阿 NO. IX. " IT IS NO BUSINESS OF MINE." Do not always approve the proceedings of my friends and neighbours; but I have my own concerns and duties to attend to, and cannot spare time to criticise the actions of others; it is no business of mine." When made use of in this sense, how true and wise is this oft-quoted saying! But, unfortunately, it is comparatively seldom spoken from so commendable and Christian a motive. More often it is used in a spirit akin to that of Cain when he asked, "Am I my brother's keeper ?" Or that of him who inquired of the Saviour, "Who is my neighbour ?" as if striving to exonerate himself from any responsibility in the well-being of those around him. If not in the actual words, it was in the spirit of this expression that the priest and Levite offered no help to the wounded man whom they saw on the road. The priest was perhaps, on some errand connected with his sacred office, and ready to admonish and reprove any whom he found erring; doubtless he had often told his people to do their duty to those around them; yet the sight of the sufferer by the wayside roused no emotion in his own heart: his duties lay elsewhere; it was no business of his. And so with the Levite. A passing sensation of compassion he probably felt at the sight of that helpless being, for "he came and looked on him," as if thinking whether or not he should offer assistance, but he offered none: it was no business of his. Herein was the difference between them and the Samaritan; the latter made it his business to help the suffering stranger, although on a journey, and time very likely an object; not grudging the use of his own oil and wine, nor the cost of the shelter and care which he procured for the wounded man whom he never saw before, and to whom he was only bound by the tie of their common humanity. If, instead of feeling that the cares, sorrows, or joys of others are nothing to us, we would open our hearts in loving sympathy to all around, how much more it would be in accordance with the spirit of Him who "went about doing good," and who ever bent a listening ear to all who came to Him, and not only those, for He came to seek and to save those who were lost. There are none who can truly say when they see those around them either sinning or suffering, "It is no business of mine;" for even if we cannot reach the sinner or sufferer by our words, we at least can pray that the one may find penitence and pardon, and that the other may be relieved in God's own time. Even in this Christian land thousands are perishing for lack of knowledge, passing out of this world having scarcely heard the Saviour's name, and without a thought of the awful realities of death and judgment. Is it no business of ours to seek out such, and tell them of Him who so loved the world that He gave His Son to be the propitiation for our sins; and of that Son who, after a life of suffering on earth, died that we might not die eternally? Alas! for the number of souls which are hurrying into eternity, not only without having washed their robes in the blood of the Lamb, but even without having been told that there is a fountain opened for sin and uncleanness. Or do we know some who are at enmity with each other? We may say, "Let them settle it between themselves; it is no business of mine." True, it is not our business to judge between them, and decide which party is in the wrong, but let us remember it is said, "Blessed are the peacemakers." A few kind words judiciously uttered may soften the heart, and induce the proud spirit to relent; thus may we, with God's blessing on our efforts, restore happiness to those who had been estranged, and obtain for ourselves the promised blessing, "they shall be called the children of God." "It is no business of mine." Alas, at the last day how many will stand convicted of having thus deadened the appeals of conscience! The hungry, the thirsty cross our path-it is not our business to supply them with the necessities of life; let them go to some charitable institution. One whom we knew in his earlier days has been tempted into crime and is now in prison—it is not our business to seek him out; there is an appointed chaplain, the rules are strict, and perhaps we should be denied admittance. Our poor neighbours are shivering in their scanty clothing-it is no business of ours to provide them with warmer garments, it is the work of a Dorcas society. Such and such a person is lying ill-I cannot spare time to visit him; it is not my business, it belongs to the doctor and the relieving officer. Such are the excuses we urge, rather than go forth from our comfortable fireside, or exchange a favourite pursuit for a work of mercy. But the day will come! yes, dear reader, we say not it may come, but most assuredly it will come, when, before the searching eye of the Judge, and our own startled conscience, these lost opportunities will stand forth, stripped of all excuses. Again we shall seem to see before us those who hungered and thirsted, and shall know we gave no meat or drink to our Saviour. We shall see again the sad and lonely prisoner, and know that in him we did not visit our Saviour. The remembrance of our poorly-clad neighbour will come before us, and we shall hear the Saviour say, "Ye clothed Me not." Again we shall seem to see that sick sufferer, and shall hear our Saviour say that, in him, “I was sick, and ye visited Me not." But that solemn day is not yet come. Thank God, there is yet time for us to rouse ourselves from the spirit of selfishness and apathy which prompts us to neglect a duty with the excuse, "It is no business of mine." "While we have time, let us do good unto all men;" not from a mistaken idea that we shall win heaven by means of our good works, but from love to Him through whose merits alone we can be saved, remembering that "all our righteousnesses are as filthy rags," and that even our best deeds can only be accepted when washed in the blood of the Lamb. HATEVER outward blessings may do for us, they cannot reach our principal exigences. They profit not in the day of wrath, nor deliver from death, nor evince the friendship of God, nor relieve the burdened conscience, nor heal the wounded spirit, nor content the cravings of an immortal mind. Yea, we must also remember that we are in peculiar danger from these enjoyments. The peril is, that we trust in uncertain riches, and not in the living God, who giveth us richly all things to enjoy; that we make the creature a substitute for the Creator; that we love the heart of a stranger; that we forget our resting-place; that our thoughts are drawn off from home by the agreeableness and delights of the way; that our tables become a snare; and our prosperity destroys us. The writer, some years ago, in a neighbouring city, received in the pulpit the following note: "The prayers of this congregation are earnestly desired for a man who is prospering in his worldly concerns." And if he did this sincerely-and there is no reason to question it—the man showed an acquaintance with the weakness and depravity of human nature. He had studied himself; he had observed others. He had also read his Bible to purpose, which informed him how David in his prosperity said, "I shall not be moved;" how Hezekiah, when delivered, recovered, honoured, "rendered not according to the benefit done him, for his heart was lifted up;" how Jeshurun waxed fat and kicked" then he forsook God which made him, and lightly esteemed the Rock of his salvation." Yet earthly blessings are good in themselves, and display the bounty and kindness of God, and yield a thousand comforts and advantages. And who could imagine they were bestowed upon those who are not worthy of the least of all His mercies; yea, upon rebels who deserve His wrath? Surely it becomes the possessors to be thankful, and to say, "Bless the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all His benefits." -Jay. Art thou tossed, my Brother? "But the ship was now in the midst of the sea, tossed with waves: for the wind was contrary."-Matt. xiv. 24. RT thou tossed, my brother, ART On the ocean's foam? Is thy vessel drifting Far away from home? Roar the billows round thee? There is One who guideth Every wind that roars; Do the billows buffet With a sound of dread? Past those foamy shallows Where the lilies lie. Holy help is nigh. Leave it with thy Pilot: Though the tempests swell, And the foam is flying, All will yet be well. Courage, brother, courage; |