THE CHRISTIAN GENTLEMAN.
IT has been said that no man
can be a gentleman who is not a Christian. We
take the converse of this proposition, and say that
no man can be a Christian who is not a gentleman.
There is something of a stir among
the dry bones at this. A few eyes look at it
in a rebuking way.
“Show me that in the Bible,”
says one in confident negation of our proposition.
“Ah, well, friend, we will take
your case in illustration of our theme. You call
yourself a Christian?”
“By God’s mercy I do.”
Answered with an assured manner, as
if in no doubt as to your being a worthy bearer of
that name.
“You seem to question my state
of acceptance. Who made you a judge?”
Softly, friend. We do not like
that gleam in your eyes. Perhaps we had better
stop here. If you cannot bear the probe, let us
put on the bandage again.
“I am not afraid of the probe, sir. Go
on.”
The name Christian includes all human perfection,
does it not?
“Yes, and all God-like perfection in the human
soul.”
So we understand it. Now the
fundamental doctrine of Christian life is this:—“As
ye would that men should do unto you, do ye even so
to them.”
“Faith in Christ is fundamental,” you
answer.
Unless we believe in God, we cannot
obey his precepts. The understanding must first
assent, before the divine life can be brought into
a conformity with divine laws. But we are not
assuming theologic ground. It is the life to
which we are looking. We said “The fundamental
doctrine of Christian life.”
“All doctrine has relation to
life, and I contend for faith as fundamental.”
We won’t argue that point, for
the reason that it would lead us away from the theme
we are considering. We simply change the form
of our proposition, and call it a leading doctrine
of Christian life.
“So far I agree with you.”
Then the way before us is unobstructed
again. You asked us to show you authority in
the Bible for saying that a man cannot be a Christian
who is not a gentlemen. We point you to the Golden
Rule. In that all laws of etiquette, so called,
are included. It is the code of good breeding
condensed to an axiom. Now it has so happened
that our observation of you, friend objector, has been
closer than may have been imagined. We have noted
your outgoings and incomings on divers occasions;
and we are sorry to say that you cannot be classed
with the true gentleman.
“Sir!”
Gently! Gently! If a man
may be a Christian, and not a gentleman at the same
time, your case is not so bad. But to the testimony
of fact. Let these witness for or against you.
Let your own deeds approve or condemn. You are
not afraid of judgment by the standard of your own
conduct?
“Of course not.”
And if we educe only well-remembered
incidents, no offence will be taken.
“Certainly not.”
We go back, then, and repeat the law
of true gentlemanly conduct. “As ye would
that men should do unto you, do ye even so to them.”
You were at Stockbridge last summer?
“Yes.”
And took supper at the hotel there,
with a small company of strangers?
“Yes.”
There was a dish of fine strawberries
on the table, among the first of the season.
You are fond of strawberries. They are your favorite
fruit; and, as their rich fragrance came to your nostrils,
you felt eager to taste them. So you counted
the guests at the table, and measured the dish of
strawberries with your eyes. Then you looked
from face to face, and saw that all were strangers.
Appetite might be indulged, and no one would know
that it was you. The strawberries would
certainly not go round, So you hurried down a cup
of tea, and swallowed some toast quickly. Then
you said to the waiter, “Bring me the strawberries.”
They were brought and set before you. And now,
were you simply just in securing your share, if the
number fell below a dozen berries? You were taking
care of yourself; but in doing so, were not others’
rights invaded. We shall see. There were
eight persons at the table, two of them children.
The dish held but little over a quart; of these nearly
one-third were taken by you! Would a true gentleman
have done that? You haven’t thought of
it since! We are sorry for you then. One
of the children, who only got six berries, cried through
half the evening from disappointment. And an
invalid, whose blood would have gained life from the
rich juice of the fruit, got none.
“It was a little selfish, I
admit. But I am so fond of strawberries; and
at hotels, you know, every one must take care of himself.”
A true gentleman maintains his character
under all circumstances, and a Christian, as a matter
of course. A true gentleman defers to others.
He takes so much pleasure in the enjoyment of others,
that he denies himself in order to secure their gratification.
Can a Christian do less and honor the name he bears?
“It wasn’t right, I see.”
Was it gentlemanly?
“No.”
Christian?
“Perhaps not, strictly speaking.”
In the gall of bitterness and the
bonds of iniquity still, we fear, for all your profession.
Christianity, as a system, must go deeper down into
the heart than that. But we have begun with you,
friend, and we will keep on. Perhaps you will
see yourself a little differently by the time we are
through. A poor mechanic, who had done some trifling
work at your house, called, recently, with his little
bill of three dollars and forty cents. You were
talking with a customer, when this man came into your
store and handed you his small account. You opened
it with a slight frown on your brow. He had happened
to come at a time when you felt yourself too much
engaged to heed this trifling matter. How almost
rudely you thrust the coarse, soiled piece of paper
on which he had written his account back upon him,
saying, “I can’t attend to you now!”
The poor man went out hurt and disappointed.
Was that gentlemanly conduct? No, sir! Was
it Christian? Look at the formula of Christian
life. “As ye would that men should do unto
you, do ye even so to them.”
“He should have waited until
I was at leisure,” you answer. “When
a man is engaged with a customer who buys at the rate
of hundreds and thousands, he don’t want paltry
bills thrust into his face. He’ll know
better next time.”
Have you settled the bill yet?
“No. He called day before
yesterday, but couldn’t give change for ten
dollars.”
Why haven’t you sent him the
trifling sum? He worked over half a day at your
house, and your family have been more comfortable for
what he did there ever since. He needs the money,
for he is a poor man.
You half smile in our face at the
suggestion, and say, “Merchants are not in the
habit of troubling themselves to send all over the
city to pay the little paltry bills of mechanics.
If money is worth having, it is worth sending or calling
for.”
In thought, reverse your positions,
and apply the rule for a Christian gentleman; remembering,
at the same time, that God is no respecter of persons.
In his eyes, the man’s position is nothing—the
quality of his life, everything.
A gentleman in form, according
to the rules of good breeding, is one who treats everybody
with kindness; who thinks of others’ needs,
pleasures and conveniences; and subordinates his own
needs, pleasures and conveniences to theirs.
He is mild, gentle, kind and courteous to all.
A gentleman in feeling does all this from a
principle of good-will; the Christian from a law
of spiritual life. Now, a man may be a gentleman,
in the common acceptation of the term, and yet not
be a Christian; but we are very sure, that he cannot
wave the gentleman and be a Christian.
You look at us more soberly.
The truth of our words is taking hold of conviction.
Shall we go on?
Do you not, in all public places,
study your own comfort and convenience? You do
not clearly understand the question! We’ll
make the matter plainer then:
Last evening you were at Concert Hall,
with your wife and daughter. You went early,
and secured good seats. Not three seats, simply,
according to the needs of your party; but nearly five
seats, for extra comfort. You managed it on the
expansive principle. Well, the house was crowded.
Compression and condensation went on all around you;
but your party held its expanded position. A white-haired
old man stood at the head of your seat, and looked
down at the spaces between yourself, your wife and
daughter; and though you knew it, you kept your eyes
another way until he passed on. You were not
going to be incommoded for any one. Then an old
lady lingered there for a moment, and looked wistfully
along the seat. Your daughter whispered, “Father,
we can make room for her.” And you answered:
“Let her find another seat; I don’t wish
to be crowded.” Thus repressing good impulses
in your child, and teaching her to be selfish and
unlady-like. The evening’s entertainment
began, and you sat quite at ease, for an hour and
a half, while many were standing in the aisles.
Sir, there was not even the gentleman in form here;
much less the gentleman from naturally kind feelings.
As to Christian principle, we will not take that into
account. Do you remember what you said as you
moved through the aisles to the door?
“No.”
A friend remarked that he had been
obliged to stand all the evening, and you replied:
“We had it comfortable enough.
I always manage that, in public places.”
He didn’t understand all you
meant; but, there is One who did.
How was it in the same place only
a few nights previously? You went there alone,
and happened to be late. The house was well filled
in the upper portion, but thinly occupied below the
centre. Now you are bound to have the best place,
under all circumstances, if it can be obtained.
But all the best seats were well filled; and to crowd
more into them, would be to diminish the comfort of
all. No matter. You saw a little space in
one of the desirable seats, and into it you passed,
against the remonstrance of looks, and even half uttered
objections. A lady by your side, not in good health,
was so crowded in consequence, and made so uncomfortable,
that she could not listen with any satisfaction to
the eloquent lecture she had come to hear.
We need say no more about your gentlemanly
conduct in public places. Enough has been suggested
to give you our full meaning.
Shall we go on? Do you call for
other incidents in proof of our assumption? Shall
we follow you into other walks of life?
“No.”
Very well. And, now, to press
the matter home: Do you, in the sight of that
precept we have quoted, justify such conduct in a man
who takes the name of Christian? It was not gentlemanly,
in any right sense of the word; and not being so,
can it be Christian?
“Perhaps not.”
Assuredly not. And you may depend
upon it, sir, that your profession, and faith, and
church-going, and ordinance-observing, will not stand
you in that day when the book of your life is opened
in the presence of God. If there has been no genuine
love of the neighbor—no self-abnegation—no
self-denial for the good of others, all the rest will
go for nothing, and you will pass over to abide forever
with spirits of a like quality with your own.
Who made us your judge? We judge
no man! But only point to the law of Christian
life as given by God himself. If you wish to dwell
with him, you must obey his laws; and obedience to
these will make you nothing less than a Christian
gentleman—that is, a gentleman in heart
as well as in appearance.