Proverbial Philosophy / The First and Second Series

by Unknown

OF GIFTS.

I had a seeming friend;—I gave him gifts, and he was gone:

I had an open enemy;—I gave him gifts, and won him:

Common friendship standeth on equalities, and cannot bear a debt;

But the very heart of hate melteth at a good man's love:

Go to, then, thou that sayest,—I will give and rivet the links:

For pride shall kick at obligation, and push the giver from him.

The covetous spirit may rejoice, revelling in thy largess,

But chilling selfishness will mutter,—I must give again:

The vain heart may be glad, in this new proof of man's esteem,

But the same idolatry of self abhorreth thoughts of thanking.

Nevertheless, give; for it shall be a discriminating test

Separating honesty from falsehood, weeding insincerity from friendship.

Give, it is like God; thou weariest the bad with benefits:

Give, it is like God; thou gladdenest the good by gratitude.

Give to thy near of kin, for providence hath stationed thee his helper:

Yet see that he claim not, as his right, thy freewill offering of duty.

Give to the young, they love it; neither hath the poison of suspicion

Spoilt the flavour of their thanks, to look for latent motives.

Give to merit, largely give; his conscious heart will bless thee:

It is not flattery, but love,—the sympathy of men his brethren.

Give, for encouragement in good; the weak desponding mind

Hath many foes, and much to do, and leaneth on its friends.

Yet heed thou wisely these; give seldom to thy better;

For such obtrusive boon shall savour of presumption;

Or, if his courteous bearing greet thy proffered kindness,

Shall not thine independent honesty be vexed at the semblance of a bribe?

Moreover, heed thou this; give to thine equal charily,

The occasion fair and fitting, the gift well chosen and desired:

Hath he been prosperous and blest? a flower may show thy gladness;

Is he in need? with liberal love, tender him the well-filled purse:

Disease shall welcome friendly care in grapes and precious unguents;

And where a darling child hath died, give praise, and hope, and sympathy.

Yet once more, heed thou this; give to the poor discreetly,

Nor suffer idle sloth to lean upon thy charitable arm:

To diligence give, as to an equal, on just and fit occasion;

Or he bartereth his hard-earned self-reliance for the casual lottery of gifts.

The timely loan hath added nerve, where easy liberality would palsy;

Work and wages make a light heart; but the mendicant asked with a heavy spirit.

A man's own self-respect is worth unto him more than money,

And evil is the charity that humbleth, and maketh man less happy.

There are who sow liberalities, to reap the like again;

But men accept his boon, scorning the shallow usurer:

I have known many such a fisherman lose his golden baits:

And oftentimes the tame decoy escapeth with the flock.

Yea, there are who give unto the poor, to gain large interest of God,—

Fool,—to think His wealth is money, and not mind:

And haply after thine alms, thy calculated givings,

The hurricane shall blast thy crops, and sink the homeward ship;

Then shall thy worldly soul murmur that the balances were false,

Thy trader's mind shall think of God,—He stood not to His bargain!

Give, saith the preacher, be large in liberality, yield to the holy impulse,

Tarry not for cold consideration, but cheerfully and freely scatter.

So, for complacency of conscience, in a gush of counterfeited charity,

He that hath not wherewith to be just, selfishly presumeth to be generous:

The debtor, and the rich by wrong, are known among the band of the benevolent;

And men extol the noble hearts, who rob that they may give.

Receivers are but little prone to challenge rights of giving,

Nor stop to test, for conscience-sake, the righteousness of mammon:

And the zealot in a cause is a receiver, at the hand which bettereth his cause;

And thus an unsuspected bribe shall blind the good man's judgment:

It is easy to excuse greatness, and the rich are readily forgiven:

What, if his gains were evil, sanctified by using them aright?

O shallow flatterer, self-interest is thy thought,

Hopeless of partaking in the like, thou too wouldst scorn the giver.

Money hath its value; and the scatterer thereof his thanks:

Few men, drinking at a rivulet, stop to consider its source.

The hand that closeth on an alm, be it for necessities or zeal,

Hath small scruple whence it came: Vespasian rejoiceth in his tribute.

Therefore have colleges and hospitals risen upon orphans' wrongs,

Chapels and cathedrals have thriven on the welcome wages of iniquity,

And fraud, in evil compensation, hath salved his guilty conscience,

Not by restoring to the cheated, but by ostentatious giving to the grateful.

So, those who reap rejoice; and reaping, bless the sower:

No one is eager to discover, where discovery tendeth unto loss:

Yet, if knowledge of a theft make gainers thereby guilty,

Can he be altogether innocent, who never asked the honesty of gain?

Therefore, O preacher, zealous for charity, temper thy warm appeal,—

Warning the debtor and unjustly rich, they may not dare to give:

To do good is a privilege and guerdon: how shouldst thou rejoice

If ill-got gifts of presumptuous fraud be offered on the altar?

The question is not of degrees; unhallowed alms are evil;

Discourage and reject alike the obolus or talent of iniquity.

Yet more, be careful that, unworthily, thou gain not an advantage over weakness,

Unstable souls, fervent and profuse, fluttered by the feeling of the moment;

For eloquence swayeth to its will the feeble and the conscious of defect:

Rashly give they, and afterward are sad,—a gift that doubly erred.

It was the worldliness of priestcraft that accounted alms-giving for charity;

And many a father's penitence hath steeped his son in penury;

Yet, considered he lightly the guilt of a death-bed selfishness

That strove to take with him, for gain, the gold no longer his;

So he died in a false peace, and dying robbed his kindred;

The cunning friar at his side having cheated both the living and the dead.

Charity sitteth on a fair hill-top, blessing far and near,

But her garments drop ambrosia, chiefly, on the violets around her:

She gladdeneth indeed the map-like scene, stretching to the verge of the horizon,

For her angel face is lustrous and beloved, even as the moon in heaven:

But the light of that beatific vision gloweth in serener concentration

The nearer to her heart, and nearer to her home,—that hill-top where she sitteth:

Therefore is she kind unto her kin, yearning in affection on her neighbours,

Giving gifts to those around, who know and love her well.

But the counterfeit of charity, an hypocrite of earth, not a grace of heaven,

Seeketh not to bless at home, for her nearer aspect is ill-favoured:

Therefore hideth she for shame, counting that pride humility,

And none of those around her hearth are gladdened by her gifts:

Rather, with an overreaching zeal, flingeth she her bounty to the stranger,

And scattered prodigalities abroad compensate for meanness in her home:

For benefits showered on the distant shine in unmixed beauty,

So that even she may reap their undiscerning praise:

Therefore native want hath pined, where foreign need was fattened;

Woman been crushed by the tyrannous hand that upheld the flag of liberality;

Poverty been prisoned up and starved, by hearts that are maudlin upon crime;

And freeborn babes been manacled by men, who liberate the sturdy slave.

Policy counselleth a gift, given wisely and in season,

And policy afterwards approveth it, for great is the influence of gifts.

The lover, unsmiled upon before, is welcome for his jewelled bauble;

The righteous cause without a fee, must yield to bounteous guilt:

How fair is a man in thine esteem, whose just discrimination seeketh thee,

And so, discerning merit, honoureth it with gifts!

Yea, let the cause appear sufficient, and the motive clear and unsuspicious,

As given to one who cannot help, or proving honest thanks,

There liveth not one among a million, who is proof against the charm of liberality,

And flattery, that boon of praise, hath power with the wisest.

Man is of three natures, craving all for charity;

It is not enough to give him meats, withholding other comfort:

For the mind starveth, and the soul is scorned, and so the human animal

Eateth his unsatisfying pittance, a thankless heartless pauper:

Yet would he bless thee and be grateful, didst thou feed his spirit,

And teach him that thine alms-givings are charities, are loves:

Sympathy sank into his soul, and the pitied one felt happier:

Anon passed by a cavalcade, children of wealth and gaiety;

They laughed, and looked upon the beggar, and the gallants flung him gold;

He, poor spirit-humbled wretch, gathered up their givings with a curse,

And went—to share it with his brother, the beggar who had pitied him!

---