Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have not charity, I am become as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal. And though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries, and all knowledge; and though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, and have not charity, I am nothing. And though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and though I give my body to be burned, and have not charity, it profiteth me nothing.
[KJV (1611)]

Though I command languages both human and angelic -- if I speak without love, I am no more than a gong booming or a cymbal clashing. And though I have the power of prophecy, to penetrate all mysteries and knowledge, and though I have all the faith necessary to move mountains -- if I am without love, I am nothing. Though I should give away to the poor all that I possess, and even give up my body to be burned -- if I am without love, it will do me no good whatever.
[NJB (1985)]

I may be able to speak the languages of human beings and even of angels, but if I have no love, my speech is no more than a noisy gong or a clanging bell. I may have the gift of inspired preaching; I may have all knowledge and understand all secrets; I may have all the faith needed to move mountains -- but if I have no love, I am nothing. I may give away everything I have, and even give up my body to be burned -- but if I have no love, this does me no good.
[GNT (1992 ed.)]

If I speak in tongues of human beings and of angels but I don’t have love, I’m a clanging gong or a clashing cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and I know all the mysteries and everything else, and if I have such complete faith that I can move mountains but I don’t have love, I’m nothing. If I give away everything that I have and hand over my own body to feel good about what I’ve done but I don’t have love, I receive no benefit whatsoever.
[CEB (2011)]

If I speak in the tongues of humans and of angels but do not have love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. And if I have prophetic powers and understand all mysteries and all knowledge and if I have all faith so as to remove mountains but do not have love, I am nothing. If I give away all my possessions and if I hand over my body so that I may boast[a] but do not have love, I gain nothing.
[NRSV (2021 ed.)]

The whole group of believers was united, heart and soul; no one claimed for his own use anything that he had, as everything they owned was held in common. [...] None of their members was ever in want, as all those who owned land or houses would sell them, and bring the money from them, to present it to the apostles; it was then distributed to any members who might be in need.
[JB (1966)]

The whole group of believers was united, heart and soul; no one claimed private ownership of any possessions, as everything they owned was held in common. [...] None of their members was ever in want, as all those who owned land or houses would sell them, and bring the money from the sale of them, to present it to the apostles; it was then distributed to any who might be in need.
[NJB (1985)]

The group of believers was one in mind and heart. None of them said that any of their belongings were their own, but they all shared with one another everything they had. [...] There was no one in the group who was in need. Those who owned fields or houses would sell them, bring the money received from the sale, and turn it over to the apostles; and the money was distributed according to the needs of the people.
[GNT (1992 ed.)]

The community of believers was one in heart and mind. None of them would say, “This is mine!” about any of their possessions, but held everything in common. [...] There were no needy persons among them. Those who owned properties or houses would sell them, bring the proceeds from the sales, and place them in the care and under the authority of the apostles. Then it was distributed to anyone who was in need.
[CEB (2011)]

Now the whole group of those who believed were of one heart and soul, and no one claimed private ownership of any possessions, but everything they owned was held in common. [...] There was not a needy person among them, for as many as owned lands or houses sold them and brought the proceeds of what was sold. They laid it at the apostles’ feet, and it was distributed to each as any had need.
[NRSV (2021 ed.)]

How now, who is heare?
I Robin of Doncastere,
And Margaret, my feare [wife]:
That I spent, that I had,
That I gave, that I have,
That I left, that I lost
A. D. 1579.
Quoth Robertus Byrks, who in this World did reign Three score years and seven, & yet lived not one.

And if ye lend to them of whom ye hope to receive, what thank have ye? for sinners also lend to sinners, to receive as much again. But love ye your enemies, and do good, and lend, hoping for nothing again; and your reward shall be great, and ye shall be the children of the Highest: for he is kind unto the unthankful and to the evil.
[KJV (1611)]

And if you lend to those from whom you hope to receive, what thanks can you expect? Even sinners lend to sinners to get back the same amount. Instead, love your enemies and do good, and lend without any hope of return. You will have a great reward, and you will be sons of the Most High, for he himself is kind to the ungrateful and the wicked.
[JB (1966)]

And if you lend to those from whom you hope to get money back, what credit can you expect? Even sinners lend to sinners to get back the same amount. Instead, love your enemies and do good to them, and lend without any hope of return. You will have a great reward, and you will be children of the Most High, for he himself is kind to the ungrateful and the wicked.
[NJB (1985)]

If you lend to those from whom you expect repayment, why should you be commended? Even sinners lend to sinners expecting to be paid back in full. Instead, love your enemies, do good, and lend expecting nothing in return. If you do, you will have a great reward. You will be acting the way children of the Most High act, for he is kind to ungrateful and wicked people.
[CEB (2011)]

If you lend to those from whom you expect to receive payment, what credit is that to you? Even sinners lend to sinners, to receive as much again. Instead, love your enemies, do good, and lend, expecting nothing in return. Your reward will be great, and you will be children of the Most High, for he himself is kind to the ungrateful and the wicked.
[NRSV (2021 ed.)]

Therfore, the surplus of thy goodes applye to better ende.
Why wante the silly needie soules refreshyng at thy hande?
Why doo the temples of the gods, without repayryng stande?
Thou corsye carle, thy countrey dere, from hougie substance suche
Shall she have naught, wylt onely thou devoure alone so muche?
[tr. Drant (1567)]

What then? Can there no better way be found
To spend that Wealth, with which you so abound?
Why should so many brave men want? and why
Should the Gods ancient Temples ruin'd lie
While you are rich? Vile wretch! Why wilt not thou
Out of thy needless store something allow
For thy dear Countries good?
[tr. A. F.; ed. Brome (1666)]

Then is there no way else to spend thy Store?
Why since thou'rt Rich, is any good Man Poor?
Why are not ruin'd Fanes rebuilt? And why
Doth not thy Wealth thy Neighbours wants supply?
And hath thy Country this superfluous Coin?
What measure hath it from this heap of Thine?
[tr. Creech (1684)]

And is there then, I ask, no other end
On which the surplus thou might'st nobly spend?
Say, why does merit starve in rags? or say,
Why fall our ancient temples to decay?
Why not from those superfluous hoards bestow
A mite to sooth thy burthen'd country's woe?
[tr. Howes (1845)]

Why then have you no better method of expending your superfluities? Why is any man, undeserving [of distressed circumstances], in want, while you abound? How comes it to pass, that the ancient temples of the gods are falling to ruin? Why do not you, wretch that you are, bestow something on your dear country, out of so vast a hoard?
[tr. Smart/Buckley (1853)]

Then is there nothing on which you can spend your surplus income better? Why do any suffer want they don't deserve while you are rich? Why do the gods' time-honoured fanes fall to decay? And why, insatiate wretch, don't you mete out from those large stores of wealth some portion for your fatherland which should be dear?
[tr. Millington (1870)]

Untold indeed! then can you not expend
Your superflux on some diviner end?
Why does one good man want while you abound?
Why are Jove's temples tumbling to the ground?
O selfish! what? devote no modicum
To your dear country from so vast a sum?
[tr. Conington (1874)]

Well, is there no better object on which you can spend your surplus? Why is any worthy man in want, while you are rich? Why are the ancient temples of the gods in ruin? Why, shameless man, do you not measure out something from that great heap for your dear country?
[tr. Fairclough (Loeb) (1926)]

And therefore there's no better way for you to unload
Thie surplus? Why should a single deserving man
Be in need when you are so rich? Why do the gods' ancient temples
Fall into ruin? Why not dig into your pile
And measure some out for your own dear country, you wretch?
[tr. Palmer Bovie (1959)]

If that's so and you have more
money than you need, why not spend it in a better way?
Why is anyone poor who shouldn't be, if you're so rich?
Why do the gods' old temples need repair? You ingrate,
for your beloved country's sake can't you dip into your stash?
[tr. Fuchs (1977)]

Well, in that case, why not find a better
way to spend your surplus? Why,
so long as you are rich, should anyone be lacking
in everything through no fault of his own?
Why are the ancient temples of the gods
falling into ruin? Why, shameless one,
do you not siphon off something
from that great reservoir of money
to present to your dear country?
[tr. Alexander (1999)]

There's nothing
better you could spend your surplus for?
Why's any good man poor while you're so rich?
The temples of the gods could use repair.
Are you so shameless you'll give nothing
to your country?
[tr. Matthews (2002)]

Well then, can't you think of a better way
to get rid of your surplus? Why should any decent man
be in need while you are rich> Why, if you've any conscience,
don't you give something from that pile you've made to the land of your birth?
[tr. Rudd (2005 ed.)]

Well then, isn’t there something
Better you can spend the surplus on? Why, when you’re
Rich, are there any deserving men in need? Why are
The ancient temples of the gods in ruins? Why, man
Without shame, don’t you offer your dear country a tithe
From that vast heap?
[tr. Kline (2015)]

Once, during Lent, a young vicar came to D---, and preached in the cathedral. The subject of his sermon was charity, and he treated it very eloquently. He called upon the rich to give alms to the poor, if they would escape the tortures of hell, which he pictured in the most fearful colours, and enter that paradise which he painted as so desirable and inviting. There was a retired merchant of wealth in the audience, a little given to usury, M. Geborand, who had accumulated an estate of two millions in the manufacture of coarse cloths and serges. Never, in the whole course of his life, had M. Geborand given alms to the unfortunate ; but from the date of this sermon it was noticed that he gave regularly, every Sunday, a penny to the old beggar women at the door of the cathedral. There were six of them to share it. The bishop chanced to see him one day, as he was performing this act of charity, and said to his sister, with a smile, “See Monsieur Geborand, buying a pennyworth of paradise.”
[tr. Wilbour (1862)]

During one Lent a young vicar came to D.... and preached at the cathedral. He was rather eloquent, and the subject of his sermon was charity. He invited the rich to give to the needy in order to escape hell, which he painted in the most frightful way he could, and reach paradise, which he made desirable and charming. There was among the congregation a rich retired merchant, somewhat of an usurer, who had acquired $400,000 by manufacturing coarse cloths, serges, and caddis. In his whole lifetime M. Géborand had never given alms to a beggar, but after this sermon it was remarked that he gave every Sunday a cent to the old beggars at the cathedral gate. There were six women to share it. One day the bishop saw him bestowing his charity, and said to his sister, with a smile, “Look at M. Géborand buying a bit of paradise for a cent.”
[tr. Wraxall (1862)]

In the course of one Lent, a youthful vicar came to Digne, and preached in the cathedral. He was tolerably eloquent. The subject of his sermon was charity. He urged the rich to give to the poor, in order to avoid hell, which he depicted in the most frightful manner of which he was capable, and to win paradise, which he represented as charming and desirable. Among the audience there was a wealthy retired merchant, who was somewhat of a usurer, named M. Geborand, who had amassed two millions in the manufacture of coarse cloth, serges, and woolen galloons. Never in his whole life had M. Geborand bestowed alms on any poor wretch. After the delivery of that sermon, it was observed that he gave a sou every Sunday to the poor old beggar-women at the door of the cathedral. There were six of them to share it. One day the Bishop caught sight of him in the act of bestowing this charity, and said to his sister, with a smile, "There is M. Geborand purchasing paradise for a sou."
[tr. Hapgood (1887)]

Once, during Lent, a young vicar came to Digne, and preached in the cathedral. The subject of his sermon was charity, and he treated it very eloquently. He called upon the rich to give alms to the poor, if they were to escape the tortures of hell, which he pictured in the most fearful colors, and enter paradise, which he portrayed as desirable and inviting. There was a wealthy retired merchant at the service, somewhat inclined to usury, a M. Geborand, who had accumulated an estate of two million from manufacturing coarse cloth and woolens. Never in all his life had M. Geborand given alms to the unfortunate; but from the day of this sermon it was noticed that regularly every Sunday he gave a penny to the old beggar women at the door of the cathedral. There were six of them to share it. One day the bishop, seeing him perform this act of charity, said to his sister with a smile, 'There's Monsieur Geborand, buying a pennyworth of paradise."
[tr. Wilbour/Fahnestock/MacAfee (1987)]

Once, during Lent, a young vicar came to Digne and preached in the cathedral. He was quite eloquent. The subject of his sermon was charity. He urged the rich to give to the poor so to as avoid going to hell, which he depicted in the most dreadful terms he could, and to get to parasdise, which he represented as desirable and delightful. Among hsi audience was a somewhat tight-fisted retired wealthy merchant named Monsieur Géborand, who had amassed half a million in the manufacture of coarse cloth, serge, caddis and felt caps. Monsieur Géborand had never in his life been charitable to any poor unfortunate. After that sermon it was noticed he gave one sou every Sunday to the old beggar-women at the cathedral door. They had to share it between six of them. One day the bishop saw him making his donation and said to his sister with a smile, "There's Monsieur Géborand buying one sou's worth of paradise."
[tr. Donougher (2013)]

But Scripture teaches nothing but charity, nor condemns anything except cupidity, and in this way shapes the minds of men.
[tr. Robertson (1958)]

Scripture enjoins nothing but love, and centures nothing but lust, and moulds men's minds accordingly.
[tr. Green (1995)]

What we gave, we have;
What we spent, we had;
What we left, we lost.

We keep things by giving them to others. The dead carry in their clenched hands only that which they have given away; and the living carry only the love in their hearts which they have bestowed on others.

Omnesque mutuam amplecteremur unitatem in necessariis, in non necessariis libertatem, in omnibus caritatem.

[And let us all embrace one another, unity in what is necessary, liberty in what is not necessary, charity in all things.]

If nature does not ratify law, all the virtues lose their sway. What becomes of generosity, patriotism, or friendship? Where should we find the desire of benefitting our neighbours, or the gratitude that acknowledges kindness? For all these virtues proceed from our natural inclination to love and cherish our associates.
[tr. Barham (1842)]

And if Nature is not to be considered the foundation of Justice, that will mean the destruction [of the virtues on which human society depends]. For where then will there be a place for generosity, or love of country, or loyalty, or the inclination to be of service to others, or to show gratitude for favours received? For these virtues originate in our natural inclination to love our fellow-men, and this is the foundation of Justice.
[tr. Keyes (1928)]

That is why every virtue is abolished if nature is not going to support justice. What room will there be for liberality, patriotism, and devotion; or for the wish to serve others or to show gratitude? These virtues are rooted in the fact that we are inclined by nature to have a regard for others; and that is the basis of justice.
[tr. Rudd (1998)]

If nature will not confirm justice, all the virtues will be eliminated. Where will there be a place for liberality, for love of country, for piety, for the desire to do well by others or return kindness? These all arise because we are inclined by nature to love other humans, and that is the foundation of justice.
[tr. Zetzel (1999)]

And if right has not been confirmed by nature, they may be eliminated. In fact, where will liberality be able to exist, where affection for the fatherland, where piety, where the will either to deserve well of another or to or to return a service? These things originate in this, that we are inclined by nature to to cherish human beings; that is the foundation of right.
[tr. Fott (2013)]

To have and not give is in some instances worse than stealing.
[tr. Scrase/Mieder (1994)]

We must be especially careful to observe the mitzvah of tzedakah, more so than any other positive mitzvah, for tzedakah is a sign of the righteous [tzadik] lineage of Abraham, our father.
[tr. Meszler (2003)]

Nothing will make us so charitable and tender to the faults of others as by self-examination thoroughly to know our own.
[Source (1895)]

Humility renders us charitable towards our neighbor; nothing will make us so tender and indulgent to the faults of others as a view of our own.
[tr. Metcalf (1853)]

Therefore bold Trojans to our Court advance;
We in such dangers tost, and various chance
At length our selves did in this countrey plant,
I know t'help others, taught by my own want.
[tr. Ogilby (1649)]

Enter, my noble guest, and you shall find,
If not a costly welcome, yet a kind:
For I myself, like you, have been distress'd,
Till Heav'n afforded me this place of rest;
Like you, an alien in a land unknown,
I learn to pity woes so like my own.
[tr. Dryden (1697)]

Then enter, chiefs, these friendly doors;
I too have had my fate, like yours,
Which, many a suffering overpast,
Has willed to fix me here at last.
Myself not ignorant of woe,
Compassion I have learned to show.
[tr. Conington (1866)]

Come then, O warriors, enter our abodes!
I also from calamities like yours
Have suffered much, till here I set my feet.
Not ignorant of trouble, I have learned
To succor the distressed
[tr. Cranch (1872), l. 817ff]

Come therefore, O men, and enter our house. Me too hath a like fortune driven through many a woe, and willed at last to find my rest in this land. Not ignorant of ill do I learn to succour the afflicted.
[tr. Mackail (1885)]

So hasten now to enter in 'neath roofs of me and mine.
Me too a fortune such as yours, me tossed by many a toil,
Hath pleased to give abiding-place at last upon this soil,
Learned in illhaps full wise am I unhappy men to aid.
[tr. Morris (1900)]

Welcome, then, heroes! Me hath Fortune willed
Long tost, like you, through sufferings, here to rest
And find at length a refuge. Not unskilled
In woe, I learn to succour the distrest.
[tr. Taylor (1907), st. 83, l. 739ff]

Therefore, behold, our portals are swung wide
for all your company. I also bore
hard fate like thine. I too was driven of storms
and after long toil was allowed at last
to call this land my home. O, I am wise
in sorrow, and I help all suffering souls!
[tr. Williams (1910)]

Come therefore, sirs, and pass within our halls. Me, too, has a like fortune driven through many toils, and willed that at last I should find rest in this land. Not ignorant of ill do I learn to befriend the unhappy.
[tr. Fairclough (1916)]

Enter my house. I, too, am fortune-driven
Through many sufferings; this land at last
Has brought me rest. Not ignorant of evil,
I know one thing, at least, -- to help the wretched.
[tr. Humphries (1951)]

So, gentlemen, do not hesitate to come under my roof.
I too have gone through much; like you, have been roughly handled
By fortune; but now at last it has willed me to settle here.
Being acquainted with grief, I am learning to help the unlucky.
[tr. Day Lewis (1952)]

Thus, young men, you are welcome to our halls.
My destiny, like yours, has willed that I,
a veteran of hardships, halt at last
in this country. Not ignorant of trials,
I now can learn to help the miserable.
[tr. Mandelbaum (1971), l. 878ff]

Come, then, soldiers, be our guests. My life
Was one of hardship and forced wandering
Like your own, till in this land at length
Fortune would have me rest. Through pain I've learned
To comfort suffering men.
[tr. Fitzgerald (1981)]

This is why I now invite your warriors to come into my house. I, too, have known ill fortune like yours and been tossed from one wretchedness to another until at last I have been allowed to settle in this land. Through my own suffering, I am learning to help those who suffer.
[tr. West (1990)]

So come, young lords, and enter our palace.
Fortune, pursuing me too, through many similar troubles,
willed that I would find peace at last in this land.
Not being unknown to evil, I’ve learned to aid the unhappy.
[tr. Kline (2002)]

And so, young men, come under my roof.
My fortune too has long been adverse
But at last has allowed me to rest in this land.
My own acquaintance with suffering
Has taught me to aid others in need.
[tr. Lombardo (2005), l. 767]

So come, young men, enter my home. Fortune once harassed me with hardship like your own. At last, the fates let me settle in this land. Knowing pain, I can learn to help the pain of others.
[tr. Bartsch (2021)]

This man, minding nought
But his relief, a poor unhappy wretch,
Wrack’d here, and hath no other land to fetch,
Him now we must provide for. From Jove come
All strangers, and the needy of a home,
Who any gift, though ne’er so small it be,
Esteem as great, and take it gratefully.
[tr. Chapman (1616)]

But by evil weather
To come to land this man hath forced been;
Let’s do him good. From Jove come beggars all,
And welcome to them is whate’er they get;
Our givings to him will be very small.
[tr. Hobbes (1675), l. 195ff]

'Tis ours this son of sorrow to relieve,
Cheer the sad heart, nor let affliction grieve.
By Jove the stranger and the poor are sent;
And what to those we give to Jove is lent.
[tr. Pope (1725)]

This man, a miserable wand’rer comes,
Whom we are bound to cherish, for the poor
And stranger are from Jove, and trivial gifts
To such are welcome.
[tr. Cowper (1792)]

Now comes this wanderer -- let us treat him well;
All strangers and all poor by Zeus are sent,
And love can make a little gift excel.
[tr. Worsley (1861), st. 27]

But, he,
This wand'ring outcast, is before us come
For whom it well beseems us to take thought;
For not without the warrant of great Jove
Appeal the strangers and the abject poor.
However small the boon, 'tis dearly priz'd!
[tr. Musgrave (1869), l. 315ff]

But this -- some hapless wanderer -- hither comes:
Him it behoves us care for: since from Zeus
Come strangers all, and poor men: and a gift
Small to the giver -- blesses him that takes it.
[tr. Bigge-Wither (1869)]

Nay, but this man is some helpless one come hither in his wanderings, whom now we must kindly entreat, for all strangers and beggars are from Zeus, and a little gift is dear.
[tr. Butcher/Lang (1879)]

But this man, a hapless wanderer, to usward now is sent,
And him is it meet to cherish; since from Zeus come guestfolk all
And suppliants; and full welcome is the gift, albeit but small.
[tr. Morris (1887)]

But this poor man has come here having lost his way, and we should give him aid; for in the charge of Zeus all strangers and beggars stand, and a small gift is welcome.
[tr. Palmer (1891)]

This is only some poor man who has lost his way, and we must be kind to him, for strangers and foreigners in distress are under Jove's protection, and will take what they can get and be thankful.
[tr. Butler (1898)]

This is some hapless wanderer that has come hither. Him must we now tend; for from Zeus are all strangers and beggars, and a gift, though small, is welcome.
[tr. Murray (1919)]

This man appeals as a luckless wanderer whom we must now kindly entertain. Homeless and broken men are all of them in the sight of Zeus, and it is a good deed to make them some small alms.
[tr. Lawrence (1932)]

The man you see is an unfortunate wanderer who has strayed here, and now commands our care, since all strangers and beggars come under the protection of Zeus, and the charity that is a trifle to us can be precious to others.
[tr. Rieu (1946)]

This man is a castaway, poor fellow; we must take care of him. Strangers and beggars come from Zeus: a small gift, then, is friendly.
[tr. Fitzgerald (1961)]

But, since this is some poor wanderer who has come to us,
we must now take care of him, since all strangers and wanderers
are sacred in the sight of Zeus, and the gift is a light and a dear one.
[tr. Lattimore (1965)]

But this man is a luckless fellow, one
who wandered here, and he deserves our care;
the stranger and the beggar -- both are sent
by Zeus, and even small gifts win their thanks.
[tr. Mandelbaum (1990)]

But here's an unlucky wanderer strayed our way
and we must tend him well. Every stranger and beggar
comes from Zeus, and whatever scrap we give him
he'll be glad to get.
[tr. Fagles (1996)]

This poor man comes here as a wanderer,
And we must take care of him now. All strangers,
All beggars, are under the protection of Zeus,
And even small gifts are welcome.
[tr. Lombardo (2000)]

No, this man is a luckless wanderer who has arrived here; we must now give him succor, for every stranger and beggar has the protection of Zeus, and a gift though little is welcome.
[tr. Merrill (2002)]

This man is an unfortunate wanderer who has strayed here, and we must look after him, since all strangers and beggars come under the protection of Zeus, and to such people a small gift can mean much.
[tr. DCH Rieu (2002)]

But this man is lost, poor thing. We must look after him. All foreigners and beggars come from Zeus, and any act of kindness is a blessing.
[tr. Wilson (2017)]

No, this is some ill-starred drifter who's ended up here, and we must now take of, since from Zeus are all strangers and beggars: any gift, though small, is welcome.
[tr. Green (2018)]

So this man
is some poor wanderer who’s just come here.
We must look after him, for every stranger,
every beggar, comes from Zeus, and any gift,
even something small, is to be cherished.
[tr. Johnston (2019), l. 264]

But this man who has wandered here, who is so ill-starred,
It is right to care for him now. For all are from Zeus,
The strangers and the beggars, and our gift is small but dear to them.
[tr. @sentantiq (2020)]

When someone accused him of having given a subscription to a dishonest man -- for the story is also told in this form -- "It was not the man," said he, "that I assisted, but humanity."
[tr. Hicks (1925), sec. 21]

When someone blamed him for giving membership to a base man, he said, “I didn’t give it to a man, but to humanity.”
[tr. @sentantiq (2016)]

To someone who faulted him for having made a loan to a dishonest man -- for the story is also told in this way -- he said, "It was not the man that I assisted, but mankind."
[tr. Mensch (2018)]

On one occasion he was blamed for giving alms to a worthless man, and he replied, “I did not pity the man, but his condition.”
[tr. Yonge (1853)]

Being once reproached for giving alms to a bad man, he rejoined, "It was the man and not his character that I pitied."
[tr. Hicks (1925), sec. 17]

After he was reproached for giving money to a wretched man, he said, “It wasn’t the character, but the man I pitied.”
[tr. @sentantiq [2016)]

Once, he was reproached because he gave charity to a lowly person, so he said, "I gave charity to a man, not a way of life."
[Source, sec. 17]

Guest! If one much worse
Arriv’d here than thyself, it were a curse
To my poor means, to let a stranger taste
Contempt for fit food. Poor men, and unplac’d
In free seats of their own, are all from Jove
Commended to our entertaining love.
But poor is th’ entertainment I can give,
Yet free and loving.
[tr. Chapman (1616)]

Stranger, then said Eumæus, it was never
My custom any stranger to neglect;
The poor and stranger are in God’s hand ever.
Few are my gifts, and but of small effect.
[tr. Hobbes (1675)]

It never was our guise
To slight the poor, or aught humane despise:
For Jove unfold our hospitable door,
'Tis Jove that sends the stranger and the poor.
[tr. Pope (1725)]

My guest! I should offend, treating with scorn
The stranger, though a poorer should arrive
Than ev’n thyself; for all the poor that are,
And all the strangers are the care of Jove.
Little, and with good will, is all that lies
Within my scope.
[tr. Cowper (1792), l. 68ff]

O friend, I dare not, though a worse man sought
These doors, a stranger use discourteously.
All strangers and all poor by Zeus are brought;
Sweet is our gift, yet small.
[tr. Worsley (1862), st. 7]

O stranger! 'Twere a wrongful act of mine,
Ev'n should a wretch more hapless than thyself
Before me come, on such a stranger's claim
To cast contempt: for ev'ry one Unknown
And ev'ry Mendicant from Jove Himself
His claim prefers. But, small, indeed, though kind
Are our donations all.
[tr. Musgrave (1869), l. 90ff]

Sir guest, 'tis not my wont, not e'en should come
A worser man than thou, to slight a guest.
From Zeus are strangers all, and begger-men:
My gift is small, tho' proof of kindliness.
[tr. Bigge-Wither (1869)]

Guest of mine, it were an impious thing for me to slight a stranger, even if there came a meaner man than thou; for from Zeus are all strangers and beggars; and a little gift from such as we, is dear.
[tr. Butcher/Lang (1879)]

O guest, it were not rightful, though e'en worser than thou he were sped,
To put shame upon a stranger; since guest and bedesman all,
From Zeus they are; and our giving, although it be but small,
Is dear.
[tr. Morris (1887)]

Stranger, it is not right for me to slight a stranger, not even one in poorer plight than you; for in the charge of Zeus all strangers and beggars stand, and our small gift is welcome.
[tr. Palmer (1891)]

Stranger, though a still poorer man should come here, it would not be right for me to insult him, for all strangers and beggars are from Jove. You must take what you can get and be thankful.
[tr. Butler (1898)]

Nay, stranger, it were not right for me, even though one meaner than thou were to come, to slight a stranger: for from Zeus are all strangers and beggars, and a gift, though small, is welcome from such as we.
[tr. Murray (1919)]

My guest, I should sin if I failed in attention to any stranger, even one poorer than yourself. The needy and the strangers are all from Zeus; and with the likes of us a quite slender gift can convey goodwill.
[tr. Lawrence (1932)]

"Sir," said the swineherd Eumaeus, "my conscience would not let me turn away a stranger in a worse state even than yourself, for strangers and beggars all come in Zeus’ name, and a gift from folk like us is none the less welcome for being small."
[tr. Rieu (1946)]

Tush, friend,
rudeness to a stranger is not decency,
poor though he may be, poorer than you.
All wanderers
and beggars come from Zeus. What we can give
is slight but well-meant.
[tr. Fitzgerald (1961)]

Stranger, I have no right to deny the stranger, not
even if one came to me who was meaner than you. All vagabonds
and strangers are under Zeus, and the gift is a light and a dear one
that comes from us.
[tr. Lattimore (1965)]

Dear guest. I'd never slight the least of strangers. Not even one more wretched than you are; for it is Zeus who sends to us all beggars and strangers; and a gift, however small, means much when given by a man like me.
[tr. Mandelbaum (1990)]

Stranger, for me it would not be right to dishonor a stranger, though one baser than you came, for every stranger and beggar has the protection of Zeus; and a gift, though little, but welcome, lies in our power to give.
[tr. Merrill (2002)]

Stranger, it is not right for me to turn away any stranger, even one in a worse state than you are, for strangers and beggars all come in Zeus' name, and a gift from folk like us is none the less welcome for being small.
[tr. DCH Rieu (2002)]

Stranger, it is not right for me to treat a guest dishonorably, not even one in a worse state than you; all strangers and beggars are under the protection of Zeus. What I can offer is small, but you are welcome to it.
[tr. Verity (2016)]

One must honor guests and foreigners and strangers, even those much poorer than oneself. Zeus watches over beggars and guests and strangers. What I have to give is small, but I will give it gladly.
[tr. Wilson (2017)]

Stranger, were one even meaner than you than you to come here, I'd still have no right to reject him, for all strangers and beggars are from Zeus, and a gift, however small, is friendly from folk such as us.
[tr. Green (2018)]

It would be wrong,
stranger, for me to disrespect a guest,
even if one worse off than you arrived,
for every guest and beggar comes from Zeus,
and any gift from people like ourselves,
though small, is welcome.
[tr. Johnston (2019)]

But whoso hath this world's good, and seeth his brother have need, and shutteth up his bowels of compassion from him, how dwelleth the love of God in him?
My little children, let us not love in word, neither in tongue; but in deed and in truth.
[KJV (1611)]

If we are rich and see others in need, yet close our hearts against them, how can we claim that we love God? My children, our love should not be just words and talk; it must be true love, which shows itself in action.
[GNT (1976)]

If anyone is well-off in worldly possessions and sees his brother in need but closes his heart to him, how can the love of God be remaining in him? Children, our love must be not just words or mere talk, but something active and genuine.
[NJB (1985)]

But if someone has material possessions and sees a brother or sister in need but refuses to help—how can the love of God dwell in a person like that?
Little children, let’s not love with words or speech but with action and truth.
[CEB (2011)]

If anyone has material possessions and sees a brother or sister in need but has no pity on them, how can the love of God be in that person? Dear children, let us not love with words or speech but with actions and in truth.
[NIV (2011)]

How does God’s love abide in anyone who has the world’s goods and sees a brother or sister in need and yet refuses help?
Little children, let us love, not in word or speech, but in truth and action.
[NRSV (2021 ed.)]

He that directs the wandering traveller,
Doth, as it were, light another's torch by his own;
Which gives him ne'er the less of light, for that
It gave another.
[tr. Cockman (1699)]

The man who kindly points out the way to the wandering traveller, gives light to the lamp of another, without diminishing by the communication the light of his own.
[tr. McCartney (1798)]

He who kindly shows the bewildered traveller the right road, does as it were light his lamp by his own; which affords none the less light to himself after it has lighted the other.
[tr. Edmonds (1865)]

Who kindly shows a wanderer his way,
Lights, as it were, a torch from his own torch, --
In kindling others' light, no less he shines.
[tr. Peabody (1883)]

The man who kindly points the way top a wanderer, does as though he kindles a light from the light that is his; it shines none the less for himself when he has kindled it for his fellow.
["trib Teleph. R suae lumine accendit facis Hartman, Mnemoe., XXI, 382 fortass recte"]

For the Lord your God is God of gods, and Lord of lords, a great God, a mighty, and a terrible, which regardeth not persons, nor taketh reward: He doth execute the judgment of the fatherless and widow, and loveth the stranger, in giving him food and raiment. Love ye therefore the stranger: for ye were strangers in the land of Egypt.
[KJV (1611)]

The Lord your God is supreme over all gods and over all powers. He is great and mighty, and he is to be obeyed. He does not show partiality, and he does not accept bribes. He makes sure that orphans and widows are treated fairly; he loves the foreigners who live with our people, and gives them food and clothes. So then, show love for those foreigners, because you were once foreigners in Egypt.
[GNT (1976)]

For the Lord your God is God of gods and Lord of lords, the great God, mighty and awesome, who is not partial and takes no bribe, who executes justice for the orphan and the widow, and who loves the strangers, providing them food and clothing. You shall also love the stranger, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt.
[NRSV (1989 ed.)]

For your God יהוה is God supreme and Lord supreme, the great, the mighty, and the awesome God, who shows no favor and takes no bribe, but upholds the cause of the fatherless and the widow, and befriends the stranger, providing food and clothing. -- You too must befriend the stranger, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt.
[RJPS (2006)]

For the Lord your God is God of gods and Lord of lords, the great God, mighty and awesome, who shows no partiality and accepts no bribes. He defends the cause of the fatherless and the widow, and loves the foreigner residing among you, giving them food and clothing. And you are to love those who are foreigners, for you yourselves were foreigners in Egypt.
[NIV (2011 ed.)]

• "It is of no use to boost a man up a ladder unless he is willing to climb himself." -- In Cyrus Holdridge, "A Millionaire and His Hobby," Our Day (Jan 1900).
• "You cannot push anyone up a ladder unless he is willing to climb a little himself." -- Elbert Hubbard, Little Journeys to the Homes of Great Business Men, Vol. 25 (1909).

We are called to play the good Samaritan on life's roadside; but that will be only an initial act. One day the whole Jericho road must be transformed so that men and women will not be beaten and robbed as they make their journey through life. True compassion is more than flinging a coin to a beggar; it understands that an edifice which produces beggars needs restructuring.

You can easily judge the character of others by how they treat those who can do nothing for them or to them.

Further, all men are to be loved equally. But since you cannot do good to all, you are to pay special regard to those who, by the accidents of time, or place, or circumstance, are brought into closer connection with you.
[tr. Shaw (1858)]

All other men are to be loved equally; but since you cannot be of assistance to everyone, those especially are to be cared for who are most closely bound to you by place, time, or opportunity, as if by chance.
[tr. Robertson (1958)]

One may also observe in a great many people, that they take a sort of pride in being counted magnificent, and give very plentifully, not from any generous principle in their natures, but only to appear great in the eye of the world; so that all their bounty is resolved into nothing but mere outside and pretense, and is nearer of kin to vanity and folly, than it is to either liberality or honesty.
[tr. Cockman (1699)]

Besides we may observe, that most men, not so much from a liberal disposition, as led by some show of apparent beneficence, do acts of kindness, which seem to flow more from ostentation than from the heart. This conduct is more allied to vanity than to liberality or honour.
[tr. McCartney (1798)]

For it is easy to observe, that most of them are not so much by nature generous, as they are misled by a kind of pride to do a great many things in order that they may seem to be generous; which things seem to spring not so much from good will as from ostentation. Now such a simulation is more nearly allied to duplicity than to generosity or virtue.
[tr. Edmonds (1865)]

We can see, also, that a large number of persons, less from a liberal nature than for the reputation of generosity, do many things that evidently proceed from ostentation rather than from good will.
[tr. Peabody (1883)]

It is also manifest that the conduct of men who are not really generous but only ambitious of the name often springs from vainglory rather than from a pure motive. Such hypocrisy, I hold, savours more of deceit than of liberality or honour.
[tr. Gardiner (1899)]

It is quite clear that many individuals who are not so much innately generous as they are swayed by the vain desire to seem generous, often indulge in gestures that apparently originate in ostentation rather than in genuine open-handedness. This kind of pretense is closer to vanity than to generosity or uprightness.
[tr. Edinger (1974)]

This brother, of whom hardly a memory is left, was a quiet miser, who, being a priest, felt obliged to give alms to the poor whom he met, but never gave them anything more than coppers or worn-out sous, finding thus the means of going to Hell by the road to Paradise.
[tr. Wilbour (1862); tr. Wilbour / Fahnestock / MacAfee (1987)]

This brother, who is not much remembered, was a great miser, who, as he was a priest, thought himself bound to give alms to the poor he met, but he never gave them aught but bad or called-in money, thus finding means of going to Hades by the road to Paradise.
[tr. Wraxall (1862)]

This brother, of whom but little memory remains, was a peaceable miser, who, being a priest, thought himself bound to bestow alms on the poor whom he met, but he never gave them anything except bad or demonetized sous, thereby discovering a means of going to hell by way of paradise.
[tr. Hapgood (1887)]

The brother, whom he scarcely remembered, had been a peaceable skinflint who, being a priest, felt it his duty to give alms to such of the poor as he encountered; but the coins he gave them were always obsolete currency, and thus he found means of going to Hell by way of Paradise.
[tr. Denny (1976)]

You can't be of help to everybody! say the narrow-minded, and help nobody.
[tr. Scrase/Mieder (1994)]

Pure religion and undefiled before God and the Father is this, To visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction, and to keep himself unspotted from the world.
[KJV (1611)]

Pure, unspoilt religion, in the eyes of God our Father is this: coming to the help of orphans and widows when they need it, and keeping oneself uncontaminated by the world.
[JB (1966)]

What God the Father considers to be pure and genuine religion is this: to take care of orphans and widows in their suffering and to keep oneself from being corrupted by the world.
[GNT (1976)]

Pure, unspoilt religion, in the eyes of God our Father, is this: coming to the help of orphans and widows in their hardships, and keeping oneself uncontaminated by the world.
[NJB (1985)]

True devotion, the kind that is pure and faultless before God the Father, is this: to care for orphans and widows in their difficulties and to keep the world from contaminating us.
[CEB (2011)]

Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world.
[NIV (2011 ed.)]

Religion -- easily -- has the Greatest Bullshit Story Ever Told! Think about it: religion has actually convinced people -- many of them adults -- that there's an invisible man who lives in the sky and watches everything you do, every minute of every day. And who has a special list of ten things he does not want you to do. And if you do any of these ten things, he has a special place, full of fire and smoke and burning and torture and anguish, where he will send you to remain and suffer and burn and choke and scream and cry, forever and ever, till the end of time! But he loves you. He loves you and he needs money! He always needs money. He's all-powerful, all-perfect, all-knowing, and all-wise, but somehow ... he just can't handle money! Religion takes in billions of dollars, pays no taxes, and somehow always need a little more. Now, you talk about a good bullshit story. Holy shit!

Verbo dicam: Si nos servaremus IN necesariis Unitatem, IN non-necessariis Libertatem, IN UTRISQUE Charitatem, optimo certe loco essent res nostrae.

[In a word, were we to observe unity in essentials, liberty in incidentals, and in all things charity, our affairs would be certainly in a most happy situation.]

Chi Lu asked about serving the spirits of the dead. The Master said, "While you are not able to serve men, how can you serve their spirits?"
[tr. Legge (1861), 11.11]

Tszlu propounded a question about ministering to the spirits ((of the departed). The Master replied, "Where there is scarcely the ability to minister to living men, how shall there be ability to minister to the spirits?"
[tr. Jennings (1895), 11.11]

A disciple (the intrepid Chung Yu) enquired how one should behave towards the spirits of dead men. Confucius answered, "We cannot as yet do our duties to living men; why should we enquire about our duties to dead men?"
[tr. Ku Hung-Ming (1898), 11.11]

When Chi Lu asked about his duty to the spirits the Master replied: "While still unable to do your duty to the living, how can you do your duty to the dead?"
[tr. Soothill (1910), 11.11]

Chi Lu asked about the service for ghosts and spirits. Confucius said, You cannot be useful to the living, how can you be useful to (serve) ghosts?
[tr. Pound (1933), 11.11]

Tsu-lu asked how one should serve ghosts and spirits. The master said, Till you have learnt to serve men, how can you serve ghosts?
[tr. Waley (1938), 11.11]

You can’t treat spirits and divinities properly before you are able to treat your fellow men properly.
[tr. Ware (1950)]

Zilu asked about serving ghosts and spirits. The Master said: "If one is not yet capable of serving men, how can one serve ghosts?"
[tr. Dawson (1993)]

Zilu asked how to serve the spirits and gods. The Master said: "You are not yet able to serve men, how could you serve the spirits?"
[tr. Leys (1997)]

When Ji-lu asked how to serve the spirits and gods, the Master said, "You cannot serve men yet; how can you serve the spirits?"
[tr. Huang (1997)]

Jilu asked how to service the gods, Confucius said: "One could not service the human beings yet, how could one service the gods?"
[tr. Cai/Yu (1998), #272]

Zilu asked how to serve the spirits and the gods. The master replied, "Not yet being able to serve other people, how would you be able to serve the spirits?"
[tr. Ames/Rosemont (1998)]

Jì-Lì asked about serving ghosts and spirits. The Master said, You cannot yet serve men, how could you serve ghosts?
[tr. Brooks/Brooks (1998)]

When Adept Lu asked about serving ghosts and spirits, the Master said, "You haven't learned to serve the living, so how could you serve ghosts?"
[tr. Hinton (1998)]

Zilu asked about serving ghosts and spirits. The Master said, “You are not yet able to serve people -- how could you be able to serve ghosts and spirits?”
[tr. Slingerland (2003)]

Jilu asked how one should serve the gods and spirits. The Master said, "When you don't yet know how to serve human beings, how can you serve the spirits?"
[tr. Watson (2007)]

Jilu [Zilu] asked about how to serve the spirits of the dead and the gods. The Master said, "You can't even serve men properly, how can you serve the spirits?"
[tr. Annping Chin (2014)]

Ji Lu asked about how to serve and worship gods and spirits. Confucius said, "You still have not served men well. Why do you bother serving gods and spirits?"
[tr. Li (2020)]

If you don't know how to serve men, why worry about serving the gods?
[Common translation]

Just so to be angry, to give money, and be expensive, is what any man can do, and easy: but to do these to the right person, in due proportion, at the right time, with a right object, and in the right manner, this is not as before what any man can do, nor is it easy; and for this cause goodness is rare, and praiseworthy, and noble.
[tr. Chase (1847)]

And so, too, to get angry is an easy matter, and in any man's power; or to give away money or to spend it: but to decide to whom to give it, and how large a sum, and when, and for what purpose, and how, is neither in every many's power, nor an easy matter. And hence it is that excellence herein is rare and praiseworthy and noble.
[tr. Williams (1869), sec. 37]

So too anybody can get angry -- that is an easy matter -- and anybody can give or spend money, but to give it to the right persons, to give the right amount of it and to give it at the right time and for the right cause and in the right way, this is not what anybody can do, nor is it easy. That is the reason why it is rare and laudable and noble to do well.
[tr. Welldon (1892)]

Thus anyone can be angry -- that is quite easy; anyone can give money away or spend it: but to do these things to the right person, to the right extent, at the right time, with the right object, and in the right manner, is not what everybody can do, and is by no means easy; and that is the reason why right doing is rare and praiseworthy and noble.
[tr. Peters (1893)]

So, too, anyone can get angry -- that is easy -- or give or spend money; but to do this to the right person, to the right extent, at the right time, with the right motive, and in the right way, that is not for everyone, nor is it easy; wherefore goodness is both rare and laudable and noble.
[tr. Ross (1908)]

In the same way, getting angry is also something everyone can do and something easy, as is giving or spending money. Determining whom to give it to, though, and how much, when, for the sake of what, and in what way -- that is no longer something everyone can do or something easy. That is why doing it well is a rare thing and a praiseworthy and noble one.
[tr. Reeve (1948)]

So, too, anyone can get angry or give money or spend it, and it is easy. But to give to the right person, the right amount, at the right time, for the right purpose, and in the right manner, this is not something anyone can do nor is it easy to do; and it is in view of this that excellence is rare and praiseworthy and noble.
[tr. Apostle (1975)]

So too it is easy to get angry -- anyone can do that -- or to give and spend money; but to feel or act towards the right person to the right extent at the right time for the right reason in the right way -- that is not easy, and it is not everyone that can do it. Hence to do these things well is a rare, laudable, and fine achievement.
[tr. Thomson/Tredennick (1976)]

So too anyone can get angry, or give and spend money -- these are easy, but doing them in relation to the right person, in the right amount, at the right time, with the right aim in view, and in the right way -- that is not something anyone can do, nor is it easy. This is why excellence in these things is rare, praiseworthy, and noble.
[tr. Crisp (2000)]

And so too, to become angry belongs to everyone and is an easy thing, as is also giving and spending money; but to whom [one ought to do so], how much, when for the sake fo what, and how -- these no longer belong to everyone nor are easy. Thus in fact acting well is rare, praiseworthy, and noble.
[tr. Bartlett/Collins (2011)]

Anybody can become angry, that is easy; but to be angry with the right person, and to the right degree, and at the right time, for the right purpose, and in the right way, that is not within everybody's power and is not easy.

When on these matters I reflect, I mark
How great the power of riches, to bestow
Upon the needy stranger, or expend them
To heal our bodies wasting with disease.
But for the diet of one day, is wealth
Of small importance : for the appetites
Of all men, whether rich or poor, demand
An equal share of necessary food.
[tr. Wodhull (1809)]

It is in such cases, whenever I fail in my intentions, that I see how wealth has great power, to give to strangers, and to expend in curing the body when it falls sick; but money for our daily food comes to little; for every man when full, rich or poor, gets an equal amount.
[tr. Coleridge (1891)]

But when my mind falls upon this subject, I consider how great a power wealth has, botht o bestow on strangers, and by expense to preserve one's body when fallen into sickness; but for one's daily food it comes to little. For every man once filled, rich or poor, bears an equality.
[tr. Buckley (1892)]

In such things, when my thoughts turn thitherward,
I mark what mighty vantage substance hath,
To give to guests, to medicine the body
In sickness: but for needs of daily food
Not far it reacheth. Each man, rich and poor,
Can be but filled, when hunger is appeased.
[tr. Way (1896)]

When I think of such things then I see what mighty power money has! Not only you help your friends with the stuff but you can also heal yourself from any illness when you have the money to pay. The cost of a normal everyday meal is cheap, because everyone, rich and poor, once he had enough he feels the same joy.
[tr. Theodoridis (2006)]

It’s at times like this,
when I have no idea how to manage,
I think of the great power money has
for giving things to strangers and paying
to save someone whenever he falls sick.
The meals we need each day don’t come to much,
for all men, once they have eaten their fill,
feel much the same, whether rich or poor.
[tr. Johnston (2009), l. 515ff]

[...] whether rich or poor
Everyone is equal when their belly is full.
[tr. @sentantiq (2020)]