Geniality

Review and Herald Publishing Association · Tacoma Park Station, Washington, D.C. · Nov 2, 1911

THE preacher said there is no place in heaven for sour people; nor is there really any place on earth, but there are some people who too often insist upon occupying such a place. They would not, if they knew how little they were liked. A person may show sorrow, and feel the pressure of a gloom upon his heart; but to be sour, crabbed, ill-natured, is to express a phase of disposition that is extremely disagreeable, if not disgusting.

To be sour is to find fault with everybody except one’s self. It is the worst side of egoism. It is being mad at the world. Nobody enjoys being that way. It is punishing one’s self in order to evoke sympathy, but it never works. Nobody cares for a sour person. One feels more like punishing him, if it were lawful to do so.

The opposite of this spleenful condition of soul is sweetness of disposition—a kindly temper turned toward the world. Such a disposition is worth a ton of gold. A man can do more business with it, make more friends, create more happiness, and insure happier homes than he can with almost any other grace. The genial man is always welcome. He is like a flower, a streak of sunshine, the song of a bird—he is in harmony with the beauty and joy of all things.

There was one time a sour man who resolved not to be sour that day. In everything he was agreeable and cheery. It was then he discovered a new world, a world that he never knew existed, where everybody was good and kind; where he met a smile, wherever he turned, and heard music in the voices of all about him. Surely the preacher was right—there are no sour people in heaven; nor on earth if heaven is there.

— Ohio State Journal.