Mere pecuniary aid, or indeed any other form of donation, is after all a cheap description of charity. The most avaricious persons may sometimes. resort to annual or other stated contributions, as expedients to save trouble and to pacify conscience; and while we duly appreciate this periodical goodness, it is insufficient as the basis of a claim to philanthropy of spirit. How many in the carpeted walks of wealth will readily purchase, by this means, an exemption from the inconvenience of soiling their shoes, or hurting their delicacy, by going to witness scenes of real distress.
Ladies of opulence or of leisure should reflect further, that in paying an occasional visit to the dwellings of poverty and suffering, they are not only likely to discover many cases of silent, unobtrusive wretchedness, which but for their personal inquiries and researches might sink into the grave without the smallest relief, while clamorous wo sometimes gains the ear of the most thoughtless passenger, but they become the means of imparting a twofold blessing. In addition to what they give, the sense of their sympathy enhances the favour, and it is received with double pleasure. Man is possessed of a social principle, which operates with peculiar energy in cases of affliction. As a consciousness of neglect excites disgust and resentment, so a conviction of being the object of solicitude and sympathy produces the most grateful emotions. It may, therefore be safely asserted, that a donation to the poor, when personally bestowed by the donor, is, in consequence of the effect produced on the mind of the sufferer, of incalculably greater importance and use than the same or even a superior sum contributed by the cold agency of some unfeeling distributor. Besides, a charitable soul has a perpetual feast. Who can remain an unaffected spectator of the tearful eye--the speaking look--the thankful smile? The very silence which an overwhelming sense of kindness imposes, is more delightful to a benevolent spirit than dainties to the taste or music to the ear.
In dispensing charity, many valuable acquisitions may be gained. It is, in fact, a profitable service; and he makes an excellent exchange indeed, who, while bestowing money or goods to assist the poor, obtains substantial instruction. Here then, in the meanest hovel, in the most shattered and weather-beaten shed, amidst cries of distress and sights of sorrow, the wisest may gain knowledge. What a lesson of gratitude is taught in every scene and circumstance! Who maketh thee to differ from another in point of temporal possession, mental superiority, or religious distinction? What hast thou, that thou hast not received? That humble cottager is human, like thyself! That nest of callowness and weakness contains the same species with thyself, on whom Providence has bestowed wings to soar to heights of prosperity and enjoyment. Thou art descended from the same common Father, and art heir of the same common dust! Thy life is no less precarious, if it be less wretched, than that which animates a meaner clay, and breathes in a less decorated exterior! If the one be porcelain, and the other earthen ware, both are brittle! "God hath made of one blood all nations of men." Sometimes a cottage furnishes an impressive lesson respecting the independence of happiness upon external circumstances. It teaches the salutary truth, that it is in the power of religion to impart substantial felicity in every condition, to communicate exalted enjoyment, to form an ennobled character in the meanest habitation, and to inspire the sublime sentiment of the poet:
"Give what thou wilt, without thee I am poor,
And with thee rich, take what thou wilt away."
COWPER.
Poverty has been the lot of the most distinguished of the human species; and if ever the vanity of riches, and the incurable emptiness of temporal splendour are felt, surely it must be when visiting the dwellings of the pious poor. No riches can inspire their songs of praise, or purchase a title to their immortal inheritance. No rank or dignity can attract the eyes of those holy spirits that hover round the spot to which affliction has confined an outcast Lazarus, or kindle such rapturous sensations and holy congratulations, as they manifest at the repentance of a sinner. Piety hallows the dwelling which it inhabits, and felicitates as well as sanctifies the heart, the family, and the city which it pervades. In the primitive ages of Christianity, the disciples of our Lord could see the rapacious oppressor seize the last portion of their worldly goods, and "take it joyfully;" they could "most gladly glory in their infirmities, that the power of Christ might rest upon them;" they could hail the martyr's stake, while they anticipated the martyr's crown; and, in the days of Paul and Silas, if there were a spot on earth where celestial joy took up her residence, it was, at least for one happy night, in the very dungeon of persecution.
To return to Dorcas. Her character is so described, as to imply that hers were free, and often unsolicited charities. She did not indolently wait for applications, or contrive a thousand delays, while misery was pining into the grave; but, like her Divine Master, "went about doing good." She penetrated the obscurest retreats, not waiting to be pressed and urged to afford a trifling relief; but her benevolence resembled the course of the sun, which pours its beneficent radiance upon the earth with undistinguishing liberality. It ought not to be forgotten, that sometimes minds of the most delicate constitution are involved in all the miseries of poverty, and placed in a situation of all others the most painful, that of persons reduced from former competency and comfort. The privations of life are far more sensibly felt by those who have once known plenteousness. To them the wind of adversity blows with tenfold keenness, and the crust of want seems peculiarly unpalatable. They are reluctant, not to say "ashamed, to beg." The blushes of an instinctive sensibility suffuse their countenances, and petitions for assistance falter on their tongues. They have to contend not only with the afflictions of poverty, but with all the timidity which a consciousness of degradation superinduces. In many cases of this description, persons of eminent worth have been found, who could not overcome their scruples, till absolute want forced them abroad to suffer the rebuffs of an unfeeling world, or to gain the scanty pittance which mere importunity extorted from reluctant opulence. Dorcas is celebrated for having particularly selected such a class of sufferers. She had sought out the widows, who had lost their dearest relatives, by whose daily and cheerful labours they were perhaps enabled to live in decent sufficiency, or by whose sympathizing tenderness they were at least consoled amidst inevitable sorrows. The weakness of their sex, or the infirmities of their advanced age, prevented their contending with the storms of life; and, no doubt, many of them surrounded by a numerous family, at the decease of the beloved of their hearts, were left to struggle with accumulated difficulties.
Women on whom Providence has bestowed a sufficiency, might here find ample means of usefulness among persons of their own sex. A helping hand might rescue many a widow from the deep waters of overwhelming grief: a trifling sum would in many cases prove an inestimable boon; and a very small expense of time and trouble might produce the most valuable results. A well-constructed system of benevolence resembles a fine adjustment of mechanism: by a gentle force or a moderate supply, judiciously applied, the whole machinery is kept in motion, and the greatest burdens are removed.
This leads us to remark another characteristic feature in the charity of Dorcas. It was wise and prudential. She had a plan which was not only unexceptionable, but singularly excellent and worthy of imitation. This consisted in furnishing the poor with substantial assistance, and providing for the proper application of her aid to their real and most pressing necessities. She made "coats and garments" for widows. It is to be feared, that the good intentions of persons charitably disposed are often frustrated by the improper manner in which they render assistance to the poor. They fulfil the impulse of a benevolent spirit by sending or giving their money, leaving the mode of its expenditure to their own judgment. But it is notorious, that such as are in reduced circumstances, and who feel the particular pressure of the moment which they are most anxious to relieve, have very little sense of the real value of money and of the propriety of providing against the difficulties of futurity. They take the cordial to-day, draining out every drop, forgetting that the phial will be empty to-morrow. In consequence of this extreme improvidence and inconsideration, the pecuniary help they receive frequently does little good, and fails of all the purposes which a pious charity intended.
The depravity of mankind, which must be expected to operate in the poor as well as in the rich, is another occasion of the misuse of benevolent aid. The friendly supply is consumed upon their lusts. Abandoned in character and selfish in principle, many heads of poor families addict themselves to bad company, despoiling their families of their earnings and of charitable supplies, and stupifying their consciences in the cup of intoxication. The discovery of such a misapplication ought not to extinguish the feeling of sympathy, but rather excite it afresh; both because the individuals themselves are to be doubly pitied for their destitution of moral feeling and want of religion, as well as of necessary subsistence, and because their outraged families demand renewed attention. It ought also to render liberal persons particularly watchful of the use which is made of their benefactions. It should not shut the heart, but regulate the course of feeling. The sin of others does not exempt us from the duty of contributing to the alleviation of their miseries, though it ought to induce us to study the best expedients for counteracting it. It is in fact quite as requisite that we should see to the application of what is given as to give, in all cases where this is possible or convenient. Dorcas appears to have adopted the useful plan of expending the money which she appropriated to the poor widows, for them; partly because she was probably better able to judge of the most useful mode of assisting them, and partly because the very same sum would prove doubly efficient in consequence of the savings which would acrue from working with her own hands.