their dresses, of cafés chantants and lady palmists and raffles, all of which is, possibly, harmless enough in itself, but hardly recognisable as "the sacred cause of charity." Again, "Charity vaunteth not itself … is not puffed up"; but the idea of humility is the last thing that suggests itself when we read the reports and advertisements of many charitable institutions of the present day. The percentage of success upon a huge scale claimed in these reports strikes dumb those who have been attempting similar work upon a more modest scale, and who have found the enormous difficulty of achieving real success even in a single case. There is, to say the least, a looseness of statement which it is impossible to justify. How well we know the phrase, "so many benefited." "Benefited" may mean anything from a free meal, or a pair of boots, to social salvation. But charity is supposed to "rejoice in the truth."
Perhaps it is too strong to say, as was said recently in a sermon in the West End, that some of these reports would "put to shame the fraudulent prospectus of a joint-stock company." Probably these statements are often made because their authors have not followed up sufficiently the results of their work, and really believe that if they have given somebody something they have relieved poverty. In other cases there is undoubtedly a tendency to think that exaggeration is necessary, and even justifiable, in appealing for public support.
Or again, looking at it from another point of view, is the "charity" which rejoices in being taken in, the charity which "rejoiceth in the truth"? We all know the phrase, "I had sooner be deceived ninety-nine times than send one deserving person away unhelped." We send cheques to begging-letter writers with a sort of comfortable assurance that we are being deceived. We forget that for
