CHEERFULNESS AN ELEMENT OF SUCCESS IN DOING GOOD.
Some Christians consciously wear a gloomy look whenever they attempt to speak on religion to a gay or worldly person. It arises sometimes from a natural characteristic, but more generally from the conviction of the perils to which the thoughtless are constantly exposed. As Dr. Watts has it, “On slippery rocks they see them stand.” But it is well to inquire how much good is achieved where the approach is with such outward solemnity. We should take into consideration the mental state and every-day habits of the careless and impenitent. Their whole thoughts run in a different channel from ours. They regard everything from a temporal standpoint, and aim to extract from their daily life as much sunshine as is possible, never dreaming that there is a higher, purer radiance which might inspire the heart and light up their path. They have an indefinite idea that there is happiness in worldly pursuits and pleasures, even if they have not yet found it. We tell them that religion makes them happy, and that nothing else is so potent in that direction. “Religion! Why, I can’t believe that is a source of joy. It may give safety; but how can it confer happiness? Look at Mr. A. He wears a gloomy look, especially when he talks on religion; and, naturally, one would think, if talking on it makes him so melancholy, religion itself can’t be to him a source of much joy.” Without entering into explanation in regard to the erroneous impression made on the mind of the objector, we are principally concerned with the fact that little good is ordinarily achieved by a gloomy look, or a drawling, sanctimonious tone. Direct religious influence from one mind upon another is a matter as delicate as it is important. A careless and impatient person and a Christian cannot be together an hour before contrarieties will appear. They strike a different key-note. The one, fearing religious influence, is on his guard. He talks of the world, of pleasure, of literature—of anything but religion. The other watches his opportunity to get in a word for Christ and for the soul. Suppose the latter, assuming a very grave look, should break in upon his gay friend, and say, “Now stop. You have talked on worldly vanities long enough. Let me have a word to say on the most important of all subjects.” Would such a course be wise? But suppose, humoring the current of talk, he should adroitly turn into a serious channel; or, while his friend should be congratulating himself on some lucky adventure, he should put in, and say, “I am glad of it; but, is lucky the best word? You believe in Providence, I presume.” “Oh, certainly; but you don’t think Providence concerns itself with such small affairs.” Now the subject is open—the way is clear for the statement of principles. To force religious conversation is not the best way, but rather in a cheerful, good-natured manner, to watch for opportunities where it may naturally come in. A real Christian does not hesitate, the moment the way is open, to put in a word for Christ. There should be nothing lugubrious in tone or manner, but a cheerful, sympathetic way of putting the thing, so that it may not seem to be lugged in. A Christian who lives near to God, whose soul is imbued with the spirit of his religion, cannot be otherwise than cheerful. How often are we exhorted “to rejoice in the Lord,” “to rejoice always,” to abound in religious joy. Were we thus buoyant and lively, with a joy inspired from Heaven, we should find easy access to the unconverted, and have no difficulty in convincing them that “their rock was not as ours,” and while their laughter was that of fools—dying out as “the cracking of thorns under a pot”—ours was a sacred hilarity—the beginning of a joy that would never end.—Chr. at Work.