One of the Little Foxes! Kill Him?!
He is not a wild beast, living in dark, gloomy forests. No. He is becoming domesticated. He rears his brood in the parlor and sitting room; he thrives near the easy chair, is a guest at the social meal. Many think the house gloomy without him. Some think a visit from a friend or neighbor unbearable without this little fox is there to enliven, with his gambols, the visit. He is held in great esteem by many. They will neglect their work, business, children, their very souls, to run errands at his bidding. Few reckon him an evil beast—many think him as pretty as a lamb or kitten, more faithful than a watch-dog; they will watch for his coming more eagerly than for the postman; and like Æsop's fabled fox with a bone in his throat desiring the long-necked goose to pull it out, and then biting her head off, so this little fox is most ready to destroy those that pet him most. His name is—Social Small Talk! Some think he has religion, and will take him to church and pet him till preaching begins. The foxes of Palestine often burrowed among the thick roots of the vine; so with this one, he has no desire to kill our vine—that would raise a hunt that would exterminate his species! He bites off the feeder roots, nips off the fruit buds, and makes the vine so puny and its fruit so insipid that men turn away disgusted. In a word, this social small talk robs the professor of religion of peace, shuts off the streams of power from the soul, disgusts the sinner with our insipid conversation, offends Jesus, and delights the devil. Too often professors of holiness find in visiting others that, almost before they are aware of it, small talk has shorn them, and they are too weak to pray or talk about Jesus before they leave, the very object they had in view is thwarted, and they return feeling that they have done more to advertise the devil's wares than to please Jesus. Kill this social small talk, and let your conversation be in Heaven.