GLEAXiKGS IX BfeE dULTuRE. 



July 



way, while I think of it, did you ever consid- 

 er how very few there are in" tliis world who 

 would talk "lionestly and conscientiously on 

 this subject? Professing Cliristians will'talk, 

 for they do not feel asliamed to confess to in- 

 timate friends that they have been striving to 

 overcome temptation,' and for more purity 

 and holiness. But as a rule, those Avhb 

 have never made any profession of religion 

 are backward and averse, because sucli 

 a question as the one I have quoted above 

 strikes home Avith a sort of reproof in it at 

 once. AVhen some one says, " Are you will- 

 ing to be a Christian?'' and yon reply, hon- 

 estly, from the l)Ottom of your heart, ''Yes, 

 I am willing," then follows closely, "Why 

 are you not already a Christian V Now, 

 you must either answer this by excuses of 

 some sort, or else you must frankly admit 

 that you have not until this moment decided 

 to be a Christian. How many are there, do 

 you suppose, friends, who are willing to say 

 yes to the question I have propounded"? 

 There are a good many things to be consid- 

 ered in this matter. As I have reviewed 

 the question in the past week, it comes up 

 before me sometliing like tliis : If you throw 

 the emphasis on the lirst word, it directs to- 

 ward an examination of our own hearts in 

 regard to trutlif nlness — " are you indeed 

 willing, or do you simply think you are ? 

 Are you sure yon are willing to be a Chris- 

 tian ?'" I tell you, friends, it is well to be 

 sure in such a matter ; to count the cost, and 

 examine ourselves well. 



Let us put the emphasis on the second 

 word : "Are you willing to become a Chris- 

 tian ?" It is an easy matter to talk Chris- 

 tianity to other people, and recommend it to 

 them. It is an easy matter, also, to point 

 out to Christians what they ought not to do. 

 People weigh the acts of others, as to 

 whether they are Christianlike or unchris- 

 tianlike, and lay down rules of action for 

 others all about them ; but I tell you, it is a 

 harder matter to turn it all right around 

 pointedly toward yourself. We are all of 

 us quite willing other people shoidd be 

 Christianlike. Even the highwayman, when 

 he demands your money or yoiu- life, or 

 throws a train off the track that he may rob 

 the i)assengers, prefers to have the rest of 

 the world lead upright, honest lives, or else 

 there would not be anything worth stealing. 

 If all the world were robbers, there would 

 not be any thing to get by robbing. Now, 

 then, when all the world takes it into their 

 heads to become Christians themselves, or. 

 if you choose, when all the world are irilling 

 to set to Avork to mend their own lives, so 

 that they shall be in accordance with Chris- 

 tian principles, tlien we are making progress. 

 My friend, are you willing to become a 

 Christian ? 



Now let us try the next word : " Are you 

 willing to be a Christian ?"' Everybody as- 

 sents to the proposition, as I have told you 

 above, that Christianity is a good thing ; "but 

 when it runs against some pet sin of your 

 own, then conies the tug of war. You may 

 be intemperate in your habits ; perhaps you 

 drink moderately.'but know from the bot- 

 tom of your heart that, to be a Christian, 

 this sin must be given up. A friend once 



made the remark, that if he were to imder- 

 take to live a Christian life— tliat is, such a 

 life as he felt a Christian ought to live, he 

 would liave to give up taking his children 

 out to ride Sunday afternoons and evenings. 

 Although he could not feel tliere was any 

 tiling very wrong in the way Ihey took their 

 rides, yet he knew the example as a whole 

 was bad ; therefore, if he should become a 

 Christian he would be obliged to give it up ; 

 and to tell the truth, this, with several other 

 things, he was not yet " willing " to give up. 

 No one had told him he must stop his Sun- 

 day rides if he became a Christian, but he 

 had simply figured it cmt himself, and he 

 was not " willing." The path to eternal life 

 is indeed a straight and narrow one ; it cuts 

 terribly close, and it sometimes seems as if 

 it were merciless in cutting off things we 

 may lie wedded to. I can remember the 

 time when I began studying the matter of a 

 Christian life. I knew that where I was 

 then standing I could not be a (Christian. I 

 knew I should have to change yery much 

 in some respects. It seemed as if I "had got 

 to get over the fence into another life. I had. 

 looked over that fence a great many times ; 

 but there were things on the side where I 

 stood that I did n(Vt choose to give up. I 

 was afraid to cut loose from this world, and 

 get over into that straight and narrow path, 

 and stay there. I was not only afraid, but I 

 was unwilling. What a wonderful thing 

 that word '•willing" is! How I do love 

 cheerful, willing people— people who are 

 willing to do right ; who are willingto suffer 

 for Christ's sake ! I love people who are 

 willing to be honest. Did you ever think of 

 putting it that way ? How" often we see the 

 element of unwillingness in the world about 

 us. It exists in our own hearts, and there is 

 right where we ought to see it. But our 

 eyes are dimmed when we look that way. 

 Only a sliort time ago I was thinking how 

 quickly I could tell Avhether a willing spirit 

 resided in those Avliom I meet; especially 

 those who come to me and want something 

 to do. How I do love to see willing workers ! 

 It makes me happy to come across one who 

 is willing to be honest and conscientious. 



Howboautil'iil upon the mountaius are the feet of 

 him that briiig-eth good tidings, that publisheth 

 peace.— ISA. 53 : 7. 



This willingness to do right, it seems to 

 me, is one of the greatest elements of a 

 Christian character : its opposite, willfulness, 

 is also the greatest element in sinking souls 

 into the bottomless depths. A temptation 

 is presented to you. You know it ought to 

 be put away under foot, but the temptation 

 conies to you in glaiing colors— rainbow col- 

 ors, perhaps. Satan eau clotiie common ob- 

 jects in rainbow colors when he and all his 

 allies set about it, and he can hold out al- 

 lurements to swerve one from the path of 

 duty, which only those can understand who 

 have had a pitched battle witli him. Some 

 new and delicioiis intluence all at once per-' 

 vades your very being— something so strange 

 that you stop and stare at it ; and when the 

 voice of conscience again sounds in your ears 

 you answer back, " Why, there surely can be 

 no harm in stopping to take a look at this 

 funny phase." You stop and look aAvhile, 



