The Central Presbyterian

For the Central Presbyterian.
Thoughtless Criticisms.

A short time ago the Methodists of our village had a protracted meeting in their church. The Presbyterian preacher was invited to preach on Sunday night—his own congregation meeting in worship with the Methodists. He gladly availed himself of the opportunity to show his interest in the work, and preached the best sermon he had—a sermon that was the offspring of mental anguish and much prayer. In the congregation were two young men, characterized by many admirable traits, but irreligious. Their mother is a member of the Presbyterian church, and professes to be painfully anxious about the conversion of her boys. It is known that the preacher had those two young men in his mind and on his heart, and the character of his sermon was thought to be peculiarly suited to meet the demands of their case. The first expression of opinion that he heard from the mother was, "What was the matter with our preacher last night. He preached the meanest sermon I ever heard. He holloed mighty loud, and I believe it was to conceal his want of ideas." When this severe censure was repeated to the preacher by a sympathizing friend, it was not altogether mortified vanity that made his heart ache. No doubt this was an element of pain, but equally painful was the sense of helplessness and despair. What prospect of reaching the hearts of children when their own parents laugh at your most earnest and prayerful efforts? However feeble, or even misdirected the preacher's effort, it seems to me that a grateful appreciation of his design ought to suppress harsh criticism. When he stands as an accredited ambassador of God and handles the solemn themes of "sin, of righteousness, and of judgment to come," striving with prayerful earnestness to carry conviction to the heart of a child, if the parent is certain that the preacher's effort was a failure, instead of censure or ridicule, he should grieve in silence, and at least respect the benevolent motive that prompted the effort. Thoughtlessness is usually the excuse for harsh criticisms. "The critic meant no harm." But what shall we think of the thoughtlessness of a mother or father when the matter in hand is the rescue of their own offspring from eternal perdition? Why should the preacher pour out his soul in an agony of intercession at the throne of grace, and then put forth all the resources of mind and body to accomplish the rescue, while the parents are so little concerned as to make thoughtless comments? Suppose God stands aloof and looks on with equal indifference, and makes thoughtless criticisms, what probability that the child will be saved? Is it expected that God and the preacher will manifest profound concern and possibly save the child while the parents amuse themselves and the bystanders by light, fippant pleasantries at the preacher's expense? Preachers are said to be too sensitive. Perhaps so, but this is hardly as bad as for parents to be too thoughtless.

C.