No. XXII.REPENTANCE

"And thus he bore without abuseThe grand old name of gentleman."

"And thus he bore without abuse

The grand old name of gentleman."

We are often sorry when we do wrong; this is the first step towards Repentance; but Repentance itself is more than being sorry; it is ceasing to do wrong, and beginning to do right.

Man differs from the most intelligent of the lower animals in having a moral nature, called a soul; that is, he is responsible for his actions. One great evidence of this is to be found in the fact that, after he has done evil, his conscience generally reproaches him sharply, and he feels remorse, which is the keen pain brought about by the memory of wrongdoing. But we must not mistake this pain of remorse for Repentance. It should be the beginning of Repentance; but Repentance itself must go much further than that.

Two men with evil-looking faces were seen to enter a great church in Rome one day, where, in little chapels attached to the church, people were making confession of their sins to the priests, and obtaining absolution from them. These two men looked as though something very serious was weighingon their minds, as they searched for a priest to whom to confess. A short time after they had found one, they were again seen, coming down the aisle of the church, laughing together, and looking as jolly as possible. Next day they were arrested for attacking a traveller on the highway and almost murdering him. Probably those two men felt the pangs of remorse when they were in the church seeking to confess their sins. But there was no Repentance, because they went back at once to their evil courses.

A sick man was said by his doctor to be dying. His clergyman came to see him, and begged him to be reconciled to a neighbour with whom he had had a serious quarrel. At last he consented, and when the neighbour was brought to his bedside they had a short, friendly conversation, and shook hands. But as the neighbour was leaving the room, the sick man called out: "But you must remember this stands for nothing if I get better again." There was no real Repentance in the sick man's heart.

A man who had been living a very careless and sinful life went to hear a great man preach. The sermon had such an effect upon him that his conscience became very uneasy, and he felt keen remorse for the evil of his life, and determined to stop it all and begin again in a different way. He first went to see a neighbourwho scoffed at religious things, and who, the moment he went in, began to ask him about the great preacher, and to make fun of him for paying much attention to what was "absurd, and all a lie." The man replied: "Never mind the preacher just now; I want to tell you about a very serious matter. Four years ago you lost two fine sheep out of your flock, and though you searched everywhere you could not find them. Those sheep came into my pasture field, and I caught them, and marked my brand on top of yours, and so they were not discovered. But I have now come to tell you of the matter, and to put myself in your hands. You can, if you like, have me arrested, or I will pay you whatever you ask." The neighbour was astonished, but at last said he would take the value of the sheep, with interest on the money from the time they were stolen. The man paid this down, and then doubled the amount. After he had gone his neighbour began to think that the sort of religion which made a man confess a sin long past, and which no one could ever find out, must have some reality about it, and he scoffed no more. That is a case of genuine Repentance.

Happy is the man who repents while there is yet the opportunity to undo, to some extent, the evil he has done. Some men repent when it is too late to undo the mischief. Henry II., King of England, rodefrom London to Canterbury in the night, and when he came to the gates he dismounted, and walked barefooted to the shrine of the martyr. He there made public confession of his sin, and was scourged with a knotted cord before the people, though he was then king. Imagine the Emperor of Germany being publicly scourged! Though Henry repented, he could not bring Becket back to life again. Henry Ward Beecher told the story of a young man who came to Indianapolis, when Mr. Beecher was minister there, on his way to settle in the west. While there he was robbed in a gambling saloon of fifteen hundred dollars, all that he had. It led to his suicide. "I know the man who committed the foul deed; he used to walk up and down the street. Now, suppose this man should repent? Can he ever call back that suicide? Can he ever wipe off the taint and disgrace that he has brought on the escutcheon of that young man's family?"

Everybody has need of practising Repentance, because no one can live a perfect life. Goldsmith said: "Our greatest glory consists not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall." If we rise again every time we fall, there is but little danger that we ever fall so low that we cannot rise at all, or of doing that which we cannot, to some extent, put right.

"Confess yourself to Heaven;Repent what's past, avoid what is to come."

"Confess yourself to Heaven;

Repent what's past, avoid what is to come."

It is unwise to put off Repentance. It should be done now. The opportunity may slip away from us altogether. As a wise man once said: "I know that a man, going—swept down that great Niagara—if his little skiff be driven near to one shore, he can make one great bound and reach the solid ground—I knowhe may be savedfrom destruction: but it is an awful risk to run."

We can best learn the value of Repentance by practising it in little things. If a boy is guilty of rudeness to any one, and especially to a lady, he should go at once and, in a manly way, acknowledge it. The fact that he has begged her pardon will keep him from committing the same offence again. If we practise Repentance in the small matters of daily life, it will be easier for us to practise it in things of great and serious moment.

The word Character comes from a Greek word meaning to cut, or engrave. By Character we mean the peculiar qualities impressed by Nature or Habit on a person; in other words, what he really is.

Character is the crown of life; to the evil it is a crown of infamy; to the good, a crown of glory. Some scientists believe that all the facts of knowledge which we acquire are stamped upon the brain, making many grooves and creases upon its surface. Our actions and thoughts and words and habits being impressed upon the soul form its Character. The formation of good Character takes many years, and is a very gradual process; but every action has its part in the final result, and every habit binds the parts together. Bad Character is developed in the same way as good character; but the process is easy and rapid. A boy begins by stealing something; soon he is led on to lie about it. One lie leads to another, and the success of the bad experiment leads to another theft and more lying. Bad companions soon gather round him, andthe sprouting plant of evil grows like a weed. Ere long it has fastened its thousand roots in the depths of his soul.

Gibbon said: "Every man has two educations—one which he receives from others, and one, more important, which he gives himself." In the business world, the men of highest reputation value their Character above everything else, because no one can take it from them, unless they deliberately yield it. It is valued highly, because it has been earned by never-wavering effort through long years. They have educated themselves by unceasing practice to put Truth and Honour, Chastity and Courtesy, Industry and Temperance, Self-Reliance and Self-Control, Modesty and Charity, Justice and Benevolence above Cleverness and Love of Gain, which so often make a man unscrupulous in dealing with his fellows.

In the studies which have gone before, we have seen what these qualities mean. They go to make up Character. But Character cannot be produced by learning lessons about it in books. Character is the education which a man gives himself. In reading the lives of great men, we see very clearly that they began to acquire the qualities which afterwards distinguished them when they were boys. A great writer has said that Conduct is three-fourths of life. If wewish to be distinguished for Character, we must begin to practise those things which produce it while we are schoolboys.

The grand thing about Character is that it is independent of circumstances. The man who values Honour above all things cannot be put into any position where there is any real danger of losing it. After the great battle of Assaye, the native prince sent his prime minister to the Duke of Wellington to find out privately what territory and other advantages would be secured to his master in the treaty with the Indian nabobs. They offered Wellington five hundred thousand dollars for the secret information. The great general looked at him quietly for a few seconds, and then said: "It appears, then, that you are capable of keeping a secret." "Yes, certainly," replied the minister. "Then, so am I," said Wellington, smiling, and bowed him out of the room. Take another instance, in humble life. Once, when the Adige was in flood, the bridge of Verona was carried away, only the centre arch standing. On this was a house whose inmates called loudly for help, as this arch was slowly giving way. A nobleman called out, "I will give a hundred French louis to any one who will go to the rescue." A young peasant seized a boat, managed with great difficulty to reach the pier, and, at the riskof his life, rescued the family just in time. When they reached the shore, the count handed the promised money to the young man. "No," said he, "I do not sell my life; give the money to these poor people, who need it."

The man of noble Character values, above all other things, these: Truth, personal Honour, Moral Courage, Unselfishness, the Voice of Conscience. Chaucer, the father of English poetry, said:

"Truth is the highest thing that man may keep."

In the days of chivalry, the noble-hearted soldier sang to her who wept at his going:

"I could not love thee, dear, so much,Loved I not honour more."

"I could not love thee, dear, so much,

Loved I not honour more."

Of Courage, Addison said:

"Unbounded courage and compassion joined,Tempting each other in the victor's mind,Alternately proclaim him good and great,And make the hero and the man complete."

"Unbounded courage and compassion joined,

Tempting each other in the victor's mind,

Alternately proclaim him good and great,

And make the hero and the man complete."

Of Selfishness, Shelley said:

"How vainly seekThe selfish for that happiness deniedTo aught but virtue!"

"How vainly seek

The selfish for that happiness denied

To aught but virtue!"

The voice of Conscience is the voice of God, That voice was never yet disregarded without suffering; to reject Conscience is to incur retribution.The wise man cultivates his Conscience; that is, he listens for its warnings and suggestions, and yields his desires at its call. The man of Character seeks its advice at every important movement of his life.

It is impossible to build up a noble Character without a model. Before beginning to erect a magnificent building, the architect must provide a plan for the workman to follow. The shipbuilder requires a model for the construction of a beautiful racing yacht. Before making a new and intricate machine, the craftsman must have a working model. In the building of Character, the working model is Jesus of Nazareth. He is the example to the human race of all the traits of true manliness which men admire. He is the model of willing Obedience, of undaunted Courage, of absolute Truthfulness, of Generosity, of Gentleness to the weak and suffering. He is the model of all the virtues. An old poet said of Jesus, with the greatest reverence, that He was

"The first true gentleman that ever lived."

He who sincerely wishes to build up his life into noble Character will be helped by nothing so much as by the study of the actions and words of Jesus, the model of nobleness to all men, in all ages, since He came into the world.

Conscience is that faculty of the mind which teaches us to distinguish between right and wrong. It often warns us when we are about to do wrong, and reproaches us for the wrong we have done.

A great man once said that when he was a small boy he was walking one day by the side of a pond, when he saw a turtle creeping out of the water. He had never yet killed anything, and he felt a great temptation to kill it with his stick, when some one seemed to whisper to him: "It is wrong." He went home and asked his mother what it was. She told him that men called it Conscience; but she called it the voice of God, speaking in his heart. He said that he often afterwards tried to listen for the voice, and it kept him from much wrong that he would otherwise have done.

Conscience has been compared to the needle in the sailor's compass; by its means the ship is kept upon her proper course. If we consult Conscience, we cannot go far astray. A boy is about to steal somemoney for the first time. Just as his hand is upon it, he fancies he hears steps approaching. He hastily drops the money, and turns away with a beating heart. But he finds he is mistaken, and, perhaps, thinks it was only imagination. He is wrong; the beating heart and the imaginary noises are Conscience warning him that he is about to do wrong. If he is an unthinking boy, he merely laughs at his fears, and next day goes back again. This time helistens for the sound of steps, but he does not hear them. The fact that he listened shows that Conscience has been at him again; but this time the warning is fainter, and he commits the theft. It is possible to stifle Conscience altogether.

According to an Eastern tale, a great magician presented his prince with a ring of great value. Its value did not consist in the precious stones it contained, but in a peculiar property of the metal. Whenever the prince had a bad or lustful thought, or meditated a bad action, or was about to say a wicked, or cruel, or unjust thing, the ring contracted, and the pain caused by the pressure on the finger warned him against the evil. The poorest person may possess and wear such a ring as that, for the ring of the fable is just that Conscience which is the voice of God in our hearts.

When Macbeth was on his way to murder King Duncan, he had a frightful vision of what he was about to do, and he saw an imaginary dagger beckoning him the way that he was going; the handle was towards his hand, and had gouts of blood upon it. That was Conscience calling upon him to stop before it was too late. Conscience sometimes speaks to us while we are actually doing evil.

While Conscience speaks to us about what are, for us, great wrongs, it seldom does so about little wrongs until they are over and passed away. A boy says: "I do many things of which I am ashamed, and which I would not have done had Conscience warned me." That shows us very plainly that Conscience is a thing we must cultivate if it is to be of any real service to us in the way of preventing us from the doing of evil. A. says to B.: "I am going across to the corner store for some candy. If that master over there should see me, you tell him I have just gone over the fence after something." B. thinks for a moment, and says: "Can't do it; it's not straight." A. then asks C., who agrees to do it. B. consults Conscience; C. does not. If they go on thus, in a few years B. will meet some great temptation and overcome it; C. will meet some great temptation, and fall under it.

If we do not form the habit of looking to Conscience for guidance, the time will come when its voice will be heard reproaching us for the evil that we have done, and that we can never undo. So common is it for men to think of Conscience only when the harm is done that it has been called "the awful compulsion to think." Half the grief that people suffer is through their own sins in the past, and it is Conscience pricking them that causes the grief. Sometimes this grief is so terrible that men, and even women, are led to take their own lives. He who listens to Conscience will never leave this world with the red blot of "suicide" staining his character.

Dr. Johnson said: "Conscience is the sentinel of virtue." The wise captain never lets his men sleep on the field without posting one or more sentinels. The young man going out into the world is going on to the battlefield of his life, and to be caught napping is to fall into the enemy's hands. He needs all his forces, and, above all, the sentinel, Conscience, to keep guard when the enemy is lying in ambush, and danger seems far away. St. Paul tells us that if we wish to war a good warfare we must have two things, "Faith, and a good Conscience."

"No whip cuts so sharply as the lash of Conscience."

"The voice of Conscience is so delicate that it is easy to stifle it; but it is also so clear that it is impossible to mistake it."

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