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All's For the Best, a fiction by T. S. Arthur

CHAPTER XII. THE CHRISTIAN GENTLEMAN.

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_ _IT_ has been said that no man can be a gentleman who is not a
Christian. We take the converse of this proposition, and say that no
man can be a Christian who is not a gentleman.

There is something of a stir among the dry bones at this. A few eyes
look at it in a rebuking way.

"Show me that in the Bible," says one in confident negation of our
proposition.

"Ah, well, friend, we will take your case in illustration of our
theme. You call yourself a Christian?"

"By God's mercy I do."

Answered with an assured manner, as if in no doubt as to your being
a worthy bearer of that name.

"You seem to question my state of acceptance. Who made you a judge?"

Softly, friend. We do not like that gleam in your eyes. Perhaps we
had better stop here. If you cannot bear the probe, let us put on
the bandage again.

"I am not afraid of the probe, sir. Go on."

The name Christian includes all human perfection, does it not?

"Yes, and all God-like perfection in the human soul."

So we understand it. Now the fundamental doctrine of Christian life
is this:--"As ye would that men should do unto you, do ye even so to
them."

"Faith in Christ is fundamental," you answer.

Unless we believe in God, we cannot obey his precepts. The
understanding must first assent, before the divine life can be
brought into a conformity with divine laws. But we are not assuming
theologic ground. It is the life to which we are looking. We said
"The fundamental doctrine of Christian _life_."

"All doctrine has relation to life, and I contend for faith as
fundamental."

We won't argue that point, for the reason that it would lead us away
from the theme we are considering. We simply change the form of our
proposition, and call it a leading doctrine of Christian life.

"So far I agree with you."

Then the way before us is unobstructed again. You asked us to show
you authority in the Bible for saying that a man cannot be a
Christian who is not a gentlemen. We point you to the Golden Rule.
In that all laws of etiquette, so called, are included. It is the
code of good breeding condensed to an axiom. Now it has so happened
that our observation of you, friend objector, has been closer than
may have been imagined. We have noted your outgoings and incomings
on divers occasions; and we are sorry to say that you cannot be
classed with the true gentleman.

"Sir!"

Gently! Gently! If a man may be a Christian, and not a gentleman at
the same time, your case is not so bad. But to the testimony of
fact. Let these witness for or against you. Let your own deeds
approve or condemn. You are not afraid of judgment by the standard
of your own conduct?

"Of course not."

And if we educe only well-remembered incidents, no offence will be
taken.

"Certainly not."

We go back, then, and repeat the law of true gentlemanly conduct.
"As ye would that men should do unto you, do ye even so to them."
You were at Stockbridge last summer?

"Yes."

And took supper at the hotel there, with a small company of
strangers?

"Yes."

There was a dish of fine strawberries on the table, among the first
of the season. You are fond of strawberries. They are your favorite
fruit; and, as their rich fragrance came to your nostrils, you felt
eager to taste them. So you counted the guests at the table, and
measured the dish of strawberries with your eyes. Then you looked
from face to face, and saw that all were strangers. Appetite might
be indulged, and no one would know that it was _you_. The
strawberries would certainly not go round, So you hurried down a cup
of tea, and swallowed some toast quickly. Then you said to the
waiter, "Bring me the strawberries." They were brought and set
before you. And now, were you simply just in securing your share, if
the number fell below a dozen berries? You were taking care of
yourself; but in doing so, were not others' rights invaded. We shall
see. There were eight persons at the table, two of them children.
The dish held but little over a quart; of these nearly one-third
were taken by you! Would a true gentleman have done that? You
haven't thought of it since! We are sorry for you then. One of the
children, who only got six berries, cried through half the evening
from disappointment. And an invalid, whose blood would have gained
life from the rich juice of the fruit, got none.

"It was a little selfish, I admit. But I am so fond of strawberries;
and at hotels, you know, every one must take care of himself."

A true gentleman maintains his character under all circumstances,
and a Christian, as a matter of course. A true gentleman defers to
others. He takes so much pleasure in the enjoyment of others, that
he denies himself in order to secure their gratification. Can a
Christian do less and honor the name he bears?

"It wasn't right, I see."

Was it gentlemanly?

"No."

Christian?

"Perhaps not, strictly speaking."

In the gall of bitterness and the bonds of iniquity still, we fear,
for all your profession. Christianity, as a system, must go deeper
down into the heart than that. But we have begun with you, friend,
and we will keep on. Perhaps you will see yourself a little
differently by the time we are through. A poor mechanic, who had
done some trifling work at your house, called, recently, with his
little bill of three dollars and forty cents. You were talking with
a customer, when this man came into your store and handed you his
small account. You opened it with a slight frown on your brow. He
had happened to come at a time when you felt yourself too much
engaged to heed this trifling matter. How almost rudely you thrust
the coarse, soiled piece of paper on which he had written his
account back upon him, saying, "I can't attend to you now!" The poor
man went out hurt and disappointed. Was that gentlemanly conduct?
No, sir! Was it Christian? Look at the formula of Christian life.
"As ye would that men should do unto you, do ye even so to them."

"He should have waited until I was at leisure," you answer. "When a
man is engaged with a customer who buys at the rate of hundreds and
thousands, he don't want paltry bills thrust into his face. He'll
know better next time."

Have you settled the bill yet?

"No. He called day before yesterday, but couldn't give change for
ten dollars."

Why haven't you sent him the trifling sum? He worked over half a day
at your house, and your family have been more comfortable for what
he did there ever since. He needs the money, for he is a poor man.

You half smile in our face at the suggestion, and say, "Merchants
are not in the habit of troubling themselves to send all over the
city to pay the little paltry bills of mechanics. If money is worth
having, it is worth sending or calling for."

In thought, reverse your positions, and apply the rule for a
Christian gentleman; remembering, at the same time, that God is no
respecter of persons. In his eyes, the man's position is
nothing--the quality of his life, everything.

A gentleman in _form_, according to the rules of good breeding, is
one who treats everybody with kindness; who thinks of others' needs,
pleasures and conveniences; and subordinates his own needs,
pleasures and conveniences to theirs. He is mild, gentle, kind and
courteous to all. A gentleman in _feeling_ does all this from a
principle of good-will; the Christian from a _law of spiritual
life_. Now, a man may be a gentleman, in the common acceptation of
the term, and yet not be a Christian; but we are very sure, that he
cannot wave the gentleman and be a Christian.

You look at us more soberly. The truth of our words is taking hold
of conviction. Shall we go on?

Do you not, in all public places, study your own comfort and
convenience? You do not clearly understand the question! We'll make
the matter plainer then:

Last evening you were at Concert Hall, with your wife and daughter.
You went early, and secured good seats. Not three seats, simply,
according to the needs of your party; but nearly five seats, for
extra comfort. You managed it on the expansive principle. Well, the
house was crowded. Compression and condensation went on all around
you; but your party held its expanded position. A white-haired old
man stood at the head of your seat, and looked down at the spaces
between yourself, your wife and daughter; and though you knew it,
you kept your eyes another way until he passed on. You were not
going to be incommoded for any one. Then an old lady lingered there
for a moment, and looked wistfully along the seat. Your daughter
whispered, "Father, we can make room for her." And you answered:
"Let her find another seat; I don't wish to be crowded." Thus
repressing good impulses in your child, and teaching her to be
selfish and unlady-like. The evening's entertainment began, and you
sat quite at ease, for an hour and a half, while many were standing
in the aisles. Sir, there was not even the gentleman in form here;
much less the gentleman from naturally kind feelings. As to
Christian principle, we will not take that into account. Do you
remember what you said as you moved through the aisles to the door?

"No."

A friend remarked that he had been obliged to stand all the evening,
and you replied:

"We had it comfortable enough. I always manage that, in public
places."

He didn't understand all you meant; but, there is One who did.

How was it in the same place only a few nights previously? You went
there alone, and happened to be late. The house was well filled in
the upper portion, but thinly occupied below the centre. Now you are
bound to have the best place, under all circumstances, if it can be
obtained. But all the best seats were well filled; and to crowd more
into them, would be to diminish the comfort of all. No matter. You
saw a little space in one of the desirable seats, and into it you
passed, against the remonstrance of looks, and even half uttered
objections. A lady by your side, not in good health, was so crowded
in consequence, and made so uncomfortable, that she could not listen
with any satisfaction to the eloquent lecture she had come to hear.

We need say no more about your gentlemanly conduct in public places.
Enough has been suggested to give you our full meaning.

Shall we go on? Do you call for other incidents in proof of our
assumption? Shall we follow you into other walks of life?

"No."

Very well. And, now, to press the matter home: Do you, in the sight
of that precept we have quoted, justify such conduct in a man who
takes the name of Christian? It was not gentlemanly, in any right
sense of the word; and not being so, can it be Christian?

"Perhaps not."

Assuredly not. And you may depend upon it, sir, that your
profession, and faith, and church-going, and ordinance-observing,
will not stand you in that day when the book of your life is opened
in the presence of God. If there has been no genuine love of the
neighbor--no self-abnegation--no self-denial for the good of others,
all the rest will go for nothing, and you will pass over to abide
forever with spirits of a like quality with your own.

Who made us your judge? We judge no man! But only point to the law
of Christian life as given by God himself. If you wish to dwell with
him, you must obey his laws; and obedience to these will make you
nothing less than a Christian gentleman--that is, a gentleman in
heart as well as in appearance.


THE END.
"All's For the Best", by T. S. Arthur _


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