^ " Some years ago I lay ill in San Francisco, an obscure journalist, quite friendless. Stevenson, who knew me slightly, came to my bedside and said, ''■ I suppose you are like all of us, you don't keep your money. Now, if a little loan, as between one man of letters and another — eh ? " This to a lad writing rubbish for a vulgar sheet in California ! " ^
(3) It is personal. — The service which the Samaritan rendered was personal. He himself bound up the wounds, himself set the stranger on his own beast, himself brought him to the inn and took care of him. Charity is always incomplete unless it in- volves this element of personal service. We have become too much accustomed to acting the neighbour by deputy. We give
^ Ruskin, Sesame and Lilies ( Works, i. 31).
- Quoted from The Times by Graham Balfour in Life of R. L. Stevenson, ii. 40.
ST. LUKE X. 37 213
money : we leave it to others to give personal service. Of course, to a large extent this is a necessity of modern life ; and we can keep even this second-hand charity at least in touch with true principles if we take pains to follow our money with personal interest and sympathy. But we must never be satisfied with this. No amount of subscriptions can compensate for this want of the touch of person with person ; of heart reaching heart ; of will en- couraging and strengthening will. Each one of us ought to be able to think at once of some individual or family in the ranks of the poor, the sick, the distressed, whom by personal thought and care and act we are trying to comfort and cheer and raise.
^ " What is to be done for the unsaved masses ? " Mr. Moody asked while in Sheffield. In answering his own inquiry, he said that he had found a spiritual famine in England such as he had never dreamed of. " Here, for instance, in this town of Sheffield," he said, " I am told that there are one hundred and fifty thousand people who not only never go near a place of worship, but for whom there is actually no church accommoda- tion provided, even if they were willing to take advantage of it. It seems to me, if there be upon God's earth one blacker sight than these thousands of Christless and graceless souls, it is the thousands of dead and slumbering Christians living in their very midst, rubbing shoulders with them every day upon the streets, and never so much as lifting up a little finger to warn them of death and eternity and judgment to come. Talk of being sickened at the sight of the world's degradation, ah ! let those of us who are Christian hide our faces because of our own, and pray God to deliver us from the guilt of the world's blood. I believe that if there is one thing which pierces the Master's heart with unutterable grief, it is not the world's iniquity but the Church's indifference." He then argued that every Christian man and woman should feel that the question was not one for ministers and elders and deacons alone, but for them as well. " It is not enough," he said, " to give alms ; personal service is necessary. I may hire a man to do some work, but I can never hire a man to do my work. Alone before God I must answer for that, and so must we all."i
2. Lay emphasis on the necessity of doing — " go, and do thou likewise." Which of us has never allowed sensibility of feeling to pass muster with his conscience in the place of merciful action ? 1 W. E. Moody, The Life of Dwight L. Moody, 196.
214 THE GOOD SAMARITAN
The glow which warms our hearts when we are roused by a tale of oppression, or shed a tear over another's woe, is so like the comfort of a self-approving conscience when a duty has been done that we need reminding roughly that in Heaven's chancery fine feeling counts for nothing ; that it is precious only so far as it leads to noble action; that the sensibility which ends where it began makes inaction more inexcusable ; that
Faith's meanest deed more favour wears Where lives and hearts are weighed
Than keenest feelings, choicest prayers, Which bloom their hour and fade.
Action is the test of feelings. The pity raised in us by the sight of suffering must pass into the prompt energy which relieves it before we can claim a place in that noble army typified by the Good Samaritan.
^ Shall I tell you what I saw the other day ? It made me laugh, and yet it made me sad. I saw, in one of your parks, a poor little ragged boy, who was evidently hungry, and who was anxious to appeal successfully to the pity of the public. He was met by a tall, lean, clean man, who set his long, bony fingers together stiffly and impressively, and lectured the child in very suitable language. I overheard him say, "This is not proper. You ought to have been at school ; you should not be prowling about here in this way ; there are places provided for such as you, and I earnestly advise you to get away from this course of life." Every word he said was grammatically correct, and socially very true. As he was delivering his frosty lecture to the poor lad, there came a boy — a school-boy hastening to school — who was carrying a large lump of bread and butter in his hand, while he was eating as only school -boys can eat; and when he saw the poor ragged child, he pulled his bread and butter in two, put one half into the boy's hand, and went on. " Not every one that saith unto me, Lord, Lord, shall enter into the kingdom of heaven." That boy who gave his bread and butter away will stand a better chance than the ninety-nine legally upright, who apparently need no repentance ! ^