There is nothing "blue"
about that. And it is what the Book bids you tell the people. The
people want it, too, and need it--they _need_ "beauty for ashes, the
oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of
heaviness."

Ah! yes, indeed, that is worth while. Your pews will never be empty if
such be the fruit of your lips and the ripeness of your spirit. The
people want to hear about something better than they know or have
known.

"How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of him that bringeth
good tidings."

Nobody likes a scold. Of course, when it is necessary to scold, go
ahead and scold. But don't make scolding a practise. Your congregation
will not stand being abused; they will not stand it unless they
actually need it, and then they will stand it. Unconsciously they will
know that the stripes you lay upon them are medicine after all, and
for their healing.

But ordinarily everybody has such a hard time that they would like to
hear about "a good time coming." Ordinarily everybody is so tired that
they would like to hear something like this: "Come unto me all ye that
labor and are heavy laden and I will give you rest."

The religion which you preach owes its vitality to the glorious
hopefulness of it. The people want to know that if they do well here
joy awaits them hereafter, and here, too, if possible. They want to
hear about the "Father's house" that has "many mansions," and about
Him who has "gone to prepare a place" for them.

They demand happiness in some form, if only in talk. If they do not
get it in the assurances of religion, who can blame them if they say:
"Let us eat, drink, and be merry, for to-morrow we die." For sure
enough they _do_ die to-morrow, so far as their world goes.

If you do not believe that religion means happiness, quit the pulpit
and raise potatoes. Potatoes feed the body at least. But unfaithful
words or speech of needless despair feed nothing at all. It is "east
wind." Put beauty, hope, joy, into your preaching, therefore. Make
your listeners thrill with gladness that they are Christians. Even the
men of the world have wisdom enough to make things profane as
attractive as possible.

Note, for example, that most successful books are hopeful books that
tell of the beautiful things of human life and character. Especially
is this true of novels, the most widely read of all books of transient
modern literature. The hero always wins--virtue always triumphs. The