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and lament the prevalent tendency to think lightly of it, it is to be feared that when truth is unpopular, we do not appreciate its brilliancy or its purity sufficiently to uphold it against an attractive or embellished falsehood; nor, though it must be felt that "truth is many-sided," can it be believed that it is quite so many-sided as it is sometimes represented. And while right-simply as right-wins our admiration, even our allegiance, there is a certain counterfeit to which only too readily we transfer both; and in entering the tangled maze of expediency, soon lose the narrow path of right. Yet, even from a mercenary point of view—and this is a point of view from which everything may be regarded by those who cannot gain a higher one-this transfer is unprofitable; in the sternly simple words of a man whose poetry surely could reach the most prosaic minds,
"If we do ill, the joy fades, not the pains,
If well, the pain doth fade, the joy remains."
Again, because "nothing succeeds like success," we are apt to value it far more highly than it deserves, regardless as to whether it is the success of honest efforts, or of petty intrigue, and to bestow our more than contemptuous pity upon failure, however honourable.
In the matter of courage, too, the counterfeit has as much admiration as the true; ignoring the tremendous difference between one person's organisation and that of another, the same prompt, or decided, or unflinching action is expected, and but little allowance made for the instinctive shrinking of some natures from what may cause no painful feeling at all in others. In an essentially "Liberal" age, we affect, when we do not feel, a certain liberality of sentiment, which enables us to hold lightly any belief or principle that has aught distinctive about it, and to drop it when it is unpleasant to retain it; thus meriting justly the undisguised scorn of the foolishly overheated partisans of either side. The same mock liberality it is which enables us to " accommodate ourselves to circumstances," as it is gracefully called; even stooping to adopt practices which have the stamp of "fashion," while we know they are quite unworthy. Realising the practical wisdom of the advice, "when you are at Rome, do as they do at Rome," we are enabled to follow it to its legitimate conclusion, and "when we are elsewhere, do as they do there," thereby saving ourselves much trouble.
Again, the art of giving counsel is not learned so easily as it would need to be if all so-called advice deserved the name. The readiness
with which remedies are suggested for all evils, and the singularly coherent and practical nature of most of them, is really marvellous; quite as marvellous is the logical clearness of the wisdom which can dictate an entire course of action in any difficulty, or series of difficulties. Now the word "counsel" seems to imply some real interest in the person to whom it is addressed, also sufficient tact and discernment to adapt itself to the circumstances to which it is applied; without such tact and discernment, we might say the circumstances at which it is hurled; the generality of advice requires very little beyond a fine flow of language. We know that giving counsel is an unthankful task; perhaps it would be less unthankful if we studied the question presented to us, a little, instead of attacking it in a general sort of way, and ironing out any difficulties of position or circumstance with the weight of our imperative oratory.
Sympathy also is a gracious thing; so gracious that where it is not found, there is usually an excellent substitute, excellent, inasmuch as it is often offered, and accepted, without much regard to its real nature; for shallow lamentations can as highly appreciate discussion and petty curiosity, as quiet and earnest sympathy. Not that this counterfeit can stand any practical test, for having once heard any sad story or pitiable misfortune, curiosity is satiated; while sympathy would be eager to assist or alleviate. Perhaps, too, the usual adjuration “cheer up," is the most depressing injunction in the whole range of language, that could possibly be addressed to any one who is despondent or unhappy.
Partly because it bears the stamp of heaven's especial approval, the golden virtue, Charity, has numerous counterfeits; some so far removed from any likeness at all to the original, that only those who never beheld the real could be deceived in the imitation. First there is the ostentatious expenditure, or rather, bestowal of money where there is no claim for it whatever; a brilliantly glittering habit which often exists in conjunction with the ugly deformity of principle which obstructs the payment of debts; and which has no more affinity with charity than with justice. Then there is the "charity" which is sur rounded by a whole mechanism of plans and reports, of notes and agenda, and is enveloped in a network of restrictions and analysis; intended probably to demonstrate the utter absence of any fellow-feeling for misfortune, and the impossibility of supposing any one who has suffered it, to possess ordinary sensibilities.
Then there is that most miserable counterfeit, of leaving money to Hospitals or Institutions, instead of to friends or relations, when the possessor finds that he cannot possibly get any further good from it, nor convey it beyond the reach of others; even hoping thereby to atone for, perhaps a life of selfishness, and to merit some of the blessings bestowed upon the charitable man. The practice itself is by no means a wrong one, and it will probably be urged that money will do far more good in that way than in making a few people rich : which is perfectly true; but it may be suggested that so sensible a course is late in being adopted, if only when death shows how useless it is, wealth is thus disposed of. It may be a very sensible course of action, and done from a wise purpose; but in no sense whatever, is it charity; which involves at least some personal interest and pains, and does not consist in money, but in motive.
The proverb reminds us too, that while much that is attractive is not good, there is likewise much that is good, but not attractive. The worth and beauty of real goodness is often lost to view through the outward tarnish of a too uncompromising outspokenness, or an affectation of unconcern or discontent. Undesirable as this is, it is at least far better than the glitter of tinsel virtues; the adoption of which results in that last ghastly counterfeit, the counterfeit of a lifee-a mere existence. It is impossible to deny that some lives are utterly unworthy of any other name; they are not actively evil, perhaps, but not even passively good: nor has the course of years, nor the joys and sorrows, nor the intercourse and employments of life, taught them anything at all of the value of things; or that some, though they may be infinitely respectable, are utterly ignoble, and ought to be scorned instead of being upheld. What a grievous misuse of the time and abilities given by GOD to each one, must there have been, when years have passed away, and the distance between life and eternity is perceptibly small, and yet the mind can grasp no higher idea than the indulgence of passions or vanity; nor feel any greater delight than that afforded by the gratification of some pitiably trivial ambition. How have those hands been employed in gathering up tinsel for gold, and those perceptions been dulled, until they can recognise nothing higher or grander in life than wealth or pleasure, because they were indifferent as to what was gold, so that it glittered, or as to what was good, so that it was attractive.
The noble motto " Sans peur et sans reproche" is not one to be banished to the somewhat ridiculed age of chivalry; it is the one
which should express the aim of every one who can appreciate goodness. "Sans peur" in upholding,-not what is fashionable, what is expedient, what is most profitable; but, "whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are just; whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report :" and " sans reproche”—not in the councils of popularity, but in the inner recesses of conscience; unheeded, perhaps, by the hurrying mass of men, but known to the Eternal GOD, Who, though He stands and waits with patience, exacts from each one the record of his time and talents, written in the indelible ink of a life lived in His Sight.
Reviews and Notices.
The Old Leaven cast out. A New Church Catechism, by Mrs. R. M. Stone, (Hodges) is a title which will probably puzzle our readers; but its meaning will be explained by a Question and Answer on p. 21. “What has happened in England since ordinary wheaten bread has been used in the offering of the Holy Eucharist? Answer. Our Churches have been used as barracks and stables, the daily Sacrifice has been taken away, and our Churches shut up from Sunday to Sunday." Doubtless Mrs. Stone means well, but we cannot think that such publications do good.
To any person who may be troubled by the untechnical language of S. Luke in the description of The Voyage and Shipwreck of S. Paul in Acts XXVII. (Masters,) the corrections and notes of the Rev. J. Milner, who is a Naval Chaplain, will be found useful; but we doubt if such troubled readers are
Elementary Tracts or Treatises that are really sound in Theology cannot be too greatly multiplied, so as to reach all classes of readers. So we gladly welcome The Door of the Fold, a short Catechism that has been sent us by E. H. W., with a Preface by the Rev. Capel Cure. (Curtice & Co.)
[The Editor is not responsible for the opinions of the Correspondents.]
To the Editor of the Churchman's Companion.
NEWS FROM FARRINGIA.
SIR,-I feel sure that many will be glad to hear of the life and stir in this new station of the Pongos Mission, and
therefore I cannot refrain from giving some extracts from letters received lately by Miss Cole from the Rev. P. H. Douglin, who for thirteen years now has been labouring in this portion of the Master's vineyard. He writes from Do
mingia, dated Dec. 17th. In his first letter he says, "Mr. Brown is doing a glorious work at Farringia, he is drawing out numbers of the old people, and they are so earnest-hearted, so much in earnest, so desirous of walking in the way of GOD's commandments. I baptize a number of them at Christmastide." "His (Mr. Brown's) little urchins sing the responses after the Commandments in Susu, and the Benedicite, and the Te Deum, and Venite, and Gloria Patri in English. That will show you what work has been done. Of course the music. . . is loud and inharmonious, but it is hearty and vigorous. Arribo Nathanael (whose baptism was recorded in the first account of Farringia) is writing tolerably well in one of your copybooks."
In a subsequent letter, dated the Festival of the Epiphany, 1880, Mr. Douglin says that he baptized seven adults and one infant on Christmas Day. There were about twenty-five to be baptized, but owing to the loss of his boat he had been prevented "from giving them the requisite preparation, and he preferred to keep them a little longer, to get more enlightenment, and more spiritual understanding, and to become more experienced in the new way of living. Many get disappointed and turn back at times, but I generally get them back again." Mr. Douglin speaks most gratefully of the Ladies' Association at Clifton, which amongst other ways of supporting the Mission, sent him out four bales of goods last Autumn, full of a miscellaneous and most useful collection of clothes and reward-cards, and knives, and little private presents for the missionaries and catechists, besides a bell to be used both for church and school, and a font for Farringia. But they want their church so badly there." He then goes on to say, "I have been reading through the advertisements in some of the Church papers to see if there is any one desirous of getting rid of an iron church. I could manage to get it out free, and I think also deaden the sound of the heavy rains falling on the
roof, and also guard against the heat. A building 50 by 28 would be sufficient. Even the sides would be acceptable minus the roof." Then he goes on to tell how they had lost their best friend at Farringia," a nursing mother of the Gospel there, Mrs. Elizabeth Emerson, the eldest daughter of the old lady whose baptism was spoken of before. When we were in difficulty for a spot (for the church) she said, 'Go over my portion of land and choose any spot that will suit you, and you shall have it with all my heart. If my people's houses are on the spot they will be removed; if my crops are on it you will kindly wait till I reap them. Select the spot that is most convenient to you. The thing that one is longing and praying for when it is far from him, when it comes near to him he must not put it away from him.' We found a nice spot which neither interfered with her farm nor her people's cottages." Then the letter goes on to say that she took cold in going over to the Communicants' Class and the Service of Intercession on behalf of the adults to be baptized on Christmas Day, and died early in the new year. The old lady, the writer continues, had the coffin carried into her room for her to have a last look on her most loving and affectionate daughter. Mr. Douglin ends by thanking the Clifton Association for the way in which "finding the Mission sick and helpless and ready to die, they had taken it home to their hearts. We have all gone on our way," he says, 66 with more life and more heart. We know that we are being prayed for, that interest is being taken in us other than that of a pecuniary nature. . . . Never was more work done here than is now; never was work done more heartily and more successfully. We are to have the Bishop here next month very likely; he wants to ordain Mr. Brown at Fallangia."
One word from a short letter of Mr. Brown's, dated from Farringia. "I need not," he says, "tell you here how sadly we are in want of church appli