Robert Merry's museum, Volumes III-IV (1842)

by Various

That thing I cannot do.

There is a beautiful story in the 5th chapter of the 2nd Book of Kings, about a famous person, by the name of Naaman. He was captain of the army of the king of Syria, and was a great and mighty man.

But he was afflicted with a loathsome disease, called leprosy, which is common in the eastern countries. Now the Syrians had gone to war, and had brought away from the land of Israel a young maiden as a captive, and she waited on Naaman’s wife. The story in the Bible goes on as follows:

“And she said unto her mistress, Would God my lord were with the prophet that is in Samaria, for he would cure him of his leprosy. And one went in and told his lord, saying, Thus and thus said the maid that is of the land of Israel. And the king of Syria said, Go to, go, and I will send a letter unto the king of Israel. And he departed, and took with him ten talents of silver, and six thousand pieces of gold, and ten changes of raiment. And he brought the letter to the king of Israel, saying, Now, when this letter is come unto thee, behold, I have therewith sent Naaman my servant to thee, that thou mayest recover him of his leprosy. And it came to pass, when the king of Israel had read the letter, that he rent his clothes, and said, Am I God, to kill and to make alive, that this man doth send unto me to recover a man of his leprosy? Wherefore consider, I pray you, and see how he seeketh a quarrel against me.

“And it was so, when Elisha, the man of God, had heard that the king of Israel had rent his clothes, that he sent to the king, saying, Wherefore hast thou rent thy clothes? Let him come now to me, and he shall know that there is a prophet in Israel. So Naaman came with his horses and with his chariot, and stood at the door of the house of Elisha. And Elisha sent a messenger unto him, saying, Go and wash in Jordan seven times, and thy flesh shall come again unto thee, and thou shalt be clean. But Naaman was wroth, and went away, and said, Behold, I thought, he will surely come out to me, and stand, and call on the name of the Lord his God, and strike his hand over the place, and recover the leper. Are not Abana and Pharpar, rivers of Damascus, better than all the waters of Israel? may I not wash in them, and be clean? So he turned, and went away in a rage.”

Now this beautiful story, though told about a great man in ancient days, may afford instruction even to young people of our time; for, like the Syrian captain, we all of us like to do things in our own way; and furthermore, we like to perform certain duties rather than others.

The truth is this—that in almost all our conduct, we permit our pride, our likes and dislikes, our tastes and aversions to govern us, rather than our sense of duty. We very seldom ask ourselves “what ought I to do, and how ought I to do it?” implicitly and cheerfully acting according to the reply which conscience gives. Even those who mean to be governed by duty, are very apt to look over their list of duties, pick out those which are most agreeable, and perform them, neglecting or delaying all others—and even in performing duties, we are likely to do them in the way most agreeable to ourselves, and often not in the best way.

Now all this is weakness and folly: it is real and practical disobedience; it shows that the heart is not right—that we are selfish—self-willed, self-seeking, rather than honest, sincere, faithful followers of duty.

Let us suppose a case. Anna is sick, and her mother wishes her to take some medicine, and proposes that she shall take castor oil.

“Oh, mother,” says Anna, “I hate castor oil.”

“So does everybody,” says the mother. “But is it not better, my dear child, to take a little disagreeable physic than to continue sick, and run the risk of having a fever?”

“But, mother, won’t something else do as well?” is the reply.

“No, not as well,” says the mother, “the best thing for you is castor oil; and sick or well, it is always right to do the best thing we can.”

“Oh, mother,” says the thoughtless child, “I can’t take castor oil; anything but castor oil—but really I cannot take that!”

Now this little girl is very much like Naaman. She wants to get well, but she wishes to do this in her own way. She dislikes castor oil particularly, and really feels willing to take the risk of being very sick, rather than to swallow a little medicine which disgusts her. So it was with Naaman. He wished to get well, and he was willing to take a bath, but he was a proud man; and he did not like the idea of giving a preference to a river of Judea over the beautiful rivers of Damascus; and so he refused, and went away in a rage.

Thus it is that the little, as well as the great, are very apt to find some difficulty in the performance of duty, even where it would benefit themselves. Almost every person finds something, every day of his life, which he cannot, or rather which he will not do, but which at the same time he ought to do.

Now this is a very important matter; and the reason is this—that if we cannot do the right thing at the right time, and in the right way, though we may be very active, industrious, and energetic, still we shall find ourselves really weak, inefficient and unsuccessful in life.

But how shall we cure such a fault as this, if we happen to have it? I will tell you. Watch yourselves carefully, and when you find yourselves saying internally, “that thing I cannot do,” consider whether it be a duty; and if it be, do it immediately, and do it as it ought to be done! Remember, that even Naaman repented of his folly, bathed in the river of Jordan, and was healed.