherished and guarded, there is no choicer treasure and no more beneficent power than a sound character. This is not only the highest result of all the best forces of our civilization, but it is the builder of those forces in society and the State. Society cannot afford to have it wasted or destroyed; and its instinct of self-preservation demands that it shall not be suffered. There is nothing so sensitive and nothing so sacred as character; and every tender charity, and loyal friendship, and chivalrous affection, and manly sentiment and impulse, ought to intrench themselves around every true character in the community so thoroughly that a breath of calumny shall be as harmless as an idle wind. If they cannot do this, then no man is safe who refuses to make terms with the devil, and he is at liberty to pick his victims where he will.—J. G. Holland; Scribner’s for January.