CHAPTER XIII.

CHARITY AND LOVE-NO COMPENSATION FOR THE ABSENCE OFNO FAILURE OF.

WE must have noticed, in the course of our reading of the Epistle to the Romans, how, after the apostle had argued with all the force, and consistency, and conclusiveness of a logician, he suddenly breaks forth, in the 8th chapter of that same Epistle to the Romans, in strains of far more than human eloquence, and gives a picture, by way of summing up the results of all the discussion, of the privileges, the joys, the happiness, the prospects, of the believer, which has no parallel, perhaps, in any other portion of the New Testament Scriptures. We noticed, in reading this Epistle, that he had had a long discussion with the Corinthians about their strifes-"I am of Paul; I of Apollos; I of Cephas;" about their pride in their gifts, their boasting of their graces, their envyings and quarrels even at the Communion-table itself. And, in the last chapter, we see how beautifully he argued that each Christian had his place under Christ, the direct Head, just as each limb of the body has its function and its vitality from the head, the source of all nervous energy and power. But in this chapter, he breaks forth into strains of impassioned eloquence, into language of the richest poetry, where one does not know which to admire

most, the poet, the rhetorician, or the Christian apostle; or rather the inspiration that gave them all their value, their direction, and their lessons.

He begins this chapter-and you will only see the force and beauty of it by referring to the condition of the people to whom it was addressed-by saying, You have been all quarrelling about which has the greatest gifts. One has been saying that speaking in tongues is the greatest gift; another has been stating that prophecy is the greatest gift. Well, says the apostle, though I should speak with the tongues of gifted men, and in strains of angelic eloquence, ringing upon earth like music from the skies; though I had a gift such as that which you applaud and admire so much, but were destitute of that which ought to be its inspiration, and which is far nobler than it allcharity-I am become as sounding brass; literally, a cymbal struck against, or a brass instrument, made to vibrate; no note, no melody, no expression of sentiment, or continuity of song.

He says, You have been all quarrelling about your gifts of prophecy-and those who have prophecy think it is the noblest gift—either the power of predicting future events, or the power of expounding God's mind in reference to present events. Well, he says, though I had that gift of prophecy, and though I could grasp the mysteries of the height and the mysteries of the depth, inscrutable to mortal intellect, and though I had all knowledge, and though I had all faith, so that I could remove mountains-that is, miraculous faith-yet if I have no love, I am nothing. A Rabbi was called by the Jews an uprooter of mountains; that was the highest and the most exalted epithet

they could give him. If I had all faith, so that I could remove mountains, but if I had not love, to inspire that faith, and to regulate that gift of prophecy, I am as nothing. "And though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and though I give my body to be burned, and have not charity, it profiteth me nothing." That phrase, "Bestow all my goods; "though I dole out in ceaseless little grains all the estate that I have, yet I am not doing real charity; it is so applicable to some of the convents, where immense stores of wealth have been treasured up, wealth not got in ways the most honest; and doled out to swarms of beggars that come every day to the gates, in little farthings; which is supposed to be charity. Now, as a piece of practical conduct, it is a failure; all half-pence given upon the streets are notoriously a bonus upon thieving or stealing, and pocketpicking, or sensual indulgence; all half-pence given out at monasteries in that way, it is well known, are a bonus upon begging; and beggars increase as they are relieved in that style. But, says the apostle, even if I had that charity to the poor which is here expressed by giving all that I have to the poor, and yet if I had not this charity which he is here speaking of, it is nothing. And even, he adds, "though I give my body to be burned, and have not charity, it profiteth me nothing." Does not that show that mere martyrdom is not the seal and the evidence of truth for which it is endured, or the seal and evidence of true devotedness in him that endures it? Many a Hindoo lies down beneath the wheels of the idol car, and is crushed to death; but he is not a martyr. Many a saint in the calendars of Rome has undergone an

amount of torture absolutely incredible, till flesh and blood sank beneath the ceaseless infliction; but yet he was not a martyr. It is not the breath that the man gives out, but the cause for which he gives it out, that constitutes a martyr; it is not the suffering of the man, but it is the divine end and object for which he suffers, that makes his life holy, and his death an acceptable martyrdom. From this part of the passage we may gather this, that the word here, "charity," cannot mean what is vulgarly understood by it. Unhappily, we have appropriated the word to merely one fruit of charity; that is, almsgiving. There were three words that were used among the Greeks in this sense. There was one which denoted human affection, as cherished by one to another. There was another, which was a sort of friendship interchanged from one member of society to another, and supposed to bind together all the citizens of the state or of the city into one. There was φιλανθρωπία, the origin of our word philanthropy, which means the love of man. Now all these three words together, combined in one, scarcely reach the intensity of meaning in the Greek word employed in this chapter; άyán. This Greek word does not occur in heathen writers at all; the verb occurs, but the noun does not occur. It means love to man, springing out of love to God; love to God first, love to man next; the outgrowth of an inspired divine principle and passion in the heart and mind of a regenerated Christian. Now, then, he shows that there may be gifts of speech, and yet no love; that there may be the gift of prophecy, so that a man may preach like an angel and speak like Demosthenes, and yet be no real living religion;

that there may be such philanthropy, that you give all your goods to the poor, and yet you may not have love. There may be such capacity of suffering, such love of one citizen to another, and readiness of one to suffer for another, that you will give your very body to be burned, and yet you may not have love.

And then he proceeds to describe what it is; as he has given the negative, and shown how much you may feel of different emotions in reference to different classes of men, and yet not have love; he proceeds to define what it is. Here are its characteristics. "It suffereth long, and is kind." It will bear to be reproached, maligned, misrepresented, caricatured, and ill-treated; and it will not give up being kind almost till the last breath. What a beautiful affection is "It suffereth long!" How contrary is human nature! The moment you are insulted, the spark is struck, and all your passions are on fire; such is human nature. But if you possess this divine love, you will suffer long, bear many blows, and smitten on the one cheek, you will turn the other; plundered of one robe, you will give up the other. You will suffer long, and still show kindness; and the last thing you will give up will be kindness to a fellow-creature, even when he smites, and persecutes, and reproaches you. Then he says, "Charity envieth not." What a beautiful trait ! What is the condition of poor human nature? The humbler classes treading on the heels of the higher; human nature, too lazy to exert itself, anxious to bring the upper ones down, instead of striving, which is legitimate, to bring the lower ones up. Envy, of all passions, is the most abominable. The man who has ambition, you can almost forgive; he seeks to raise