II January 23rd, 1827. — Slept ill, not having been abroad these eight days. Then a dead sleep in the morning, and when the awakening comes, a strong feeling how well I could dispense with it for once and forever. This passes away, however, as better and more dutiful thoughts arise in my mind. I know not if my imagination has flagged ; probably it has ; but at least my powers of labour have not diminished during the last melancholy week. . . . Wrote till twelve A.M., finishing half of what I call a good day's work — ten pages of print, or rather twelve. Then walked in Princes Street pleasure-ground with Good Samaritan James Skene, the only one among my numerous friends who can properly be termed amicus cur arum mearum, others being too busy or too gay, and several being estranged by habit.^
III.
The Exhortation.
Now look more narrowly at the words of the text. Their exposition is the story which precedes, with its circumstances and its lessons.
» Journal of Sir Walter Scott^ 90.
ST. LUKE X. z^ 211
" And Jesus said unto him, Go, and do thou likewise." This is the only human example commended to us. In what the Samaritan did our Lord saw no flaw. The Samaritan is for all times the model neighbour. What was it in the conduct of the Samaritan that won from our Lord this unique eulogium ? It was the all-round love of a neighbour. He gave time, service, money's worth, money. He gave everything. He kept back nothing. He grudged nothing. The Samaritan's benevolence was all-rounded. He by the wayside had no further claim upon the Samaritan than this — he was a man.
1. Thus we have, first of all, an encouragement to a life of service like the Samaritan's. Consider the character of this service.
(1) It is unselfish. — There is a compassion which is selfish ; and it is very common. Its motive sometimes is the indulgence of sentiment. The sentiment of compassion like other natural emotions craves satisfaction. It is really selfish when its primary motive is to satisfy itself rather than the need of its recipient. The charity which relieves itself by giving an alms to any beggar who asks, without thought or care for his real need, which does not consider that that alms may be a means of encouraging thriftless- ness and imposture, may be thus a cruel wrong both to the beggar himself and to the really deserving poor ; the charity which, moved by some sentimental appeal, takes no trouble to see whether
that appeal is true to facts, or likely to do more harm than good
this charity is fundamentally false ; it is a form of self-indulgence. Or, again, the motive may be one's own spiritual good. To give an alms as a means of relieving one's conscience, or of acquiring credit in the eyes of God, is really a selfish act. It is not admir- able, it is merely pitiable, to see the crowds of beggars at some church door in Italy, maintained in beggary rather than lifted out of it, encouraged to trade in the apparatus of misery, by the alms of the faithful. True charity, true neighbourliness, considers first not the indulgence of sentiment or the satisfaction of con- science, but the true need of the poor. And it has come to pass, through the abuse of charity, that the true need of the poor is often best served by withholding, not giving, the heedless and casual dole.
212 THE GOOD SAMARITAN
^ It is simply and sternly impossible for the English public, at this moment, to understand any thoughtful writing, — so incapable of thought has it become in its insanity of avarice. Happily, our disease is, as yet, little worse than this incapacity of thought ; it is not corruption of the inner nature ; we ring true still when anything strikes home to us ; and though the idea that everything should "pay" has infected our every purpose so deeply, that even when we would play the Good Samaritan, we never take out our twopence and give them to the host without saying, " When I come again thou shalt give me fourpence," there is a capacity of noble passion left in our heart's core.^
(2) It is thorough. — The service of the good Samaritan was thoroughgoing. We modern Samaritans reflect that the inn stands hard by, where this patient can get every attention, and that it must be his own fault if he does not go there ; so we ride on with the comforting conclusion that " so much is being done for people of that class." The ancient Samaritan did not pause to think whether he would soil his hands or stain his saddle. He understood that the rights of property must give way before the claims of necessity. His beast was " his own " no longer ; for the time being it belonged to the man who was half dead. Here is the Christian law of possession. The thieves had said, " All thine is ours," and had snatched it violently. The Samaritan says, " All mine is thine," and yields it generously ; because — as Philip Sidney said when he gave up his cup of cold water to the dying soldier — " Thy necessity is greater than mine."