God never wrought miracles to convince atheism, because His ordinary works convince it.
A sunny, happy face naturally, is worth a world of recipes upon cheerfulness. Only let one possessing it come into a room where there are a number of melancholy souls, and see how soon the magnetic influence begins to relax the lines of care around the mouth and eyes of the burdened ones, and the light of forgotten smiles to illumine the dark faces! The very breath of summer has blown through the room, bringing the breath of meadow sweets on its wings.
HOW A GREAT MISTAKE WAS DISCOVERED.
A TRUE INCIDENT.
My grandmother was always looked upon by those who knew her as a good Churchwoman, a dutiful wife, an affectionate mother, and a good neighbour. She attended the services and partook of the Sacrament regularly, visited the sick, gave alms to the poor, and was generally regarded as a very religious, upright, consistent, and exemplary person. Yet, notwithstanding this outward goodness, her mind was not at rest. Her religion yielded no joy, her service brought no satisfaction. Nor could it be otherwise, for, instead of it being the spontaneous outflow of a heart constrained by love, it was as a task imposed—a duty performed in the hope of pleasing God, and meriting His favour, and in this way obtaining peace and rest to her soul.
Poor grandmother! These were "deadly doings"; but she knew it not, for her eyes were blinded by the god of this world (Satan), and her unsuccessful attempts to procure peace by these means often left her depressed in spirit and cast down in mind. But God had better things in store for her, although it was by no ordinary means that He was pleased to make known to her His more excellent way.
One Sunday, she went to church as usual, and took part in the singing and prayers, which were performed in the same mechanical order as at other times. It was not until the text was read out that her attention was particularly aroused; but this so arrested her that it all seemed to be intended for herself. The words, "Ye must be born again," uttered by the lips of an unconverted preacher, were made the message of God to her soul, but not as yet the message of peace. Her conscience was troubled, and as the words of the text were revolved in her mind, and the necessity of the new birth laid hold upon her heart, she trembled in her seat, and all her fancied goodness fled away; for here was Nicodemus, a good man, a teacher of religion, a pattern of morality, being told by the Lord Jesus that he must be "born again," or he could not enter heaven. She could see now that her almsgiving and church-going would not satisfy the righteous claims of a just and holy God.
She had made a most blessed discovery—that she was a lost sinner, "having no hope, and without God in the world." She returned home in great distress of mind, and so continued until the next day. These painful exercises then showed no signs of abatement, for the words of the text kept ringing in her ears; so, on the morrow, as early as convenient, she sought an interview with the clergyman, in the hope that he might be able to minister relief to her troubled heart.