Things That Are Lovely
Othing that is not beautiful is fit for a place in a Christly life. Strength is essential, but strength need not be rugged and uncomely; art has learned to give it graceful form. Truth and honesty, justice and right are prime elements in a worthy life, but they need not be unbeautiful. Sometimes, it is true, we see men in whom these great qualities are strongly marked, yet in whom beauty is lacking. Some even boast of being blunt men, meaning that they say what they think, not caring how they may say it. But there is no reason why any sturdy quality of character should be wanting in loveliness. We may clothe the homeliest virtue in garments of grace. We may be honest and yet gentle and kindly. We may be true and live very sweetly. In a cluster of “whatsoevers” indicating the
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principal qualities in an ideal character, Saint Paul includes “whatsoever things are lovely.” Perhaps it has been too much the habit in Christian teachers to overlook beauty as an essential feature of a complete life. Christ, who is always to be our model, was “altogether lovely.” He was strong, and true, and just, and righteous, but there was no flaw in his character, no defect in his life. We should never tolerate in ourselves anything that is not beautiful.
Some things are not lovely. There are ways that are not winning. There are people whose personality is not attractive. They fail to draw others to them. They neither make close friends nor keep friends. They may be good in the general fabric of their character — honest, truthful, upright, just. No one could condemn them or charge them with anything really wrong. Yet they are not lovable in their dispositions. There is something in them that hinders their popularity, that mars their influence, that interferes with their usefulness.
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Simplicity is one clement in loveliness. Artificiality is never beautiful. There are many people who suffer greatly in their lives by reason of their affectations. They are unnatural in their manners. They seem always to be acting under the restraint of rules. It was said the other day of a good man that he talks even in common conversation as if he were delivering an oration. There are some who use a great deal of exaggerated language in complimenting their friends, even in expressing the most commonplace feelings. There are those whose very walk shows a studied air, as if they were conscious of a certain importance, a burden of greatness, thinking that wherever they appear everybody’s eyes follow them with a sort of admiration and worship. All affectations in manner, in speech, in dress, in bearing, in disposition, are unlovely. They are classed with insincerities. Only the simple, unaffected, natural life is truly beautiful. Selfishness is unlovely. It has many ways, too, of showing itself. Indeed, it cannot be hid — it crops out continually, in act and word [19]
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and disposition. There are those who are disobhging, never willing to put themselves out to do a favor or to show a kindness to others. They may talk unselfishly, protesting their interest in people and their friendship for them, but when the test comes self asserts itself. Selfishness is simply the absence of love — love seeketh not its own. Unselfishness is lovely. It does not count the cost of sei-ving. It loves unto the uttermost and never fails in helpfulness. It thinks of others, not only as of itself, but, like the Master, forgets itself altogether. This old lesson, old as the Christ himself, is rephrased in this fragment of conversation in one of Anthony Hope’s books: “‘Life isn’t taking in only; it’s giving out, too. And it’s not giving out only words or deeds or things we’ve made. It’s giving ourselves out, too — fully, freely.’” ‘Giving ourselves out.^’
“‘Yes, to other people. Giving ourselves in comradeship, in understanding, in joy, in love. Fancy not having found that out before!’” Another lovely attribute in the Christian [20]
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life is peace. It never worries. It is never fretted. It is quiet, not noisy. It is the quality of a self-disciplined life. Hurry is always unbeautiful. The lovely life is never in haste, yet never loiters. It is self-poised. If women knew how much a quiet, self-controlled manner means in the making up of a winsome personality, they would seek for it more than for great riches. Nervous flurry, especially in a woman, is unlovely. It shows itself in flustered manners, in hasty and ofttimes rash speech, too often in ungoverned temper. The exhortation, “Be ambitious to be quiet,” does not refer merely to speech, but especially tO the inner spirit, to the manner, to the whole bearing of the life.
Nothing is lovelier in life than the spirit of contentment. Fretting mars the beauty of many a face. Discontent spoils all one’s world. Out of whatever window he looks the discontented person sees something that is not pleasing. If there be a contented mind there is only good seen everywhere. The happiest homes in the world are not those in which are [21] m)t tmon of lobe
the finest carpets, the costHest pictures, the most luxurious furniture, but those in which glad, happy hearts dwell. A mind at rest glorifies the plainest surroundings and even the hardest conditions. Saint Paul was in a prison when he wrote: “I have learned, in whatsoever state I am, therein to be content.” The secret was in himself. “I once talked with a Rosicrucian about the Great Secret,” said Addison. “He talked of it as a spirit that lived in an emerald, and converted everything that was near it to the highest perfection. ‘It gives lustre to the sun,’ he said, ‘and water to the diamond. It irradiates every metal, and enriches lead with the property of gold. It brightens smoke into flame, flame into light, and light into glory. A single ray dissipates pain and care from the person on whom it falls.’ Then I found his great secret was Content.”
Love is the great master-secret of all beautiful things in character; love deals also with the manner of life’s expression, as well as with its acts. Many good deeds are done in a very [22]
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unbeautiful way. Some people do kindnesses in such an unfitting way that those they help wish they had not tried to help them. There is a great deal of thoughtlessness, too, in many people. They love their friends and are ready to do for them anything the friends need, even at much cost or great sacrifice, but they fail utterly in the amenities and graces which together are the charm and sweetener of all beautiful helpfulness. Love in the heart should always inspire whatsoever things are lovely in behavior, in conduct, in disposition; and nothing that gives pain to others, either in act, word, tone, or manner, can be lovely. Self-love is the secret of many of the most unlovely things in disposition, in character, in conduct. A writer says: “All extreme sensitiveness, fastidiousness, suspicion, readiness to take offence, and tenacity of what we think our due, come from self-love, as does the unworthy secret gratification we sometimes feel when another is humbled or mortified; the cold indifference, the harshness of our criticism, the unfairness and hastiness of our judgments, our [23]
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bitterness toward those we dislike, and many other faults which must more or less rise up before most men’s conscience, when they question it sincerely as to how far they do indeed love their neighbors as Christ has loved them.”
We are told that love “doth not behave itself unseemly.” There are many things which cannot be said to be sinful, which are yet unseemly. They are not beautiful. They are unrefined. All displays of uncontrolled temper are unbecoming, unfit. All harsh and unkind words are unmeet. Rudeness in every form is out of harmony with the spirit of love.
The matter of manners should never be regarded as unimportant. Expression is a true index of character. In reading and speaking, a great deal depends upon pronunciation, accent, emphasis, tone, and the fine shadings of the voice which help in interpreting thought, feeling, emotion. To a refined and cultivated ear, defects in expression, inelegances in utterance, are painful. The charm of good elo- [24]
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quence lies in its simplicity, its naturalness, its niceties of expression, and in its true interpretation of thought. Beautiful living, in like manner, is not only refined and cultivated, but also interprets truly what is best and most beautiful in the heart.
Anything unseemly is a worse marring in a woman than in a man. Men are of a coarser grain than women, of more common material. Unseemly things do not appear so unseemly in a man as in a woman. It is expected that every woman shall be beautiful, not only in her character, but also in her behavior, not only in what she does, but in the way she does it. There are books which claim to tell people how to behave, but true refinement cannot be learned from even the best of these. There is many a woman who is thoroughly familiar with the rules and requirements of society, whose life is full of unseemly things. A young woman writes that on three successive Sundays she heard three different preachers, and that each of them spoke very earnestly on the importance of self-control. This [25]
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persistent recurrence of the same lesson had set her to thinking of the subject, and she wrote with some alarm regarding her own lack of self-mastery. She saw that she had been allowing herself to fall into certain habits which are very unseemly, which are marring the sweetness of her disposition and making her disagreeable. She is living in a boarding-house, and she began to see that she had been behaving herself in a very selfish way toward her hostess. She had permitted herself to become exacting and critical, finding fault with everything. She had been acting like a peevish, fretful child, losing her temper and giving way to her feelings in a most unseemly fashion.
This young woman’s frank confession of the faults into which she sees that she has drifted shows how unconscious we may be of unseemly things in our life and conduct. Othey people see them, however, though we do not. It does not take long for one to get a reputation as a discontented person, as unreasonable, as hard to get along with, as disagreeable, or [26]
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as a gossip, or a meddler in other people’s matters. We need to keep it in our prayers continually, that we may have the gift to sec ourselves as others see us. It would be a good thing if we all were to read the thirteenth of First Corinthians at least once a week all through our life. It would be like looking into a mirror which would expose the unseemly things in our behavior, that we might cure them.
The cure for unseemliness is not found in books of etiquette, nor in any mere external culture, but in love in the heart. Rudeness of all kinds soon yields to refinement of spirit. Love makes the roughest man gentle. It inspires in us all beautiful things — gentleness, kindness, good temper, thoughtfulness, obligingness, every form of unselfishness, the spirit of serving, and the truest courtesy. Jesus was the truest gentleman that ever lived, and all who really follow him will catch his spirit and learn the beauty of his refinement.
Co puffer anu loic iSDn Here and here alone, Is given thee to suffer for God’s sake, hi the other worlds we shall more perfectly Serve him and love him., praise him, work for him. Grow near and nearer him with all delight, But then we shall not any more he called To suffer, which is our appointment here. Canst thou not suffer, then, one hour or two? If he should call thee from thy cross to-day, Saying, It is finished! — that hard cross of thine From which thou pray est for deliverance, Thinkest thou not some passion of regret Would overcome thee f Thou wouldst say, “So soon f Let me go hack and suffer yet awhile More patiently: — I have not yet praised God.”
—H. E. H. King.