Beware of Men

Take this advice and your steps will be ordered wisely. As a young man you will naturally take a hopeful view of everybody, and be disposed to give your confidence without asking much, in the way of indemnification. It is not pleasant to me to awaken suspicion in an unsophisticated mind; yet as every man’s experience should be regarded as a fund for the benefit of society, I must force myself to point out a few traits of character which you may expect to meet in the course of your ministry, and which will invariably signify what is bad. I have sometimes thought that the Christian ministry developed human character in a way strictly peculiar to itself. The feeling subsisting between pastor and people differs from almost every other feeling. The minister enjoys the freedom of his people’s hearts, if they be true to him; where other counsellors would be treated with stubbornness he is met in a spirit of conciliation; himself the representative of the Cross, he is regarded as bringing with him all the calming and rectifying considerations which attach to the highest form of self-crucifixion; hence men will often yield to his word through veneration for the blessed Master whose interests he is supposed ever to represent. Under such circumstances they will either show the very best aspects of their character, or they

Q 2 will cloke themselves under the most detestable simulation. As I have undertaken to deal with some of the darker shades of character that will surprise you in the course of your ministry, I think it right to claim your attention to a preliminary word on the other side. After a course of pastoral service extending over more than seventeen years, it would be unjust on my part if I did not most gratefully and cordially acknowledge that there are in nonconformist churches many most noble-minded men. I have been made their deep debtor in many instances; on occasions without number I have witnessed their steadfastness in the faith, their self-denying and zealous perseverance in Christian service, and their high-minded honour in cases in which by dexterous temporising they could have escaped difficulty and loss. Were I to commit myself to a pourtrayal of the excellencies which have come directly under my own observation, I know not when the sunny picture would be completed; you will not understand me, therefore, as writing in a cynical or unthankful spirit, but in a spirit of” honest criticism, without fear and without malice. It is with deep reluctance that I put aside for a moment the happy memories which form by far the largest part of the ministerial scenes through which I have passed; it pains me to ask even one friend to stand aside until I point out the blemishes which disfigure this character or that, yet I must as your guide be faithful, and lead you through shaded valleys when I would gladly linger with you where the light is brightest.

In the course of my ministry I have met with men who have concealed their true dispositions imder a thick coating of false amiahility. In my early ministerial course

I was much victimised by smiling men. The young heart refused to disbelieve the sincerity of a pleasant voice or a cheerful countenance. I remember one man, a minister too, who concealed the heart of a wolf under the wool of a lamb; and as his characteristics were so broad, I may remark upon him as the type of the men whom I have now more particularly in view. His great weapon was flattery, and his most successful flatteries were lies. He sought to open his way in society by the key of indiscriminate praise. Hardworking men were cheered by his commendations, unsuspecting women were won to confidence by is beguiling attentions, poor men were flattered by his patronage, and rich men were occasionally befooled by his compliments. His face was always putting on a smile which he intended to be fascinating, and his voice was artistically softened to suit the ear of his devoted prey. In fact, he called himself “an artist,” and prided himself on successes which honest men instinctively regarded as crimes.; with him, to fail in selfpromotion was an unpardonable sin.

^’ Man,^’ he would say to me with a feigned and mocking laugh, the recollection of which makes me shudder, you should not speak out so boldly, you should do as I do if you would get influence in the denomination .■*’

When I repelled the proposition with indignant disdain he would repeat his horrid laugh, and say, —

“That is all very well, but I have a cunning way of getting behind fellows, and warming them up into my notions; I go in for the artistic side of life, — I never oSend a man as long as I can get anything out of him.-*^

‘’ Then I hate your policy,” said I; “there a nothing I would not do to get at the truth.”

230 Ad Cleriim: Advices to a Young Preacher,

Dont mistake me/^ lie would add in an altered voice; “I know what I am about with these fine fellows: dont you see how I do? I smile upon them and get everything out of them; but if they turn awkward in my hand, I soon let them feel the poleaxe: men tell me things in confidence, and I assure you it is a fine thing to have a sting in your box for every man, it keeps him quiet you know.”

‘■^ You wretch! “said I; ^’ that is the creed of a murderer;” and from that day I abhorred and disowned him.

Yet you will be surprised how that man holds on his crooked course to this day, and how many honest men he holds in his well arranged but most cruel coils. His deluded victims have told me he “shows such a Christian spirit,” that “he never says an unkind word against me,” that he “holds out the white flag of truce “; and I sufi*er under the imputation of being less magnanimous than he! I glory in the imputation, knowing the falseness of the man; God has given me power to look into the deep den of the wretched heart, and truly it is full of unclean and venomous reptiles. This is the language of the most dispassionate charity. I write it in the interests of truth and of social honour, and with the sobriety and self-rtraint of a man who appeals to the judgment seat of Christ. I am aware how difficult it is to maintain a position like this by mere argument; you can hardly believe in the possibility of such dissimulation; you feel that my statement must be, perhaps unconsciously, exaggerated by resentment; your love of truth, your honour, your charity, will not allow you to believe that any professedly Christian man could act in the way described. I

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do not complain of your incredulity; it is natural, and it is creditable. Meet me ten years hence, and we shall talk on more equal terms. In the meantime do be careful not to commit yourself to men on the mere ground of their amiability. I have suffered more from simulated amiability than from any other cause; it has betrayed my confidence, it has lured me into dangerous paths, it has disappointed my best expectations, it has wounded and exasperated my most generous sensibilities. Think of a man calling you his” dear pastor,^^ and then condemning you to your friends or to strangers; or think of him praying for you as ‘^ Thy dear and honoured servant our beloved pastor,’^ and then complaining that your saWy is too large; or think of him pledging the most cordial friendship, and avowing the most entire disinterestedness in a trade transaction, and all the while having ten per cent upon all that he does for you; or think of him involving you in deep obligations by making you the most solemn promises, and when you ask him to redeem his promises telling you that now your friendship must cease. Can you bear any more? Then think’ of oJBBce-bearers wishing you a happy holiday, and immediately summoning your hearers to take counsel as to the best way of getting rid of your ministry. But I forbear. Such things have happened in the experience of ministers whom I have known, and for that reason I feel that it is quite within my duty to put you on your guard against the amiability which may conceal the worst degrees of evil mindedness. You will not misunderstand me as saying anything against amiability; amiability is a Christian grace, and as such should be cultivated and displayed in all the intercourse of life: but in proportion to its value is the temptation to its perYersion; were it less Divine it would be less enlisted in the service of the devil.

In the course of my ministry I have met with men who have tuished to enjoy the goodwill of all parties. Such men ought not to be spoken of indiscriminately, yet it is not easy to classify them. One section may be described as simply timid, — another as selfish timeservers. The timid man is very difficult to understand. In the sunshine he will be as bold as a lion, he will even venture to talk about ‘’ nailing his colours to the mast ‘^; and in private, where no one but the minister hears him, he will go any length in committing himself to the ministerial cause. Nor do I think him insincere in doing so; he is faithful to his mood; his full intention is to take the very next lion by the beard and to slay the beast with a stroke, yet when the said lion puts in an unexpected appearance the timid man prudently gets out of the way with all dispatch. I have known some men who really could not fight; men of distinguished excellence of character, willing to give any amount of money and to render any extent of service, provided there be no controversy; they would hardly contend even for the right, they would give for it, worlc for it, pray for it, but never fight for it. If the minister came into collision with any of the people, his timid supporters would quietly move off to the seaside until the result was known; if the minister felt himself called upon to engage in unpopular controversy, the said friends would never be found at his side; but if he succeeded in turning the popular current into his favour they would boldly acknowledge that controversy has its uses, and that Christian ministers are bound to contend earnestly for the faith once delivered unto the saints. They will

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go even farther: if public excitement be turned in favour of the minister, if be become the hero of the hour, if newspapers extend his reputation, and if great men give honour to his name, the timid friends who deeply felt the necessity for sea aix at the beginning of the fight will courageously suggest in a very private meeting whether a testimonial ought not to be presented to the champion of great principles. And in both cases the timid friends will be quite sincere; the simple fact is they cannot overcome their natural timidity, they cannot bring their moral courage abreast of their moral impulses to tuill is present with them, but how to perform they fund not. I have often had occasion to hear of the unhappy consequences of defective courage, especially in the working out of the most republican forms of ecclesiastical life. Take the case of an Independent church in which there is some division of opinion upon an important question, and the course of events will probably be as follows: a few talkative, self confident, and pertinacious individuals will lead the opposition; around them will be gathered half-a-dozen yoaths (apprentices, clerks, and errand-boys) who have studied the art of impertinence in what are called mutual improvement societies,’’^ and who are just eloquent enough to cry out “hear, hear,^^ and “fair play,^’ when the elder opponents are being hard driven; when such a state of afiairs arises, nearly every man of intelligence and good feeling Till absent himself from the church meeting; men and women who are desirous to cultivate spiritual mindedness, and who wish the church to be the centre of their happiest associations, will not subject themselves to the annoyance and exasperation of carping and malicious criticism; — hence it may be perfectly possible to pass a resolution at a church meeting, and to pass it unanimously, from wliicli all the educated, refined, and earnest members of the cliurcli most strongly and determinedly dissent. You will say this is a most anomalous state of affairs, and I allow it; yet it is matter of fact, and admits, I think, of easy explanation. In proportion as any man lives a deeply spiritual life will be sbrink from frivolous debate, and especially from offering opposition to the Cbristian ministry;, be willbaveno taste for resolutions and counter-resolutions, for committees and subcommittees, for amendments and riders; be bas a nobler and diviner idea of cburcb life, and nothing will tempt him from bis bigb eminence to mingle in the dusty frays wbicb occasionally disgrace the working out of ecclesiastical republicanism. This is, on some grounds, to be regretted; the minister often suffers most painful injury by it; be is left in the bands of a few men wbo are quite capable of driving rougbly over all the sensibilities that have been refined by bigb education and deep communion with the Spirit of truth, and whilst be may have the sympathy of the largest and best portion of bis people, be is left to smart under an official resolution wbicb may have all the efiect of a virtual falsebood. You will say that the men wbo could pass such a resolution ought not to be in the cburcb; this is true, but unfortunately we have to sufier from facts and not to discuss opinions. With all the supposed care with wbicb the gates of cburcb membersbip are guarded, low minded and wortbless men do secure public standing, and as they are men wbo have nothing to lose they are often reckless in their opposition. They regard the cburcb as a kind of debating club; their piety is limited to impious discussions; they think the cliurcli is dead if a stirring controversy is not proceeding, and that the world is in mortal danger of damnation if the ballot box and the sub-committee are not

in constant requisition. Rely upon it, these are not timid men; they are rather what the apostle Peter describes as ‘^ natural brute beasts made to be taken and destroyed,” ^I refer to them, though with infinite repugnance, merely to show how little the minister has to hope for from timid suyporters. The coarse men will always be foremost, to them a fight is a revival, a secession is a means of grace, and a change of ministry is a gracious device of Providence. Now, between the very boisterous and the very timid men there is a class that attempts to please all parties; the members of this class are often very clever; by a nod they can encourage the opposition, by a smile they can cheer the timid, by a shake of the hand they can strengthen the minister, and by a shake of the head they can aid those who are seeking to drive the minister away. There is undoubtedly great versatility of power in all this, and the most perfect security too; for who can publish a nod? who can report a smile as an item of denominational intelligence? what is the practical value of a shake of the hand? and how many contradictory ways are there of shaking a head that has nothing in it? The all-pleasers do not commit themselves by speech or writing, they express themselves with a significance which admits of no repetition, and defend themselves by a look of surprise which may be made to mean anything the observer pleases. This manifestation of character will often distress you. As a man of God, you will demand truth, honour, coui’age, and ‘individuality of conviction, in those who claim you as their pastor; but I forewarn you, in the recollection of many a bitter disappointment, that there are staves that look strong and trusty, that will break when you lean upon them, and pierce your bands!

In the course of my ministry I have met with men tvJio, witJwut intending it, have put hindrances in the way oj my ivorh. Chief among these have been over zealous defenders. I dont know bow it is with other men, but to me it is an infinite nuisance to be defended. Some kindbearted people have told me with an air of intense self satisfaction that they have “defended me tbrougb tbick and tbin,’’^ — whatever beigbt of insanity that expression may be intended to signify. Over zealous defenders don’t appear to see that they actually provoke opposition. Men like to torment them; reports are taken to them by men wbo have a comical vein in their nature, and are with mock solemnity submitted for confirmation or denial; dull hours are enlivened by quizzical comments upon the ministry, and harmless inquiries are put with well simulated anxiety to know the truth. Instantly the over zealous defender takes fire, and soon puts himself by extravagant statements into the bands of bis friendly tormentors. I advise you to ask your friends never to defend you; beg them to let you alone; assure them that when you need defence you need to be put an end to. I do not know whether your friends might not occasionally be permitted a disdainful retort upon your critics, for I believe in disdain as the best answer to some evil questions. I know a boy who defended bis father in the best possible manner; said boy was in the habit of expressing himself somewhat quaintly on things in general, so much so that he had quite a local reputation as a budding genius; on one occasion whilst visiting the boys in a neighbour’s house the head of the family (a very stiff and important personage) took opportunity of putting the young philosopher to the test. ‘^ So,” said he in a grave and dignified manner,, ^’ they tell me my boy that your father drinks? ‘’ The youth (whose upper lip is singularly expressive of scorn) turned upon him with the utmost, quietness and said, “You great daft thing!” Not a word more; it was enough. In that way I should like ever to be defended: first, so to live as to be like the boy’s father, above suspicion; and then to be so trusted and beloved as to expose all slanderers to the just charge of being “great daft things.” I prefer abuse to defence. Undeserved abuse always does a man good; defence is almost sure to do him unintended injury. Count it a blessed day in your ministerial history when low minded men write against you in the newspapers, and speak against you in the social circles; the time for doing good has then come: but when the devil is quiet, when he 5s treating you with indifference, when he does not think it worth while to set his very least imp upon you, be sure there is something wanting in the energy with which you strike him. The probability is that the over zealous defender will also be the over zealous reporter; this you will find to your cost when he comes to you with tale after tale, not one of which is worthy of a moment’s attention, but all of which taken together may irritate and unsettle you. The officious though well disposed reporter will say, “You know, sir, one can’t help hearing those things;” ‘’the other day I was compelled to hear so and so: “‘’ of course, having a place of business in the very middle of the town, a good many people drop in and tell me things I should not otherwise liear;” of course you know, sir, I don’t tell you these things to trouble you; it is only to put you on your guard that I venture to name them; ‘’ and in this self excusing, yet self deluding manner the poor man constitutes himself into the very sewer of the church, and imagines that he is doing service to his minister I I have known not a few good men pestered in this way. Things they ought never to

have heard have been carefully told them by indiscreet sympathisers, and in moments of despondency such things have been exaggerated by nervous apprehensions, and so a thoughtless friendship has given them more pain than open enmity. On this matter I have two simple pieces of advice to offer you — first of all, never believe a word you hear. Be sure a tone has been altered or missed, a circumstance has been altogether forgotten or mistaken, so that the meaning of the original speaker has been lost, and that consequently if he were to hear the tale to which his own name is attached he would be amazed at his own cleverness or knavery. It is next to impossible to relate anything exactly as it was first told. Every word may be carefully repeated, yet the savour may be lost; the bottle may have been steadily carried, yet as the glass stopper has been exchanged for a common cork the spirit of the contents has exhaled. To this recommendation of universal disbelief let me add a second piece of advice — never defend yourself. I know what the ardent young minister is apt to do. Immediately that he hears of some unlucky man who has been criticising his sermons he makes it his business to wait on the unhappy critic and to pummel him well by a high wrought defence of himself and his method of preaching, lie turns on the great wheel for the purpose of killing a fly, and the probability is that lie cannot stop the wheel when the magnificent slaughter has been accomplished. Or there is another way in which the young enthusiast may attempt self vindication, he loaij stand upon his dignity when he meets offenders. He may speak to them coldly, he may hold them at arms length; he may assume the most chilling airs of haughty self reliance; and a hundred other foolish things he may do. Now, my dear sir, hear me; don’t stand on your dignity; please dont stand on your dignity; forget your dignity; leave your dignity at home, and be a Christian gentleman. A Christian gentleman never stands on his dignity, and therefore he is never undignified. Suppose you stand on your dignity, what then? Why, of course, Mrs. Tallowchandler will stand on hei- dignity, so will Mrs. Laundress, so will Mrs. Charwoman; you will all stand on your dignity, and your fall into the ditch will be all the greater for your elevation. There is yet a third way in which a fiery youth may put in a word for himself; he may rush into print. In a blaze of indignation he declares his intention not to be put down. “No,’^ says he, “I shall appeal to a discriminating public!” The excited youth forgets that the public is not discriminating; the public is an overgrown fussy baby, so busy weaving cotton and selling potatoes as not to care one iota who is right and who is wrong in an ecclesiastical brawl. Never print whilst you are angry; and whether you are angry or not, never print anything in your own defence. Print poetry, because nobody will read it; print sermons, for that is the most decent form of burial; but never print personal defences, because every gossip in the neighbourhood will buy your hot preparations and scald you with them some other day. May you know the blessedness of those who Lave neither pens nor ink, who never condescend to write a letter, and who hold original composition in contempt. •’Twill save you from a thousand snares, to throw your pens away.

I shall take my own advice, at least for the present; so let my final word be upon the desirableness of not committing yourself to anybody. Never tell all you know. Never mix yourself with the petty confidences of chques. Dine as seldom as possible in company, especially in company with the members of your own congregation. Select your friends with the most critical care, and when you find a really true man give him your heart, let him feel the influence of a strong deep love, and he will prize JOU.Y confidence when he knows that it is not indiscriminately bestowed. I am afraid you will think me somewhat severe, yet I make my appeal to time. I have trusted many, I have found a few chosen men in whose keeping my very life would be perfectly safe; yet looking at the breadth of a lifetime, I feel constrained to repeat the Saviours words, “Beware of men.”