CHAPTER I.
CHARACTER.
Everything in the practical conduct of life depends upon character.
What is character? What do we mean by it? As when we say such a man is a bad character, or a good character, or when we use the words, "I don't like the character of that man."
By character we mean what a man really is, at the back of all his actions and his reputation and the opinion the world has of him, in the very depth of his being, in the sight of God, "to whom all hearts are open, all desires known, and from whom no secrets are hid."
It is said of Burns, the poet, that walking along the streets of Edinburgh with a fashionable acquaintance, he saw a poorly-dressed peasant, whom he rushed up to and greeted as a familiar friend. His companion expressed his surprise that he could lower himself by speaking to one in so rustic a garb. "Fool!" said the poet, with flashing eye; "it was not the dress, the peasant's bonnet and hodden gray, I spoke to, but the man within—the man who beneath that bonnet has a head, and beneath that hodden gray a heart, better than a thousand such as yours." What the poet termed the "man within," what the Scripture calls the "hidden man of the heart," is character—the thing a man really is. Now, there are five things to be remembered about character.
I. Character is a growth.—As the man without grows, so the man within grows also—grows day by day either in beauty or in deformity. We are becoming, as the days and years pass on, what we shall be in our future earthly life, what we shall be when that life is ended. No one becomes what he is at once, whether what he is be good or bad. You may have seen in the winter-time an icicle forming under the eaves of a house. It grows, one drop at a time, until it is more than a foot long. If the water is clear, the icicle remains clear and sparkles in the sun; but if the water is muddy, the icicle looks dirty and its beauty is spoiled. So our characters are formed; one little thought or feeling at a time adds its influence. If these thoughts and feelings are pure and right, the character will be lovely and will sparkle with light; but if they are impure and evil, the character will be wretched and deformed.
Fairy tales tell us of palaces built up in a night by unseen hands, but those tales are not half so wonderful as what is going on in each of us. Day and night, summer and winter, a building is going up within us, behind the outer screen of our lives. The storeys of it are being silently fashioned: virtue is being added to faith, and to virtue is being added knowledge, and to knowledge is being added brotherly kindness, and to brotherly kindness charity; or meanness is being added to selfishness, and greed to meanness, and impurity, malice and hatred become courses in the building. A wretched hovel, a poor, mean, squalid structure, is rising within us; and when the screen of our outward life is taken from us, this is what we shall be.
II. Character is independent of reputation and circumstances.—A man may be held in very high esteem by the world, and yet may be a very miserable creature so far as his character is concerned. The rich man of the parable was well off and probably much thought of, but God called him a fool. Here is a man who is greatly esteemed by the public; he is regarded in every way as admirable. Follow him home, and you find him in his family a mean and sordid soul. There you have the real man. We cannot always judge a man by what he has, or by what he appears to us; for what he is may be something very different. "These uniforms," said the Duke of Wellington, "are great illusions. Strip them off, and many a pretty fellow would be a coward; when in them he passes muster with the rest." We must not confound the uniform with the man: we are often too ready to do so. To a certain extent we can form an idea what a man is from the outside. The horny hand tells of the life of labor; the deep-set brow tells of the thinker. In other words we have a right to judge a man by his habitation. If the fences are broken down, the paths are unkept, the flower-beds full of weeds, we may be pretty sure the inhabitants are idle, thriftless, perhaps intemperate. So a clear eye, a firm step, an open countenance, tell of a pure, good soul within. For example, a man of cold exterior or of formal manner may often have a warm heart under it all; a man of rough manners may have kindly feelings that he cannot express. We are often long in the company of men before we really know them, and then the discovery of what they are comes on us by surprise.
III. Character cannot be always hidden.—There are those who seem to think that they can have one set of principles for themselves and another for the outward world; that they can be in their heart one thing and in society another; that they can have one character and another reputation. They may be proud, but they can so hide their pride as to have the reputation of being humble; they can lie, but still have the reputation of always speaking the truth; they can be impure, and yet have the reputation of being virtuous. But sooner or later what they really are generally becomes manifest. Reputation and character come to be one. That which they would keep secret cannot be concealed. The mask which men would wear slips aside and discloses the face beneath it. (1) Time reveals character. As the years pass along, a man generally gets to be known for what he is. For example, if a man is a coward and enlists in the army, he may swagger about and look like a real soldier, but a time will come when the spirit of the man will show itself, and he will be set down at his real value. Or a young man in an office may act dishonestly and go on perhaps for long doing so, and thinking he is carefully concealing his frauds, but, when least expected, discovery takes place, and ruin and disgrace follow. (2) Sorrow reveals character. Nothing more truly shows what a man is than his bearing under the sorrows of life. When the flag is wrapped around the flag-staff on a calm day, when no breath of wind is moving, we cannot read the device that is upon it, but when the storm unfurls the flag, we can read it plainly enough. In the same way when the troubles of life beat upon men we can read clearly what they are. Again, when we go along the road on a summer day we often cannot see the houses that are concealed by the foliage of the trees; but in winter-time, when the trees are bare and leafless, we know what kind of houses are there, whether they are squalid cottages or grand mansions. So in the winter-time of life, when the leaves are blown away, men come out and we know what kind of character they have been building up behind the screen of their life. (3) If time and sorrow do not reveal character, eternity will. We will appear then, not as we seem, but as we are. Christ is to be our judge. Consider what a striking thing it is in the life of Christ that His searching glance seemed to go right to the heart, to the hidden motive, to the man within. "He knew what was in man." A poor woman passed by Him as He sat in the temple. She was poverty-stricken in her garb, and she stole up to the contribution-box and dropped in her offering. Christ's glance went right beyond her outward appearance, and beyond her small and almost imperceptible offering, to the motive and character. "She hath given more than they all." All sorts of people were around Him: Pharisees, with their phylacteries; Scribes, with their sceptical notions; Samaritans, with their vaunted traditions: but He always went right beyond the outward show. The Samaritan was good and kind, though he got no credit for piety; the Pharisee was corrupt and self-seeking, though he got no credit for piety; the Publican was a child of God, though no one would speak to him. Christ reversed the judgment of men on those people whom they thought they knew so well, but did not know at all. So it shall be at the last; we shall be judged by what we are.
IV. Character alone endures.—What a man has he leaves behind him; what a man is he carries with him. It is related that when Alexander the Great was dying he commanded that his hands should be left outside his shroud, that all men might see that, though conqueror of the world he could take nothing away with him. Before Saladin the Great uttered his last sigh he called the herald who had carried his banner before him in all his battles, and commanded him to fasten to the top of the spear a shroud in which he was to be buried, and to proclaim, "This is all that remains to Saladin the Great of all his glory." So men have felt in all ages that death strips them, and that they take nothing with them of what they have gained. But what we are ourselves we take with us. All that time has made us, for good or evil, goes with us. We can lay up treasures in ourselves that neither moth nor rust can corrupt, and which thieves cannot steal away. "The splendid treasures of memory, the treasures of disciplined powers, of enlarged capacities, of a pure and loving heart, all are treasures which a man can carry in him and with him into that other world."
We are but farmers of ourselves, yet may,
If we can stock ourselves and thrive, uplay
Much good treasure for the great rent-day.—DONNE.
"All the jewels and gold a man can collect he drops from his hand when he dies, but every good action he has done is rooted into his soul and can never leave him."—Buddhist saying.
V. The highest character a man can have is the Christian Character.—(1) Christ is the giver of a noble character. It is possible to be united to Christ as the branch is united to the tree; and when we are so, His life passes into ours: a change in character comes to us; we are renewed in the inward man, old things pass away, and all things become new. In the life of St. Paul we have a striking instance how coming to Christ effects a change in character. He became a different man from what he was; he received a new inward life; a transfiguring change passed over the entire character; the life he lived in the flesh became a life of faith in the Son of God; and his experience has been the experience of many. The source of the highest and noblest character is Christ. (2) Christ is also the standard of a noble character; the true ideal of manhood is found in Him: "the stature of the fulness of Christ." Take the following illustration: "In Holland we travel with Dutch money, in France with French money, in Germany with German money. The standard of the coinage varies with every state we go into. In Britain there is one standard of coinage; we may get some corrupted money or some light coin, but the standard of coinage is the same. The standard for the Christian is the same throughout the years and in all places: the one perpetual standard of the life of Christ." The best men are those who come the nearest to it. Those who come nearest to it are those who will do best in the practical conduct of life.