Are We Sincere? by Margaret E. Sangster

International Tract and Missionary Society · Oakland, California · Jun 10, 1886

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 12, No. 22.

Are We Sincere?

By Margaret E. Sangster

You and I, dear friend, say and think that we are sincere in wishing and praying for the conversion of our little ones. Nothing else is of so much importance in our eyes, nor do our desires for their earthly advancement compare with our intensity of longing that they may be the Lord's, in full, sweet, and entire surrender, while still the dew of their youth glistens tremblingly upon their brows.

Our children have heard us, now and then, profess this yearning, perhaps at family prayers, perhaps in our talk with Christian friends; yet, if we were asked, and our replies were given honestly, and without reserve, how few would dare to claim that the impression made upon our dear ones by our conduct is consistent with our words on the subject. To use a frequent phrase, do we not need to look more than we do to our walk and conversation?

For instance, do we manifest the same solicitude about Minnie's private Bible reading that we show with regard to her daily piano practice? Are we as particular in ascertaining whether Dick and Harry say their prayers every morning as to whether they have prepared their examples? The school report comes home at the close of the week, and we scrutinize it with anxious fidelity, deeply regretful if the "excellent" of the last account has declined to "fair," sorrowful exceedingly if "poor" or "unsatisfactory" be entered in the record against any study, or if the minimum instead of the maximum has been registered with regard to conduct or punctuality. Too tenderly loving to be indifferent to the character-building which is deciding the style of the future man or woman growing up in our sight, we deprecate any arrest in the school progress. Our congratulations stimulate, or our censures condemn, the child who has been diligent or the child who has been idle. We care more than a little about the matter, and our interest is so genuine and so hearty that it affects its subject.

Is it thus in our feeling with regard to the conversion of our children, and is it usual for us to show this interest in anything like so marked a degree? The mother whose solicitude for the spiritual welfare of her children manifests itself in look and tone, in prayer with them alone, in tender bed-time talks, in the constant tenor of the home life, cannot, in whatever else she may fail, but succeed in bringing them face to face with their duty. Her interest will kindle theirs. Almost insensibly they will be won to the Master.—Mrs. Margaret E. Sangster, in Congregationalist.