"That man may last, but never lives,
Who much receives, but nothing gives;
Whom none can love, whom none can thank,
Creation's blot, creation's blank."
Naturally people feel grateful to those who have done them a kindness, and the feeling of gratitude is generally a sufficient compensation for those who have done a kind and unselfish act. But when one does a favor for another, and behind that favor is the secret and selfish intent that the gratitude which is awakened by the favor shall become a debt which the receiver at some time and in some way must repay to the selfish needs of the one who bestowed the favor, then gratitude becomes a debt which it is expected will be paid.
An act of apparent kindness can never result in good when it is intended to put any man under obligations that deprive him of his freedom to act. That is the characteristic of a politician. It is buying up one's freedom, and such a bargain is worse upon the man who seeks to make it than Shylock's contract for a pound of flesh.
When we win the friendship of others, because that friendship is helpful and encouraging to us, and because we need it for our happiness in life, gratitude of others toward us has a beautiful and lasting charm. That is the gratitude which Saints enjoy.
It is always safer and better to enjoy the gratitude which we feel to others than to set store upon the gratitude which we think others should have toward us. The grateful man sees so much in the world to be thankful for, and with him the good outweighs the evil. Love overpowers jealousy, and light drives darkness out of his life. Pride destroys our gratitude and sets up selfishness in its place. How much happier we are in the presence of a grateful and loving soul, and how careful we should be to cultivate, through the medium of a prayerful life, a thankful attitude toward God and man!—Juvenile Instructor, Vol. 38, April, 1903, pp. 242, 243.
BACKBITING. In a letter recently received by me, the following request and question were submitted for my opinion: "I would like you to define backbiting. There seems to be a difference of opinion respecting the meaning of the term. Some claim that so long as you speak the truth about a person, it is not backbiting, no matter what you say or how you say it. Would it not be better, if we knew a person had faults, to go to him privately and labor with him, than to go to others and speak of his faults?"
Nothing could be farther from the spirit and genius of the gospel than to suppose that we are always justified in speaking the truth about a person, however harmful the truth to him may be. The gospel teaches us the fundamental principles of repentance, and we have no right to discredit a man in the estimation of his fellowmen when he has truly repented and God has forgiven him. We are constantly beset by temptation, and often say and do things of which we immediately repent, and no doubt, if our repentance is genuine, it is always acceptable to our Heavenly Father. After he has accepted the contrition of the human heart and forgiven men their trespasses, it is dangerous for us to hold up their evil deeds for the contempt of the world.
As a rule, it is not necessary to be constantly offering advice to those who in our judgment are possessed of some fault. In the first place, our judgments may be in error, and in the second place, we may be dealing with a man who is strongly imbued with the spirit of repentance, and who, conscious of his weakness, is constantly struggling to overcome it. The utmost care, therefore, should be observed in all our language that implies a reproach of others. As a general rule, backbiting is better determined by the spirit and purpose that actuate us in speaking of things we consider faults in others than in the words themselves. A man or woman who possesses the Spirit of God will soon detect in his or her own feelings the spirit of backbiting, as that spirit is present in the remarks that are made concerning others. The question of backbiting, therefore, is probably best determined by the ancient rule that, "the letter killeth but the spirit giveth life."—Juvenile Instructor, October 15, 1904, Vol. 39, p. 625.
DO NOT INFLICT WOUNDS, BUT HEAL WOUNDS. Almost anyone can inflict a wound. It may be made by a word, a slight, or by general conduct. But the healing of a wound is an art not acquired by practice, alone, but by the loving tenderness that comes from universal good will and a sympathetic interest in the welfare and happiness of others. If people were always as ready to administer kindness as they are indifferent to the pain of others—if they were as patient to heal as they are quick to wound—many an unkind word would never be spoken, many a slight would be avoided. The art of healing is really one of the highest qualities and attributes of man; it is a characteristic of a great and noble soul; the sure indication of generous impulse.
In the discipline of the home, of the school, and social life, the infliction of wounds may be unavoidable, if they be not an actual necessity; but wounds should never be left open to fester—they should be bound up and cared for until they are healed. Perhaps the most perfect ideal in the art of healing is the mother whose tender and gracious love asserts itself in taking away the sting of a deserved or undeserved punishment. How her love heals every wound! How quick her caresses bind up and soothe! The example of her life is the wisdom which love teaches. In the school, children may suffer humiliation into which their wayward or careless conduct has brought them, and their punishment may be just; but their wounds the teacher should never leave unhealed. Nature wounds us when we violate her laws; but nature has her antiseptic methods of treating and healing every wound. The wise teacher has his also.