Psalm 116:11 I said in my haste, All men are liars. The Cynics were a sect of philosophers among the Greeks, founded by Antisthenes, who, on account of his snappish, snarling propensities, was frequently called "The Dog"; and probably enough it may have been on account of this that his school of philosophy was called the "Cynic" or "Dog" school. He was stern, proud, and unsympathetic. He taught that all human pleasure was to be despised. He was ostentatiously careless as to the opinions, the feelings, and the esteem of others. He used to appear in a threadbare dress, so that Socrates once exclaimed, "I see your pride, Antisthenes, peeping through the holes in your cloak!" His temper was morose, and his language was coarse and indecent. His disciple, Diogenes, even "bettered the instruction," living, it is said, in a tub, and peering about the streets with a lantern in the daytime, in search, as he alleged, of a man! It was part of his system to outrage common decency, and he snarled and growled even more bitterly and insolently than his predecessor. It is from this old school of philosophy that we derive the term cynicism; and we commonly apply it, now-a-days, to that mood or habit of mind which looks out upon mankind with cold and bitter feeling, which finds little or nothing to admire in human character and action, which systematically depreciates human motives, which rejoices to catch men tripping, which sneers where others reverence, and dissects where others admire, and is hard where others pity, and suspects where others praise. It would appear, then, to have been some such mood as this through which the psalmist had been passing. With him, however, the mood seems to have been but transient. For a time his soul was darkened by its baleful shadow — all human goodness eclipsed for him, and his own human sympathies and affections frozen. But only for a time. He does not seem to have cherished this cynical mood. On the contrary, he seems to have been conscious of its wretchedness, and to have retained the power to pray against it. When you are tempted to "say in your haste, All men are liars," then cry with the psalmist, "O Lord, I beseech Thee, deliver my soul!" And now let me mention further one or two practical safeguards against the attitude or habit of cynicism. I. LET US CHERISH A MODEST ESTIMATE OF OUR OWN ABILITIES AND OUR OWN IMPORTANCE. A vain man is naturally exacting. He expects from others recognition, admiration, and deference; and if he does not secure the appreciation which he fancies is due to his abilities or merits, he may begin to rail at the blindness and stupidity of the world. An exacting nature, also, is apt to suspect the genuineness of an affection or friendship which is not always showing the amount of attention demanded and expected. The "milk of human kindness" — curdled somewhat at the outset by a selfish vanity — is still further soured when that vanity is wounded. A selfish ambition, too, when disappointed, is apt to leave the spirit embittered. Some of the most snarling and carping critics are men who have failed to reach the fame they coveted. And then, again, even the ordinary calamities of life, coming upon an intense egotism, will sometimes plunge a man into the cynical mood. That mankind in general should be subject to disease or to misfortune is not so strange to him; but that he himself should be thus visited surprises and chafes him. Nay, but let us cherish a modest estimate of ourselves — this is a grand safeguard against cynicism, and helps to preserve the sweetness of the spirit in times of disappointment and affliction. A humble recognition, too, of our own defects and faults will tend to keep us from harsh and censorious judgments of our brethren, and from all scornful and bitter railing at the weaknesses of humanity. II. LET US CULTIVATE THE HABIT OF LOOKING OUT FOR HUMAN EXCELLENCES, AND OF PUTTING THE MOST GENEROUS CONSTRUCTION ON HUMAN ACTIONS, The man who finds nothing to admire in others thereby reveals the shallowness of his own nature. A soul — and especially a young soul — that has no "hero-worship" in it, of some sort or other, thereby writes itself down as ignoble. The cynic who is constantly depreciating the actions and suspecting the motives of others is certainly paying no compliment to himself. A man does some deed that has a noble and worthy look about it. You know nothing whatever of the man; but you must, forsooth, begin with bitterness to insinuate that his action may not be so disinterested as it looks — that it springs, probably, from some selfish or sinister motive! What does all this mean but that you find it hard to believe in nobleness? And what does this, again, mean but that you yourself are incapable of such disinterested conduct? Nobleness believes in the possibility of nobleness, and delights to recognize it. Get into the habit, then, of looking out for excellences of character instead of picking out flaws and magnifying faults. "Charity rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth." Cultivate also the habit of putting the most generous construction on human actions. If an action can be ascribed to two possible motives, why should you ascribe it to the lower? "Charity believeth all things, and hopeth all things." III. LET US SEEK TO LOOK AT ALL MEN AS THROUGH THE EYES OF CHRIST. This is the grand antidote to the cynical spirit. Christ is our Lord; Christ is our Saviour; it is our safety and blessedness to cling to Him, and to receive His Spirit into our hearts. And the grand secret of loving and caring for and bearing with others lies in looking at them through the eyes of Him who is their Redeemer and ours. Christ "tasted death for every man." He so loved even the unworthy that He was willing to shed His blood for them. They tell us that "Love is blind"; but be sure that hatred, or even indifference, is far blinder. Love may sometimes be blind to faults, but it has a quick eye for excellences. (T. C. Finlayson.) Parallel Verses KJV: I said in my haste, All men are liars. |