“‘Poor world,’ she cried, ’so deep accurst,
Thou runn’st from pole to pole
To seek a draught to slake thy thirst,—­
Go seek it in thy soul.’

* * * * *

Tears washed the trouble from her face! 
She changed into a child! 
’Mid weeds and wrecks she stood,—­a place
Of ruin,—­but she smiled!”

Much has the Church lost of that pristine and powerful joy.  The furnace of civilization has withered and hardened her.  She has become anxious and troubled about many things.  She has sought earthly honours, earthly powers.  Richer she is than ever before, and probably better organized, and perhaps more intelligent, more learned,—­but not more happy.  The one note that is most often missing in Christian life, in Christian service, is the note of spontaneous joy.

Christians are not as much calmer, steadier, stronger, and more cheerful than other people as they ought to be.  Some Christians are among the most depressing and worryful people in the world,—­the most difficult to live with.  And some, indeed, have adopted a theory of spiritual ethics which puts a special value upon unhappiness.  The dark, morbid spirit which mistrusts every joyful feeling, and depreciates every cheerful virtue, and looks askance upon every happy life as if there must be something wrong about it, is a departure from the beauty of Christ’s teaching to follow the dark-browed philosophy of the Orient.

The religion of Jesus tells us that cheerful piety is the best piety.  There is something finer than to do right against inclination; and that is to have an inclination to do right.  There is something nobler than reluctant obedience; and that is joyful obedience.  The rank of virtue is not measured by its disagreeableness, but by its sweetness to the heart that loves it.  The real test of character is joy.  For what you rejoice in, that you love.  And what you love, that you are like.

I confess frankly that I have no admiration for the phrase “disinterested benevolence,” to describe the main-spring of Christian morals.  I do not find it in the New Testament:  neither the words, nor the thing.  Interested benevolence is what I find there.  To do good to others is to make life interesting and find peace for our own souls.  To glorify God is to enjoy Him.  That was the spirit of the first Christians.  Was not St. Paul a happier man than Herod?  Did not St. Peter have more joy of his life than Nero?  It is said of the first disciples that they “did eat their meat with gladness and singleness of heart.”  Not till that pristine gladness of life returns will the Church regain her early charm for the souls of men.  Every great revival of Christian power—­like those which came in the times of St. Francis of Assisi and of John Wesley—­has been marked and heralded by a revival of Christian joy.

If we want the Church to be mighty in power to win men, to be a source of light in the darkness, a fountain of life in the wilderness, we must remember and renew, in the spirit of Christ, the relation of religion to human happiness.