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  THE FAMILY AT HOME T3
  by Gorham D. Abbot
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Abbot's practical guide to Christian family life, addressing the duties and
relationships within the home including parental responsibility, child-rearing,
domestic management, and the cultivation of a godly household atmosphere.

  Chapters: 9

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  TABLE OF CONTENTS
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    1. B - Section 1
    2. C - Section 2
    3. D - Section 3
    4. E - Section 4
    5. F - Section 5
    6. G - Section 6
    7. H - Section 7
    8. I - Section 8
    9. J - Section 9

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  CHAPTER 1: B - SECTION 1
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The Family at Home Familiar Illustrations of Various Domestic Duties by Gorham
D. Abbott, 1833

Section 1 The following volume was placed in my hands by one of the most active
members of the Executive Committee of the London Religious Tract Society, with
an earnest request, that I would introduce it to the American Christian
community. And I do this the more readily, and with more pleasure, from the
conviction which I have, that it is calculated to shed a most happy influence
over the relative duties of domestic life. It seems to me, so far as I am able
to understand the spirit of the Bible, that more is implied in the pious
obligations involved in the family tie, than is ordinarily recognized at the
present day. If we look back upon the history of the world, with a view to
discover the principles of the government of God from his dealings with men,
there is evidently an important design in the arrangement, which he has
constituted, for dividing the whole race into distinct and separate family
circles. This is equally obvious, whether we regard the nature of the relations
which are thus established, or whether we reflect upon the consequences, which
have grown out of them, as they are developed in every page of history, sacred
or profane. Perhaps we have no certain assurance, that, even if our first
parents had continued faithful and obedient, their children would have followed
their example, and that all successive generations of parents and children, in
their turn, down to the end of time, would have perpetuated the example and the
imitation of parental and filial obedience to the divine commands, and
consequently have secured the enjoyment of divine favor. But of this we are
certain, that, among every nation, kindred, tongue and people, the example of
disobedience has been, and certainly will be followed, except where Sovereign
Mercy interposes and rescues the parent or the child from the deadly influence
of the examples of sin, which they have witnessed and imitated. It is perfectly
evident, in the patriarchal days, that God regarded the head of the family as,
in some measure at least, responsible for the pious character of the whole
household. He was to be the representative of Jehovah himself, in making known
to the whole domestic circle the moral duties and ceremonial observances, which
the Almighty had enjoined. He was, in this capacity, to act as the family
Prophet. In offering the sacrifices, and in leading the devotions of the social
circle, the head of the family was obviously the family Priest. And everywhere,
the authority of the master of the house is manifest to have been supreme. He
was, to all intents and purposes, the absolute King. The movements of all that
appertained to the Patriarch were directed by his will. And guilt in the family
was guilt and shame upon his head. The consequences of disobedience and sin, not
the offender alone, but the parent and all the family were to share. In
conformity with this view, the sin of Esau, in selling his birthright, appears
in a stronger and clearer light. Not only did he alienate from himself the
birthright of an earthly inheritance, conveyed by primogeniture, but he lightly
esteemed the sacred and priestly prerogative of the head of the household. And
for this it was, that his story stands so conspicuous in the oracles of God, as
an instance of the guilt of such sin in the eyes of the Father of all, for
future generations to ponder and avoid. A most striking proof of the peculiar
manner in which the family relation is regarded by the Lord appears in the
promise to the Father of the Faithful—"In you shall all the families of the
earth be blessed." Whatever may tend to turn the attention of God’s people to
this subject, must be considered as a token for good. The multiplied avocations
of the religious world at the present day, which are calculated to divert the
mind from the duties, responsibilities, and privileges, that lie appropriately
"at home," need some restraining influence. There is danger of diverting our
Christian sympathies, efforts and prayers, unduly away from our homes. This
vineyard should be sacredly cultivated. This book, we hope and believe, will be
found a useful and interesting volume. And we commend it to the kind blessing of
Him, who is the God of all the families of the earth. On putting the present
volume to press, it was ascertained, that another work was announced in
Philadelphia, under the title of "The Family Book," which was the original title
of this work. In order to prevent mistakes, the name of this was changed.
Appropriate articles from different sources have been added, so that the work is
nearly double the size of the original English copy. Gorham D. Abbott, Boston,
Dec. 22, 1833. INTRODUCTION There is a well-known saying—"He who would end as
his father ended, must begin as his father began." If the father through life
acted wisely and well, the children cannot do better than follow his example.
But it is possible that, in passing through life, the parents have been
convinced of many errors; perhaps have smarted for their folly, and become wiser
by bitter experience. In such a case, if the parents have candor and humility
enough to point out to their children the mistakes into which they have fallen,
with the inconveniences they have suffered in consequence, and the advantages
they have found in correcting their sentiments and altering their habits, then
the wisdom of the children will appear, not in blindly following their parents
through all their errors, but in listening to their warnings, in avoiding their
mistakes, and so arriving at as good a conclusion as their parents, without
having so many painful steps to retrace. Such an act of parental kindness I have
often wished to perform for my dear children; and with that view, I have long
been in the habit of penning down such maxims and hints as I have gleaned in
passing through life—some of them gathered from the lips of my parents or other
friends; others resulting from observation, or experience of the inconveniences
resulting from an improper course of conduct. "Experience keeps a costly school;
but fools will learn in no other." I hope my children will not be guilty of such
folly, but will be glad to take advantage of the experience of others. The first
step to obtaining true wisdom for ourselves, or imparting useful instruction to
others, is to obtain a clear insight into human nature; to keep constantly in
view our own depravity and the corruption of our hearts, as the great source of
all our mistakes, both concerning the interests of time and eternity. We are too
apt to look upon idleness, extravagance, selfishness, incivility, and
peevishness, as accidental faults, which stand alone, and which are to be
corrected by arguing against this or that particular vice or folly; but the fact
is, they are all so many streams issuing from a corrupt fountain, and the only
effectual cure will be found in purifying the fountain. If the heart is renewed
by the grace of God, though lesser faults may for a time be overlooked, yet,
when they are fairly brought before the notice of the individual, they will be
regarded in the light of sins against God, and on that ground steadfastly and
successfully resisted. It is quite right that people should see the
inconvenience and mischief resulting from improper conduct; and we have great
reason to be thankful that sound policy is always on the side of duty, and that
godliness is found "profitable unto all things, having the promise of the life
that now is, and of that which is to come;" but then we must remember, that
worldly interest is but a very inferior motive. The promise of advantage in this
life—is to godliness and the minor virtues which godliness brings along with
it—not to the minor virtues detached from godliness. Besides, in point of fact,
they very seldom, if ever, are really separated. We sometimes see ungodly people
who are decent, industrious, frugal, and prosperous; but then there is so much
ill temper and peevishness mingled with these good qualities, as deprives them,
and those around, of the comfort their circumstances would lead us to suppose
they enjoyed; or perhaps there is such a miserly spirit as embitters all; or
such a worldly spirit as renders the thought of death dreadful, as the period
which will terminate all these pleasures, and give them nothing better in their
stead; or there is such a self-righteous spirit, as induces people really to
suppose that heaven is their just due, as a reward for their industry, decency,
and frugality in managing their little worldly affairs. One way or other it will
surely be seen, that there is no complete character except the true
Christian—and he, alas! is very far from perfect. There are two or three
principles, however, constantly operating on his mind, which tend to secure that
uniformity of character, which men of the world never attain, and for lack of
which, they are never thoroughly comfortable. In the first place, the Christian
sees himself as a sinner—unworthy of every good thing, and deserving everything
evil. This makes him humble, contented, and thankful. Then he habitually
remembers that he is accountable to God for every moment of time, and every atom
of worldly possession and influence with which he is entrusted. This teaches him
carefully and diligently to employ all in the best possible way, so as to
promote the happiness of his fellow-creatures, and the glory of God. Besides
this, he habitually considers himself as only a passenger through this world to
a better world. This is the best guard against worldly-mindedness, and, at the
same time, a great support under the sorrows and trials of life. Then, again,
feeling that he is indebted for all his comforts here, and for all his hopes of
heaven hereafter, to the free mercy of God in Jesus Christ, he finds the love of
Christ constraining him in everything so to live, as to glorify the Savior, and
to bring others to love and serve him too. The person who is habitually governed
by these principles, will most successfully pursue the study of "whatever things
are true, whatever things are honest, whatever things are pure, whatever things
are lovely and of good report," and will most effectually secure his own
happiness in this life, and the happiness of those around him. I therefore wish
my children to remember, that, though I may often set down some particular
instance of conduct, and the consequences resulting from it; it is my settled
conviction,—that whatever is bad in conduct flows from the inward depravity of
the heart, and whatever is really good flows from the renewing influences of the
Holy Spirit on the heart, making the tree good, that the fruit also may be good;
moreover, that, though people without religion may act wisely in some
particulars, there is nothing uniformly and permanently valuable in character,
but what springs from Christian principles. Being, as I have already observed,
chiefly indebted to the instructions of my parents and friends for any useful
knowledge I may be able to impart to my children and others, and not wishing to
receive credit for what does not belong to me, I shall first introduce my reader
to the acquaintance of those friends, and then proceed to give some of their
maxims, and, when I can recollect them, the occasions of their being
communicated. THE SUTTON FAMILY I will next give you such particulars as I have
been able to collect of the excellent and judicious friends, to whom I have
already alluded. On retiring from business, Mr. and Mrs. Sutton settled in the
country, and they were in comfortable, moderate circumstances, but not what
might be reckoned wealthy. Had they been intent on obtaining a large fortune,
they would most likely have remained longer in a flourishing business; but they
resolved rather to be content with moderation, and to retreat from the busy
world, that they might have more leisure to devote to the cultivation of
religion in their own souls, and to exert themselves for the good of their
fellow-creatures. Accordingly, having seen their eldest daughter comfortably
married, and given up business to two sons, they came, with two younger
daughters and one little boy, to settle in our village; and many have had reason
to be thankful that ever they came. Though the good old people have been dead
many years, and the young ones settled far away, their names are still held in
grateful remembrance; and perhaps some, who little think it, are to this day
indebted to them for the comfort of a decent, respectable servant, or of a
prudent, managing wife. It was my happiness, when a girl, to be often employed
in this excellent family, by which means I had frequent opportunities of
observing their good ways; and when, in course of years, I settled in life, and
began house-keeping for myself, the good old lady often paid me a visit, and
gave me such advice and admonitions as I have thought worth laying up for my
children’s children. It seemed to be the constant study of this worthy family,
how they might benefit others: there was no case of sorrow or suffering to which
they did not attempt to afford relief. For this purpose they not only freely
gave of their substance, but they spared no pains to put people in a way of
bettering their own condition. It is surprising to observe how much everyone’s
condition, under God, depends on himself; and how much things may be bettered
by, as the saying is, taking hold of the tool at the right end. There was a
wealthy man in the place, a kind-hearted, well-meaning man in his way, and who,
as I have heard, had many more thousands a year than Mr. Sutton had hundreds;
but which of them did most good among the poor? The latter, ten to one. The
former, it is true, never refused to give relief to any case of distress, real
or pretended; but then he did not trouble himself to go among the people, and
find out the causes of their distress, and put them upon exerting themselves in
the best way, and bringing up their families in an orderly, respectable and
pious manner. This good work, in our village, chiefly rested with Mr. and Mrs.
Sutton: they were indefatigable in it, and, by this means, they were greater
benefactors to the poor than if they had lavished among them thousands a year
without discrimination and without personal exertion. Indeed, after they came
into the village, what was otherwise given in charity was turned to much better
account than it was before, for people often consulted them, and always attended
to their recommendation. When we see good fruit, we generally feel an interest
in knowing something about the nature of the tree that produced it; and my
children will, like myself, be inclined to inquire by what principles this
amiable family were influenced and regulated, and what was the source of the
excellency they discovered. I have already sufficiently intimated that it was a
pious family; I may add, that, from what I constantly saw and heard among them,
I was first led to form an idea what true religion is. I have mentioned being
frequently employed in the house at needlework: besides this, I have several
times traveled with the family; and once I was in the house several months
together, on account of the dangerous illness of the youngest Miss Sutton. For
several weeks, my mother, a domestic, named Mary, and myself, took turns in
sitting up with the young lady; thus we had many opportunities of seeing and
hearing what was good, and I do hope it was made a great blessing to us. For the
first three weeks, Miss Sutton was scarcely at all sensible: during that time
her affectionate parents were filled with the deepest distress and anxiety,
which, as we could find, both from their conversation and prayers, arose not so
much from her state of suffering, or even the prospect of losing her, as from a
deep concern to be assured of her everlasting safety and welfare. This was often
a matter of surprise to my mother and myself; indeed there were many remarks
made, and many practices adopted in this family, which we could not at all
understand; and my mother used to think they were rather to blame in speaking so
plainly about death and preparation for it, lest it should alarm the poor young
lady. We were, however, soon convinced that, if the soul and eternity are of
real importance, the attention paid to them was not greater than the subject
justly demanded. Old Mary, and Robert the gardener, had lived in the family a
great many years. Robert had been gardener to Mr. Sutton’s father, and, on his
death, from attachment to the family, lived with Mr. Sutton, in the city, until
his retiring from business to live in the country again placed him in a
situation more agreeable to his early habits. Mary also had been in the family
ever since Mr. Sutton’s marriage. Both were completely identified with all the
interests of the family, and seemed to look on the young people almost as if
they were their own children. Old Robert was always on the watch, when any one
came out of the sick room, to inquire what sort of a night his dear young lady
had passed, or to offer choice flowers, or fresh ripe fruit, which he hoped she
might fancy. One evening, we were all sent downstairs to supper, while Mr. and
Mrs. Sutton remained with their daughter. Old Robert began the conversation by
asking my mother whether she thought there were any hopes of Miss Harriet’s
recovery. Mother replied, she had very little hope, but there was no certainty:
she had seen people still worse who yet had been restored. Robert.—"I am sure
many, many fervent prayers ascend on her behalf; and we know that God is a God
hearing and answering prayer." Old Mary.—"I am sure I, for one, should be most
truly thankful for her recovery; and yet I pray more earnestly still, and so do
her dear parents, that she may be enabled to leave some decided testimony of her
safety for eternity. Dear child! she knows what is necessary to a sinner’s
salvation, and if she might but express that her mind is fixed on the Rock of
Ages, I could resign her, and so could master and mistress. If the soul is
safe—it little matters whether death comes in youth or old age. But it is not
for us to dictate. She has been the child of many fervent prayers; she has been
instructed in the way of salvation, and she has had holy examples set before
her. We may hope that the Lord is working on her mind, though she is not capable
of expressing it; yet it is very natural that her anxious parents should long to
know from her own lips the state of her mind at this solemn period." Mother.—"I
wonder, for my part, that they should be so anxious on that particular: there is
no doubt but what she is very safe. If she is not fit to go, what will become of
thousands? Think how well she has been brought up; and so amiable and well
behaved; and so good to the poor! ’Tis hard parting, to be sure, but I wish
every child of mine were as fit to go. It is a pity her parents should distress
themselves about it. If she had not been so good as she has been, yet God
Almighty is very merciful; but she, dear innocent young creature, is sure to go
to heaven." Mary.—"Ah, my friend, these things cannot satisfy the minds of her
parents. Amiable and good as she has been—and there could scarcely be a child
more dutiful and amiable—the Bible tells us we are all sinners in the sight of
God; and except we believe on the Lord Jesus Christ for life and salvation, we
must perish." Mother.—"And do you suppose she does not believe on the Lord Jesus
Christ?" Mary.—"I have no doubt she believes that what the Bible says about him
is true; but what we are anxious to know is, that she feels herself to be a
lost, perishing sinner, and in deep concern commits her soul into the hands of
the Lord Jesus, to be saved in his own appointed way. This is a very different
thing from believing in a general, careless manner. If we believe to the saving
of the soul, we apply to the Lord Jesus Christ, feeling that we need his
salvation, as much as if we were the only beings who had sinned, and needed a
Savior; and we cannot rest satisfied without a well-grounded confidence and
heartfelt experience of his salvation. "You know, now Miss Harriet is sick, we
are not satisfied with knowing that the doctor is a skillful man, and that he
has plenty of excellent medicines in his shop, but we apply to him, and desire
that he would come himself, and give his advice in this particular case, and we
get the dear young lady to take the medicines he prescribes. So, every sinner
must feel and bewail his own sin and misery, and seek Christ far himself, in
fervent prayer, and have the remedy provided in the gospel applied to his own
case." Mother.—"Well, if all this belongs to believing in Christ, and obtaining
salvation, I am afraid there are thousands who call themselves believers, and
yet know nothing at all about it." Robert.—"No doubt of that. I remember the
time when I thought little about it myself: my parents taught me to be honest,
industrious, and civil, and so I got the name of a good lad. As it was the
custom of my parents, I went to church meeting at least once every Sunday, and
generally read a chapter in the Bible every evening. I used also to say the
Lord’s Prayer, and the Ten Commandments, night and morning, unless I was very
much hurried or tired. This was more than many young men did; and I thought
myself very good indeed. I was not over fond of thinking about death, but if
ever the thought did come into my mind, I persuaded myself that I had done no
harm, and was sure to go to heaven; but all the while I was as great a stranger
to repentance, faith, and prayer—as if I had been born a heathen!" Mary.—"Yes,
it was the same with all of us at that time; and oh, what a mercy that we were
not left to perish in that state of ignorance! We may well say, ’God, who is
rich in mercy, for his great love with which he loved us, even when we were dead
in sins, has quickened us together with Christ. By grace we are saved.’"
Mother.—"Well, it is a great mercy to be set right, if you were wrong before.
And were Mr. and Mrs. Sutton of the same way of thinking? And how was it that
you all took such a new turn?" Mary.—"I will tell you all about it. When they
were first married, they thought little about the religion of the heart. They
were upright and kind to their fellow-creatures, and decent in their attendance
on public worship; but at that time, it may be truly said of the whole family,
we were living without God in the world. "When Miss Ellen was born, a nurse was
recommended to my mistress by an old lady whom she greatly respected. Mistress
was not one of those mothers who leave their children entirely to the care of
domestics, though at that time she loved pleasure more, and was more inclined to
go out than she now is. However, let children be ever so well attended by their
parents, it is a great matter to have a faithful, conscientious nurse, such as
Fanny proved herself to be. When she came to be hired, she was very particular
in engaging for liberty to attend public worship at least once every Lord’s day,
unless there was illness: this my mistress readily granted her, and it was the
only liberty she required; indeed, there was no persuading her to leave sight of
her charge for a single hour on any other business whatever; and even then, she
was as particular in her directions to me and the housemaid, as if the child had
been her own. She had very good ways with the children, (she lived with us until
there were seven of them,) keeping them in strict subjection, and yet so
cheerful and happy. Never were pleasanter children, nor children who gave less
trouble to those around them, which I must, in a great measure, attribute to her
good methods with them. "Fanny generally spent her leisure, when she had any,
(which was not very often, for she was industrious with her needle,) in the
nursery, reading good books; yet she was by no means morose or gloomy. If we
invited her, she had no objection to sit an hour with the rest of us in the
kitchen; but she could not endure any light, vain conversation, or foolish song,
or jest books, which, I am sorry to say, we at that time saw no harm in.
However, she made herself very agreeable; having traveled much, and seen a great
deal of the world, her conversation was always entertaining, though she never
failed to give it also an instructive turn, and often proposed to read a chapter
in the Bible, or an extract from some good book which she had by her, or had
borrowed. "By degrees she quietly wrought a great change in our kitchen: instead
of vain, unprofitable talk, that one should have been ashamed to remember, we
either spoke of something useful, or else Robert read to us as we sat at our
needlework. "As the children became old enough to understand anything, Fanny
spared no pains in teaching them sweet little hymns and catechisms, suited to
their capacities; she used also to read the Bible, and pray with them, and took
them with her to public worship. My mistress did not object to this, for, though
she thought them too young to understand what they heard, she was always
satisfied as to their being safe in Fanny’s care. But children understand more
than grown people are aware of. Their father and mother were fond of the
children, and often had them into the parlor, but they did not at that time
notice these things, and, perhaps, hardly knew the instructions which were
bestowed on them. "But, with Fanny’s serious conversation and reading, and the
children’s pretty little sayings, we, in the kitchen, began to think there must
be something in religion beyond a mere name. I believe Robert was the first who
proposed to go with Fanny to her place of worship." Robert.—"Yes, and never, I
trust, shall I forget it. Every word the minister said came home to my
conscience, and I could get no rest nor peace. I shall never forget how all my
honesty, and civility, and prayers, (as I called them,) shrunk into nothing
before the holy word of God; and I felt, at once, that I was a wretched, ruined
sinner, deserving nothing but everlasting misery." Mary.—"And how Sally, the
housemaid, and I, laughed at you, when you were determined to go again in the
evening! We little thought how soon we should feel in the same manner."
Robert.—"Yes, you all thought it was because I liked Fanny’s company, and so I
did; but that is nothing now; it was not to be. But we have all reason to be
thankful that she was sent among us, to be the means of leading our feet into
the way of salvation." Mother.—"But you said you could get no rest nor peace,
your mind was so uneasy with what you had heard." Robert.—"Indeed, I could not
have peace, when I saw myself a perishing sinner, until I went again and again
to hear the gospel, and read the Bible for myself, and so was enabled to see and
believe, that ’Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners, of whom I am
chief!’ And oh! what a different thing it is to read the Bible, and hear the
preaching of the gospel, when one has the full impression that we are reading
and hearing for the salvation of our own precious souls! Only think what a
difference it would be, if we were reading a common newspaper, or if we had been
told that that newspaper contained an advertisement of a great fortune which we
might have on applying, and proving our relationship to such and such people."
Mother.—"I believe it would, too! We should not be trifling about other people’s
affairs, but we would read that one advertisement over and over again, and try
to understand every word of it, and consider how we might best apply, and how we
could prove ourselves to be the parties described. And really, when one comes to
think of it, it is a matter of far greater concern that we should know whether
or not our souls are safe for the eternal world; for we none of us know how soon
we may be cut off by death.—And have you felt so ever since?" Robert.—"I hope I
have never lost the concern that was then awakened, nor ever been disposed to
look upon sin as a trifle. It is still my grief that so much sin cleaves to me,
and that I cannot do the things that I would. Sometimes the sinfulness of my
heart so overwhelms me, that I seem to think it is scarcely possible for so
sinful a creature to be pardoned and accepted; but then I go again to my Bible,
and there I find that ’the blood of Jesus Christ cleanses us from all sin;’ that
’He is able to save to the uttermost, all who come to God by him;’ and ’whoever
comes to Jesus—he will never drive away;’ and thus I again find comfort and
strength; and so, by the help of God’s Holy Spirit, whom God has promised to
those who ask him, I hope to go on to the end, and so receive the end of my
faith, even the salvation of my soul." Mother.—"Well, that is a happy state of
mind. I can only say I wish that mine was like it. And how was it that the rest
were brought into the same way of thinking?" Mary.—"Why, as opportunity offered,
sometimes Sally went with Fanny and Robert, and sometimes I went; and the more
we went, the more we liked to go; and we all took more pains to contrive our
work on a Saturday, and as we all agreed together, and were willing to help one
another, it was never necessary for more than one to stay at home. So we had
many opportunities: and, as ’faith comes by hearing, and hearing by the word of
God,’ the Lord was pleased to open our hearts, as he did the heart of Lydia, to
attend to the things which were spoken by the minister; and we searched the
scriptures daily whether those things were so, and prayed earnestly that we
might be taught by the Holy Spirit, and ’made wise unto salvation, through faith
which is in Christ Jesus.’ And thus, having obtained help from God, we continue
to the present day; still very ignorant, and very sinful, yet waiting on the
Lord, and looking for the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ, unto eternal life.—But
you inquired how the change was brought about in the minds of our dear master
and mistress with respect to religion." Robert.—"Ah, that is a painful story!
And yet we have all reason to say that joy arose in the midst of grief, and
that, in the time of affliction, God remembered mercy, and bestowed that which
more than made up for all he saw fit to take away. But you shall tell the story,
Mary; I never can have the heart to go through with it." Mary.—"Well, when we
were all brought to know and love the truth, we used, as the Bible says, to take
sweet counsel together, and walk to the house of God in company. Master and
mistress were very kind, and as we always managed the work on a Saturday, and
took turns in staying at home, so that they were never inconvenienced by our
going out, they never interfered with it, but often expressed themselves pleased
with our faithful services: it would be a shame indeed if Christian domestics
were not faithful. But, as far as we could judge, our master and mistress had
little or no serious concern about their souls. They generally went to church
once on the Sunday, if the weather was fine, and spent the rest of the day in
visiting and walking; they also, most days, read a chapter in the Bible: this
was quite as much religion as most of their acquaintances possessed, and it
seemed quite enough to satisfy them. You may suppose that, when we were brought,
as we trust, to know something of a more vital and influential piety, we became
anxiously concerned that our dear master and mistress should share our
happiness. It would not do for us to set up for their teachers, but we took an
opportunity, now and then, in a respectful way, to drop a hint, which never gave
any offence, though it never seemed to make any deep impression. Good Fanny,
being constantly with the children, saw more of mistress than the rest of us,
and had more opportunities of speaking. She had been longer in the ways of God,
and knew, better than the rest of us, what to say, and when and how to say it.
However, we all prayed for them most earnestly and affectionately. I may say
again, in the words of scripture, ’Then those who feared the Lord spoke often
one to another, and the Lord hearkened and heard, and a book of remembrance was
written before him, for those who feared the Lord, and who thought upon his
name.’ "But when we pray for spiritual blessings, how little do we think in what
way our prayers are to be answered! We were living very happily together,
delighted to see the docility and improvement of the sweet children, and only
desiring the conversion of our master and mistress, when Miss Ellen came home,
very sick: the illness proved to be the measles. She had it very favorably; but
the rest of the children took it, and two of them died; the youngest a sweet
little babe of ten months old, and the other a fine boy of six years. Oh what a
house of mourning was ours when death first entered it! Master and mistress were
dotingly fond of their children, and, when that fine lovely babe died, it seemed
as if they would break their hearts; but that was only the beginning of sorrows.
Don’t you remember, Robert, how affectingly master spoke to you about it, some
time afterwards?" Robert.—"Yes, quite well. He said—The first stroke seemed too
heavy to be borne. We were rebellious under it; we struggled like a wild bull in
a net; and felt as if God had no right to touch our treasures. It took more and
severer strokes to bend our stubborn souls; but God, who is rich in mercy,
opened a way to our hearts by means of affliction, and then came in himself and
filled the painful void." Mary.—"Well, when this dear little William died, it
was hoped that all the rest were going on favorably; but a cold easterly wind
set in just at the time, and, though every care was taken of the dear little
sufferers, Master Herbert, the flower of the flock, was seized with inflammation
of the lungs, and died!" Robert.—"But oh, what a happy death was his! His kind
nurse had been the means of bringing this dear little lamb to the Good Shepherd,
and while he lay suffering, and his dear parents were weeping over him, he was
continually saying some sweet verse of scripture, or of his little hymns, about
the love of Jesus, and assuring them that he was quite happy and willing to go
to Jesus; or fervently praying, in his own simple language, for his dear papa
and mamma, and brothers and sisters, and even everyone of us servants by name.
It was a melting scene. His dying sayings surely sunk into the hearts of his
dear parents." Mary.—"Yes, that they did. I remember, when we had laid the dear
little corpse in the coffin, my poor dear mistress bent over it, and said,
’Would to God I were where my child is! I can bear this stroke better than the
former; and, dearly as I love my remaining children, I could gladly part with
them all, and go myself, if we were all sure of dying as happy and as well
prepared as this precious child!’ Poor Fanny, though herself almost
broken-hearted, as indeed we all were, talked sweetly to mistress, and begged
her to carry her sorrows to God in prayer, and beseech him to make the
affliction a blessing, by leading her to that gracious Savior, who had been so
gracious to the dying child. Then she gave her the little books with which
William used to be so delighted, and marked the passages of scripture he loved
to repeat. The bereaved mother withdrew with them to her chamber, where she
remained some hours; and I do believe she then began to seek a throne of mercy
for herself the few remaining days that Fanny was with us." Mother.—"What! did
she leave you soon afterwards?" Mary.—"Yes, indeed, she did, never to return!
When little Herbert’s funeral was over, mistress was continually going into the
nursery, and asking questions about him; she seemed like a little child among
the children. Her attention was awakened to those things which she never had
before regarded. She found the need of consolations which the world could not
bestow; and she felt assured, that her dear dying child had enjoyed those
consolations through the truths impressed upon him by his faithful nurse. After
two weeks had elapsed from the time of his death, when Fanny herself was seized
with the illness—she had it very severely, and, though she did not actually die
under the disease, she never recovered from it. A cough settled on her lungs,
and she went off in a rapid consumption. You may suppose that master and
mistress were greatly distressed at the prospect of losing so valuable a
servant, and one who had been so great a blessing to their dear children. "They
kept her in the house, and paid her every possible attention; but it was all in
vain, as to this world. However, even this additional trial proved a great
blessing to all the family. The good old lady who first recommended Fanny to the
place, often visited her in her illness, and her conversation was very consoling
and profitable to my mistress, who, though she had long respected her, never
until now knew her real worth. With some hesitation, Fanny expressed a wish to
see the faithful minister on whom she had long attended. To this our master and
mistress readily consented: whatever prejudices they might formerly have felt on
such a subject, had now given way; their hearts were softened and inquiring; and
they were ready to receive, as an angel of God, any one who could instruct them
in those sacred truths which they now perceived to be of infinite value. The
good man became a frequent visitor, and, by the bedside of the dying servant, he
uttered many a sentiment, and breathed many a prayer, which, through the Holy
Spirit’s influence, sunk deep into the hearts of our master and mistress. "The
last days and hours of this excellent young woman were rich in heavenly hopes
and consolations many precious instructions flowed to us all, from her dying
lips; and her memory is to this day fondly cherished in all our hearts. The
whole family followed to the grave the remains of faithful Fanny, and were
present at her funeral sermon. The preaching was of a totally different kind
from the cold, trifling, and formal sound which our master and mistress had been
used to attend. They at once perceived that the minister was in earnest, and
that he really believed the things he uttered were true and important. This
naturally excited serious attention. Then he so carefully proved from scripture
whatever he advanced, that there was no questioning it; and his tender and
affectionate spirit tended to win the heart. From that time the family regularly
attended his ministry, as long as we resided in the city; and he has been to
visit the family since we came into the country. "Under these various means, our
master and mistress were gradually enlightened to perceive their own state,
however amiable and estimable their characters before men, as guilty and
polluted in the sight of God, and altogether without hope, except from the free
mercy of God, in Jesus Christ. Like the apostle, they have been brought to say,
’But whatever was to my profit I now consider loss for the sake of Christ. What
is more, I consider everything a loss compared to the surpassing greatness of
knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things. I consider
them rubbish, that I may gain Christ and be found in him, not having a
righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which is through faith
in Christ—the righteousness that comes from God and is by faith. I want to know
Christ and the power of his resurrection and the fellowship of sharing in his
sufferings, becoming like him in his death.’ "I need hardly tell you, that, when
these sentiments and feelings had taken possession of their hearts, a suitable
change was soon seen in the conduct of their family. The Sabbath was entirely
devoted to its sacred purposes; family worship was established; worldly
pleasures abandoned; and the great concern about the children, was, that they
might be brought up ’in the nurture and admonition of the Lord;’ and, as they
advanced in years and understanding, the utmost anxiety was evinced by the
affectionate parents, that each might become a personal subject and possessor of
divine grace. They have often spoken of it, as a great mercy, that they were
brought to a knowledge of the truth while their children were yet young and
tender; the eldest was not more than nine or ten years old, and the instructions
of their nurse had prepared them receive the instructions of their parents; and
I suppose they can scarcely remember the time when things were different from
what they now are. The fervent prayers of the parents have been answered, and
their pious endeavors succeeded and blessed in a good degree. The eldest four of
the family have long been decidedly pious, and the two younger are amiable and
hopeful. This dear Miss Harriet is, as you say, a kind, gentle, lovely young
lady; but, from what we have told you of the views and experience of the
parents, you cannot wonder that they should be deeply anxious to obtain decisive
evidence that she knows the grace of God in truth, and is enabled, in this
trying hour, to rest a firm hope for eternity on Jesus Christ, the Savior of
sinners." Mother.—"Indeed, I do not wonder at it; and I hope it may please God
to grant their desire. But I want to know who took care of the children after
the death of your fellow-servant Fanny?" Mary.—"Why, master and mistress were
sadly afraid of engaging anyone on whom they could not rely for acting in the
fear of God, and instilling holy principles into the minds of the children. As
there was not a young infant to mind, and Sally the housemaid, and myself, were
very fond of the children, we begged mistress not to hurry about getting anyone,
assuring her we would do our best to make things comfortable, and would prefer
engaging in a little extra work, rather than running the hazard of having a
fellow-servant who might not be a comfortable companion in the best things. I
must say, Robert was as willing as either of us to make this bargain, and never
objected to put his hand to anything by which the general comfort of the family
might be promoted; and so we have gone on very happily ever since. "Mistress,
having given up her mirthful engagements, resolved to devote herself to the
education of her children. In this great work she found the advice of the good
old lady highly valuable; indeed, the intimacy was like that of a mother and
daughter. "At first, mistress was sadly afraid she should experience great
interruption in her new plans, from the visits of her impious acquaintances; but
the difficulty did not prove nearly so great as had been expected. Most of them
were sickened at the change they perceived, and dropped off one after another,
saying that Mr. and Mrs. Sutton had gone melancholy since the loss of their
children. Never was a greater mistake; for it was then they began to know what
true happiness means. However, it is a pleasure to say, that all did not thus
forsake them in disgust, but that several families of their acquaintance were
induced by their example to think seriously about religion, and, in time, became
their companions in the ways of God. "About two years after the death of the two
children and their nurse, it pleased God to bestow on our dear master and
mistress another son, whom they called, after his departed brothers, William
Herbert. Being so much younger than the rest, he has always been the darling of
the family; I hope and trust he will not be spoiled. He is the child of many
prayers, and of wise parental government; and, from many little circumstances
that have come under our observation, we have great hope that his dear young
mind is inclined to seek the God of his parents. About the time of his birth, a
governess was engaged to assist mistress in teaching the young ladies: she was a
pious person; and, as all went hand in hand with the parents, great success has
attended their endeavors. Never was a more lovely and well-behaved family than
ours; at least, I think so, and so do many who are better judges. But the great
care and anxiety is, still, to ascertain that the root of the matter is in them;
for, as humbling as it may be, it is a truth, that the loveliest babe that ever
was born, and the most amiable youth that ever eyes beheld, is a guilty,
depraved creature, and must be born again before it can see the kingdom of God."
("I tell you the truth, no one can see the kingdom of God unless he is born
again." John 3:3) Mother.—"I thank you for telling me all this, and I shall
often think of it; for, if such a change was necessary to those good people, it
is surely as necessary to me and mine. "I must ask you one more question: What
became of Sally, the housemaid? She did not come into the country with you."
Mary.—"No—she was married to one of master’s young men, just before we came
down; and she keeps house, and attends upon the two young gentlemen, who are now
in business. They highly value her, as trusty and faithful, and master and
mistress are satisfied in knowing that there is a prudent, careful person to
look after their comfort and expenses; for young men, especially in London, are
exposed to great snares and dangers. But, as Sally said in her last letter, it
is such a comfort to see them steadily following the ways of their dear
parents—useful and honorable in the church of God, and promoters of every good
word and work." At the close of this long conversation, the bell rang for one of
us to sit by Miss Harriet’s bedside, and the rest to come in to family prayer.
Mr. and Mrs. Sutton had evidently been weeping much; they, however, appeared
peaceful and resigned. Mr. Sutton read the 126th Psalm, and, in prayer,
committed their dear dying child, as she then appeared, to the care and
protection of Infinite Mercy, at the same time expressing a grateful hope that
she herself had not been a stranger to the throne of grace. We afterwards
learned that the conversation had been very satisfactory and consolatory. She
had opened her mind to her parents, and had relieved theirs. Timidity and
reserve had hitherto restrained her lips; but now, in the near prospect of
eternity, she ventured to state, that she had long sought the Lord in humble
prayer, and was now permitted to enjoy his supporting presence. She had still a
faint recollection of the scene when the children were taken into Fanny’s dying
chamber, to receive her last farewell, and when she entreated each of them to
apply to that gracious Savior who said, "Allow little children to come unto me,
and forbid them not, for of such is the kingdom of heaven." At that time, the
children wept, they scarcely knew why. The next day, they were told that Fanny
was gone to heaven, to their dear little brothers, and to that Savior whom she
had taught them to love; and the passages she had urged on their attention
became permanently associated in their minds with the affectionate tenderness of
one they had so dearly loved, and the happiness on which she had so soon
entered. The happy change that took place in the minds and habits of the parents
tended to confirm these early impressions on their children; and they had now
the unspeakable happiness of seeing the elder four walking in the truth; and
now, concerning the youngest, who had shared the instructions and solicitude of
their long-lost pious nurse, of cherishing the pleasing hope, that, "whether she
lived, she would live to the Lord, or whether she died, she would die unto the
Lord; and so, living or dying, she would be the Lord’s." It pleased God to raise
Miss Harriet from her bed of sickness, and to spare her to become an ornament to
true religion, and a great blessing to all connected with her. I may add, that,
during many weeks, in which she was slowly recovering, it was my happiness, and
that of my dear mother, to gather those instructions from the reading, the
conversation, and the prayers of this pious family, which, I trust, have proved
a great and lasting benefit to us. DEFERENCE TO PARENTS I once received a useful
lesson from some kind friends, which leads me to look back with keen
self-reproach; and that, perhaps, is generally the case with the most profitable
lessons we receive; for the more clearly we are taught what we ought to do and
be, the more we shall be humbled at observing how far we have fallen short of
it. The point to which I allude is deference to parents—one on which I believe
many young people transgress, more from lack of due consideration, than from
really bad intentions. I have observed, that, when my mother was out at work, or
nursing, it fell to my lot to keep house for my father and brothers: I grieve to
think how often, in this respect, I failed in my duty. Having an employment of
my own, I was too apt to regard my time and earnings as entirely mine—and to
grudge any interruption. Often my dear father has come in, cold and weary, and
found the fire out, the house untidy, and no supper prepared. Instead of
attending to these things, I have been eagerly busy at my needlework, pleasing
myself with the thought of what I should earn, or, perhaps, amusing myself with
altering my own clothes to the newest fashion that had come to my knowledge.
Father was a mild, quiet man, and seldom found fault; but I am sure my
unkindness and neglect must have given him pain at the time, as they have given
me many an uneasy feeling since. One day, when I was about seventeen years of
age, a gentleman from a distance came to reside in our neighborhood, and both my
mother and myself got many days’ employment in settling the family. Mother got
the house in order, and cleaned the furniture, as it arrived by the wagon; and I
set at work with the young ladies, making up window-curtains and other things of
that description. Just as the house had gotten finally settled, mother was
called away to a neighbor whom she had engaged to nurse. As I had only two or
three hours’ work to do, she left the key of our house with me, and charged me
to be sure and go home in good time to get my father some supper. In the course
of the day, the ladies thought of some more work they wanted done, and asked me
when I could be spared from home. I replied, that, if they pleased, I would stay
then, and not go home at all; for I was delighted at working with the young
ladies, and getting such profitable employment. But the lady of the house, who
had heard my mother’s charge to me, asked me who was at home to provide for my
father’s comfort. I answered her with some degree of confusion; for, though I
had never thought much about the matter before, my conscience felt as if I had
neglected a duty. She then very kindly said to me, "My good girl, it is quite
right that you should be diligent in your business, and desirous of honest gain;
but let your duty to your parents have its proper place—they have the strongest
claims on your gratitude and obedience. Think how much of their own comfort they
have relinquished to provide for and make you comfortable when you could do
nothing for yourself! Think what they have sacrificed to procure you the
knowledge by which you are enabled to maintain yourself now, and to assist in
the support of the family!" My confusion increased; for I felt conscious that,
as I approached to womanhood, I had fancied myself my own mistress, and
especially since I had been out to work, that I had spent most of my earnings on
myself, and had in many respects been very deficient in consulting the comforts
and wishes of my parents. Perhaps they, too, had erred in indulgence towards me,
and leaving me too much to my own disposal. They would not have done this had
they observed in me any particular wicked propensity; but, seeing me, in the
main, tolerably steady and industrious, they were thrown off their guard. This
is a danger to which well-disposed parents are often exposed, especially when
the children have had anything like an education of which the parents have been
destitute: they are apt to think too highly of the little attainments of their
children, and to treat them with deference as a superior kind of beings. Such
conduct too frequently leads children to forget their dependence and
obligations, and the respect and deference due to parents. During the remainder
of the day, nothing more was said to me on the subject, and it is very likely
that the lady thought no more about it; but a train of reflections was awakened
in my mind, which proved of lasting benefit. I resolved from that hour to be
more observant of the wishes of my parents; and it was my happiness, years
afterwards, to receive from each, the dying parent’s blessing on a dutiful
child. Let me set down, by way of admonition to all other young people, a few
instances in which I recollect my own early failures, and in correcting which,
the happiness of my dear parents was promoted, as well as my own peace of mind.
One thing to which I have already alluded is, prompt and punctual attention to
their requests and comforts. Though my parents had borne much, and complained
little—I shall never forget the fond pat which my dear father gave me that first
night, when, on coming home, weary and hungry, he found a cheerful fire, a
clean-swept hearth, and a bit of hot bacon and potatoes ready to set on table;
nor the tender tear that started in my mother’s eye, when I carried her gray
cloak to the house where she was nursing, to keep her warm if she should have to
sit up all night: these were the first fruits of my friend’s admonition. Another
point on which I had not sufficiently consulted my parents’ comfort was that of
regularity at meals. Regularity is at all times desirable, and as people advance
in life, it becomes of more consequence that they should take their meals and
retire to rest with punctuality. When awakened to think more particularly of my
duty to my parents, I recollected with pain, that I had sometimes allowed my
mother to rise and prepare breakfast, and to call me again and again before I
could shake off sloth and obey the summons; that I had often been sitting
eagerly at my work, or gossiping at the door with a neighbor’s daughter, when my
parents were waiting for dinner or supper; that I had sometimes been out when I
ought to have been at home; or had brought my young companions uninvited, and
when, perhaps, their company was an intrusion on the rest or quietness my
parents wished to enjoy. It only required a habitual and conscientious sense of
what my parents had a right to expect, and what it ought to be my pleasure to
yield, to do away with all these improprieties. And here I cannot help noticing,
that proper behavior towards parents is the safeguard of many other virtues, and
the security against many temptations. It checks indolence; for a dutiful child
cannot be idle, and allow a parent to toil. It checks extravagance; for, so far
from appropriating all earnings to his own use, much less sponging on the
resources of his parents, the dutiful child will be intent on sparing from his
own gratification for the comfort of those so dear to him, and to whom he is so
deeply indebted. It checks self-conceit; for a child accustomed to consult the
wishes and opinions of parents, so often sees his own mistakes corrected, and
perceives the advantage of looking to those wiser and more experienced than
himself, that it very much tends to sober his opinion of his own judgment. It
tends to break the snare of unprofitable or injurious company; for the youth who
drops a friend, in compliance with the wishes of wise and good parents,
generally lives to see that the friendship would have done him no good. I can
look back on several friends who have turned out very worthless, and have
involved in ruin those connected with them, concerning whom, years before, my
parents had said to one or other of us, "I’d have you beware of such a person;
don’t be hasty in forming a friendship; I think he (or she) will not prove a
profitable acquaintance." Once I thought my parents narrow-minded in these
remarks; but subsequent events have so frequently showed that their judgment was
right, as to lead me almost to attach a sacred authority to their sayings.
Another advantage resulting from dutiful conduct to parents is this—It is the
best preparative for filling up every other relation in life with propriety. The
best child bids fair to make the best husband or wife, and best knows what to
expect and claim from children, and how to enforce those just claims and
expectations. To return to the time when that lady’s remark made such an
impression on my own mind.—As soon as I could be spared from home, I went there
to work again. At family prayer, that evening, a chapter was read out of one of
the epistles, (I believe it was Ephesians,) in which a great deal is said about
the duty of children to their parents. At that time, I thought it was all meant
for me; however, I resolved not to take offence, but attend to good
instructions, and endeavor to improve them. I afterwards found that the chapter
occurred in the regular course of family reading; but the instruction was just
as applicable as if it had been read, or even written, on purpose for me. It was
a custom in that family, as they sat at work, to converse about the passage of
scripture which had been read; or sometimes a page or two would be read from
some other book, which served to explain it. That day, a beautiful address to
young people on Filial Duty, was read, in which it was explained, that the word
used in the fifth commandment, "honor," comprehends more than any other single
word that could have been put in its place: it includes reverence, love, and
obedience. Parents should be treated with great reverence and gratitude, as the
best friends and benefactors; their opinions should be received with deference;
their feelings should be regarded with the greatest delicacy and respect; they
should never be spoken to but with modesty and submission; nor spoken of, but
with tenderness and veneration; their instructions should be gratefully received
and regarded; their commands cheerfully obeyed; their counsel sought in every
matter of importance; and every effort should be made, by a dutiful and
affectionate child, to render their last days comfortable. Perhaps the expenses
of bringing up a family have straitened the parents through life, and disabled
them from laying by any savings for the support of their old age. Perhaps the
incessant care and attentions bestowed on their children may have impaired their
strength, and brought on weakness and disease. Perhaps their privations have
laid the foundation of their children’s success in life—they denied themselves
to give education to their children, and to set them up in life; and the
children have prospered, but the parents are fallen to decay. Then what can be
more reasonable or more equitable than that the children should "requite" the
parents, and consider it a most sacred duty to provide for their comfort to the
very utmost of their ability, even at the sacrifice of many personal and family
indulgences? This is the substance of what was read to us, and which, I hope,
made a deep impression on my mind. The gentleman also mentioned, that he once
heard an aged minister say, that, having, through the course of a long life,
made observations on the dealings of Providence with the children of men, he had
rarely, if ever, met with an instance in which the three following crimes
escaped evident punishment, even in this life: murder, infidelity to the
marriage covenant, and disobedience to parents. Of this he gave some striking
instances, as also of the blessing of God eminently resting on dutiful and
affectionate children in fulfillment of the first commandment with a
promise—"Honor your father and mother that it may go well with you and that you
may enjoy long life on the earth." He told us of one wicked son, who not only
refused to give his aged father anything to support him, but even thrust him out
of his house, and dragged him by the hairs of his head. When they came to a
certain part of the grounds, the old man cried out, "Stop, son! stop! You have
no right to drag me any farther. To this point I dragged my father; and now I
see and feel that God is just!" Another affecting story that he related was
this—"In a town in the center of England, lived a family of humble
circumstances. Some of the younger children and their father died, leaving the
aged mother with two sons grown up, and able to assist her. This, however, they
refused to do, and she was obliged to apply to the parish for relief; and, for
some years, two shillings a week were allowed her by the overseers, which, with
a trifle added by some Christian friends, was all which she had for subsistence.
"During this time her youngest son died. He had lived without the fear of God,
and died under a sense of his wrath, in deep agonies, both of body and mind, and
uttering dreadful expressions. The eldest was clever in his business; he got
forward in the world, and became possessed of considerable property. But he
still refused to assist his mother, and, even while holding wealthy jobs, left
his mother to her allowance from the parish. This conduct, of course, was
noticed; he was repeatedly spoken to upon the subject; at length, he ordered her
name to be taken off the parish books, and allowed her the two shillings a week
out of his own pocket, at a time when he possessed thousands of pounds, and was
without a family. "One day some friends were assembled, and her case being
mentioned, they proposed to remonstrate with the ungrateful son. ’No,’ said an
aged minister, ’let him alone; if he dies possessed of the property he is now
worth, I shall be deceived. God will never allow such base ingratitude to
prosper.’ "In a short time afterwards the mother died; and such was her humility
and Christian spirit, that she died imploring a blessing upon her son. "Years
passed on; she was forgotten, and his behavior towards her was only remembered
by a few, who had been impressed with the vileness of his conduct. His
circumstances at length began to change; repeated losses ensued, and after some
time he became a bankrupt, and lived in abject poverty." The following
interesting anecdote I have somewhere read in ancient history. A certain city
was besieged, and at length obliged to surrender. In the city there were two
brothers, who had in some way obliged the conquering general, and in consequence
received his permission to leave the city before it was set fire to, taking with
them as much of their property as each could carry about his person.
Accordingly, the two generous youths appeared at the gates of the city, one of
them bearing their father, and the other their mother. I shall here set down
another pleasing fact. A recruiting officer was applied to by a very fine young
man, who desired to be enlisted into his company. He appeared greatly agitated,
and expressed a fear lest the bounty he required should be considered too high,
and his offer rejected. He asked ten guineas, assuring the officer that it was
no unworthy motive which compelled him to demand so large a sum, and that he
should be the most miserable of men if he was refused. The officer complied with
his request, handed him the money, and told him the company would depart on the
next day. He then requested leave of absence for one hour to perform a sacred
duty at home. This the officer granted, relying on his honor; but, observing
something mysterious in his manner, he had the curiosity to follow him at some
distance. He hastened to the town prison, knocked, and was admitted. At the door
of the prison, he presented the ten guineas to the jailer, saying, "Here is the
sum for which my father is confined; I put it into your hands, and request you
to conduct me to him immediately, that I may release him from his misery." In a
few moments the officer saw the venerable old man locked in the arms of his son,
and bedewing him with his tears. The officer was not immediately perceived,
until, deeply affected by the melting scene, he approached the old man, and
said, "Be composed; I will not deprive you of so worthy a son. Permit me to
restore him to you, that I may not regret the money which he has bestowed in so
virtuous a manner." The father and son fell on their knees at his feet; the
youth hesitated to accept the offered freedom, until constrained by the generous
officer, who accompanied them both from the prison, and took his leave with the
pleasing reflection of having contributed to the happiness of a very worthy son
and an unfortunate father.


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  CHAPTER 2: C - SECTION 2
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The Family at Home Familiar Illustrations of Various Domestic Duties by Gorham
D. Abbott, 1833

Section 2 SPECULATION AND SURETYSHIP My father had a brother, who was a painter
by trade. He was reckoned a hard-working man; but, I suppose, there must have
been some extravagance or bad management in his family, for they were always
poor. My father used to ascribe it to two particulars; and, I believe, he was
pretty near the truth. One of my uncle’s habits, which my father disapproved,
was that of paying and receiving money at a tavern. This drew him into much
needless expense, and also led him into very unprofitable society. Another
failing was this: he was much fonder of financial speculation than of steady
perseverance; and, though he was both a clever and quick workman, and would
sometimes get through a job of work to the amazement of all who witnessed it, he
would often lose as much time in vain projects as would have wrought two or
three such wonders. My father used to say to him, "Brother Tom, you build too
many castles in the air, and some day or other you will tumble down and break
your neck; small and steady gains would do far better in the long run." But
uncle was not the sort to take advice; and true enough is the saying, "Those
that will not be counseled—cannot be helped." He was continually starting some
new scheme in business, or losing time in trying to get the notice of some great
man, and always certain that the last new project would be the making of himself
and his family. Meanwhile, he was always in financial distress; sometimes quite
destitute; sometimes borrowing a few shillings to carry him on, and then
grudgingly working it off; and sometimes reduced so low as even to sell or pawn
his ladders and brushes. One time he came to my father in great haste, and
begged him just to sign a note for a payment of twenty-five dollars. My father
declined to do it, saying he had not twenty-five dollars to spare. "Spare!"
replied my uncle, "nobody wants you to spare it, or a farthing of it. I shall
have the money over and over again before the day comes. It is only just for you
to sign your name to this bit of paper!" After much pleading, he prevailed on my
father to do it. I recollect mother was out at the time; and when she came in,
and father told her what he had done, she replied, "Well, then, we must wait a
few years longer for our clock, and, perhaps, never get it; for, depend upon it,
you will have to pay every farthing of the money." At that time there was about
twenty-five dollars in the house, which had been long collecting, in order to
purchase a handsome clock, which my parents, and, indeed, the whole family,
greatly desired to possess. However, sure enough, according to mother’s words,
my father was called on to pay the money which he had promised in the note. It
was in vain for him to assure the creditor that he never received one farthing
value for it, and that his brother desired him only just to sign his name to a
bit of paper. "And, for doing so," replied the creditor, "you have only just to
pay the money! This is what comes of giving people credit that they do not
deserve. I would never have thought of trusting your brother for that sum; but I
knew you to be an honest, careful man, and, as the story goes among the
neighbors, a man of some little substance. So when I saw your name, I was
satisfied. One or other of us must be the loser; and since you have been fool
enough to put your name to your brother’s debt—it is fitter you should lose it
than I." This was a rough lesson; but, I believe, on the whole, it was
profitable. I do not think my uncle’s intentions were dishonest; he thought he
would be able to meet the bill; and although "he received the money over and
over again," he had been hesitant to part with it, and so at last, when the time
came, he had not a shilling left to pay back his debt to my father. Having paid
the debt for his brother, my father and mother wisely resolved never to speak
about it, lest it should lead to useless vexations and reproaches; but they set
about to earn and save again as fast as they could. If my uncle had done the
same, he might, perhaps, in time, have got over his difficulties, and gained a
solid house, which, as my father often told him, would be worth twenty air
castles. But, as I said before, he was not a man to learn wisdom, even by
experience. Sometimes, when my father knew of his having extra money, he would
ask him for repayment, and perhaps get a dollar or two of him at a time; but he
never in the whole got one quarter of the money. In course of time, we bought a
clock, but it was not the handsome one, on which we had at first set our minds.
Some years afterwards, my uncle came again to ask my father for a similar favor,
but to a much larger amount. "No," replied my father firmly, "a burnt child
dreads the fire. You won’t catch me again putting my hand to a bit of paper that
doesn’t belong to me. The wise man says, ’He who puts up security for another
will surely suffer, but whoever refuses to strike hands in pledge is safe!’"
"But," replied my uncle, "this is quite a different sort of a story. I want to
get the sum of two hundred dollars, which was left in the hands of trustees, to
be lent for seven years without interest to a poor tradesman, only he must get
two friends just to put their names to it. My cousin Jones is willing to be one,
and you surely can’t be so unkind as to refuse to be the other. It won’t cost
you a farthing, and will make of me and my family financially secure through
life. Think what a stock of goods I shall be able to lay up, and buy everything
at the best hand. Why, I shall save the money ten times over in the course of
seven years, and live like a gentleman besides." "Ah, brother!" said my father,
"that’s the very mischief of it. Such a loan might help one who is content to
live and labor like a poor man; but the living like a gentleman will turn it
into more harm than good." "Well, then, I will promise you not to live like a
gentleman. I will do anything you desire—if you will only just pledge your
name." "Brother, I would gladly help you, if it were in my power; but, as an
honest man, I cannot and will not do what you desire. I fear you would be just
as unable seven years hence to pay the money, as you are at present; and I am
sure I shall not have it then to spare. Perhaps I may not live to see the time;
and would I not have been unjust, to leave my poor wife and children chargeable
with such a debt, or to wrong the trustees of the pledge, if they were not able
to pay it? As the wise man says, ’Do not be a man who strikes hands in pledge or
puts up security for debts; if you lack the means to pay, your very bed will be
snatched from under you!" When my uncle had said all he could by way of
persuasion, and found my father resolute, he fell into a violent passion,
calling him cruel, unnatural, and many other hard words that I need not repeat,
and declaring that he would never again enter the house, or own him as a
brother. Away he went, and represented to a neighbor the cruelty and unkindness
of his own brother, and so wrought on his feelings, that, with more good nature
than prudence, he engaged to do for him what his own flesh and blood had
refused. Thus he obtained the money, and behaved himself with a high head
towards my father whenever he met him, as well as said many unkind things to his
hurt behind his back. My father felt it keenly, but was supported by the
consciousness of having done his duty. The money just served to stop the mouths
of a few creditors, and to give a boost for a little while, both to business and
housekeeping; but it was soon gone, and he nothing to show for it. The bondsmen
often reminded my uncle that pay-day was drawing on. Almost to the last, he
assured them that he would be able to meet it; but when the time came, not a
shilling was paid by my uncle—and the two bondsmen had to pay the money between
them! So far from the loan proving any real advantage to my uncle and his
family, my father often said he thought it proved a great calamity, as it only
fostered them in habits of extravagance and delusions of grandeur. But though my
father refused, in this instance, to grant my uncle’s request, he was always
ready to act a brother’s part by him and his family. Many a portion has been
sent them from our own table; and in times of sickness and affliction, money
that had been laid up has often been brought out for them; and through life my
father was enabled to do kindnesses for them, which would never have been in his
power, if (to use his own expression) he had consented to be pulled under water
to please a drowning brother. At last my uncle and his family went to America,
which, they say, is a fine land for repairing shattered fortunes, though some
have found it otherwise; but what became of them afterwards, I never knew.
SELF-CONCEIT A lady once took a poor motherless girl into her family as
housemaid, and was determined to take pains in instructing her, in order to make
her a good servant. Molly was a good-tempered, active, lively girl; but she had
one great fault, which defeated all the good intentions of her friends—she was
terribly self-conceited. By her own account, you would have supposed her a very
clever person, and experienced in work of all kinds; but when it came to the
trial, there was not a thing she knew how to do properly; and the worst of it
was, she would spoil twenty things in trying her own way upon them, rather than
humble herself to ask how it ought to be done. The lady who engaged her was a
truly good mistress; she knew how things ought to be done, and she never grudged
the trouble of teaching a servant; but she insisted on having things done
properly. Many a time I have heard her say, "Molly, I wish such a thing done—do
you know how to do it?" Molly was sure to answer, "I yes, ma’am, I know very
well how to do it; I have seen it done many a time." In an hour or two’s time
the thing would be found done in any way but the right way; perhaps some
valuable piece of furniture ruined through her conceit and ignorance. When told
of her fault, instead of owning her mistake, and desiring to be better taught
for the future, she would pertly reply, "that was the way she had always been
used to see it done!" though the truth was, she had never seen it done at all. I
remember once the old cook played a joke upon her, which she did not soon hear
the last of. It is a common saying among cooks, that, "If you beat a
batter-pudding too much, it is rank poison;" the plain meaning of which is, that
the more it is beaten, the better; it is impossible to beat it too much. One
day, cook was busy making wine, and asked Molly to make her a batter-pudding.
Molly readily agreed, for she was always willing to help any one, and pleased to
be employed; and, had it not been for her foolish conceit of her own abilities,
she would have been a general favorite. "But," said cook, "are you sure you know
how to do it? for mistress is very particular: don’t go and beat it too much,
lest it should turn to poison." "O no; I know very well how to do it," replied
Molly. "Mrs. Bell, with whom I lived before I came here, was quite as particular
as our mistress. I know how it must be beaten." To work she went, pleased at
having, as she thought, got a bit of knowledge slyly; and, determined not to
spoil the pudding by over-beating it, she scarcely ventured to turn the spoon at
all. When the pudding came to be served up, it was lumps of flour in some parts,
and hard-boiled egg in others. On this occasion, the lady spoke to her very
kindly, pointing out the folly and mischief of self-conceit. "Conceit of
knowledge," said she, "is the greatest enemy to knowledge, and the greatest
proof of ignorance. ’Do you see a man wise in his own conceit? there is more
hope for a fool than of him.’ The most ignorant person may be taught, if he has
humility enough to learn; but the self-conceited is likely to spend his life in
ignorance. He shuts up the very door by which knowledge enters to the soul. If
we could once see you, Molly, convinced of your own need of instruction, we
might hope that instruction would be bestowed upon you to good purpose; and the
spoiling of this pudding will be the best bit of cookery you ever performed, if
it should lead you to be less confident of your own knowledge and abilities."
The spoiled pudding was a standing joke in the kitchen against Molly; but I
could never see that either the kind and serious instructions of her master and
mistress, or the sharp rubs of her fellow-servants, succeeded in curing her of
her unhappy propensity. A very favorite saying of Molly, when remonstrated with
on any course she was pursuing, was, "It won’t hurt—I am certain there is no
danger." In this way she often met with accidents; some of a serious nature.
There was an old ladder about the premises, unfit for use, which was to be cut
up for fire-wood. The gardener had laid it aside for that purpose; but seeing
Molly set it up against the loft door, he begged her to wait a moment, while he
ran round and fetched the new ladder, assuring her that the old one was not fit
to venture on. But Molly persisted, saying, "I’m certain it will bear me." Just
as she got on the top round, the rotten rung gave way, and she fell to the
ground, dreadfully bruised, and with two broken ribs. It is a saying of the
wisest of men—and, of all kinds of folly, self-conceit is, perhaps, that to
which it most universally applies—"Though you grind a fool in a mortar, grinding
him like grain with a pestle, you will not remove his folly from him." Proverbs
27:22. So it was with poor Molly: all her experience of the mischiefs resulting
from self-conceit, could not prevail to cure her of it. This disposition was no
less injurious to her in matters of the greatest consequence, than in trifles.
On leaving this lady’s, in spite of all remonstrance, she engaged in a
situation, to the duties of which she was quite incompetent, and which exposed
her to temptations that she was not likely to resist. She was certain that she
could do it very well, and certain that she would be in no danger of having her
morals corrupted. In vain was she admonished of the weighty sayings of holy
writ: "He who trusts his own heart is a fool," and "Let him who thinks he
stands, take heed lest he fall." So Molly went to her ill-chosen place, and, as
her friends forewarned her, soon fell into sin and disgrace, misery and poverty.
Those whose kindness she had rejected did not cast her off in the time of her
distress. They kindly visited her, and endeavored to impress on her mind the
humbling, yet beneficial truths of the gospel; but, alas! self-conceit was still
the bar to their admission. She fancied herself too well informed to need
instruction, and disdained to be catechized, as she called it. Notwithstanding
her gross misconduct, she could not believe herself to be a great sinner, and in
absolute need of mercy—but still flattered herself, that she possessed something
by which to recommend herself to the favor of God. She said she had not been so
bad as many others, and she repented of what was past, and resolved to do better
in future; and on this miserable foundation, to this refuge of lies, she
ventured to trust her immortal hopes. Poor girl! she died in early life, and, as
far as appeared to those who visited her, satisfied with herself to the last,
depending on her own righteousness, and in a spirit as far as possible from his
who exclaimed, "God be merciful to me, a sinner!" O, my children, if you wish to
excel in what you attempt of worldly business, and especially if you wish to
tread a safe and happy path as it respects futurity, shun pride and
self-conceit, and cultivate a spirit of humility and self-distrust. "Before
honor is humility." "He who exalts himself shall be abased; but he who humbles
himself shall be exalted." "With the lowly is wisdom." "God resists the proud,
but gives grace to the humble." PUNCTUALITY I was once employed in a family
which was remarkable for punctuality. Everything went on as regular as
clock-work. Every person in the house had his or her regularly-appointed duties,
and allotted times for performing them. Things were not left to be done by
somebody or other, just as it might happen, and just when it might happen, if
indeed it happened at all; but time and business were regularly portioned out.
It often put me in mind of a dissected puzzle: instead of lying in a heap, a
parcel of odd-shaped bits of wood, every little bit was just fitted into its own
place, and so the whole was complete and beautiful. And, in a higher degree than
almost any other family I ever visited, in that family the work of every day was
done in its day, according as the duty of the day required. Whenever a new
person was in any way employed in the house, one of the first things was, to
teach them habits of punctuality. From among the instructions given in this
particular, addressed to myself or to others in my hearing, I have preserved the
following observations and anecdotes, some of them copied from books lent me.
"Method is the very hinge of business; and there is no method without
punctuality. Punctuality is very important, because it subserves the peace and
good temper of a family. The lack of it not only infringes on necessary duty,
but sometimes excludes necessary duty. Punctuality is important, as it gains
time. It is like packing things in a box: a good packer will get in twice as
much as a bad one. The calmness of mind which it produces is another advantage
of punctuality. A disorderly man is always in a hurry—he has no time to speak
with you, because he is going elsewhere; and when he gets there, he is too late
for his business, or he must hurry away to another before he can finish it. It
was a wise maxim of the duke of Newcastle—’I do one thing at a time.’"
Punctuality gives weight to character. "If such a man has made an
appointment—then I know he will keep it!" Punctuality, like other virtues,
propagates itself in those it has contact with. Servants and children must be
punctual, when they know that the head of the family is so. Appointments,
indeed, become debts. "I owe you punctuality, if I have made an appointment with
you. I have no right to throw away your time, if I do my own." The Rev. S.
Brewer was distinguished for punctuality. When a youth in college, he was never
known to be a minute behind time in attending the lectures of the tutors, or the
family prayers, at which the young men who boarded in private families were
expected to assemble. One morning, the students were collected; the clock struck
seven, and all rose up for prayer; but the tutor, observing that Mr. Brewer was
not present, paused awhile. Seeing him enter the room, he thus addressed him:
"Sir, the clock has struck, and we were ready to begin; but as you were absent,
we supposed the clock was too fast, and therefore waited." The clock was
actually too fast by several minutes. The celebrated reformer, Melancthon, when
he made an appointment, expected that the minute as well as the hour should be
fixed—that the day might not be run out in idle suspense. An idling, dawdling
sort of habit, which some people have, and which makes them a little too late
for every appointment, however trifling it may appear—is often the cause of
their ruin; for the habit goes along with them into everything they do; and,
moreover, the loss of time, and the plague which it causes to others, makes the
habit injurious to our friends, neighbors, and dependants, as well as to
ourselves. When a man is in a hurry at the last moment, everything is confused
and wrong. He tears his stockings, breaks his bootstrap or his shoe-strings, or
he gets some string or other in a knot—and all from being in a hurry! These
trifles take up time, just as much as weighty matters. And also—his letter is
too late for the post, and his absent friend is kept in anxiety and suspense; or
the coach has gone without him; or a dinner to which he was invited is spoiled
with waiting, or the company is disturbed by his entrance after the others are
seated. A punctual man generally has a quiet, leisurely way of going about
things. There is no hurry and bustle, but the work is done in time; so making
good the old saying, "Make haste slowly," or "Take time to be quick." It is a
good maxim, "That you may be always in time—take care always to be ready a
little before the time." King George the Third is said never to have been a
minute behind any of his appointments. Another of our kings, by his dilatory
habits, fixed on his name the disgraceful stigma, "Ethelred the Unready." The
celebrated Lord Nelson said, he owed all his success in life to being ready for
every appointment a quarter of an hour beforehand. A committee, consisting of
eight ladies, was appointed to meet at twelve o’clock. Seven of them were
punctual, but the eighth came bustling in with many apologies for being a
quarter of an hour behind time. "The time had passed away without her being
aware of it; she had no idea of its being so late," etc. A Quaker lady present
said, "Friend, I am not so clear that we should admit your apology. It were
matter of regret that you should have wasted your own quarter of an hour; but
here are seven besides yourself, whose time you have also consumed, amounting in
the whole to two hours, and seven eighths of it was not your own property." The
following judicious remarks I have copied from William Jay: "Hear the apostle:
’Let everything be done decently and in order.’ The welfare of your household
requires that you should observe method and punctuality. Everything should have
its method; your businesses, your meals, your devotional exercises, your rising,
and your rest. The times for these will vary with the condition of families; but
labor to be as punctual as circumstances will allow. Punctuality is of
importance to peace, and temper, and diligence, and economy. Confusion is
included to every evil work. Disorder also multiplies disorder; for no one
thinks of being exact with those who set aside all punctuality." Lack of
punctuality has a great and grievous influence on pious matters. By indulging a
few minutes too late in bed, secret devotion is hurried, and family prayer is
interrupted, or perhaps some member of the family is obliged to leave before it
can be attended to. Also, the first supplications of the sanctuary are lost; the
congregation and minister are disturbed; often the mind is agitated and kept in
an uncomfortable and unprofitable frame during the whole service, and all for
lack of being in time. Who, then, will venture to say that it is but a
trifle—there is no sin in being a little too late? PROCRASTINATION There are
more people in the world who fail to perform their duty through procrastination,
than through willful, direct neglect. Many people, who dare not say, "I will not
do it," satisfy themselves with admitting that the thing ought to be done, and
resolving to do it tomorrow. The mischievous consequences of such conduct are
perpetually seen in the most trifling and the most important matters. A hook or
fastening to a window is observed to be loose; a youth is asked to go directly
and get a hammer to fasten it; he thinks an hour or two hence will do just as
well; perhaps it has been in that state for months, and no harm has come of it;
it cannot matter to leave it for an hour or two longer. A high wind rises, and
the whole window, for lack of that little fastening, is carried away, dashed in
pieces, and injures some person in its fall. A poor man had received some money,
with which he intended to pay his rent. He had been exceedingly anxious to
receive it for that purpose; but having got it, he was satisfied; and, though
his wife urged him to take it that evening, observing, that it would look well
to the landlord to be able to say that they brought it the same day it was
received, he thought the next day would do just as well. In the night the
cottage was broken into, and all the money stolen, by some villains who happened
to know of his receiving it. "That kitchen chimney ought to be swept."—The
remark had been made day after day, and still the execution of it put off until
tomorrow; when at length the soot caught fire, and igniting a beam in the
chimney—the whole house was burned down. Happily no lives were lost; but one of
the family broke his leg in jumping from a window; and the loss of property was
considerable. A very worthy and estimable person, having been unkindly treated
by her nearest relatives, (an uncle and cousins,) in her distress, sought the
assistance of a family of relatives much farther removed. They exerted
themselves in her behalf, assisted in setting her up in a little way of
business, and showed her every kindness in their power. Providence smiled on her
endeavors; her shop succeeded; she not only supported herself in comfort, but
laid aside a little money and purchased her house. She was not deficient in
gratitude to her benefactors. Her distant cousins and their children received
many kindnesses from her, in return for the kindness they had shown her in time
of need; and she pleased herself with the idea of leaving the business to their
son, and dividing her little savings between the daughters; but she neglected
from day to day to make her will. She was seized with a sudden and alarming
illness; no interval of consciousness occurred in which she could execute her
often-expressed purposes. She died without a will; and the nearer cousin, from
whom she had received nothing but unkindness, came forward as her lawful next of
kin, and laid claim to the whole of her property! A child was observed to be
very languid and feverish. The parents agreed that he ought to have a dose of
medicine; but the child was averse to take it. Just then a neighbor came to
visit, and the mother was diverted at the moment, when she ought to have given
him his medicine. She consoled herself with thinking that she would give it him
the first thing in the morning, and that would make very little difference. It
was given to him, but it produced no effect; another morning came, and the child
was much worse. Then it was agreed to send for the doctor, and the servant was
told to go directly, as the doctor was in the habit of leaving home at ten
o’clock, and not returning for several hours. She received the order; but,
thinking a few minutes could not make much difference, she delayed until the
time was past: it was only a few minutes: but the doctor was as remarkable for
punctuality as the family to which he was summoned was for procrastination; he
had left home, and was gone several miles to visit his patients. Some hours
elapsed before his return; he then hastened to the bedside of the sick child;
but his efforts were too late: a fatal disease had laid hold on the frame,
which, in all probability, might have been checked by timely medical treatment.
Julius Caesar, one of the Roman emperors, was assassinated in the senate-house.
On the morning of his death, he received a letter, intended to warn him of the
conspiracy formed against him, and to suggest the means of escaping it. Being
much engaged, he gave the letter unread to his secretary, saying, "Tomorrow I
will read it!" Alas! his tomorrow, like that of thousands, was in eternity! And
oh, how often is this fatal habit allowed to act upon the concerns of the soul
and of eternity, and how awful are its consequences! The youth, when urged to
attend to the salvation of his soul, says, "It is too soon to become pious;
there is time enough yet." Perhaps he lives to old age, and, when the matter is
again urged upon him, he says, "Now it is too late." The following affecting
facts, as related by a minister of the gospel, will serve to illustrate this
melancholy subject. Calling at the house of one of his friends, the minister
found them in the deepest distress, having suddenly lost their only child. He
attempted to console the distracted parents; but the mother replied, "Ah, sir,
these consolations might assuage my grief for the loss of my child, but they
cannot blunt the stings of my conscience, which are as daggers in my heart. It
was but last week I was thinking, ’My child is now twelve years of age; his mind
is rapidly expanding; I know he thinks and feels beyond the measure of his
years, and a foolish procrastination has hitherto kept me from entering so
closely into conversation with him as to discover the real state of his mind,
and to make a vigorous effort to lead his heart to God.’ I then resolved to
seize the first opportunity to discharge a duty so weighty on the conscience of
a Christian parent; but day after day my foolish, deceitful heart said, ’I will
do it tomorrow.’ On the very day that he was taken ill, I had resolved to talk
to him that evening; and when he at first complained of his head, I was
half-pleased with the thought that this might incline him to listen more
seriously to what I should say. But oh, sir, his pain and fever increased so
rapidly that I was obliged to put him immediately to bed; and, as he seemed
inclined to doze, I was glad to leave him to rest. From that time, he was never
sufficiently awake for conversation; and now he is gone into eternity, and has
left me distracted with anxiety concerning the salvation of his precious soul!
Dilatory wretch! had it not been for my own sin, I might now have been consoling
myself with the satisfactory conviction of having discharged the duty of a
Christian parent, and enjoying the delightful assurance of meeting my child
before the throne of God and the Lamb. Oh, the cursed sin of procrastination!
Oh, the ruinous delusion which lurks in the word tomorrow!" Every word of the
distracted mother was like a dagger in the minister’s heart; for he, too, was
agitated by feelings similar to her own. "I have just returned," said he, "from
a house which to me, as well as to the family, was the house of mourning. I was
sent for yesterday to visit a sick man, and, as I thought that I was then
engaged, I promised to call and see him tomorrow. But when I went there today, I
was shocked to find that he was dead, especially as I had reason to fear for his
eternal state, and his wife said he was very anxious to see me!" The minister
returned home, bitterly reproaching himself for allowing any inferior engagement
to stand in competition with a sinner’s eternal interests, and praying, "Lord,
lay not this sin to my charge, nor let the blood of my friend’s soul rest upon
my mind, and blast the future success of those employments for which I left him
to perish in his sins! Grant me to learn hence, to abhor, through all my future
life, the thought of deferring the concerns of souls until tomorrow! Christians,
parents, ministers, learn wisdom from my folly; obey the voice that says, ’Son,
go work today in my vineyard; tomorrow is not yours. Sinners, today, if you will
hear the voice of Christ, harden not your hearts, lest he swear in his wrath
that you shall not enter into his rest.’" It is an dreadful saying, yet true,
"The way to hell is paved with good intentions." The very intention of doing
good lulls the conscience to sleep, in the neglect of doing it—and thus leads on
to condemnation for leaving it undone. In the matter of individual salvation,
this should be the motto, "Now is the accepted time, now is the day of
salvation!" In no part of the Bible is this written of tomorrow. In our
endeavors to do good to others, especially spiritual good, in which we are most
apt to be neglectful, this should be ever before our eyes—"Whatever your hand
finds to do, do it with your might; for there is no work, nor counsel, nor
wisdom, nor device, in the grave, where you go." If we defer until tomorrow what
ought to be done today, without one shadow of reason to expect a more
advantageous opportunity, or greater ability than at present—we add seriously to
the difficulty, and awfully to the uncertainty of its being ever done at all.
"When once life is past, it will be vain to think of repenting; you will then
have no more sermons, no more offers of Christ and grace. Hebrews 9:27. God will
be patient no more. And if God should take away your life tomorrow, you would
perish inexcusably for refusing his grace today! One offer of grace refused,
renders a sinner inexcusable, though God should never more offer his mercy. Then
trifle not away this moment, upon which depends eternity!" "Between the more
stated employments, and more important occurrences of human life, there usually
happens to be interposed certain intervals of time, which though they are
accustomed to be neglected as being singly, or within the compass of one day,
inconsiderable, yet, in a man’s whole life, they amount to a considerable
portion of it. Now, these uncertain parentheses, if I may so call them, or
interludes, which happen to come between the more solemn passages (whether
business or recreations) of human life, are lost by most men, for lack of
valuing them aright; and even by good men, for lack of skill to preserve them.
But as, though grains of sand and ashes be but of a despicable smallness, and
very easy and liable to be scattered and blown away, yet the skillful artificer,
by a vehement fire, brings numbers of these to afford him that noble substance,
glass; by whose help we may both see ourselves and our blemishes lively
represented, as in looking-glasses; and discern celestial objects, as with
telescopes; and with the sunbeams kindle disposed materials, as with
burning-glasses. Just so, when these little fragments or parcels of time, which,
if not carefully looked to, would be dissipated and lost, come to be managed by
a skillful Christian, and to be improved by the celestial fire of devotion, they
may be so ordered as to afford us both looking-glasses to dress our souls by,
and perspectives to discover heavenly wonders, and incentives to inflame our
hearts with charity and zeal. And since goldsmiths and jewelers are accustomed,
all the year long, carefully to save the very sweepings of their shops—I see not
why a Christian may not be as careful not to lose the fragments and lesser
intervals of a thing incomparably more precious than any metal, time; especially
when the improvement of them may not only redeem so many portions of our life,
but turn them to pious uses, and particularly to the great advantage of
devotion." DECISION OF CHARACTER "I hardly know what to do." "I have a mind to
go." "I would never have done it, if I had not been over-persuaded." All these,
and many such like sayings, are the expressions of weak minds; people who,
without intending ill, are almost sure to act ill, for lack of decision of
character. To avoid such folly and weakness, make up your mind as to what is
right, and let no persuasion induce you to swerve from it, against your better
judgment. To be infirm of purpose, is to be at the mercy of the deceitful, or at
the disposal of accident. Look around, and count the numbers who have, within
your own knowledge, failed from lack of firmness. An excellent and wise mother
gave the following excellent advice to her son, with her dying breath—"My son,
early learn how to say No!" A failure in this particular is one of the most
common faults of mankind, from the highest to the lowest classes of society, and
is alike productive of mischief and misery in all. The following sketch is from
humble life; recorded by a worthy clergyman. "How many of our misfortunes might
be prevented if we could each of us learn to say the little word No! I remember,
when I was a boy, an incident took place, which serves to show the importance of
the above little word. In our village there lived a very fine young fellow,
named Jones: he was one of those who could never say No. It happened that a
recruiting sergeant came there, to enlist soldiers, and, being pleased with the
appearance of Jones, he invited him into the public-house, where he was
drinking. Since Jones did not like to say No, he went in. Though a sober lad,
not being able to say No, he soon got tipsy. He then enlisted, and went abroad.
Not being able to say No, he fell into bad company, and got connected with them
in their crimes. The last I heard of him was, that he was in jail, under
sentence of death, for sheep-stealing; but, through the influence of his
friends, his sentence was mitigated to imprisonment. He spoke to some friends
who visited him, to the following effect: ’My ruin has been that I never had
resolution enough to say No. All my crimes might have been avoided, could I have
answered No to the first invitation to do wrong; but, not being able to say No
to a merry companion, even when he invited me to commit a crime, I thus became
his accomplice." Reader, doubt not the truth of this story, but learn from it to
take courage to say No. "In vain the world accosts my ear, And tempts my heart
anew; I cannot buy your bliss so dear, Nor part with heaven for you." MUTUAL
FORBEARANCE Among the duties which a godly man ought to discharge, few are more
important than those of the peace-maker. The peace-maker will be applied to in
many of the quarrels and misunderstandings, which occur among families and
neighbors. On these occasions, he will be not so much concerned to hear the
particulars of the quarrel, as to impress on both parties the duty of mutual
forbearance. There is little done towards settling a difference, to prove who
was most in the wrong in beginning it, or to hear all the angry things that may
be said by both parties. The great means of harmony is the promotion of a spirit
to bear and forbear; forget and forgive; and that upon the principles of the
gospel, which enjoin us to be gentle towards all men, pitiful and courteous,
kind and tender-hearted, forgiving one another, even as God, for Christ’s sake,
has forgiven us. There is a difference in the natural tastes and dispositions of
mankind. Besides this, early habits, education and connections, make a great
difference in individuals, in things which are in themselves innocent or
indifferent. Circumstances sometimes throw together, in after life, people whose
previous modes of thinking and acting have been widely different. This is a call
for the exercise of mutual forbearance. If both parties are determined to
censure, despise, or be disgusted with everything to which they have not been
accustomed—their differences will be a source of perpetual altercation and
discord. But if both parties resolve to be pleased with each other; to bear with
the imperfections of others, and to correct their own; occasionally, also,
giving a gentle and friendly hint which may benefit those with whom they
associate; then, notwithstanding little differences, people may happily unite
and harmoniously cooperate in the family, the neighborhood, and in pious
society; and, indeed, their very differences may prove useful, as peculiarly
fitting them for different departments in the general cause. MAXIMS ON WASTE I
once heard a gentleman relate, that the collectors for some benevolent society
in London, calling on a wealthy gentleman to solicit contribution, overheard him
reproving his maid-servant for throwing away a match of which only one end was
burnt. One of the collectors proposed immediately to leave the house, observing
that it was quite in vain to hope for assistance from such an old miser; but the
other was disposed to wait. The gentleman soon made his appearance, and, having
examined the case, went to his bureau, and, taking out a fifty pound note,
presented it to the astonished collectors. "Gentlemen," said he, "you appear
surprised at this donation; and probably consider it inconsistent with what you
have just now heard; but, I assure you, it has been by scrupulous attention to
economy in little things, that I have been enabled to exercise liberality in
great ones." This story brings to my mind that famous saying of poor Richard,
"Take care of the pence, and the pounds will take care of themselves." Like most
of his sayings, it contains a great deal of good sense, shrewdness, and
knowledge of human affairs. I wish a regard to the disposals of Providence was
more constantly kept up; but while every pious person will humbly and gratefully
acknowledge that "the blessing of the Lord makes rich, and adds no sorrow," we
cannot but observe that the blessing of God is generally seen to rest on those
who are diligent, thrifty, and frugal; we are quite sure it never rests on
indolence and extravagance. Every day shows the general truth of the following
maxims— "Waste not—want not." "Willful waste makes woeful want." "Waste a crumb
and you are likely to want a loaf. Squander a penny, and you are likely to lack
a pound." "Beware of small expenses and small wastes! A small leak may sink a
great ship." "The rich should not allow the waste of their property, while there
are poor in need of it, and while they know not but they or their families may
one day need it themselves." The following beautiful remarks I copied from a
sermon on frugality— "The Creator of the world is infinitely rich and infinitely
bountiful; and yet in all his provisions he allows no waste. He weighed the
dust, and measured the waters when he made the world; and calculated to the
precise amount—so much earth, so much air, so much fire, so much water, went to
make up such a world as this. The original quantity of matter is still here; and
though man can gather and scatter, move, mix, and unmix, yet he can destroy
nothing. The putrefaction of one thing is a preparation for the being and bloom
of another. Thus a tree gathers nourishment from its own fallen leaves when they
are decayed, and something gathers up the fragments, that nothing is lost. "And
when the Son of God was on earth, and went about scattering blessings; when with
a word he multiplied five barley loaves and two small fishes to feed many
thousand people, he could in the same manner have provided another meal whenever
the need of his followers required it; but, instead of that, he commanded them
to gather up the fragments, that nothing might be lost; thus teaching us to
regard frugality as a Christian virtue." The following are useful rules for
those who wish to leave something good to children’s children. 1. Buy nothing
but what you really need. Those who accustom themselves to buy things merely
because they are pretty, or curious, or are offered a great bargain, are likely
to fill their house with NEED-NOTS, and to deprive themselves of the means of
obtaining what they need. 2. In purchasing, choose such things as are durable,
rather than such as are showy; and what is in itself neat and befitting, rather
than what is just the top of the fashion. Fashions soon change, and that which
is glaringly fashionable now, will be notoriously unfashionable a little time
hence. 3. Though it may sometimes call for the exercise of self-denial, whatever
you purchase, or whatever you think you need, be resolute in retaining some cash
to meet an unforeseen, an indispensable need. For lack of this precaution, many
have been compelled to part with what they wished to preserve, in order to buy
something that they could not do without. 4. Endeavor to have different things
for different purposes, and to keep each to its proper use. Nothing is more
destructive than to make one thing do the work of two or three. 5. Never use a
better thing of its kind without being satisfied that a worse would not answer
the purpose. Many people, whenever they obtain a new thing, directly lay aside
the old one, and forget to use it, or perhaps allow it to be thrown about and
destroyed. Such are not likely to leave behind them much that is worth having.
6. If entrusted with the property of others, be as careful of it as if it were
your own. This is the likeliest way to be honestly possessed of property
yourself, and to acquire a habit of taking care of it. 7. If children are
committed to your care, bring them up in habits of knowing the value of
property, and the importance of taking care of it. Those who are careful
themselves, but allow their children to be extravagant, have little
encouragement to lay up property for them to squander. 8. See that, in all your
gains, and savings, and prospects—that you keep the fear of God before your
eyes. His blessing alone makes rich, and adds no sorrow. Wealth gotten by vanity
(that is, unjust, selfish gain) will be soon diminished. It is like putting
money into a bag with holes; but a godly man shall leave an inheritance to
children’s children. 9. Whatever you leave your children, do not neglect their
best interests. Teach them to read; provide them with a Bible; store their minds
with good principles, that so they may be prepared to be content with a little,
or faithfully to improve and safely to enjoy more; and be sure to lay up for
them a good store of prayers. The effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man
avails much; and a parent’s prayers have often been answered in rich blessings
on his offspring, long after his head has been laid in the grave. Let the chief
concern be for yourselves and them, that you may all be possessors of durable
riches and righteousness, a treasure in the heavens which fails not, where
neither moth nor rust can corrupt, nor thieves break through and steal! FEMALE
DRESS Among the many evils which judicious ladies will labor to oppose, as far
as their influence extends, I ought to mention extravagance and expensive
clothing in dress. They will set an example of neatness and modesty in apparel,
without approaching to singularity. They never adopt a ridiculous fashion, nor
are they backward in adopting what is convenient and befitting. I have often
observed that the example of ladies in this respect has a great influence on
those around them. I have seen servants imitating the dress of their ladies in
everything but the quality and texture of the materials; and even Sunday-school
children aping the bows and feathers and necklaces of their teachers. It very
often, however, requires some care and pains to bring young girls into the right
habits in this respect. In fact, I believe that I have sometimes myself received
a hint or two on the subject; at all events, I have gathered a few hints, which,
for whoever they might be originally intended, are much at the service of all to
whom they may he applicable. To many young women, the love of dress is a great
snare; it leads them into a series of mistakes from beginning to end. In the
first place, they mistake by thinking that fine clothes sets off their
appearance to advantage; whereas all people of taste acknowledge that real
beauty does not need the aid of fine clothing, and that ugliness is only
displayed and rendered more conspicuous by it. Next, they imagine that fine
clothes give them the appearance of belonging to a higher class of society, and
prove their introduction to it. No such thing. The virtuous woman is revealed in
her education, speech, and manners, which are not so easily imitated; and is
more frequently distinguished by plainness of dress than by expensive
clothing—which generally bears the stamp of vulgarity. Another mistake is, they
imagine that fine clothes will recommend them to the notice of young men, and
lead to an advantageous marriage. This is a very unlikely thing! There are many
young men who will admire such a girl as they would a peacock, and play with her
as with a doll; but no sensible, godly young man would ever think of making her
his wife! "No, no," says he; "give me a wife who does not carry her chief beauty
outside, and all her wealth on her back! I must see the ornament of a meek and
quiet spirit, which is of great price; and the treasures of understanding and
discretion, and the fear of God, which are more precious than rubies, and more
rare than diamonds!" Another mistake of dressy girls is, that they imagine that
foolish fellows, who flatter them about their beauty and fine appearance are
really sincere, and mean what they say; while the truth is, that they in heart
despise and ridicule them; or, if they feel any of the fondness they profess, it
is but a base, selfish passion, to which they will not hesitate to sacrifice
their pretty, garnished victim. Alas! by these mistakes thousands are every year
brought to ruin and disgrace! She who thoughtlessly begins with the first and
simplest of these mistakes, is in danger of proceeding to the last and grossest
mistakes! I recollect a remark which I heard many years ago, which my own
observation has never contradicted, namely, that a dressy girl generally makes
an untidy, slatternly wife and a negligent mother. I can look round me and see
it confirmed in the dirty, blowzy finery of mothers and children, and the
untidiness of the dwellings they inhabit; and in the remarks of occasional
visitors: "Is it possible that that dirty, untidy slattern is the once smart,
dressy Betsy——? I could not have believed that a few years would have made such
an alteration. And who is that neat, respectable matron at the next house,
surrounded by her little, cleanly, orderly group of children? I certainly
recognize the cheerful, modest countenance and respectable appearance that I
used so to admire in Mary——. Well, the only change in her is as natural and
pleasing, as from the chaste blossoms of spring to the ripening fruits of
autumn; but in the other, it is as contrary and as disgusting as if the
flaunting poppy should ripen to the loathsome toadstool." Many a husband, who
has been won by fine clothing, has been weaned by slatternly negligence. It was
a saying of Augustus Caesar, the Roman emperor, that rich and mirthful clothing
is either the sign of pride, or the nurse of extravagance. A profusion of fine
bows, feathers, necklaces, and earrings—is often the outward and visible sign of
inward emptiness and vanity! A minister, calling to visit a lady, was detained a
long time while she was dressing. At length she made her appearance, bedecked in
all the frippery of fashion and folly. The minister broke into tears. She
demanded the cause of his grief; when he replied, "I weep, madam, to think that
an immortal being should spend so much of that precious time which was given her
to prepare for eternity, in thus vainly adorning that body which must so soon
become a prey to worms!" A lady once asked a minister whether a person might not
be fond of fine dress and ornaments without being proud. "Madam," replied the
minister, when you see the fox’s tail peeping out of the hole—you may be sure
the fox is within!" Another lady asked the John Newton what was the best rule
for female dress and behavior? "Madam," said he, "so dress and so conduct
yourself, that people who have been in your company shall not recollect what you
had on." This will generally be the case where singularity of dress is avoided,
and where intelligence of mind and gentleness of manners are cultivated. Two
holy apostles have not considered it beneath them to describe a well-dressed
woman. Paul directs, "I also want women to dress modestly, with decency and
propriety, not with braided hair or gold or pearls or expensive clothes, but
with good deeds, appropriate for women who profess to worship God." 1 Timothy
2:9-10. Peter also exhorts, "Your beauty should not come from outward adornment,
such as braided hair and the wearing of gold jewelry and fine clothes. Instead,
it should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet
spirit, which is of great worth in God’s sight. For this is the way the holy
women of the past who put their hope in God used to make themselves beautiful."
1 Peter 3:3-5 Solomon winds up his description of a virtuous woman, and one that
is worth seeking in marriage, in these words: "Charm is deceptive, and beauty is
fleeting; but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised. Give her the reward
she has earned, and let her works bring her praise at the city gate." Proverbs
31:30-31 This is a good place to set down the following remarks on the
importance of teaching young women to pay attention to something better than
mere outside show and finery. "The importance of female education will rise in
our opinion, if we consider women as those who may become wives and mistresses
of families. In this situation, they have duties to perform which lie at the
very foundation of human life. The support or the ruin of families, depends on
their conduct. A judicious woman, who is diligent and pious, is the very soul of
a house. She gives orders for the good things of this life, and for those also
of eternity." It was a judicious resolution of a father, as well as a most
pleasing compliment to his wife, when, on being asked by a friend what he
intended to do with his girls, he replied, "I intend to apprentice them to their
mother, that they may learn the art of improving time, and be fitted to become
like her—wives, mothers, heads of families, and useful members of society."
Equally just, but bitterly painful, was the remark of the unhappy husband of a
vain, thoughtless, dressy slattern—"It is hard to say it, but if my girls are to
have a chance of growing up to be good for anything—they must be sent out of the
way of their mother’s example!" SOBRIETY AND MODERATION I once knew a girl of
excellent, steady habits, who came to live in a gentleman’s family. Nancy Cox
had fared hard at home, for there was a large family to keep upon small
earnings; but she was healthy and industrious, well behaved, and willing to
learn. In the course of two or three months, she began to grow so fat, that you
would hardly have known her; and when any of her old friends met her, they
generally accosted her with, "Well, Nancy, how hearty you look! You credit your
keeper." Nancy always replied, that she had a very comfortable place, and plenty
of everything; and her father and mother often remarked, what a great thing it
was for a healthy, growing girl to live where she could have plenty. True
enough, it is a great blessing to have plenty, and one for which we ought to be
very thankful; but there is a danger, of which many people are not aware, of
taking a little more than enough; and, as the saying is, "Enough is as good as a
feast; more is as bad as gluttony." There are two sorts of people, who are
principally in danger from this, namely, those who have not much wealth, and can
have what they please to eat—one delicacy after another is contrived to make
them eat a little more than is necessary; and those who are suddenly removed
from the hard fare of a parent’s cottage—to the plenty of a gentleman’s house.
All is new and tempting to them; they wish to taste every variety that is set
before them, and at almost every meal, they eat a little more than nature
requires, in order to gratify the palate with the taste of something new; and
health is soon injured by it. Nancy Cox had not been many months in this family
before she became less nimble in her movements; her eyes looked heavy, her
clear, ruddy complexion assumed a yellowish hue; she often complained of
headaches; and as soon as she sat down, was sure to drop asleep. Her mistress
now and then gave her a dose of medicine, and then she was better for a little
while; but at last she was quite laid up, and they had the doctor visit her. He
said it was gallbladder problem, and something about the blood clogged from
flowing to the head. I did not rightly understand his learned words, but by what
I could make out, it meant that the blood vessels were clogged up, and could not
flow freely, and that this made her so heavy and dull. But I have never
forgotten what he said when he cautioned her, as she recovered, against eating
much meat or drinking much wine. He said, "I dare say your health was much
better when you had only water to drink, and but little meat to eat. Now, if you
wish to keep well, you must have resolution to bring your diet much nearer to
what it was then. Though you can get so much more food and drink, it is no proof
that more would do you good; indeed, this illness is a proof to the contrary. It
is a sad mistake to suppose that a great quantity of food is nourishing and
strengthening. It is not what people eat, but what they digest, which
strengthens them; and if they eat a little more than they can digest, this is
all so much hoarded up towards making them ill. I can assure you that more than
half the doctor’s work consists in attempting to undo the mischief that people
have done themselves by habitually taking a little too much." I am afraid that
Nancy had not resolution enough strictly to follow the doctor’s directions. As
her appetite returned, she was eager after a little more meat, and wine, and
pastry, than was quite proper for her. She was convinced that it would help her
to get up her strength, which, however, was very long in getting up; and as long
as she was in that family, which might be five or six years, she was more or
less unwell, and obliged to take medication. At length she was married to a
poor, laboring man, and once more restored to cottage fare. She found it very
hard at first, and indeed I have heard her say, that it was years before she
could get a relish for the plain food to which in her childhood she had been
accustomed. A few months after she was married, she was very ill. Dr. Collins
attended her again, and told her that it was owing to the sudden change of diet;
but that he thought, if she once got over the change, she would have better
health than she had known while living in the midst of plenty, and feeding to
the full; and so indeed it turned out. She became a very healthy woman, and the
mother of a fine healthy family. She often looked back with regret on the years
of her self-indulgence, and she brought up her children to be content with the
homeliest fare, and to drink nothing stronger than water; and when they grew up
and went to service, it was one of her great concerns that they should not learn
to eat or drink more than was good for them. In particular, she used to caution
them against getting fond of strong beer, porter or wine, and especially
spirits, even in the smallest quantity. Some masters and mistresses, out of
false kindness, allow these things; but these things neither give strength, nor
prevent taking cold, nor indeed do any real good whatever; and too often they
form a habit which lasts through life, and proves very injurious in every
respect. I remember a poor, dirty, half-starved old woman, who, it was often
said, had seen better days, and who, if she had but a few pence to provide for
all her wants through the day, might be seen every morning coming out of the
public-house with her little jug of gin. She said she learned to take it, from
having a glass allowed her before she began each day’s work, by a very excellent
and religious lady, who would have shuddered at the thought of being the
occasion of sin to anyone. But just so, the poor creature got the wretched
habit, and though she admitted that alcohol was the cause of her poverty and
misery, she said it was impossible now to do without it. I fear she never tried
in good earnest; but oh, how important is it that young people should guard
against forming habits which may bring them into such disgraceful bondage! The
only way to keep quite free from it, is by resolutely resisting the first
temptation, from whatever quarter it may proceed. I shall now set down a few
maxims, both from the holy scriptures, and from the writings of wise and good
men, which, I hope, will impress on the minds of the young the importance of
strict sobriety and moderation; also some verses I lately met with in a
magazine, and a piece called The Drunkard’s Will, which I am sure ought to warn
young men against once entering the public-house, or indulging the love of
liquor. "He who loves pleasure shall be a poor man. He who loves wine and oil
(that is, luxurious living) shall not be rich." "Dainties are deceitful food."
"If you find honey, eat just enough— too much of it, and you will vomit."
Proverbs 25:16 "Wine is a mocker and beer a brawler; whoever is led astray by
them is not wise." Proverbs 20:1 "Who has woe? Who has sorrow? Who has strife?
Who has complaints? Who has needless bruises? Who has bloodshot eyes? Those who
linger over wine, who go to sample bowls of mixed wine. Do not gaze at wine when
it is red, when it sparkles in the cup, when it goes down smoothly! In the end
it bites like a snake and poisons like a viper!" Proverbs 23:29-35 "Take heed to
yourselves, lest your hearts be overcharged with excess and drunkenness, and
cares of this life, and so that day (the day of death and judgment) come upon
you unawares." "Let us who are of the day be sober." "Let your moderation be
known unto all men: the Lord is at hand." "He is the greatest slave who serves
none but himself. He is the most beastly idolater who makes a god of his own
belly." "The luxurious live to eat and drink, the wise and temperate eat and
drink only to live." "Always rise from table with an appetite, and you will not
be likely to sit down without one." "He who hankers after dainties, must often
feel dissatisfied." "Who dainties love—will beggars prove." A celebrated Roman
epicure consumed the principal part of his property on sumptuous delicacies. He
had still enough left to support himself in moderation and comfort, but he put
an end to his life, lest he should not have enough to furnish the costly
luxuries to which he had been accustomed. "Nature is satisfied with little,
grace with less, but lust with nothing!" "An intemperate patient makes a cruel
doctor." "The glutton digs his grave with his own teeth!" "Wine and strong drink
have drowned more than the sea, and the teeth of intemperance have slain more
than the sword." When disease is abroad in the land, it generally selects its
victims from among the intemperate and self-indulgent. Disease will be often
knocking at the door, while his old friend, intemperance, dwells within. It was
the saying of a celebrated physician, "When I see a group of people surrounding
a splendid banquet, and feasting themselves without fear, I think if the
prophet’s prayer could be granted, ’O Lord! open their eyes that they may see,’
the thoughtless creatures would then discover, under the disguise of luxurious
viands and inviting bowls—fevers, dropsies, palsies, gouts, consumptions,
death—and would flee in terror and amazement from the untasted banquet." "The
Christian, when he sits down to his meal, should ever remember that he has two
guests to entertain, the body and the soul. Let him never so overload the former
as to starve, sink and ruin the other; but whether we eat or drink, or whatever
we do—let us do all to the glory of God." The motto of the family of Doddridge
was, "Live while you live." On this the excellent and pious Dr. Doddridge wrote
the following pointed lines— "Live while you live, the epicure would say, ’And
seize the pleasures of the present day.’ ’Live while you live, the sacred
preacher cries, ’And give to God each moment as it flies.’ Lord, in my views let
both united be; I live in pleasure while I live to Thee." ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ One
Glass more. "Stop, mortal, stop! nor heedless thus Your sure destruction seal:
Within that cup there lurks a curse, Which all who drink must feel. Disease and
Death, forever near, Stand ready at the door, And eager wait to hear the cry Of
’Give me one glass more.’ Go, view that prison’s gloomy cells, Their pallid
tenants scan; Gaze, gaze upon these earthly hells, And ask how they began. Had
these a tongue, O man! your cheek The tale would crimson o’er; Had these a
tongue, to you they’d speak, And answer, ’One glass more!’ Behold that wretched
female form, An outcast from her home, Bleached in affliction’s blighting storm,
And doomed in need to roam! Behold her! Ask that prattler dear Why mother is so
poor; She’ll whisper in your startled ear, "Twas father’s ’One glass more!’"
Stop, mortal, stop! repent, return; Reflect upon your fate; The poisonous
draught indignant spurn— Spurn, spurn it, before too late! Oh! flee the
ale-house’s horrid din, Nor linger near the door, Lest you, perchance, should
sip again The treacherous ’One glass more!’" ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ The Drunkard’s Will
"I, _____, beginning to be enfeebled in body, and fearing I may soon be palsied
in mind, and having entered upon that course of intemperance from which I have
not resolution to flee, do make and publish this my last will and testament—
Having been made in the image of my Creator, capable of rational enjoyment, of
imparting happiness to others, and of promoting the glory of God, I know my
accountability. Yet such is my fondness for sensual gratification, and my utter
indisposition to resist temptation, that I give myself entirely to intemperance
and its associate vices, and make the following bequests— My property I give to
be dissipated, knowing it will soon fall into the hands of those who furnish me
with ardent spirits. My reputation, already tottering on a sandy foundation, I
give to destruction. To my beloved wife, who has cheered me thus far through
life, I give shame, poverty, sorrow, and a broken heart. To each of my children
I bequeath my example, and the inheritance of the shame of their father’s
character. I give my body to disease, misery, and early dissolution. Finally, I
give my soul, which can never die, to the disposal of that God whose commands I
have broken, and who has warned me by his Word, that no drunkard shall inherit
the kingdom of heaven." Drunkard, this is your will!


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  CHAPTER 3: D - SECTION 3
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The Family at Home Familiar Illustrations of Various Domestic Duties by Gorham
D. Abbott, 1833

Section 3 HEALTH AND SICKNESS This is a good place in which to set down a few
hints about sickness, which I have gleaned from my good mother, and other
friends. She often observed, that many people make mistakes on this subject, and
she took great pains to correct them wherever she had opportunity. In the first
place, she would say, "Do all you can to preserve health; an ounce of prevention
is worth a pound of cure. In order that you may be healthy, rise early, live
temperately, labor diligently, cultivate a contented spirit, observe
cleanliness, drink plenty of cold water, admit plenty of fresh air into your
houses." She used to tell a story of a certain great physician, who gave four
rules for the preservation of health. When he died, his books were sold: one,
which was said to contain very valuable precepts of health, but which the
bidders were not permitted to open, sold at a high price. When the purchaser got
it home, he was at first disappointed at finding that it contained nothing more
than four simple rules; but, on further consideration, he was induced to put the
rules in practice; by which means he was restored to a state of health to which
he had long been a stranger; and he often spoke of the old physician’s book as
the cheapest and most valuable purchase he ever made in his life. The rules were
these—"Keep the head cool. Keep the feet warm. Take a light supper. Rise early."
These simple rules comprehend a vast deal more than may appear at first sight. A
word or two on each will show this. 1. "Keep the head cool." To "keep the head
cool," people must avoid every kind of excess, and maintain moderation in every
pursuit, and in every pleasure. The great eater and the great drinker have
generally a burning forehead and a cloudy brain. The passionate man, and the
intemperate, are strangers to perfect health, as well as to peace of mind. Even
too hard study occasions an aching and burning head. 2. "Keep the feet warm."
The same course suggested for keeping the head cool will at the same time tend
to keep the feet properly warm, namely, moderation, activity, and calmness of
temper. An intemperate, an indolent, or an ill-tempered person, is never really
healthy; and, as it is in the power of everyone to avoid such wicked habits, and
even to resist and break them off when acquired, in that sense and to that
degree, every man is the disposer of his own health, and has to answer for
trifling with it. 3. "Take a light supper." It is a sign of ill health when
people have the strongest relish for food late in the day; and the indulgence of
that irregular appetite tends to increase the evil. Formerly it was the fashion,
though a very bad one, to eat substantial and often luxurious suppers. There was
then a common saying, "After dinner sit awhile, After supper walk a mile." In
this homely distich there is much sound wisdom. One moderately hearty meal of
food daily, is sufficient for nourishment, and conducive to health. After taking
it, a short period of comparative repose is desirable, but not the total repose
of sleep. After that, several hours of activity, and then a slight meal, such as
will not require much exercise of the digestive powers, when the whole system
ought to be resigned to complete repose. Those who eat a hearty supper generally
have disturbed, uneasy sleep, and wake at a late hour, languid and drowsy,
feeble, sullen, and irritable, with a burning forehead, cold feet, and a
disinclination to food and labor. Some laboring men, however, are obliged to
content themselves at mid-day with a slight refreshment, which they can carry
with them, and depend on returning home to their principal meal when labor is
done. In this case, the meal should be quite ready for them on their return
home; and they should not go to bed directly on eating it, but employ themselves
for an hour or two on some moderately-active pursuit, which, being of a
different nature from their daily labor, will come in as an agreeable variation;
such, for instance, as gardening, or carpentering, for the man who has labored
through the day in the loom or on the shop-board. 4. "Rise early." Nothing is
more conducive to health and excellence of every kind than early rising. All
physicians agree in this; and all people who have attained a good old age, in
whatever particulars they might differ from each other, have been distinguished
as early risers. Some people require more sleep than others; but it may be laid
down as a general rule, that there is no grown person to whom a period of sleep
longer than seven, or, at the very most, eight hours, can be either necessary or
beneficial. But a person in health may easily know how much sleep he requires,
by going to bed every night at a stated time, and uniformly rising as soon as he
awakes, however early that may be. By steadily pursuing this plan for a few
days, or at most a few weeks, a habit will be acquired of taking just the rest
that nature requires, and regularly awaking out of one sound and refreshing
sleep to new vigor and activity; and when this habit is thoroughly formed, it
would be no less disagreeable, than useless and injurious, for such a person,
having once beheld the bright morning sun, to turn on his pillow and say, "A
little more sleep, a little more slumber, a little more folding of the hands to
sleep." The earlier rest is taken, the more satisfying and beneficial it will be
found. "One hour before midnight is worth two hours afterwards." This is a
common and a true saying; but it is not to be supposed that two hours in the
morning will make up for the loss of one at night. Nothing can be farther from
the truth. The loss of night sleep is injurious, but indulgence in day slumbers
is still more so. In case of having been disturbed one night, the best way to
replace the loss is to go to bed one hour or two earlier, rather than to be
later in the morning. Attention to these particulars would do much to preserve
health. "In the historical parts of scripture," says Robinson, "we may observe
in general that diligence and early rising are inculcated as a doctrine; as,
’You shall diligently keep the commandments’—’Give diligence to make your
calling and election sure.’ They are exemplified as a practice; as, ’Awake, I
myself will awake early’—Abraham got up early in the morning—Jacob rose up
early—Moses rose early in the morning—Joshua rose early—Samuel rose early—Job
rose early in the morning—Jesus came early in the morning into the temple, and
all the people came early to hear him. All these were, probably, early risers by
habit; and it is certain most of them were. Moreover, the practice is encouraged
by express promise; as, ’I love those who love me, and those who seek me early
shall find me.’ "Besides this general view of scripture history, there is a
particular and edifying view of some remarkable mornings, of which I will just
give you a sketch to direct your meditations. "That was a morning long to be
remembered, in which the angel hastened to Lot, and led him and his family out
of Sodom. The sun rose before he entered Zoar; and when Abraham got up early,
and looked towards Sodom, he beheld, and, lo! the smoke of the country went up
as the smoke of a furnace. "It was a happy morning in the life of Isaac, when
peace and plenty were secured to him and his family by a contract, confirmed by
oath, between himself and a neighboring king, to perform which they rose early
in the morning. "It was a morning sacred to memory with Jacob and his posterity,
when, after his dream of a frame with steps opening a passage to the temple of
the King of kings, graced with heavenly officers going up and coming down, to
teach him the doctrine of Providence, he rose up early, set up a pillar, and
dedicated both the place and himself to God. Nor could time ever erase out of
his memory that other morning, when a man wrestled with him until the breaking
of day. ’Let me go,’ said one, ’for the day breaks;’ ’I will not let you go,’
replied the other, ’unless you bless me.’ "What memorable mornings were those,
in which Moses rose up early, stood before Pharaoh, and in the name of Almighty
God demanded liberty for his nation! What a night was that, in which the
Israelites passed through the sea! and what a morning followed, when Moses
stretched out his hand, and the tide rolled back with the dawning of the day,
and floated the carcasses of the Egyptians to the feet of the people of God, on
the shore! "Early every morning, for forty years, the cloud was taken up, and
the manna fell. "What a busy morning was that on which Gideon suppressed
idolatry, at the hazard of his life! What an honorable morning was that to
Daniel, when a great king visited him in the lion’s den! And, to mention no
more, that was a morning sacred to memory throughout all generations, in which
Jesus, the King of Israel, was cut off. A belief of these true histories
furnishes matter for early meditation, prayer, and praise. "If any of us have
been so unfortunate as to have acquired the idle habit of lying late in bed, let
us get rid of it: nothing is easier. A habit is but a repetition of single acts,
and bad habits are to be broken as they were formed, that is, by degrees.
Difficult habits, however, may be unraveled by application and prudence. Let a
person, accustomed to sleep until eight in the morning, rise, the first week in
April, at a quarter before eight, the second week at half-past seven, and the
fourth at seven; let him continue this method until the end of July, subtracting
one quarter of an hour from sleep, and he will accomplish the work that at first
sight appears so difficult. It is not a single stride, but a succession of short
steps, which conveys us from the foot—to the top of the mountain. Early rising
is a great gain of time; and should the learner, just now supposed, rise, all
the harvest month, at four instead of eight, he would make that month equal to
five weeks of his former indolent life. "Early rising is a habit so easily
acquired, so advantageous to health, so necessary to the dispatch of business,
and so important to devotion, that, except in cases of necessity, it cannot be
dispensed with by any prudent and diligent man. "Thanks to the goodness of God,
and the fostering hands of our kind parents, this habit is so formed in some of
us, that we would think it a cruel punishment to be confined to our beds after
the usual hour. Let us prize and preserve this profitable practice, and let us
habituate all our children to consider lying in bed after daylight, as one of
the ills of the aged and the sick, and not as an enjoyment to people in a state
of perfect health. "Early rising is beneficial to health. I am aware that ’to
ask what is wholesome, is like asking whether the wind be fair, without
specifying to what port we are bound;’ for some animals live on poisons.
However, it may safely be affirmed, that, in general, lying long and late in bed
impairs the health, generates disease, and, in the end, destroys the lives of
multitudes. It is an intemperance of the most pernicious kind, having nothing to
recommend it, nothing to set against its ten thousand mischievous consequences;
for to be asleep is to be dead for the time. This tyrannical habit attacks life
in its essential powers; it makes the blood forget its way, and creep lazily
along the veins; it relaxes the fibers; unstrings the nerves; evaporates the
animal spirits; saddens the soul; dulls the fancy; subdues and stupefies a man
to such a degree, that he, the master of the creation, has no appetite for
anything in it; loathes labor; yawns for lack of thought; trembles at the sight
of a spider, and, in the absence of that, at the creatures of his own gloomy
imagination." Great caution should be used in resorting to any advertised
medicine. The more astonishing the cures said to be effected by them, the more
strongly are they to be suspected. If these medicines sometimes succeed with
peculiar constitutions, and in very desperate cases, it is perhaps because their
inventors, who have no character to lose, administer powerful drugs in such
quantities as no regular practitioner would venture upon; and one such case will
serve to make a great talk about, and to print in hundreds of advertisements;
but then they take care never to advertise the far greater number of cases in
which the medicine has failed, or in which it has produced, instead of the
benefits promised, consequences the most injurious—such as removing a pimple
from the face, and bringing on the unhappy subject a deadly palsy. We must pay
proper attention to the sick, and not desert them, under a timid apprehension of
taking the disease. "Go steadily on, do your duty, use every proper precaution,
put your trust in God, and leave the event in his hands." A very common
prejudice among those who have the care of the sick, is that of avoiding any
reference to pious subjects. The Bible, and other good books, must be put out of
sight; no pious person must be permitted to visit the sick person, nor prayer be
offered in his hearing, lest he should be alarmed with the apprehension of death
and eternity. These cruel prejudices have kept godly people out of many a sick
chamber, where their visits might have been a real blessing; but, as one of my
friends used to say, "Does any person die the sooner for being prepared to die?
and is it not of infinitely greater importance, that we be prepared for death,
than preserved in life? Prayer calls in the aid of Him, who can do infinitely
more both for body and soul than the kindest and best earthly friend; and danger
cannot be averted by being kept out of sight. Now the sick person is one of
three characters, to either of which, the visits of a pious, prudent Christian,
the holy word of God and the throne of grace, must be seasonable. It may be he
is a pious person; one who has been accustomed to think of death; one who has
felt himself a guilty, perishing sinner, and has fled for refuge to lay hold on
the hope set before him in the gospel: he has believed on the Lamb of God, who
takes away the sin of the world; the Holy Spirit has been operating on his
heart, making him a new creature in Christ Jesus, daily more and more weaned
from the world, and fitted for heaven—now to such a one, the Bible, and prayer,
and Christian conversation, will afford a delightful solace and refreshment.
Some precious promise whispered in his ear, so far from distracting his mind,
and aggravating his disease, will be as a cordial to his heart; and, by
tranquillizing and cheering his spirit, will tend to aid the efforts of the
physician in alleviating his bodily malady. Besides, why should he be checked in
those expressions of his feelings, which may be made a great blessing to others?
Such a man is not likely to die from fear of death; and whether he lives or
dies, it will is his ardent desire, and his chief happiness, that Christ may be
magnified in his body, whether by life or by death. "But suppose the sick person
to be one who has lived in ignorance, carelessness, and neglect of piety; and
suppose that now some anxious forebodings oppress his mind. ’Death is at hand,
and I am not prepared for it! How dreadful I find it to think about death, and
judgment, and eternity, which yet I cannot avoid! Is there any hope for a wretch
like me? What must I do to be saved?’ Now, is it not a most cruel and wicked
thing to treat these solemn inquiries as the vagaries of a disordered
imagination? to keep back from the poor creature those who would lead him to the
Lord Jesus Christ, who is the only way of salvation, the only foundation for a
dying sinner’s hope; and deny him the use of the appointed means for ministering
to a disturbed mind? "Even human reason alone would suggest the propriety of
yielding to his wishes, and soothing his mind by satisfying his anxious
inquiries, not by evading or stifling them; and the part of common humanity, if
those around the sick person are strangers to his alarm, and know not how to
meet his feelings, would be to inquire after and give access to those who know
how to speak a word in season to him that is distressed. But there is a still
higher consideration. Which of the surrounding friends is willing to incur the
dreadful guilt of depriving one so dear to them of the means of his soul’s
everlasting salvation? Who can bear the thought of his perishing in his sins,
and his blood being required at their hands? "But should the person be still in
a state of hardened indifference, then the criminality of concealing from him
his real state, and allowing him to pass unconsciously into an awful eternity,
is dreadfully aggravated indeed! To amuse him with assurances of recovery, and
to keep away from him every means of awakening conviction, when it is but too
evident that there is but a step between him and death; and, unless he be
convinced of sin, and brought to Christ for salvation, but another between him
and endless misery! Surely there can be no kindness so false and so cruel as
that of concealing truths so infinitely important, however unwelcome! And no
circumstances of a sick person, except a state of unconsciousness or delirium,
can excuse the suppression of those things that make for his everlasting peace,
and which are about to be hidden from his eyes." LOOKING FOR THINGS IN THE WRONG
PLACE Dick Rogers has been more than ten years looking for a fortune; but his
countenance, his dress, and his dwelling—all say that he has not found it. Good
reason why—he has been wishing that he might find a pot of money in his garden,
or that some rich person would take a fancy to him, and make him his heir; or
that some fine lady would fall in love with him, and marry him. Poor Dick! he
has been looking for riches in the wrong place: he would have stood a much
better chance, if he had sought them in the sweat of his own brow, and the labor
of his own hands. He is likely to go hungry, who go searching for windfalls.
"The hand of the diligent makes rich," and "the sleep of the laboring man is
sweet." I could point you to many young women, who are looking for admiration in
the wrong place. They dress themselves up in finery, and go flaunting about, and
giving themselves airs of importance. But they never find what they seek. A
gentleman does not admire them; for he sees plainly enough that they are not
ladies. A poor man does not admire them; for he sees, from their very outside
appearance, that they would bring misery and ruin to a poor man’s cottage; and
every man of sense, instead of admiring, despises vanity and affectation.
Indeed, it may be said, that wherever admiration is looked for, it is in the
wrong place: the likeliest way to find it, is not to look for it at all; but to
think nothing about it, while we steadily go on doing our duty: then admiration
comes unsought, like the shadow which flees the pursuer, but follows those who
go right on their way. "Favor is deceitful, and beauty is vain; but a woman who
fears the Lord, she shall be praised: give her of the fruit of her hand, and let
her own works praise her in the gates." King Solomon complained that he found
not one virtuous woman, on whom dependence might be placed; it would have been
strange indeed if he had, while he looked in the wrong place. He sought among a
crowd of worthless beauties, not in the domestic retirement of marital felicity.
Those young people look for enjoyment in the wrong place, who seek it in a
selfish, perverse following of their own way, and throwing off parental
restraints. All who expect happiness in the indulgence of evil tempers and
wicked propensities will find themselves grievously mistaken. Even of those who
are actuated by better motives and principles, it has been well said,
"Christians are to blame: first, for seeking for that in themselves, which can
only be found in Christ, namely, righteousness and strength, stability, fullness
and perfection; secondly, for seeking that in the law, which can only be found
in the gospel—pardon, consolation, peace, and hope; and, thirdly, for seeking
that upon earth, which can only be enjoyed in heaven—a settled home, and perfect
happiness." GOOD THOUGHTS IN THE MIDST OF BUSINESS It is one of the great faults
of human nature, to suppose that attention to one duty—is an excuse for
neglecting another duty. People who have their families or their business to
attend to, are very apt to say, "I am so busy, I have no time to think about
religion." Now, sure enough, worldly business has a tendency to put good
thoughts out of the mind; and yet, if we try sincerely, we may generally find
room to think of something good, without driving out necessary attention to our
common duties. Indeed, full employment is a fine remedy against idle and
mischievous thoughts, and one evil thought hinders piety, more than ten busy
thoughts. Some good old writer says, "The grand secret to prevent bad thoughts,
is to have plenty of employment; an empty house is everybody’s property; all the
vagrants in the country will take up their quarters in it: always, therefore,
have something to do, and then you will always have something to think of." Such
were the remarks of a good man to one of his neighbors, who said she never had a
minute to look into a good book, or, indeed, to bestow a thought upon true
religion. "Besides," he observed, "when employed in that with which we have by
habit become very familiar, we may do it well, and quickly, without giving it
all our thoughts. A weaver in his loom, a carpenter on his bench, a mother with
her babe in her arms, or while sewing or knitting, often sing a song without
hindering their work, or diverting their attention from it. Now, the words of
that song might as well express sense as nonsense; had much better be the
language of heartfelt devotion, than of profanity or indecency. I knew a godly
shepherd," continued he, "who said he had always learned by heart a verse of
scripture at breakfast time, which served him to meditate upon through the day;
and so rich was the treasure of scripture thus laid up in his mind, in the
course of a long life, that the neighbors used to call him a walking Bible. I
suppose you could scarcely name a passage of scripture but he could take it up,
and go on with the connection, and that in such a way as proved that he not only
recollected the words of scripture, but relished its sweetness. The word of
Christ dwelt in him richly in all wisdom; it was to him the joy and rejoicing of
his heart, and it seasoned his conversation with the salt of heavenly wisdom,
and rendered it profitable to those who heard it. In like manner, I knew a pious
weaver, who used to have a hymn-book or a New Testament lying open on his loom,
which afforded him many a refreshing thought. A poor shoemaker, I have often
with pleasure observed hearing his children’s catechism and hymns, while sewing
away. A mother of a family always kept in her pocket ’Mason’s Select Remains,’
or some other little book of the same kind, which she could look at a minute or
two while she was feeding her babe, or lulling it to sleep. These examples show
what may be done by trying; and, at least, no one should rest satisfied in
having no time for good thoughts, who ever finds time to admit a thought of
vanity and folly. Those who sincerely try will find it much easier than they
imagined, and still more refreshing and delightful than easy, to raise a thought
to God and heavenly things, while the hands are busy for earth. Even if we are
surrounded with bustle and clamor, it is not quite impossible to raise a secret
thought in prayer, like Nehemiah, when, handing the cup to the king at the royal
banquet, and his heart overcharged with care and distress—’So I prayed to the
God of heaven.’ Or, like Zaccheus, we may climb the sycamore tree, and get a
sight of Jesus. Prayer can find its way to God above the heads of the crowd, and
none but the holy soul itself, sees or knows what is transpiring. A penitent,
believing heart is always in a fit place and frame for prayer; and a believing
prayer is sure to turn the promises of God into performances. The mind of man is
never so eagerly disposed to pray, but God is still more ready to give; and
those who know the way to the throne of grace, will often say, with Melancthon,
’Trouble and perplexity compel me to pray; and prayer drives away perplexity and
trouble.’" WHERE THERE IS A WILL, THERE IS A WAY A gentleman once had a present
from abroad of several flasks of fine Florence oil. He placed them in a cellar
to which no one had access beside himself. One day, to his great surprise, he
observed that two of the flasks were empty. The next day, he found another flask
empty, and was still more perplexed to account for it. He could not for a moment
think that any person on the premises had contrived secret means to get at the
cellar; and lest such a surmise should unjustly be awakened in his mind, he
resolved secretly to watch in the cellar. I forget by what means he kept a
light, but I am certain as to the fact, that after his remaining in the cellar
more than an hour, three rats issued from a hole in the corner, and proceeded to
the next flask. One rat stood upon his hind legs, and with his fore feet held
the flask steady. The second sprang on the shoulders of the first, by which
means he could reach the top of the flask. With his teeth he very carefully drew
out the cork, by means of a bit of cotton twisted round it; then, dipping in his
long tail, he presented it to the third rat to lick. They then changed places,
as regularly as a set of soldiers relieving guard, and continued to do so until
the flask was empty, each rat having had a fair proportion of the spoil. They
then left the cellar. I have often heard this gentleman mention this singular
fact. He always related it, if any one, in a hopeless, indolent tone, said of
anything that ought to be done, "I can’t do it. It is of no use to try." He
would say, "If you had but as much heart for your duty as the rats had for the
oil, you would neither lack time nor ability to do it. "How is it that Jem Price
always looks decent and respectable, has a good coat for Sundays, and a mite to
put in the savings’ bank every Saturday, while his next door neighbor, who takes
the same wages, and has not so large a family, goes like a beggar and a
vagabond, and finds it impossible to make both ends meet? Just because Price has
set his mind upon being decent and thrifty, and ’where there is a will, there is
a way.’ No doubt he bestirs himself when his neighbor lies idle, and denies
himself while his neighbor lives in swinish self-indulgence; but then success
and satisfaction attend his endeavors, and he finds that, under the blessing of
God, nothing is impossible to labor and patience. "How is it that Mary Jones
keeps her children so clean and decent, when every body knows that she must have
many a hard pinch to get a bit of bread, now work is scarce, and her husband has
had a very severe illness, and she herself also is sickly? If you give her an
old thing for the children, you see it, month after month, tidily patched, and
always clean. It is astonishing how she manages. Those little, dirty, ragged
children at the next door have three times the money spent on them, and yet one
should be afraid to come within three yards of them, for fear of being poisoned
with their dirt—while Mary Jones’s children are as clean as the children of a
noble. What can make the difference? Just this—Mary Jones cannot live in dirt.
She says, "the meals, if ever so little, do the children twice the good if they
have but a clean skin; and though, poor woman, she has not wherewithal to change
them, she sends them to bed early, and washes their clothes, and presses them
smooth with a rolling-pin, for lack of a fire to heat irons, and gets them
tidily mended to go to school the next day. Whatever hardships she endures, she
must and will be clean, and will see her children clean about her; and ’where
there is a will, there is a way.’ Her neighbor, with better means, has not a
will, and that is the reason she never finds out a way. "How is it that John
Richards, with his numerous young family, contrives also to keep his aged mother
in comfort, and will not allow her to be a burden on the parish, while Thomas
Smith cannot spare a shilling to help his mother, but lets her live in the
parish workhouse, and does not even allow her a trifle for tea and sugar? Why,
we must come to the old answer, ’Where there is a will, there is a way.’ John
feels grateful to his mother for her kindness to him in childhood; and he says
it would break his heart to see her lack for comforts in her old age, or have to
look to the parish for them. ’No,’ says he,—and his wife heartily joins in the
sentiment,—’if it pleases God to grant us health to work for her, she shall
never lack: it is but working an hour earlier and later, and sparing a few
things, which we, who are strong and healthy, can do very well without, and the
dear old woman is made comfortable for her last days, and many a blessing comes
upon us and ours, through her prayers and holy sayings.’ When the heart is
thoroughly set upon duty, God gives ability and opportunity for the performance.
One thing in which John had been used to indulge himself was a pipe of tobacco
and a glass of gin and water, most evenings. He never took more than one, but he
had been long used to it, and it seemed as if he could not do without it. When
twins were added to his family of little ones, he was musing how they should be
able to get along and do as they had done for his mother. They could not save in
rent, or firing, or bread, or shoe-leather. ’But,’ thought John, ’I might spare
my pipe and gin and water, which cost me the best part of two shillings a week;
it is but trying.’ He said nothing of his resolution; but, from that day, he
left it off, and has found not only that he could do without, but that he has
ever since been richer, and healthier, and happier every way. Self-denial not
only puts in a man’s power the means of doing good, and accomplishing what
seemed almost impossible, but it is its own reward in real satisfaction of mind
and independence of outward circumstances. "Can anyone tell how Sam Driver got
his learning? He was a poor lad, who had to work hard for his daily bread, and
nothing to spare for going to school; but, somehow or other, he has got more
learning than the schoolmaster himself, and a room full of books, about stars,
and air-pumps, and foreign languages; and he understands them all. Why, Sam had
set his heart on learning: there is the secret of it; and he denied himself, to
save a penny or two pence a week, to buy books; and he spent every moment of his
leisure in poring over them; and, if he met a friend who could instruct him, he
never failed to propose some questions, or lay before him some difficulty; and,
if he was baffled once, twice, or thrice, in any pursuit, he tried again and
again, until he surmounted the difficulty. It was a favorite saying of his,
’Whatever man has done, man may do.’ The further he advanced, the more easy
seemed his progress. For many years he has been enabled to instruct others by
his writings and experiments; and, while he gratefully acknowledges the goodness
of God, in giving both ability and success, he stands as a fair example, that
’where there is a will, there is a way.’ "How is it that Ned Turner and his wife
are seen, every Sunday morning, taking their whole family to the house of God,
and spending every part of the day in holy leisure, as much as if they had
servants to do their work, while Waters and his wife tell us they are obliged to
drudge hard all day long, and can’t see the inside of a church from one year’s
end to another? The thing is this: Turner and his wife know the value of the
Sabbath, and their hearts are set upon enjoying and improving it. Many
contrivances are employed through the week, to enable them on the Sabbath to lay
aside all manner of work; but their success and enjoyment prove that ’where
there is a will, there is a way.’ "May it not be added, ’Why is it that some
people are found to excuse themselves in sin and neglect of religion, by saying
they cannot change their own hearts; they cannot possess themselves with grace;
they cannot even pray to God acceptably, unless he gives them his Holy Spirit?’
All this is true; but what does it prove? Not that they are excusable in their
neglect, or that they will escape the punishment due on account of it—but that
they have no real desire after those unspeakable blessings, which they profess
themselves unable to obtain. If they really felt themselves lost and undone
without access to the pardoning mercy and gracious favor of God, through Jesus
Christ, they would give themselves no rest until they attained it. They would
use every appointed means of grace, as though all depended on their own
diligence; and they would cry mightily for that aid, without which their
endeavors must prove ineffectual. Salvation is not to be attained by a few
faint, lazy wishes—but by an agonizing effort to enter in at the straight gate;
by earnest, importunate, persevering cries at the footstool of mercy, ’Lord,
save, or I perish! I cannot let you go, unless you bless me.’" CORRECTING
MISTAKES Some people find it a very hard thing to say, "I was mistaken," and
will persist in error, rather than give up a point, or alter a practice, even
when convinced that they were wrong. This is a very foolish sort of pride. The
wisest of men are most deeply convinced of their own ignorance and liability to
err; consequently, they are the most humble and sincere. He who owns himself to
have been in an error, only proves himself wiser than he was before; but, "Do
you see a man wise in his own conceit? There is more hope of a fool than of
him." "My whole life," said a certain good man, "has been spent in discovering
my own ignorance and mistakes, and in endeavoring to correct them; and now that
I am an old man, instead of finding more reason than formerly to trust myself, I
am, every day, more and more convinced of the necessity of praying for constant
guidance, instruction, and correction from God. This is my daily prayer: ’Search
me, O God, and know my heart; try me, and know my thoughts, and see if there be
any wicked way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting.’ I hope and trust I
shall not be found mistaken at last!" CONQUEST OF EVIL TEMPERS People are born
into the world with a difference of temper; but then they are accountable for
the management of their tempers. Those who possess a gentle, even temper, should
reckon it among their mercies; they should consider it also as laying a strong
claim on them to be kind and forbearing to those around them; and, as much as in
them lies, to take away the occasions of peevishness and irritability from those
who may not, in this respect, be so highly favored as themselves. It has been
sometimes observed, that good-tempered people are apt to be forgetful; and hence
they sometimes very unintentionally give provocation to others. A very easy,
good-tempered servant girl has been heard to say, "Master was in such a passion,
only because I did not hang his coat on the right hook," or, "Mistress was so
angry, only because I did not put the bread in the right basket. They are such
bad-tempered people, it is impossible to live with them." Now, even admitting
that the master or the mistress might discover more irritation than the occasion
warranted, the good-tempered servant should be reminded, that masters and
mistresses have a right, not only to say what work shall be done, but in what
manner; and if they choose to give directions in the minutest particulars, those
directions should be obeyed. If a master says, "On this hook I wish my coat to
be hung," the servant can hardly clear herself of disobedience, who, even
thoughtlessly, hangs it on another. If she did not think, she ought to have
thought. Besides, very serious inconvenience is often occasioned by inattention
to these little things. To a thoughtless house-maid, it may seem of very little
consequence, when she has dusted a book, whether she lays it down shut or open
in the place she found it; or whether she replaces a lot of papers on the desk
in the same order as she found them, or turns them topsy-turvy. But either of
these exploits may, perhaps, give the studious master hours of disappointment
and perplexity. Besides, more irritation of temper in families arises from these
petty vexations—than from more serious and willful faults. Before, then, the
easy-tempered person reproaches him who is angry, with too great irritability,
it may be worth considering whether part of the sin does not lie at the door of
him who thoughtlessly gives the provocation. Everyone has something to do in the
management of his temper; and those who are themselves most highly favored,
should consider it part of their task to remove occasions of irritation out of
the way of others. But some people are conscious of having a naturally bad
temper. They are peevish, or passionate, or sullen, or resentful. The person who
is the subject of these dispositions must be aware of it. What, then, is his
duty? I will just set down a few hints of advice, given by a friend to one who
was very near and dear to me, and who found them very beneficial. "If you are
the subject of ill temper, in the first place, never justify it by saying, ’It
is my natural disposition, and I cannot help it;’ or, ’It was enough to provoke
anybody. Nobody can blame me for being so angry;’ or, ’I don’t harbor malice;
but I can never forget the offence.’ All these are but false excuses for a
cherished evil. "In the next place, constantly resist the risings of an evil
temper; turn away from the occasions of it; and check its first emotions within.
It is much easier to refrain from uttering the first angry word, than to stop
short at the second or the third. ’Starting a quarrel is like breaching a dam;
so drop the matter before a dispute breaks out.’ "But be careful to resist on
Christian principles. To give way to evil tempers and passions, is not only
foolish, and disgraceful, and injurious; it is also sinful. Too many people who
would look upon theft, or drunkenness, as a sin against God, forget that ill
temper and unkindness are equally so; and hence they neglect to control their
tempers. But he who views evil tempers in their proper light, will say, before
he ventures to indulge them, ’How can I do this great wickedness, and sin
against my God?’ "The Christian has a never-failing rule for the government of
his temper, in that prescription, ’Whatever you would that men should do unto
you, do you even so unto them.’ Here mark the difference between the world’s
maxims and Christ’s maxims. The world says, ’Do to others as they do to you;’
Christ says, ’So in everything, do to others what you would have them do to
you.’ If we never say nor do to others worse than we would wish them to say or
do to us—we are not likely to say or do much amiss. "Cultivate a spirit of
Christian humility. This is a fine cure for evil tempers. Pride is always the
companion, generally the origin, of petulance and passion: ’Pride only breeds
quarrels.’ "To think that anything should stand in my way! that anyone should
presume to oppose me!" Such is the haughty feeling of the angry man; but where
Christian humility prevails, the feeling is, "What an insignificant, unworthy
creature I am! and yet from how many deserved miseries am I spared! how many
undeserved mercies am I permitted to enjoy! Surely, I have enough to keep me
contented and easy, and to reconcile me to any little inconveniences I may meet
with." "Look to the example of Christ, who endured the contradiction of sinners
against himself, Hebrews 12:3; who, when he was reviled, reviled not again, 1
Peter 2:23; who forbore to resent injuries, Luke 9:53-56; who pitied his
persecutors, Luke 19:41; prayed for his murderers, Luke 23:34; and has left us
an example that we should follow in his steps, 1 Peter 2:21. "Seek the
influences of the Holy Spirit. The indulgence of clamor, wrath, envy, and evil
speaking—grieves the Spirit of God, and drives him away. But if the Holy
Spirit’s aid is humbly and constantly sought, he will dwell in the soul, and
subdue those tempers and feelings which are offensive in his sight." The
influence of Christian principles is not more strikingly seen in any particular,
than in the conquest of sinful tempers. I remember hearing some remarks made
about several people who, nearly at the same time, took up a profession of
religion. Some one present observed, "What a striking change appears in Martha!
she who used to be such a flaunting, dressy girl, has had her hair cut close,
and will not even wear a bow in her bonnet." "Well, well," said a mother
present, "I hope the change is not all outside." "And Susan, she who was always
gadding about and taking her pleasure on a Sunday, now attends three or four
public services every Sunday, and several more during the week." "Well, I wish
it may prove abiding; far be it from me to say it will not; but, for my own
part, I have much greater confidence in the far less glaring profession of
Betsy, from the testimony of her mother, that, since she has attended to
religion, she strives to conquer her temper, which was a source of continual
uneasiness in the family." Many years have passed since these remarks were made;
and I have seen Martha and Susan return to their finery, vanity and folly; but
Betsy has gone steadily on, exhibiting the growing triumphs of divine grace over
a naturally violent and stubborn temper. I remember hearing a story of Socrates,
who was one of the greatest philosophers among the heathens, and who was
celebrated for mildness, patience, and evenness of temper. Few men had greater
trials than he, both from the perverseness of his wife, and the ingratitude of
his country; yet he was never seen with a cloud on his brow. A certain
physiognomist (or one who professes to judge of a person’s natural temper and
disposition by the features of his countenance) was requested to give his
opinion of the character of Socrates. Having examined the lines of his
countenance, he hesitated in giving an opinion, "For," said he, "your
established character gives the lie to my science." He was urged to speak his
mind freely, and declared that the countenance of Socrates indicated much
natural peevishness, irritability, and stubbornness. The friends of the
philosopher reproached the physiognomist with ignorance and mistake; but
Socrates himself declared that his native temper fully corresponded with the
description given, and that it was only by dint of severe discipline he had
gained such an ascendancy over it, and was enabled to maintain such a degree of
mildness and forbearance; a proof that something may be done with the worst of
tempers by proper management. If a mere heathen could do this, what may not be
expected from those who profess to be influenced and animated by the precepts,
principles and motives of Christianity? Both the good-tempered and the
ill-tempered may find their advantage in committing to memory the following
precepts of holy writ— "The discretion of a man defers his anger, and it is his
glory to pass by a transgression." "He who is soon angry deals foolishly." "He
who is slow to wrath is of great understanding; but he who is of a hasty spirit
exalts folly." "A soft answer turns away wrath; but grievous words stir up
anger." "He who has no rule over his own spirit, is like a city broken down, and
without walls." "He who is slow to anger is better than the mighty; and he who
rules his spirit, than he who takes a city." "Blessed are the meek, for they
shall inherit the earth." "Let the same mind be in you that was also in Christ
Jesus." "Those who are strong ought to bear the infirmities of the weak, and not
to please themselves. Let everyone please his neighbor for his good to
edification." "Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe
yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. Bear
with each other and forgive whatever grievances you may have against one
another. Forgive as the Lord forgave you. And over all these virtues put on
love, which binds them all together in perfect unity. Let the peace of Christ
rule in your hearts, since as members of one body you were called to peace. And
be thankful." Colossians 3:12-15 ILL-GOTTEN GOODS "Ill-gotten goods never
prosper," is a saying that has stood the test of ages. "A knave may get more
than an honest man for a day, but the honest man gets most by the year."
"Dishonest money dwindles away, but he who gathers money little by little makes
it grow." "He who increases his wealth by exorbitant interest amasses it for
another, who will be kind to the poor." "Woe to him who builds his palace by
unrighteousness, his upper rooms by injustice, making his countrymen work for
nothing, not paying them for their labor." Many, many times have these awful
sayings been verified. Ah! there was poor old Farmer Hunter—I say poor, and so
he was; though he was the richest man for miles round, he was far more an object
of pity than of envy. It was he who used to gripe and grind the poor; who dealt
harshly with many an honest little farmer, and brought him to ruin. There was
not a mean trick of which he would not be guilty, to keep down the price of
labor, or to keep up the price of corn, to overreach in buying and selling, in
weight and in measure; and how did it succeed? Why, he got together a great
property; pretty nearly the whole parish fell into his hands. He had more sheep
and cattle than any farmer for forty miles round, besides thousands and
thousands of money in the bank; but, poor old man, he had no enjoyment of his
riches. He begrudged himself everything he ate or wore, and was always afraid
somebody was coming to dispute his right, or take away his money, and that he
should die in the workhouse. He had only one son, who was an honest man enough,
and much respected in the neighborhood, but he died in early life, and left two
little lads who were brought up as gentlemen, to inherit all their old
grandfather’s property. They came into it young, and contrived to spend it much
faster than the old gentleman gathered it; for, before either of them attained
the age of forty—houses, and lands, and money, were all gone! And they were far
worse off than an honest day-laborer. It seemed most astonishing where it could
all have flown; and though it was often said with very improper levity, it was
perhaps said with too much truth, that "Satan helped to get the money—and helped
to spend it too." Ah! those who heap together unjust gains, don’t consider how
much they put themselves and their children under the snare of the devil, to be
led captive by him at his will. Old Madam West, in the next village to ours,
lived upon her property, much respected both by rich and poor. She had five
nephews and nieces, whom she had partly brought up, and among whom the property
of her late husband was to be divided at her death. And it was her full
intention to do the same with what was at her own disposal. The young people
were very kind and affectionate among themselves; and not one of them, I
believe, had a thought about being a favorite more than the rest, or a wish to
gain anything at the expense of the others, until one of the young men married a
crafty, designing woman, who left no artifice untried to work into the old
lady’s favor. By her artful tricks, she at last won upon her to make a will,
leaving to that branch of the family considerably more than the rest; indeed,
all that was in her power to will away, consisting chiefly of a large quantity
of valuable household furniture and plate, wearing apparel, and ready money. The
other branches of the family had no idea of the selfish trick that had been
played upon them. But shortly after, this crafty woman returned home, (for she
lived in a town some miles distant,) Madam West had the rest of her nephews and
nieces to dinner with her, and going to her bureau, she fetched out the said
will, and threw it in the fire. "There," said she, "now my mind will be at rest,
and the property be share and share alike among you all, as your poor dear uncle
intended, and as I always intended myself; but somehow that artful woman came
round me, and persuaded me to do a wrong thing before I was aware." After a very
few months had elapsed, the old lady died rather suddenly, and then the full
artifice came to light. Another will was produced, to the same purpose as that
she had destroyed; for, suspecting the possibility that, when left to herself,
she might repent and revoke so unjust a deed, her signature had been obtained
twice, under the pretense of its being only one deed, while in fact it was two,
one of which was left in her hands, to amuse her with the idea that the property
was still in her own disposal; but the other of which was carefully concealed by
the designing party, and in due time brought forward to establish their
unrighteous claims. The rest of the family were indignant at the fraud by which
they had been so shamefully injured, and grieved at the interruption of harmony
in a family that had hitherto been united. They, however, resolved rather to
bear injury than to engage in contention. But William and his wife had little
reason to congratulate themselves on their unjust gains. Their own feelings were
best known to themselves; but they had lost the countenance and assistance of
the rest of the family, all of whom were more or less able to help them. The
handsome old furniture was quite unsuitable to their little cottage, indeed,
crowded it up as mere useless lumber. Confidence at home was also lost; for,
though William, through selfish motives, had been induced to concur in his
wife’s act and deed, he naturally concluded that she who had acted so
treacherously by others, was not very likely to he faithful to him; and from
that time, though they lived together many years, it may be fairly said, they
never had another happy hour together, nor had they any enjoyment of their
ill-gotten goods. During their life, the money was hoarded, and the plate hid,
as that which they were ashamed to use or to look upon; and, after their death,
old Madam West’s rich clothes and thick blankets were found consumed by moths,
without having been worn, used, or even unpacked. The children, who came into
possession of the property, soon squandered the money, pawned the plate, parted
with the furniture, one thing after another, and came into the depth of poverty.
Of all the old lady’s furniture, the little that remained in the family was that
which the injured branches were enabled to buy, out of charity to the unjust
possessors, in their times of distress. It is a dreadful thing to have riches
corrupted, and garments moth-eaten, as by the secret curse of God on that which
is unjustly gained.


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  CHAPTER 4: E - SECTION 4
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The Family at Home Familiar Illustrations of Various Domestic Duties by Gorham
D. Abbott, 1833

Section 4 CHANGING RESIDENCES My eldest brother, a steady, industrious young
man, had been married three or four years, and had got things a little
comfortable about him, when he was strongly tempted to move into a house, that
had stood some time empty in a neighboring town, and which was offered him, as
he thought, on very advantageous terms. He had pretty much set his mind upon it,
when he came to consult father and mother on the subject. They scarcely knew
what to say, lest they should advise him against his real interest. For their
parts, they did not much like the notion of moving; but then they considered
that they were elderly, and, as it were, rooted in the soil, and had not the
spirit to try new openings and new enterprises which young people might try, and
succeed very well. At last they advised him to consult with a friend, who was
very well known as a gentleman of great wisdom and experience. To this proposal
he readily agreed. The gentleman asked my brother what reason he had for wishing
to leave his present abode. Was he likely to be turned out; or was it out of
repair, or unhealthy, or inconvenient?—No; the place was in very decent repair,
and suited the family very well; and as he had always paid his rent, he had no
reason to think his landlord would turn him out. "Then," said he, "if you ask my
advice, stay where you are. There must be at least three good reasons for moving
to weigh against one for staying." But the house he proposed taking was a
larger, smarter-looking house, and no higher in the rent. "Then you must add to
the rent the expense of moving your family and goods; here and there an odd bit
of repair which you will find necessary; the wear and tear of furniture in
taking down and putting up again; the chance of some things being too large and
others too small for the places where they are to stand; and the time you will
be put to inconvenience before you will have got your garden to grow, and your
family settled in your new abode." "Very true, sir; I hardly know what to do;
but they say there is a great chance of getting on in business there: the
landlord has promised to get me customers." "Have you not got good employment
here?" "Pretty fair, sir; we make a pretty good shift to live, and lay aside a
small sum." "Then would it not be very unwise to give up a present certainty,
though moderate, for the sake of a distant uncertainty, which may chance to be
better, as you say, but which may chance to be good for nothing at all? It is
for the interest of the man who has the house to dispose of to represent
everything in the best light he can; but you ought to allow a considerable
set-off from his statements. He may do what he can to serve you, and that may be
little or much; or he may forget his promise, and leave you to take care of
yourself. At any rate, you will have much up-hill work before you can establish
a good employment, like that you leave. Remember the old saying, ’A bird in the
hand is worth two in the bush;’ and those in Poor Richard’s famous Almanac, "I
never saw an oft-removed tree, Nor yet an oft-removed family, That throve so
well as those that settled be." And ’Three moves are as bad as a fire.’ There is
another thing which ought not to be overlooked. How will the relocation affect
your best interests? Your present abode is very near the house of God, which is
no small convenience to the mother of a young family; you are well known to the
minister, and kindly cared for by him; your pious parents reside here, and might
often warn you of any evil or danger which you did not suspect; you have steady
Christian friends here, and are engaged with them in endeavoring to do good.
Now, I don’t say that there are not good people in another place, or that you
would not do good and get good there; but relocating into a new connection is
too often the occasion of breaking off some profitable friendship or some
beneficial habit, which might not be readily replaced in a new situation. Let
all these things be well weighed in your own mind, and sincerely prayed over
before you come to a decision; for I hope you know the value of that precept,
’In all your ways acknowledge Him, and he shall direct your paths.’" My brother
was wise enough to listen to this wholesome advice. He soon made up his mind to
remain where he was; and he never had reason to repent it. PROVIDENCE Some
people sadly forget that they are constantly dependent on Providence. If things
prosper with them, they take all the credit to their own skill and diligence—or
else they stupidly ascribe it to good luck. Others speak of Providence with a
trifling levity, very unfitting the subject. In the most thoughtless manner such
people will say, "Please God, I’ll do so and so," or "God bless you," and other
similar expressions, which never ought to be uttered but with seriousness and
reverence. Others, again, presumptuously talk of putting their trust in
Providence, while they neglect to use the means which Providence has appointed.
They involve themselves in difficulties by their extravagance or imprudence, and
trust to Providence to get them out; or they neglect to make provision for a
time of need, in the hope that Providence will send them a supply. Such conduct
is not trusting, but tempting Providence; and such hopes, sooner or later, make
ashamed. The following maxims on Providence are well worth committing to memory.
"The lot is cast into the lap, but the whole disposal thereof is of the Lord."
"Commit to the Lord whatever you do, and your plans will succeed." "In all your
ways acknowledge Him, and He will direct your paths." "Nothing happens in the
world—without God’s providence; without his commission nothing stirs; without
his blessing nothing prospers." This saying, properly understood, believed, and
acted on, would tend to keep our minds quiet under the many things that occur to
ruffle them, and would encourage a habit of constant prayer, since nothing can
hurt him who has God for his friend! Likewise, nothing can, finally, be a
blessing to him who has God for his enemy. "The blessing of God, it makes rich,
and he adds no sorrow with it." Success is God’s blessing on a good cause. God’s
word and his providences mutually expound each other. "Providences are sometimes
dark texts, which lack an expositor." Then comes scripture to explain; "As many
as I love I rebuke and chasten." "All things work together for good to those who
love God." "God’s providences fulfill his promises." Though they sometimes seem
to cross, in reality they are in perfect harmony. Jacob said in haste, "All
these things are against me!" But a few days proved that all these things were
working together for his good—to restore to him his long-lost son, to provide
for the welfare of himself and his family, and to bring about the fulfillment of
God’s promises concerning his posterity. "Count every day, as well as you can—as
the providences of God towards you on that day." This will excite holy wonder
and gratitude, deep humility, holy circumspection, and cheerful confidence.
"Lord, when I count your mercies o’er, They strike me with surprise! Not all the
sands that spread the shore To equal number rise." "He who carefully considers
the providence of God shall never lack a providence to consider and admire."
"Who is wise? He will realize these things. Who is discerning? He will
understand them. The ways of the Lord are right; the righteous walk in them, but
the rebellious stumble in them." Hosea 14:9 PEACE AND FORGIVENESS I have often
tried to reckon in how many ways a good man may be a blessing to the
neighborhood in which he dwells; and I am continually adding to the list. My
mind, at such times, is sure to revert to some of my early and venerated
friends, whose whole character exemplified that saying of the wise man, "The
fruit of the righteous is a tree of life." One particular in which they were
very useful, was in promoting a spirit of peace and forgiveness among the
neighbors, who were too apt to indulge a litigious or a malicious spirit.
"Blessed are the peace-makers, for they shall be called the children of God;"
and truly enviable is that person whose endeavors, under the divine blessing,
prove the means of banishing a spirit of contention and discord, and promoting
that harmony and peace by which earth may be made in some degree to resemble
heaven. Let me set down a few rules for living in peace. "Mind your own
business." Half the quarrels among neighbors arise from idle curiosity,
impertinent meddling, and foolish talking about the affairs of others. "Keep
your tongue from evil." If you cannot speak well of a neighbor, speak no evil.
Never be afraid of the tongue growing rusty for lack of use! Give it no work but
what is really profitable: keep it constantly under the direction of the law of
wisdom, and the law of kindness; and they must be quarrelsome people indeed that
will quarrel with you. If a spark from their ill temper should fall, it will
soon go out for lack of fuel. It is the second blow, which makes the fray. A
peaceful man is not likely to strike the first blow: let him resolve not to
strike the second, and the matter will soon end. "My dear brothers, take note of
this: Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become
angry." James 1:19. "Do not contend for every trifle, whether it be matter of
right or opinion." There is great dignity and magnanimity in yielding a just
right, rather than indulging contention. And as to matters of opinion, nothing
can be more foolish than to wish other people to see with our eyes, or to desire
a law that all the clocks in the parish should strike at the same moment with
ours. If we think that others are wrong, we may with meekness instruct them. If
called upon to defend our principles or our practice, our contest should be for
truth, not for victory—and truth is best sought in the spirit of peace. "If
others neglect their duty to you, be sure that you perform yours to them." The
rule is, "Do to them (not as they do to you, but) as you would desire them to do
to you." To return railing for railing, is to return sin for sin. "If you have
an enemy, make him see and feel that you love him." Love in return for hatred,
and good for evil—penetrates like oil in the bones; it subdues without striking
a blow. "Beg of God for universal charity." Whenever you pray for yourself, pray
for all mankind; especially remembering those who have done you evil, or
attempted to do it. Pray for grace to forgive them from your heart, and beg of
God for Christ’s sake to forgive them too. Remember Him who prayed for his cruel
murderers, "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do." "Be humble."
Have no lofty claims, no high conceits. Think how insignificant, undeserving and
guilty you are; then you will be slow to perceive or take offence, prompt in
forgiving and forgetting, and incapable of revenge. When any injure you, think,
"If I did not deserve this particular injury at the hand of my neighbor, I
deserve far worse at the hand of God." Forget the faults of others, and remember
your own. Forgive anybody rather than yourself. "By faith wait for the
providence of God." Be not hasty in vindicating yourself, but commit your cause
to Him who judges righteously; and in due time he will bring forth your
righteousness as the light, and your judgment as the noonday. "Do not recompense
evil; but wait on the Lord, and he shall save you." Our remembering an injury
often does us more harm than our receiving it. "God permits a Christian to be
wronged that he may exercise his patience. He commands him to forgive the wrong
that he may exercise his charity." He who overcomes evil with good, overcomes
three at once, namely, the devil, his adversary, and himself; and the
self-conqueror is the greatest of all conquerors. By taking revenge—a man may be
even with his enemy; but by rendering good for evil—he is superior. "I will be
even with my bitterest foe," Revenge exclaims, and then returns the blow. "I’ll
be superior," should the Christian say, "And kind forgiveness readily display."
Cranmer was so remarkable for returning good for evil, that it was commonly
said, "Do him an ill turn, and you make him your friend forever." I know a
gentleman who had a fine garden, in which he took great delight. It was
surrounded by the cottages of his tenants and laborers, to whom he justly looked
as to the protectors of his property, and felt secure, inasmuch as no person
could approach his premises but through theirs. He had for some days watched the
progress of a fine bed of tulips. "Tomorrow," said he, "they will be in full
perfection;" and he invited a company of friends to witness the display of their
beauties. In the morning he hastened to the spot; but, to his utter
astonishment, the whole bed was a scene of shriveled desolation. Some
unaccountable influence had withered every stem, and each flower lay prostrate
and fading on the ground. A short time afterwards, a bed of ranunculus shared
the same fate; and in succession several other choice and favorite productions.
At length the gentleman became persuaded that the destruction did not proceed
from any natural cause, such as blight or lightning, but that it must have been
occasioned by the intentional mischief of some treacherous and malignant
individual, who had access to the grounds. He resolved, therefore, to watch, and
engaged a friend to accompany him for that purpose. After remaining in their
station some time, they saw a person come out of one of the cottages, and apply
some destructive preparation to the roots of such flowers as were advancing to
blossom. The gentleman at once recognized him as a workman whom, a few weeks
before, he had had occasion to reprove, and who thus malignantly gratified his
resentment. His friend strongly urged that the offender should be prosecuted,
and offered to bear witness against him. But the proprietor replied, "No; I am
much obliged by your kindness in remaining with me; I have ascertained the
author of the mischief, and am satisfied; I must use another method of dealing
with him." In the morning, the gentleman ordered his servant to purchase a fine
joint of meat, and carry it to the cottage of this evil man, desiring he would
enjoy it with his family. This treatment, so contrary to his deserts and
expectations, proved the means of effectually humbling and softening the
stubborn and malignant heart. The offender presented himself before his injured
master, freely confessed his guilt, implored forgiveness, and proved, from that
day forward, a most faithful, diligent, and devoted servant. "Do not take
revenge, my friends, but leave room for God’s wrath, for it is written: "It is
mine to avenge; I will repay," says the Lord. On the contrary: If your enemy is
hungry, feed him; if he is thirsty, give him something to drink. In doing this,
you will heap burning coals on his head. Do not be overcome by evil, but
overcome evil with good." Romans 12:19-21 Among the lot of furniture which
William West, who was mentioned in the 21st chapter, inherited from his old
aunt, was an easy chair: it had been good in its day, but was falling to pieces,
and stood about as mere lumber. This was many years after the old lady’s death,
and the rest of the family had forgiven William, though, perhaps, he never
forgave himself. One of his nieces happened to be in need of such an article,
and offered to purchase it of him. He readily consented, on condition of
borrowing the chair in case he should be ill. The full value was given for the
chair, and twice that sum expended on repairing and new covering it. When this
was done, it presented a very respectable appearance. After some years, the old
gentleman fell ill. His niece, unsolicited, returned the easy chair to him, and
did whatever else could contribute to his comfort. He expressed much gratitude
for her kindness, and, what to her was far more pleasing, expressed anxious
concern, where he had formerly displayed careless indifference. He died,
praying, "God be merciful to me a sinner!" When the funeral was over, the chair
was of course claimed by its rightful owner, but unjustly withheld by the
children, whose mother had set them an example of loving unjust gain. Such
ingratitude and dishonesty was very provoking to the injured parties, who, for a
moment, indulged a thought of enforcing the law, for the restitution of their
property. But, on consulting their father, his more judicious counsel prevented
such a step. He said, "You have nothing to expect from them: as selfish, worldly
people, they have acted in character. But you must act in character as
Christians: much is expected from you, and much is due to your profession and
your principles. If you submit in silence to injury, you will lodge in the bosom
of the aggressors a reproof keener than the most angry invectives, or the most
expensive lawsuit. Suppose that, instead of resenting their injustice in
withholding the chair, you were to give them the best cover, which you tell me
you still have in your possession." This proved to be almost the last counsel of
a venerated parent; for, though then in health, he died a few days afterwards.
The advice was followed by his children; the chair-cover was packed up, and sent
without remark. No expression of gratitude was returned at the time; perhaps
shame suppressed it. In a short time, the easy chair, like the rest of the
furniture, went to a broker’s for a few shillings; but years afterwards, the
parties, from whom it was unjustly wrested, had the satisfaction of knowing that
their conduct had been the means of impressing this conviction on the minds of
this selfish family: "There must be something in their piety, because it enables
them to return good for evil." We will give one more example, which illustrates
this subject. When the indefatigable traveler, Bruce, was in Abyssinia, one of
the governors, according to the custom of the country, sent him twelve horses,
saddled and bridled, desiring him to fix on one for his own use. The groom urged
Bruce to choose one of them, assuring him it was a most excellent animal, and
very quiet and safe to ride. It proved that the horse was extremely wicked, of
which the man was well aware, and apparently had selected him with a malicious
intention. The traveler, however, was well skilled in horsemanship. After a
severe contest, he successfully curbed the unruly animal, completely exhausted
him, and descended unhurt. The governor expressed the greatest surprise and
concern at the transaction, and most solemnly protested his entire innocence of
any design in it, adding, that the groom was already in irons, and before many
hours passed would be put to death. "Sir," said Bruce, "as this man has
attempted to endanger my life, according to the laws of the country, it is I
that should name his punishment." "It is very true," replied the governor; "take
him and cut him in a thousand pieces, if you please, and give his body to the
birds." "Are you really sincere in what you say?" asked Bruce; "and will you
have no after excuses?" He swore solemnly that he would not. "Then," said Bruce,
"I am a Christian; the way my religion teaches me to punish my enemies, is, by
doing good for evil; and, therefore, I keep you to the oath you have sworn. I
desire you to set this man at liberty, and put him in the place he held before;
for he has not been undutiful to you." KINDNESS AMONG NEIGHBORS It is a pleasant
thing to have the reputation of being a good neighbor. Who is it that deserves
it? Not the idle gossip, who, for lack of useful employment at home, goes to
spend an hour in one neighbor’s house, and an hour in another’s, assisting the
idle in squandering the time they already despise, and robbing the industrious
of a precious jewel, of which they (the industrious, not the visitor) know the
value. Such neighbors have often extorted from those on whom they bestow their
senseless visits, the pathetic exclamation, "Taxes press heavily enough; but the
hardest tax of all is that which the forms of society authorize the idle to levy
on the well-employed, by interrupting their engagements and defeating their
purposes." Well has the wise man said, "Withdraw your foot from your neighbor’s
house, lest he be weary of you, and hate you," Proverbs 25:17. Still less is the
character of a good neighbor due to those who ingratiate themselves into
families, and become possessed of their secrets, or draw from them remarks on
others, and then go elsewhere and make mischief of what they have heard. Those
are not good neighbors who lead each other into pleasures and expenses which are
unprofitable in themselves, or which the circumstances of the parties do not
justify. There are many families living in frugal comfort, to whom the expense
of a dinner or tea-party would be a serious inconvenience; yet such
inconvenience is frequently entailed by thoughtless, though perhaps well-meaning
neighbors, who press them to accept of entertainments, which seem to lay them
under a sort of obligation to invite in return. A good neighbor is, first,
harmless and peaceable. He will not intentionally annoy or injure another. No
littered articles, nor any unseasonable noises, are permitted on his premises,
to endanger the health or disturb the repose of the neighborhood. The children
of such a family are not permitted to throw stones into a neighbor’s garden, to
hurt his cat, or to bother his poultry. These, and numerous other feats,
performed by crude and ill-trained children, for the annoyance of the
neighborhood, are never tolerated in the family of the good neighbor. Should any
inconvenience have been inadvertently occasioned by him or his children, it is
no sooner mentioned than cheerfully removed or repaired. The good neighbor is
kind and accommodating. It gives him pleasure to promote the comfort and welfare
of those around him. If people are of the same trade, no base jealousies are
indulged, no petty tricks practiced against them; but the proper feeling is
cherished—"I wish to do well for myself, and I wish well to my neighbor; the
world is wide enough for us both." Among neighbors of the poorer class, a good
or an ill disposition is manifested in the manner in which they regard the
conduct of their wealthy neighbors towards each other. Some poor people rejoice
in the kindness shown to a neighbor, and gladly embrace an opportunity of
speaking favorably of his character, or representing his need to those who can
assist him: while others are spiteful enough to regard the good done to a
neighbor as an injury done to themselves, both by the person who confers and the
person who receives the benefit. Good neighbors, especially among the
industrious poor, frequently have it in their power to protect each other’s
children and property during the absence of the parents. They may also
materially assist each other in enjoying the church services, by alternately
taking charge of each other’s infants and household affairs during the hours of
worship. In time of sickness, the kind offices of a good neighbor are peculiarly
valuable. "Better is a neighbor that is at hand, than a brother that is afar
off." The kindness of such a neighbor has been thus vividly and beautifully
described: "Oh, I love the soul that must and will do good; the kind creature
who runs to the sick bed of a poor neighbor; wipes away the moisture of a fever,
smooths the clothes, fluffs up the pillow, fills the water pitcher, sets it
within reach; administers a cup of cold water, but in the true spirit of a
disciple of Christ, and becomes a fellow-worker with Christ, in the
administration of happiness to mankind. Peace be with that good soul! She must
come in due time into the condition of her neighbor; and then, may the Lord
strengthen her on the bed of languishing, and, by some kind hand like her own,
"make all her bed in her sickness." The good neighbor will avoid a meddlesome,
obtrusive interference, yet will not hesitate to point out, in a kind and gentle
manner, any mistake into which a neighbor may have fallen, or any advantage he
may have overlooked, by which the interests of himself and family may be
promoted. Especially, the good neighbor will not fail to use the influence given
him, by kindness in common things, to persuade those for whom he is interested,
to frequent the worship of God in his sanctuary; to maintain family prayer; and
to attend to the moral and pious education of their children. The conduct of a
consistent Christian family is a kind of living invitation to those around;
"Come with us, and we will do you good, for God has spoken good concerning
Israel;" and not infrequently has the reply been heard, "We will go with you,
for we perceive that God is with you." Although I have not, in this chapter,
mentioned the names of my venerable friends, my mind looks back to many
families, to whom their neighborhood was thus made a blessing, and to many
others, on whom they impressed the duty, and whom they awakened to the
practicability and the pleasure of being good and useful neighbors. I shall add
some of their maxims, gleaned from scripture and other sources. Maxims on
Friendship and Company. "Too much familiarity breeds contempt." "Suspect
extraordinary and groundless civilities." "Suspect a tale-bearer; and never
trust him with your secrets who is fond of entertaining you with those of
another person. No wise man will put good liquor in a leaky vessel." "By the
company a man keeps, you may know what he is, or, at least, what he shortly will
be." "He who walks with wise men shall be wise; but a companion of fools shall
be destroyed." "No man can be provident of his time—who is not prudent in the
choice of his company." "Make no friendship with an angry man; and with a
furious man you shall not go, lest you learn of his ways, and get a snare to
your soul." "Do not join those who drink too much wine or gorge themselves on
meat, for drunkards and gluttons become poor, and drowsiness clothes them in
rags." Proverbs 23:20-21 "Beware of a reconciled enemy and an untried friend."
"Your own friend, and your father’s friend, forsake not." "Prosperity gains
friends; adversity tries them." "Like a bad tooth or a lame foot is reliance on
the unfaithful in times of trouble." "A friend in need, is a friend indeed."
"The best mirror is an old friend." "Faithful are the wounds of a friend; but
the kisses of an enemy are deceitful." "As iron sharpens iron, so one man
sharpens another." Proverbs 27:17 "Ointment and perfume rejoice the heart; so
does the sweetness of a man his friend, by hearty counsel." "The best friendship
is that which is cemented by love to Christ, the best of Friends. Those who are
thus united, will, like David and Jonathan, strengthen each other’s hands in
God; and the friendship begun on earth will be carried on and perfected in
heaven." SELF-DENIAL It is no uncommon thing for people to go to some
benevolent, influential man in their vicinity, with heavy complaints of need in
their families and their circumstances. If things were but so and so, different
from what they are, how much happier they would be! "I’ll tell you what," said a
gentleman once, who heard complaints of this kind, "there is a much shorter way
to happiness than getting your circumstances altered. It is this,—you must
cultivate a spirit of self-denial. What is the great cause of misery in the
heart, and in the family? The worship of that great idol, self-will. What is the
readiest way to happiness? For a man to deny himself, take up his cross, and
follow Christ daily. Could we but deny ourselves in our own wisdom and will, we
would never more know a restless hour. Sometimes our minds are set upon that
which is in itself evil. We are restless for the attainment of it, and it would
seem a great act of self-denial to debar ourselves of it; but there is nothing
sinful to which we can be tempted, but we shall find greater comfort in
resisting than in indulging it. "To conquer a lust is greater than to conquer a
kingdom. He who follows Christ in the path of self-denial, will dwell with him
in the world of glory! Who would not deny himself for a time, that he may enjoy
himself forever?" USEFULNESS My mother once said to a rich acquaintance, "Sir,
there is only one thing I envy you, and that is your usefulness. What a deal of
good may be done by one person, who has good learning, good property, and a good
will!" "My friend," replied he, "that God has in any degree made me useful to my
fellow-creatures, is, indeed, one prime enjoyment of my life; but you need not
envy me a pleasure that is so freely open to yourself. You speak of learning and
property: it is true, they are both means of usefulness; but let me tell you,
that good-will is far more essential than either." "Can you tell me, sir, any
way in which such a poor creature as I can be useful?" "Yes, many ways; but, if
you have the sincere desire, as I believe you have—you will be sure to find out
occasions. Do you never exert yourself to do good to your fellow-creatures in
their bodies and in their souls? never do a kind action, or give a useful hint?
Have you never been successful in warning anyone against error or danger into
which they were falling; or spoken a word to a young person which may be
remembered through life?" "Tis little, sir, that I can say worth remembering:
and yet I wish to say and do what I can; and you know God can give his blessing
to the weakest." "Well, if you say and do what you can—you will be useful!
Remember what seems at the time a very small degree of usefulness may be the
seed of a great deal. There is a good saying, ’A whetstone, though it cannot
cut, may sharpen a knife; a match may light a torch.’ To encourage you in trying
to do good, I will mention an anecdote of a poor, but pious, shoemaker. Meeting
a young gentleman just going to the university, to study with a view to the
ministry, he thus addressed him: ’Sir, I hope you will study your Bible well,
that you may be qualified for feeding the sheep of Christ with the bread of
eternal life.’ A divine blessing attended this hint, and impressed it on the
mind of the student. He never forgot it while he lived, and he lived to be an
able, faithful, and successful minister of the gospel." Timothy, that eminent
young evangelist, who was honored as the companion of the apostle Paul, was
distinguished for his knowledge of the holy scriptures. And how did he acquire
it? By the early instructions of his pious mother and grandmother. Here was the
whetstone sharpening the knife, and the match lighting the torch; and who shall
say that the pious parents who trained the young minister were less useful than
the minister himself? There is another way in which Christians may be useful,
even when under the most trying feelings of uselessness and helplessness —by
patiently suffering the will of God. The calmness and cheerfulness of a
bed-ridden Christian have been made the means of carrying conviction to the
heart shut against all the eloquence and appeals of the pulpit. An eminent
Scotch divine (Ralph Erskine) visiting a poor crippled woman, she thus addressed
him: "O, sir, I am just lying here, a poor useless creature." "Do not think so!"
said the minister. "I think," added she, "that if I were away to heaven, I would
be of some use to glorify God without sin." "Indeed," replied the good man, "I
think you are glorifying God now—by humble resignation and submission to his
will, and that in the face of many difficulties, and under many distresses. In
heaven the saints have not your burdens to groan under. Your praise, burdened as
you are, is more wonderful to me, and, I trust, acceptable to God." The great
secret of Christian usefulness is to be awake to opportunities, and intent on
doing what we can—rather than bewailing that it is in our power to do so little;
and, in this respect, he who faithfully improves the one talent, bids fair to be
entrusted with the five or the ten. I must not omit to tell you of one instance
more, showing how a person in a humble station of life may be honorable and
useful, and greatly promote the usefulness of those above him. Philip Melancthon
was one of the reformers, those great and godly men who were instrumental in
bringing about the reformation from popery. He labored, by his conversation and
his writings, to enlighten the minds of men; and his kind and amiable
disposition and manners did much to win their hearts and engage their attention.
Among the many Christian virtues that adorned his character, Melancthon was
highly esteemed for his great generosity. Indeed, his friends were astonished at
his liberality, and wondered how, with his small means, he could afford to give
so much in charity. It appears to have been principally owing to the care and
good management of an excellent and faithful servant named John, a native of
Sweden. The whole duty of provisioning the family was entrusted to this
domestic, whose care, assiduity and prudence amply justified the unbounded
confidence reposed in him. He made the concerns of the family his own, avoiding
all needless expenditure, and watching with a jealous eye his master’s property.
He was also the first instructor of the children during their infancy. John grew
old in his master’s service, and expired in his house, amidst the affectionate
regrets of the whole family. During a service of thirty-four years, how much
usefulness was effected by honest John, and by his master through his
instrumentality! Melancthon invited the students of the university to attend the
funeral of his faithful servant, delivered an oration over his grave, and
composed a Latin epitaph for his tombstone, of which the following is a
translation— "Here, at a distance from his native land, Came honest John, at
Philip’s first command, Companion of his exile, doubly dear, Who in a servant
found a friend sincere; And more than friend—a man of faith and prayer,
Assiduous soother of his master’s care. Here to the worms his lifeless body is
given, But his immortal soul sees God in heaven." This is, perhaps, as good a
place as any to add another epitaph on a faithful servant, copied from a village
church in Leicestershire. "Reader, Respect the memory of Sarah Jackson, An
invaluable servant, a sincere Christian; Distinguished beyond wealth and titles
By the dignity of worth. Let her remind you, that a humble station may exercise
The highest virtues And that a well-earned pittance of earthly wages May prove
the richest treasure in heaven. She lived, during twenty-seven years, In the
family of the Spencer Madan, By whom this marble is affectionately inscribed, In
token of respect, esteem, and gratitude. "A servant—no—a humble friend Sinks to
the tomb in Sally’s mournful end! Peace, honest Sally, to a soul that knew No
deed unfaithful, and no word untrue! "Thrice happy they, whose mortal labors
done, May lead, like yours, from service to a throne. Go, claim the promise of
your chosen part, In zeal a Martha, with a Mary’s heart." "Masters and
mistresses must have devices how to do good to their servants; how to make them
the servants of Christ and the children of God. God, whom you must remember to
be ’your Master in heaven,’ has brought them to you, and placed them under your
care. ’Who can tell’ for what good he has brought them? What if they should be
the elect of God, fetched from different parts, and brought into your family on
purpose, that, by means of their situation, they may be brought home to the
Shepherd of souls? O that the souls of our servants were more regarded by us;
that we might give a better demonstration that we despise not our own souls, by
doing what we can for the souls of our servants! How can we pretend to
Christianity when we do so little to Christianize our servants? Truly, you must
give an account to God concerning them. If their souls should be lost through
your negligence, what answer can you make to ’God the Judge of all?’ Methinks,
common principles of gratitude should incline you to study the happiness of
those, by whose labors your lives are so much accommodated. Certainly, they
would be the better servants to you, more faithful, honest, industrious, and
submissive, for your bringing them into the service of your common Lord." I
somewhere met with a paper under this title, the ’Resolution of a Master;’ which
pleased me so much that I transcribed it. "I would always remember, that my
servants are, in some sense, my children; and by taking care that they lack
nothing which may be good for them, I would make them as my children; and as far
as the methods of instilling piety into the mind, which I use with my children,
may be properly and prudently used with them, they shall be partakers in them.
Nor will I leave them ignorant of anything, wherein I may instruct them to be
useful to their generation. "I will see that my servants be furnished with
Bibles, and be able and careful to read these living oracles. I will put Bibles
and other good and proper books into their hands; will allow them time to read,
and assure myself that they do not misspend this time. If I discover any wicked
books in their hands, I will take away from them those pestilential instruments
of wickedness. I will also teach them to write as well as read. And I will
appoint them now and then such things to write, as may be for their greatest
advantage. "I will be very inquisitive and solicitous about the company chosen
by my servants; and with all possible earnestness will rescue them from the
snares of evil company, and forbid their being the ’companions of fools.’ "Such
of them as may be capable of the task, I will employ to teach lessons of piety
to my children, and will recompense them for so doing. But I would, with
particular care, contrive them to be such lessons as may be for their own
edification too. "I will sometimes call them alone, talk to them about the state
of their souls; tell them how to close with their only Savior; charge them to do
so, and ’lay hold on eternal life;’ and show them, very particularly, how they
may render all they do for me a service to the glorious Lord; how they may do
all from the principle of obedience to him, and become entitled to the ’reward
of the heavenly inheritance.’" COURTSHIP AND MARRIAGE On these subjects much
advice is given—and very little taken. If asked at all—it is generally not until
the mind is made up, the affections engaged, and perhaps the hand already
pledged. There were one gentleman and lady in our village, who were commonly
consulted on this business by all the prudent young people in the neighborhood.
The first question they generally asked was, "Have you consulted your parents?
What do they think of it? for you cannot expect happiness if you marry without
the full consent of your own parents and the parents of your intended partner."
Very commonly the answer was, "I have spoken to my parents, and they advised me
to consult you." These people had a way of making young people themselves see
and own if there was anything imprudent or wrong, so as to induce them to give
up the matter of their own accord, which was easier than for the parents
directly to forbid it. My brother Richard, I remember, was in a terrible hurry
to get married before he was out of his apprenticeship. Father and mother did
all they could to persuade him to wait a while, and it was well for him, that
they succeeded. The gentleman, too, of whom I have just spoken, talked kindly to
him on the subject. "Don’t be too hasty, young man; ’tis easy to marry in haste,
and repent at leisure. I would advise you not to think of marrying until you are
settled in a fair way of getting a living. You don’t wish to be a burden to your
parents, but to be able to provide for yourself, and those dependent on you; and
for some years to come it will be much better for you to have one plough going
than two cradles. You may think that ’love and a little’ will be quite enough,
but let me tell you, love and nothing will be but sorry fare; and, ’When poverty
comes in at the door—love flies out at the window!’ You think, perhaps, that no
such thing can happen to you: then let me tell you, that, if you think your love
strong enough to bear poverty after marriage, you had better try its strength in
waiting beforehand. If you do really love one another, I think you will find it
easy and pleasant to work and save, that you may have something to make your
home comfortable, when it is prudent for you to marry." My brother promised to
wait a year or two, and set about in good earnest every leisure hour he had, to
work and save for future comfort. But in less than three months’ time, he came
again to his friend in great trouble, and told him that Fanny was getting very
shy of him, and had been seen walking with another fellow—and now what was to be
done? "By all means let her go," he replied, "and reckon it a very good miss for
you. If she is tired of waiting, let her go on without you; and when she is
gone, comfort yourself with remembering that there are as good fish left in the
sea—as ever were caught out of it." This seemed hard doctrine at the time, and
Dick was half inclined to break his promise, and go after Fanny with an offer to
marry directly; but prudence prevailed. After flirting about with three or four
different young men, Fanny at last married William Stephens, the sawyer, and a
poor, dressy dawdle of a wife she made him. As for Richard, he soon found that
he could do vastly well without her; and, I believe, he forgot all about
marrying for four or five years, until he met with a steady, respectable young
woman, whom all his friends approved, and who turned out to be an excellent
partner to him, and a good mother to his children. When he looked at his decent,
tidy wife, his well-furnished cottage, and his clean, well-managed children—and
contrasted them with those of his neighbor Stephens, he sometimes went across
the house humming the old ditty, "As pathetic a wife as Stevens had! I would not
give a button for her." A second question which these mature friends used to ask
the young people who came to consult them, was this: "What is it in the person
of whom you speak, that makes you think you should love him (or her) better than
all the world beside? You ought to be able to do this; for it is a very foolish
action either to marry without love, or to love without reason. Is it beauty?
Beauty is only skin deep, and sometimes covers a heart deformed by vice and ill
temper. Beauty is a poor thing, unless it accompanies something far better than
itself, and that will long outlive it. To marry only for beauty, would be like
buying a house for the flowers in the windows. ’Charm is deceptive, and beauty
is fleeting; but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised,’ and chosen too by
the wise man who seeks a godly helpmate. Would you marry for money? ’In seeking
after a comfortable partner, good character more to be sought for than a great
dowry.’ ’Better have a fortune in a wife than a fortune with a wife.’ "Is it for
genteel, attractive manners and great accomplishments? Don’t be imposed upon:
’all is not gold that glitters.’ Beauty, and property, and pleasing manners, and
great accomplishments, are all very good make-weights to a bargain, which is
good independently of them, but would made a wretchedly bad bargain of
themselves. In marrying, you need not only what will look well, and excite
admiration when all goes on smoothly—but you need what will afford real comfort
and support in the time of adversity." Then they would ask, "How does the party
behave in present relationships? Is he (or she) remarked as a dutiful,
affectionate, attentive child; a kind brother or sister? for never yet was it
found that the disobedient, rebellious son, or the pert, undutiful daughter, was
fitted to make an affectionate, faithful, valuable husband or wife." Then again,
"Is the intended party of age, temper and habits suitable to your own? for
people may be very good in themselves—who are not suitable to each other; and
two people who have been used to different ways of living, must have an uncommon
share of good temper and forbearance, if ever they make each other happy in the
married life. Remember, ’Marriage with peace and piety is this world’s paradise.
Marriage with strife and disagreement—it is this life’s hell.’ "Is the person
humble, industrious, and contented? If not, your present lot will not satisfy
her; still less will she be willing to descend to a lower state, if such should
be the appointment of Providence. "And then, how is it as to the one thing
needful? Whatever you do, don’t let this be overlooked. Without true religion,
you lose the best sweetness and relish of prosperity; and you have no provision
whatever for meeting trials and afflictions! Besides, if you could live together
a century in the tenderest affection, and the most unmingled comfort, what a
dreadful thing to think of death coming and separating you forever! Be sure,
then, you remember the scripture rule, ’marry only in the Lord;’ and expect not
the blessing of God if you violate it. Ask the blessing of God on all your
engagements. ’A prudent wife is of the Lord.’ ’In all your ways acknowledge Him,
and He will direct your paths.’ "When all these matters are satisfactorily
settled, and your choice is fixed, be steady and faithful. Never act with
levity, or say or do a thing that would give each other pain. Be very prudent
and circumspect in your fellowship with each other. In this respect, your future
comfort and confidence are at stake, as well as your fair character in the
world. Let nothing which occurs now, furnish matter for reproach or regret at
any future time." To young married people, our friends would say, "Let your
conduct be such as to render easy the duties of the other party. A wife is
commanded to respect her husband. Let his conduct be wise and holy, and then it
will command respect. ’Husbands, love your wives;’ then wives should be truly
amiable; a man can hardly love a vixen or a lazy woman. If a wife wishes to keep
her husband at home, she must make home comfortable to him. In order to this,
she must be, as the apostle says, ’discreet, chaste, a keeper at home.’ A giddy,
gadding wife is sure to make a dissatisfied, if not a dissolute husband. Seek to
promote each other’s comforts; so will you best secure your own. "Let there be
no secrets, and no separate interests. Do nothing that requires concealment, and
never act in such a way as to provoke it. Many a partner of a generous and open
disposition, has been driven to practice concealment by the extravagance or
unkindness of the associate." To husbands they said—"Treat your wife always with
respect. It will procure respect to you not only from her, but from all who
observe it. Never use a slighting expression to her even in jest, for slights in
jest, after frequent bandyings, are apt to end in angry speeches. To
both—"Remember the design of your union, to promote each other’s honor, comfort
and usefulness in this life, and preparation for eternity. You are to walk
together as fellow-travelers through the paths of time, whether smooth or
rugged; and as fellow-heirs of the grace of life, helping each other by prayer,
counsel, sympathy and forbearance. "Always keep in view the termination of your
union—’until death us do part.’ This will keep you sober and moderate in your
worldly enjoyments and expectations, and at the same time will preserve you from
such conduct as would embitter the parting moment, or add an unnecessary pang to
the grief of the survivor." It was no uncommon thing for people to carry to our
good mature friends, complaints against bad husbands or bad wives. Such
complainants generally met the reply: "Go back, then, and be yourself a better
wife, (or husband,) and see if that does not prevail with him (or her) to be a
better husband (or wife.") Another sound piece of advice often given them was
this: "Whenever differences arise, endeavor to persuade yourself that they must
have arisen from some mistake or misunderstanding of your own; never suppose the
other party in fault, or that anything unkind could have been intended, but
charge all the blame on yourself, and make it your business to promote
reconciliation and preserve peace. This will at once mellow your own spirit, and
win the other party to reconciliation and love." I remember being greatly
pleased with a fable which I once read. It was something like this— The sun and
the north wind were trying which could soonest make a traveler part with his
coat. The wind began, and, storming with all its force, tumbled and tossed the
coat about the poor man’s ears, but to no purpose; for the stronger it blew, the
man held and enrapt his coat the closer about him. When the wind was weary, the
sun began, and played his cheerful beams so successfully, that he soon melted
the traveler into a kindly warmth, and made his coat not only useless, but
troublesome to him, and so he quickly threw it off. The moral is plain and easy;
and all married people, in particular, would do well to remember, that when
storming and raging are ineffectual to gain their ends—kindness and good-nature
will seldom or never fail of success. Another good rule is this—Let husband and
wife never be angry at the same time: by this means family feuds and discord
will neither come often, nor continue long. By way of reconciling married people
to their own peculiar lot, our mature friends would say, "If marriages are
appointed in heaven before they are solemnized on earth, then, though a
Christian might have had a richer, better, or more sweet-tempered partner, yet
probably not a fitter partner; therefore, though nuptial love and other duties
are not performed to you, yet do your part, in obedience to God, and you will
assuredly find comfort in the end, whatever crosses you may meet with in the
way." I may add, that by the counsels of these judicious friends, many
connections were prevented which were likely only to end in sorrow and ruin;
many were formed to the satisfaction and real enjoyment of the parties; and many
people were brought to a more correct and faithful discharge of their duties,
and, consequently, to a higher degree of happiness in the marital relation. CARE
OF CHILDREN We occasionally find a lady, who is the kind friend of all the young
mothers in the village. I was once acquainted with such a lady, and I can speak
of her friendly advice with great gratitude, and have reason to know that many
others can do the same. I have often thought that by attention to her good
rules, the lives of many children were saved; and by being properly trained,
many have become real comforts to their parents, and useful members of society.
I am sure that many lives are sacrificed to bad management in infancy; and
others have grown up, under parental neglect and bad example, such wicked
characters, that it might truly be said of them, "It had been better for them if
they had never been born." Parents ought seriously to consider that they are to
their children either their best friends or their worst enemies; and a solemn
reckoning will be made at the last great day. What a dreadful meeting will that
be for ungodly parents and ungodly children! What a blessed meeting for pious
parents and grateful, godly children, whose feet they have early directed into
the way of peace! How true and how weighty are those sayings of holy writ,
"Train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not depart
from it;" but "a child left to himself brings his mother to shame!" I once asked
her how early she thought a child could be made to mind, because I had heard
some women say it was of no consequence how a child was humored the first few
months, while it knew no better. She replied, "If a child can be humored, it can
be managed; and whatever silly people may say about its knowing no better, its
crying when anything is done to it, or when it wants anything—is the trial
whether the child or the parent shall be master! You will soon find, when you
wash and dress your child, if you stop when it cries, next day it will cry the
louder; but if you go quietly on, the child will soon be quiet too. What can it
cry for—except it be in order to get its own way? This, then, is the easiest
time for teaching it that it cannot have its own way, but must be content with
the parent’s way; and you can hardly imagine how valuable this lesson,
thoroughly learned in infancy, will be to the child in future life." Another of
this lady’s rules was this—"If children are to be made obedient and tractable,
both parents must be of one mind. If one denies an indulgence and the other
grants it; or if one corrects and the other pities and soothes, and says, ’Poor
thing! it did not mean any harm,’ the children are not likely to regard either
parent. It is the father’s part to insist upon it that the children obey their
mother both in his presence and in his absence, and the mother’s part to teach
them to love and respect their father. By this means both may hope to maintain
their just authority, and to preserve order and harmony in their family." I set
down some more of her sayings. "Remember your children are born with depraved
inclinations, which soon show themselves in a spirit of selfishness. This you
must very early resist, not only by making your children obey yourselves, but by
teaching them to be kind one to another, and to find pleasure in giving up a
thing they like for the gratification of another. This is the way to make them
beloved by others, and happy in themselves. Whatever you do, set a good example
before your children. Never say a word or do an action that you would not like
them to imitate. Be not hasty or angry in correcting them. When you find it
necessary to correct, let the child see that it is according to the sin of the
action committed—not according to the inconvenience it may occasion you; and
make your children sensible, by your calm, serious and affectionate manner, that
you correct them from a sense of duty, and a desire for their real advantage.
"Never deceive children in the smallest matter or the greatest. Never promise
that which you cannot perform, or which you do not intend to perform. Never get
them to act as you wish, by telling them a thing is different from what it
really is, or by any foolish threats of ’an old man,’ ’a black man,’ ’a ghost,’
etc. It is foolish to make them fear what has no being, and wicked to make them
fear or hate what does exist, but would never injure them. People talk of ’white
lies’ to children; there are no white lies; but some of the blackest are those
which, by deceiving children, teach them to practice lying and deceit
themselves. ’A trick helps once, but hinders ever after.’ If you tell a child
that bitter medicine is sweet, you may get him to take it that once; but do you
think he will ever believe you again? or, what is of more consequence still, do
you think you can ever convince him that there is any harm in telling a
falsehood when he can gain his purpose by so doing? "Have no favorites, but
treat all your children alike, according as their circumstances require, and
their conduct deserves. If children are treated alike when all things are equal,
it enables the parents to make a difference with advantage when circumstances
require. A child which has misbehaved is not jealous at seeing its brothers and
sisters enjoy pleasures or notice which he feels he has justly forfeited; but he
is stimulated to better conduct in future, which may deserve the same kindness,
and which he knows he shall receive if he deserves it. None of the children are
jealous of the particular attention paid to a sick child; but by observing that
the parents consider such a distinction necessary, tender feelings are awakened
in their minds on behalf of the sufferer, and a desire to do or avoid anything
in their power by which its comfort may be promoted. "Parents who always treat
their children with justice, fairness, and affection, will find little
difficulty in inducing the many to forego their noisy sport for the sake of the
one, or to give up anything they possess for his gratification. These things are
comparatively easy in families where a habitual good understanding is maintained
between all parties; and these kind dispositions, thus early cultivated,
generally mark the fellowship of the brothers and sisters through life. "Be
frugal in the use of rewards and punishments. It is the part of wisdom to effect
all possible good at the least possible expense. Rewards and punishments are
like money, valuable according to the value set upon it, and the advantages it
will procure. If sending to bed an hour earlier than the rest of the children is
found sufficient to impress on the mind of the offender a sense of the evil of
his conduct, and the folly of repeating it, it would be a pity to waste a more
severe punishment, which should be reserved for some great and special occasion.
In some families, a kiss, or a quarter of an hour’s conversation or reading, or
being employed in some little commission for the parents, forms a more powerful
reward, or the withholding them a more effectual punishment, than the lavishing
of costly gifts, or exercising severe flogging, or starvation, or imprisonment
would do in others. But this is managed by firmness: a very small punishment,
which is sure to be inflicted, will intimidate more than a much greater
punishment, where there is a hope of getting off. "Children should be early
taught to employ their time in doing something useful. There is no surer way to
make a child respect himself and have a regard to his character, than to let him
feel that he is of some use to his parents; and nothing so effectually keeps
children out of mischief as the habit of having something to do. "When children
are to be seen gambling, or tormenting a mouse, a worm, or a fly, it just makes
good what the little hymn says,— ’For Satan finds some mischief still For idle
hands to do.’ "If these children had been taught to take pleasure in making
baskets or nets, in gardening or carpentering, as their turn might be, it is
most likely they would never have thought of cruel, mischievous sports. The mind
or the hands unemployed resemble an empty dwelling with a sign, This house for
rent; and some tempter or other is sure to get access to it. "Children should
not only be well employed in a general way, but they should early be taught some
regular employment by which there is a prospect of their getting a livelihood.
Old Mr. Dod, the puritan minister, used to say, ’Give them a Bible and a
calling—and may God be with them.’ "Children should be early trained to an
orderly attendance at the house of God. It is not for us to say at how early a
period, pious impressions of a saving kind may be made on the minds of children.
Some children have given decided evidence of them very young indeed; but whether
or not a child of three years old may be benefited by what he hears—it is a
disgrace that a child of three years old should keep someone at home to mind
him. A mother who manages her infant well, may very safely take it in her arms
the first six or eight months. It will then perhaps become so lively as to
disturb the solemnity of worship; but if it is brought under control, and
accustomed to habits of propriety at home, at eighteen or twenty months old it
may be made sensible that at such a time and place it must be quiet. In families
where no servant is kept, or only one, and where pious privileges are prized, it
will be no small acquisition to be enabled to take children early to the house
of God; and to the children themselves the early formation of this habit may
prove of unspeakable advantage. What a lovely example does little Samuel
present! the child who was weaned and brought to wait upon the Lord, and who was
as eminent for steadfast piety as he was for early devotedness; and what a
pleasing proof that his fond and pious parents had been exemplary and successful
in the exercise of early discipline! A well-behaved child in the house of God is
a credit to its parents, and proves that it has been well instructed and well
disciplined at home. "It is of great importance early to impress on the minds of
children sentiments of respect and reverence for the ministers of the gospel.
Children are very observant even of tones and manners. Happy are those children
whose earliest associations are connected with the minister as the most esteemed
friend of the family; one who was always welcomed with affectionate cordiality;
always spoken of with respect and gratitude; his advice sought; his approbation
valued; his instructions treasured up and enforced; and the success of his
labors made a constant matter of prayer. Many such families have I known, and I
have observed that the young people in those families have been distinguished by
a modest sedateness of manners, and a reverence for sacred things in general;
which, though not in themselves amounting to a saving change, nor by any means
to be substituted for it, are yet very lovely and desirable, and which are often
the companions or the precursors of an ear and a heart opened to receive the
saving impressions of divine truth. "I have also known families—yes, and
schools,—professedly religious, where the dinner-table conversation of the heads
of the family on a Sabbath day was generally occupied in censuring some
expression of the minister, or ridiculing something in his tone or manner. And
the effects have been lamentable. Some young minds, on which impressions had
been made by the sermons so ridiculed, were thus encouraged to postpone the
convictions they had begun to admit, and to shut their hearts against the
instructions they were thus taught to despise. Some have even advanced from
contempt of an individual minister, to indifference, contempt, and scepticism on
all pious subjects. This is not a fiction or a fancy, but a fact; a fact, it is
to be feared, by no means uncommon; and one which, perhaps, in some measure
accounts for a frequent wonder in the pious world, namely, how it is that the
children of pious parents, and those brought up in religious schools, so often
become indifferent or opposed to religion. A great and beneficial hold is laid
on the feelings of a child who has been taught to reverence his minister.
"Parents who know the value of their own souls, will hardly neglect the pious
instruction of their children. Perhaps they may feel their own ignorance and
inability to teach; yet let them be encouraged to try. It is very remarkable
that the means of instruction most expressly charged on parents in the word of
God, is that which is within the reach of the poorest and most illiterate. It
requires no great learning to talk in a familiar way with our children. Who is
there that sits down to a meal, and rises up in silence? Who takes a walk with
his children, and says nothing as they go along? Now, scripture expressly
enjoins, that this free and affectionate fellowship between parents and
children, should be made subservient to the purposes of early pious instruction.
The only pre-requisite for employing this best and most efficient means—is a
heart thoroughly alive to the importance of the subject. ’And these words which
I command you this day shall be in your heart, and you shall teach them
diligently unto your children, and shall talk of them when you sit in your
house, and when you walk by the way, and when you lie down, and when you rise
up. And you shall bind them for a sign upon your hand, and they shall be as
frontlets between your eyes, and you shall write them upon the posts of your
house, and upon your gates.’ That is, all the habits and observances of the
family should be calculated to keep alive a constant remembrance of true
religion, and to present it in a lovely and attractive form to all around. A
child brought up in a consistent family, when it goes out into the world, will
look anxiously for a Bible, and feel the lack of it a deficiency for which
nothing can compensate. He will wait for the summons to family prayer, and if no
such call be heard, he will feel that a most important part of the business of
the day has been neglected, and a most delightful part of its daily enjoyments
withheld. "Parents who are sensible of their own deficiencies, and yet desirous
that their children should be well instructed, will surely avail themselves of
the valuable advantages of Sunday school instruction. Indeed, every young
person, in whatever station of life he may be placed, ought to be either a
Sunday scholar, or a Sunday school teacher. It is a pity that either pride,
indifference, or love of pleasure, on the part of the young, or false indulgence
on that of parents, should withhold the attendance of so many children and young
people, who ought to be employed in getting good or doing good. Parents should
enforce the attendance of their younger children as learners, and encourage and
stimulate their diligence, devotedness and perseverance as teachers, when
arrived to sufficient maturity. "One word more on the subject of children.
Parents ought not to make the care of a family an excuse for negligence in the
great affairs of personal religion. It is hardly possible to manage a young
family so as to occasion no privations and sacrifices of attendance on the
public means of grace; but by early discipline with the children, and a good
understanding among those who have the care of them, the labor may be so
lightened and so divided, as that no one person need be confined from public
worship a whole Sabbath, except in case of illness. On the other hand, there are
some mothers who need a caution against indulging themselves in frequent
attendance on week-day services, to the neglect of a young family. It was well
said by a worthy minister, on finding a family of children in dirt and confusion
at a late hour in the morning while the mother was upstairs at her devotions,
’What! is there no fear of God in this house?’ In other families, the children
have been exposed to bodily danger, or to the greater danger of being corrupted
by evil example and impious companions, while the mother was seeking her own
pleasures in the house of prayer, or perhaps engaged in religious gossip in a
neighbor’s house, but neglecting the obvious duties of life. This kind of
neglect is perhaps less frequent than the other extreme; yet both should be
guarded against. The care of children will not atone for the neglect of the
soul; but the truly consistent Christian will give to every duty its proper
place and proportion, and, by early rising and good contrivance, will secure
time for pious duties, without neglecting her duty to the bodies and souls of
her children: ’These ought you to have done, and not to leave the other
undone.’" The indirect influence of a mother upon the formation of her
children’s character is very great. "Mr. Cecil’s mother was a woman of real
piety. Her family, for generations back, were pious people. It was a special
mercy to Mr. Cecil that his mother was a partaker of the same grace with her
ancestors. She labored early to impress his mind, both by precept and example;
she bought him Janeway’s ’Token for Children,’ which greatly affected him, and
made him retire into a corner to pray; but his serious beginnings wore off; and
he at length made such progress in sin, that he gloried in his shame. "Lying one
night in bed, he was contemplating the case of his mother. ’I see,’ said he to
himself, ’two unquestionable facts: first, my mother is greatly afflicted in
body and mind, and yet I see that she cheerfully bears up under all, by the
support she derives from constantly retiring to her closet and her Bible;
secondly, that she has a secret spring of comfort of which I know nothing, while
I, who seek pleasure by every means, seldom or never find it. If, however, there
is any such secret in religion, why may not I attain it as well as my mother? I
will immediately seek it of God.’ He instantly rose in his bed, and began to
pray. But he was soon damped in his attempt, by recollecting that much of his
mother’s comfort seemed to arise from her faith in Christ. ’Now,’ thought he,
’this Christ have I ridiculed. He stands much in my way, and can form no part of
my prayers.’ In utter confusion of mind, therefore, he lay down again. Next day,
however, he continued to pray to ’the Supreme Being.’ He began to consult books,
and to attend preachers: his difficulties were gradually removed, and his
objections answered, and his course of life began to amend. He now listened to
the pious admonitions of his mother, which he had before affected to receive
with pride and scorn; yet they had fixed themselves in his heart, like a barbed
arrow; and though the effects were, at the time, concealed from her observation,
yet tears would fall from his eyes as he passed along the streets, from the
impressions she had left on his mind. Now he would discourse with her, and hear
her without outrage; which led her to hope that a gracious principle was forming
in his heart, and more especially as he then attended the preaching of the word.
Thus he made some progress; but felt great difficulty in separating from his
favorite connections. Light, however, broke into his mind, until he gradually
discovered that Jesus Christ, so far from ’standing in his way,’ was ’the only
way, the truth, and the life, to all that come unto God by him.’ "My first
convictions on the subject of religion were confirmed from observing, that
really pious people had some solid happiness among them, which I had felt that
the vanities of the world could not give. I shall never forget standing by the
bed of my sick mother. ’Are not you afraid to die?’ I asked her. ’No!’ ’No! Why,
does the uncertainty of another state give you no concern?’ ’No; because God has
said to me, "Fear not: when you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and
through the rivers, they shall not overflow you." The remembrance of this scene
has oftentimes since drawn an ardent prayer from me, that I might die the death
of the righteous.’ The seeds sown in tears by his inestimable mother, though
long buried, now burst into life, and shot forth with vigor; and he became a
preacher of that truth he once labored to destroy. "Where parental influence
does not convert, it hampers—it hinders the the wheels of evil. I had a pious
mother, who dropped godly hints in my way—I could never rid myself of them. I
was a professed infidel; but then I liked to be an infidel in company, rather
than when alone—I was wretched when by myself. Her principles and maxims spoiled
my pleasure. With my companions I would sometimes stifle them; like embers, we
kept one another warm. Besides, I was a sort of hero; I had beguiled several of
my associates into my own opinions, and I had to maintain a character before
them: but I could not divest myself of my better principles. I went with one of
my companions to see a blasphemous play: he could laugh heartily, but I could
not: the ridicule on regeneration was high sport to him—to me it was none; it
could not make me laugh. He did not know what regeneration was—and I did. I knew
there was such a thing. I was afraid and ashamed to laugh at it. Parental
influence thus cleaves to a man—it harasses him—it throws itself constantly in
his way." Mrs. Huntington gives the following account of her mode of educating
her children—"I begin to have my children in the room at prayers, within the
month after their birth; and they always continue to be present, unless they are
sick, or are excluded the privilege as a punishment for having been very
naughty. It is difficult, when they are quite young, to keep them perfectly
still. But the habit of thinking they are too young to be present at family
devotion, is a bad one. And, besides, if they do not come in, someone is obliged
to remain out with them, and is thus deprived of a precious privilege, and an
important means of grace. After they get to be two years, or more, old, and are
able to understand the meaning of your conduct, if they play, or in any other
way make a disturbance, they may be taken out, and compelled to remain by
themselves until the service is over; which will generally be felt by them to be
so great a punishment, that they will not soon commit a similar offence. I would
not do this, however, on every slight deviation from perfect order, as children
cannot be expected to conduct themselves like adults. "As to government, I have
always made it a rule never to give a child what it is passionately earnest to
have, however proper the object may be in itself; because, otherwise, an
association would immediately be formed in the mind between importunity and
success. Were a child always told, when he cries for a thing, ’You shall have it
when you show a proper temper,’ it would soon teach him to be reasonable. I
think it the destruction of government to be capricious; to refuse, one day,
what, in circumstances not seen by the child to be different, is granted on
another; to let fretting and teasing carry a point at one time, when, at
another, they would bring punishment. Children very soon see whether we are
consistent; and little deviations from an established rule afford great
encouragement for the next time. These little deviations do great mischief, and
are often imperceptibly by the parent, though the child is quick-sighted enough
to observe them. "One thing, my dear friend, I think of the greatest importance,
and that is—that children be made always to mind, and consider the parent’s word
as their law. Giving up once, after a command has passed, may lay the
foundation, and lead to the establishment, of a principle of insubordination as
troublesome as unconquerable. "It is also very necessary to good government that
punishment should be proportioned to offences. If we make no distinction between
intentional offences, and careless inadvertencies, the child, by the frequent
recurrence of these latter faults, and the sharp rebukes they bring upon
him—will become so accustomed to severe reproof, that he will not mind it.
Tenderness of heart is the most powerful human engine of parental government;
and when this is lost, it seems to me all is lost, unless the grace of God
interposes. The inevitable consequence of frequent reproof is, a heart blunted
in its sensibilities, and unmoved by the parent’s displeasure. Many little
things should not be observed, which, if you were conscious the child knew you
had observed, ought to be reproved. A harsh and angry tone should never be used,
unless a gentle one has previously failed. And I believe, where the authority of
the parent is early established by the mild and gentle means to some of which I
have alluded, severe measures need be resorted to very seldom." FAMILY PRAYER
When any of the young people were married, our minister made a point of urging
on them to begin by setting up family prayer. He always advised them to begin at
first; "for," said he, "if it be omitted the first day, it is more likely to be
deferred the second, and perhaps deferred until conscience shall have left off
to feel the omission; or until the difficulties of making a beginning seem
almost insurmountable." I wish I could recollect the whole of a beautiful
sermon, (Sermon on Family Religion, by Matthew Henry) which he once read to us
on this subject, but I will set down a few of his sayings, addressed to
different people, and meeting the difficulties and objections which those who
had lived in neglect were too ready to urge against beginning. "Prayer is a key
which unlocks the blessings of the day, and locks up the dangers of the night."
"It is the part of wisdom, as well as of duty, to seek the blessing of the Lord
on all our undertakings, for, ’Except the Lord builds the house, they labor in
vain that build it. Except the Lord keeps the city, the watchman wakes but in
vain.’ What can you do without the blessing of God? And if you neglect to ask
it, you can hardly expect to have it." "There are five special errands which
should bring every family daily to the throne of grace, and which cannot so well
be carried either in public or in secret prayer— "1. To own our dependence on
God. It is he who sets the solitary in families; and on his free goodness in
Jesus Christ we depend for all things that pertain to life and godliness. On him
we depend for all our supports and comforts here below, and for all our hopes of
heaven hereafter; and to him we are accountable for our improvement of the
various relations in which he has placed us, and the various talents he has
entrusted to our hands. These things should be daily acknowledged, that the
remembrance may be kept alive and acted upon in the family. "2. We have family
sins to confess. The best of families have to confess daily sins of infirmity;
failing to do to each other as much good as we might have done; leading one
another into sin and folly; much vain and unprofitable conversation; perhaps
some irritability of spirit or unkindness of speech, instead of provoking one
another to love, and to good works. In many things we all offend God and one
another; and a penitent confession in prayer, together with believing
application to the blood of sprinkling, will be the most effectual way of
reconciliation with God, and with one another. The best families, and those in
which piety and love most prevail, in many things come short, and do enough
every day to bring them on their knees at night. "3. We have family
thanksgivings to offer. It is of the Lord’s mercies, that we are not consumed.
When the family comes together safe in the morning from their respective
retirements, and meets safe at night after their various employments, what can
be so natural as that they should kneel together and bless the Lord, who daily
loads them with benefits, even the God of their salvation? Has the family been
preserved from sickness? or has health been restored where it had been
interrupted? Does God bless our substance, and prosper the work of our hands?
Does God give us bread to eat, and raiment to put on? Does God make us happy in
our family relations, and rain down about our tents the manna of the gospel?
Surely, where these mercies are enjoyed, the voice of rejoicing and thanksgiving
should be heard in the tabernacles of the righteous. "4. We have family mercies
to seek. Daily bread is received by families together, and we are taught to pray
for it together: ’Give us this day our daily bread.’ We need daily directions as
to the path of duty; we need wisdom for the management of family affairs;
success to crown our endeavors; or grace to prepare us for disappointment. All
these blessings should be sought of God in prayer. Then, too, we need the
blessing of God to crown the instructions, which, as a family, we have been
receiving in the sanctuary, and to crown the instructions and counsels given by
parents to children. It is true, we cannot give our children grace, and in
prayer we humbly acknowledge that we cannot; but then in prayer also we commit
them to him who can give them grace, and who has declared that for all these
things he will be sought unto, by the house of Israel to do it for them.
Besides, children hearing their parents fervently implore the grace of God for
them, is a likely means to awaken them to a sense of the value of the grace of
God, and to move them to pray for it themselves. A young lady, who had been
piously brought up, but up to the time of her marriage had not imbibed anything
of the spirit of her pious parents; who had daily heard their fervent prayers,
but had never joined in them with a heart-felt interest—when she entered the
house of her husband, and found that family prayer was not observed, became
wretched and desolate for the lack of it. She was led to see the value of the
privileges she had hitherto slighted, and the infinite importance of a personal
interest in the salvation, of which she had so often heard with indifference.
Her convictions were deep and lasting. She became, from that time, a decided
Christian, and deeply anxious for the spiritual welfare of her husband and her
household. In this respect her prayers were heard, and her endeavors succeeded.
Her husband joined her in the way to Zion, and their children and household were
taught and commanded after them to keep the ways of the Lord. What a rich reward
to her pious parents, who had for so many years gone forth sowing precious seed,
and weeping in the fear that it was devoured by the fowls of the air, or rotting
beneath the clods! "5. We have intercessions to make for others. Perhaps some of
the family are at a distance, for the purposes of health, business, or
education. These should be recommended in prayer to the grace of God. Perhaps
relations dear to all the family are in circumstances of sickness, danger, or
distress. God should be sought unto on their behalf for support and deliverance.
The benefit of prayer can extend far. He who hears prayer—can extend the hand of
his power and mercy to the utmost corners of the earth, and to them that are
afar off upon the seas. Beside this, we should pray for the land we dwell in,
and make supplication for the king and all in authority. Our children should go
forth into life with the testimony lodged in their bosom, of the loyalty and
patriotism of their parents. Then every Christian family should pray for the
peace of Jerusalem. They shall prosper, who love Zion; and the real saint looks
forward with the greatest pleasure to seeing his children’s children, when it is
coupled with peace upon Israel. Then there is the world which lies in
wickedness; and while we think of the mercies our families enjoy, we must be
stimulated to pray for the families in bondage and slavery, in ignorance and
idolatry; and the remembrance of them in our family prayers will stimulate us
and our families to do what we can for their relief, and engage the divine
blessing, by which alone our efforts can be rendered successful. "The habit of
family prayer is of great value as a check to sin, and a pledge for consistency
of conduct. ’Praying will make a man leave off sinning—or sinning will make him
leave off praying.’ He who daily meets his family in prayer, will be induced to
check the rising temper, and to suppress the angry expression, that would be
inconsistent with his prayer for meekness, gentleness, and self-possession. He
will be ashamed to say or do anything that his prayers would reproach. "Family
prayer tends greatly to secure family order, harmony, and subordination. It
often places a happy restraint on the giddy and headstrong passions of youth.
Family prayer often fixes something in the minds of children, which, in after
life, perhaps when the parents are far distant, or dead, springs up as a shield
against temptation, or an encouragement to return, after long wandering, to a
refuge, to which the wanderer remembers his parents used to resort. "Some would
object that they have not time for family prayer. They have forgotten the true
sayings, ’Prayer and provender hinder no journey;’ ’There is nothing got by
sinning—or lost by praying.’ ’Work for earth is done best—when work for heaven
is done first.’ The busiest have most need to pray for composure of mind in the
midst of a bustle, and for strength of body and mind to discharge their various
duties. ’There is a season for everything, and a time for every purpose under
the sun;’ and surely the most important purpose of all need not be shut out of
this wise regulation. By order, economy, and diligence, time might be redeemed,
in every family, for the necessary duty of family prayer; and the habits of
order, diligence, and regularity, thus acquired and cultivated, would soon be
found more than to make up for the time given to devotion. "Some plead their
lack of ability. They would not make this an excuse if they could not have a
mouthful of food, until they had prayed for it: ’where there is a will, there is
a way;’ and where there is a sincere desire to pray, though the words be few and
simple, even should they be confused and broken, the exercise will be neither
unacceptable nor unprofitable. ’A heart without words—is better than words
without a heart.’ "Lack of capacity is too often an excuse, for lack of
inclination. Those who begin in humble distrust of their own ability, will find
their ability increase by exercise. Besides, there are many excellent forms of
prayer for those who need them, and in the use of which many truly pious people
have found their devotional feelings kindled, and their spirits greatly
refreshed. "Some have so long neglected the duty of family prayer, that they are
ashamed to begin. Here is a saying for them too: ’Better late than never!’ ’It
is a shame to neglect a duty—but never a shame to return to it.’ When family
prayer is omitted—the sweetest bond of family union is lacking. There is a
continual need of something to calm the mind under the daily hurries,
irritations and disappointments or life. If these needs and inconveniences begin
to be felt, now is the proper time for setting about to meet them. Let shame and
indolence, and every other opposing influence, be set aside; let the duty of
family worship be this day set up in the house under feelings of deep contrition
for the guilt of past neglect, with earnest supplications for pardon through the
blood of Christ, and for the gracious influences of the Holy Spirit to enable
you to persevere in the path of duty; and then (as it was said to the Jews, to
encourage them to build the temple, a work which they had long neglected) take
notice whether from this day forward, God does not remarkably bless you in all
you have and do."


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  CHAPTER 5: F - SECTION 5
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The Family at Home Familiar Illustrations of Various Domestic Duties by Gorham
D. Abbott, 1833

Section 5 ADVICE TO YOUNG TRADESMEN It is often the case, that when a young man
first sets up in business, he needs advice. I here insert a little for the
benefit of such. "In order to succeed in business, it is absolutely necessary
that you should maintain the character and appearance of an honest man. The
easiest and most effectual way of doing this, is to be really so. If principles
of strict integrity reign in the heart, there will be no little tricks and
deceits to conceal and glaze over, in words or actions. It is the most honorable
and valuable character which can be established by a young tradesman; and a
certificate which will carry him through life. ’He is thoroughly upright and
transparent in all his dealings; he is incapable of an action that could raise a
blush on his countenance, if all the world beheld it.’ "Let your standard of
honesty and integrity not merely be to keep clear of those things that would
expose you to disgrace and punishment; but do nothing to your neighbor or your
customer, that you would not think upright if he did the like to you. The golden
rule of our Lord Jesus Christ, if universally acted upon, would set aside
quarrels and lawsuits. There may be a few cases, in which people do not know
what is legally right, and may find it necessary to consult a lawyer; but
ninety-nine cases out of a hundred begin in a failure of attending to this rule,
and are carried on in determined opposition to it. "Detest the petty acts of
fraud by short weights and measures, by delivering goods inferior to sample, or
by making incorrect entries in your book. ’Divers weights and divers measures
are an abomination unto the Lord.’ "Punctuality is a great friend both to
integrity and peace. Therefore, deliver and receive all things by exact number,
weight, or measure; and take regular accounts of all things sent out or received
in. "For everything you buy or sell, rent or hire, make an exact bargain at
first, and neither allow nor practice the common evasion, ’Never mind the price;
we sha’nt disagree about trifles.’ This is a common source of disagreement, and
often an intentional cloak for fraud. "Let your books be always kept in such a
state as would be no disgrace to yourself, or injury or trouble to others, if
sudden death should throw them into the hands of your executors, or unexpected
calamity should put them in the power of your creditors. "Be diligent to know
the state of your own affairs. Do not deceive yourself by getting in a good
stock, and thinking your shop is well filled, and you have good debts on your
books, and ready money for your use, while you have not paid your wholesale
dealer. Have your accounts so that you can tell at one view what you owe, what
you possess, and what is due to you, and then reckon your own property at less
than half the balance that stands in your favor. "Never forfeit a good
conscience, or a good name, for the sake of gain. The gain will be found but
momentary, the injury as lasting as life. Honesty is always the best policy.
Wise men take things in the long run; and they know very well, that to get ten
pounds a-year, for life, is better than to get twenty or thirty by one crafty
action. To the very poorest a good character is better than ten pounds a-year,
and will be found worth more than that in the long run. Let the poor,
struggling, honest man look back, and he will find reason to say, ’I got such a
one’s work, and such a one’s good will, and such a one’s assistance, by bearing
an unblemished character. Where would I have been without a good name for
honesty?’ While the crafty, unprincipled man is often obliged to think, though
he does not choose to say, ’Such an advantage I lost, because I was looked upon
with suspicion; such an appointment would have been mine, but they did not like
to trust me; I might at this moment have been a richer man, if I had strictly
kept to the paths of integrity.’ Craft generally outwits itself; as the wise man
says, ’The wisdom of the prudent is to understand his way; but the folly of
fools is deceit.’ How true are the sayings, ’Tricks and treachery are the
practice of fools, who have not sense enough to be honest!’ ’That which is
unjustly gained, will prove like a barbed arrow, wounding the conscience as it
enters, and, still more, the character, when it is torn back with violence.’ "If
you wish to maintain a clear conscience and a good name, avoid the very common
crime of defrauding government. In all your dealings, whatever duties are
levied, or taxes required, let them be punctually rendered, according to the
scripture precept, ’Render to all their dues; tax to whom tax is due; custom to
whom custom.’ Many people, who imagine themselves very honest, think, ’it is no
crime to cheat the king.’ But there are, at least, three principles on which the
dishonesty of such conduct is very evident— Government must be supported; and
everyone who shares the protection of government, is bound to contribute his
share towards its support. Then, if a certain sum is to be raised among a
certain number of people, and if one or more evade paying their share, the
deficiency must be made up among the remainder. So, the person who says there is
no harm in cheating the king, is, in fact, guilty of cheating the whole
community. Then, again, the tradesman who evades any duty, is especially guilty
of injustice to other tradesmen in the same line of business. If they pay the
duty which he evades, he is enabled to undersell them; or, if he maintains their
price, he gains a much larger profit, and so an end is put to all fair
competition. In addition to this, it may be observed, that those who begin by
smuggling, or in any way defrauding government, generally go on to acts of
private fraud. Their conscience is hardened; they are in the daily practice of
deeds at which they would once have revolted; they become selfish and ungenerous
in all their habits; integrity and respectability are forever sacrificed. "Avoid
as much as possible either taking or giving credit. Nothing establishes the
character of a young tradesman more than applying his first returns of ready
money to paying debts before they become due, and taking the discount. Many a
young tradesman has been ruined by allowing his customers to run up bills with
him, which they were unable to pay, and he, in consequence, has been unable to
meet the demands of his wholesale dealers. Never seek to promote your own
interest by injuring a brother tradesman. It is a common saying, ’Two of a trade
can never agree;’ but this ought not to be the case, especially among those who
profess to be under the influence of true religion: ’Live, and let live,’ ’The
world is wide enough for us both,’ are much better sayings. Those who maintain
uprightness, candor, and good feeling, may live in the same town, and carry on
their respective operations in perfect harmony, and find, in the end, that their
mutual interests have been promoted by such a course. But any spiteful attempt
to injure a brother tradesman will generally meet the reward that Solomon speaks
of, ’He who rolls a stone, it shall return upon him.’ "In a certain small town
there were two tradesmen in the same line of business. A nobleman in the
neighborhood wished to give equal business to every honest tradesman, and
directed that the business of his house should be divided between the two. Both
these men were of a sly and spiteful disposition, and each endeavored to
undermine the other. Whenever an order was given, or a bill was paid, the one
who received it took the opportunity of hinting something to the disadvantage of
his neighbor. After endeavoring for several years to cure them of this baseness
and malignity, the nobleman became so much disgusted that he took away his
custom from both, encouraged a third to set up in the town, and both the former
were ruined. "Be faithful and punctual to your employers. Never crib the
articles entrusted to you to make or repair, nor run them to needless expense,
for the sake of lengthening your bill. Never draw people in to put a job into
your hands, by intimating that the expense will be smaller than you know will
really be the case. Such tricks will not serve more than once or twice. "Never
promise customers to get their work done by a certain time, which you know it is
impossible to accomplish. Many tradesmen, unwilling to turn away a job, will
promise one and another, that their work shall be sure to be done by the time
desired, at the same time well knowing that almost everyone of them must be
disappointed. The wives of some tradesmen will boast of their ingenuity in
inventing falsehoods to appease an angry customer whom their husband has
disappointed. It need scarcely be added, that such tradesmen soon lose their
best customers, as well as forfeit their integrity and respectability. An
eminently pious tradesman said, ’For many, many years, I have never omitted this
supplication in my morning prayer, ’Let integrity and uprightness preserve me,
for I wait on You.’ His prayer was heard and answered; amidst every trial he was
preserved in peace of mind; and maintained a character for integrity that the
bitterest enemies of religion dared not impeach. "Integrity is the young
tradesman’s first requisite, and industry the second. He must keep his shop, if
he wishes his shop to keep him. Rise early in the morning. ’The early bird
catches the worm.’ ’Early to bed, and early to rise, Is the way to be healthy,
wealthy, and wise.’ ’Sloth makes all things difficult; but industry makes all
things easy.’ ’Let your shop be open, and your hammer be heard, the first in the
street.’ There is no time when the hands and spirits are so nimble, and when all
is so free from interruption, as early in the morning; therefore, ’Take time by
the forelock, for he is bald behind.’ ’One today is worth two tomorrows.’ ’Defer
not until tomorrow, what should be done today, else you will have a day’s work
the more to do, and a day less to do it in.’ But rather, if you have something
that must be done tomorrow, strive if possible to do it today, and ’drive your
business, rather than let your business drive you.’ ’He who rises late, may trot
hard all day, and shall scarcely overtake his business by night; while Laziness
travels so slowly that Poverty soon overtakes him.’ It is a common saying that,
’Diligence is the mother of good luck.’ We do not talk about good luck, for we
know there is no such thing, but that all is under the direction of a wise and
righteous Providence; but we know also the Book that says, ’The hand of the
diligent makes rich.’ ’Love not sleep, lest you come to poverty; open your eyes,
and you shall be satisfied with bread.’ The blessing of God is commonly seen to
rest on honest industry. Therefore, ’Plough deep while sluggards sleep, And you
shall have corn to sell and to keep.’ "Let the following sacred proverbs be
deeply engraved on your memory: ’The way of the slothful man is as a hedge of
thorns, but the way of the righteous shall be made plain.’ ’Slothfulness casts
into a deep sleep, and an idle soul shall suffer hunger.’ ’The sluggard will not
plough, by reason of the cold; therefore he shall beg in harvest, and have
nothing.’ ’The desire of the slothful kills him, for his hands refuse to labor.’
"The slothful man says, ’There is a lion outside, I shall be slain in the
street.’" ’I went past the field of the sluggard, past the vineyard of the man
who lacks judgment; thorns had come up everywhere, the ground was covered with
weeds, and the stone wall was in ruins. I applied my heart to what I observed
and learned a lesson from what I saw: A little sleep, a little slumber, a little
folding of the hands to rest—and poverty will come on you like a bandit and
scarcity like an armed man.’ Proverbs 24:30-34 "The very appearance of diligence
is advantageous. The young tradesman should always be found at home, and in some
way employed. Busy, meddling neighbors have their eyes always open. You had
better weigh and measure your old stock, than let them see you doing nothing.
Indeed, it is no bad plan to spend your leisure moments in weighing out pounds
or ounces of such things as take no injury, and it is a great saving of time in
the bustle of market-day. The very principle and habit of finding a handy little
job to fill up every vacant minute, is of great value. "The young tradesman’s
three best instructors are Necessity, Habit, and Time: from these everything may
be learned, common sense alone excepted, the peculiar and rarest gift of
Providence. At his starting in life, Necessity teaches him that if he hopes to
live, he must labor; Habit turns the labor into ease, and Time gives to every
man an hour for everything, unless he chooses to throw it away. "Beware of
pride; it has been the bane of many a promising young tradesman: ’pride often
breakfasts with plenty, dines with poverty, and sups with infamy.’ If you wish
your business to befriend you—never be too proud to own your friend. Wear an
apron, if such be the custom of your business, and consider it rather a badge of
distinction than a mark of disgrace. It will gain you respect and credit with
the wise and good. Let there be no part of your business, however inferior,
which you do not thoroughly understand, and to which you cannot turn your hand,
if occasion require. "If you have men or boys employed under you, be among them
early and late; ’the master’s eye does more than both his hands!’ Much waste and
fraud would never have been practiced, if servants could not have ensured
themselves with ’Master won’t be up for this hour or two,’ or, ’Master is safe
enough at the public-house.’ Not to oversee workmen, is to leave them your open
purse. Trusting too much to others, is the ruin of many. ’He who by the plough
would thrive, Himself must either hold or drive.’ ’If you would have your
business talked of—send someone else. If you would have it done—go and do it
yourself! If you would be sure of a faithful servant, serve yourself.’ These are
the sayings of a philosopher, who gained his knowledge, not from books, but men.
"If you would wish to prosper, do not despise small jobs or little customers.
You are not to expect, as soon as you set up shop, that people will leave their
old tradesmen, and deal with you; and yet they may sometimes send to you for a
small article, or to do some little thing in haste. Receive their orders civilly
and thankfully, and take as much pains to do them well, as if they were ten
times as great. You will get your proportion of profit; and these little things
may lead to greater—perhaps, in time, to the whole custom of the parties who
came at first to your shop on some little two penny errand, for mere
convenience. But the carpenter, shoemaker, or tailor, who rudely scorns a little
mending job, from those who do not employ him on new work, stands a fair chance
of driving away all his customers, both little and great, new and old. "You may
sometimes meet with those who do not treat you with as much courtesy as you
think you have a right to expect. It might be very natural for you to resent
these little indignities, but it will be much more for your peace and advantage
if you pass them by: the noble lion is not soon roused to resentment, but the
insignificant cur is always ready to snarl and bark. There is much true dignity,
as well as sound wisdom, in passing by little affronts. But in order to this,
the pride of corrupt nature must be mortified; ’that would break a proud man’s
heart, which would hardly break a humble man’s slumber.’ "The celebrated
Benjamin Franklin, many of whose maxims are here recorded, was early instructed
in this useful lesson, ’Learn to stoop.’ Having called on the Rev. Cotton
Mather, that gentleman, when he took his leave, proposed to show him a shorter
way out of the house. It was through a narrow passage, crossed by a beam
overhead: as they were still talking, Mr. Mather hastily said to his young
friend, ’Stoop! stoop!’ He did not understand the warning, until he struck his
head against the beam. On this, Mr. Mather observed to him, ’You are young, and
have the world before you; stoop as you go through it, and you will miss many
hard thumps.’ ’This advice,’ said Franklin, many years afterwards, ’thus beat
into my head, has frequently been of use to me; and I often think of it, when I
see pride, and misfortunes brought upon people, by carrying their heads too
high.’ ’Pride goes before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall,’ and
’before honor is humility.’ "Beware of false dependences and sudden elevations;
go steadily on, laboring and earning, buying and selling, and ’be content to
spend a penny less than your clear gains.’ Many have been ruined by calculating
on an expected legacy, or an extraordinary run of business. As to legacies,
never think about them until you have actually got them. If you do, you may be
insensibly led into expenses, which your present circumstances do not justify,
and which future circumstances never may; and instead of being benefitted by
occasional gain, you may be exposed to financial embarrassments through life. In
like manner, if a peculiar season, or some public change of peace or war, should
give you a brisk and prosperous run of trade, remember that it will not last
always. Be not hasty in enlarging your expenses, or making a more showy
appearance on the strength of it. Let extra gains go quietly towards increasing
your capital, and then they may prove a real and permanent advantage; but if
spent on appearance or present gratification, they will only excite in yourself
a taste for indulgences and gratifications, that you cannot continue to enjoy,
and in your neighbors an estimate of your circumstances which truth and time
will not support. "Always act by a plan. It is said, ’A good contriver is better
than an early riser.’ Now, early rising is a piece of good contrivance, that no
person of good character will ever omit. Those who waste their morning hours in
bed, are generally notorious for indolence and ill-management throughout the
day. Indeed, their life is a scene of lazy bustle and laborious confusion.
However, though every good contriver is an early riser—it does not follow that
every early riser is a good contriver. The great matter is—to have an allotted
and profitable employment for every hour of the day, and something always at
hand to fill up the odd minutes. Much time may be wasted in considering what to
set about next; and much time frittered in pursuits not worthy our attention. As
every shred of gold is precious, so is every moment of time. Time is the stuff
that life is made of, and he who wastes his moments is a kind of self-murderer.
He does not live so long as he might do. Remember, ’time is money;’ if you
loiter away an hour, you might just as well, perhaps better, throw away the
money you might have earned in that hour. If you spend an hour or half a day in
amusements, you must reckon that it costs you, not merely the money you pay, but
the money you neglect to earn; and you ought also to take into account the
offence given to neglected customers, and the loss of character sustained. "Do
not be regardless of appearance, or of the remarks that are made of you. Every
man may command respect. If he conducts himself well, bad people may hate or
envy, but they cannot despise him; and all good people feel a pleasure in
manifesting respect towards one whose character is respectable. A wise man will
neither seek nor despise a good reputation. He does right, because it is right;
and in so doing, he finds the advantage of being reputed to do so, in the
confidence and respect he gains. But he who despises what men may say; is likely
to be very careless whether he does right or wrong. It is an advantage to a
young tradesman, and will be found to set him higher in the esteem, both of his
creditors and his customers, to have it known that he spends his evenings at
home with his family, and his Sabbaths at the house of God, than if his voice
were heard in the tavern, or at the billiard table, or skittle ground. "Wherever
a man goes, his good or his bad character will be sure to fly before him, or at
least to tread on his heels. Character will rather generally be grounded on
small habits, than on great acts. "Idleness leads to extravagance: for that
reason they are often coupled together in the book of Proverbs: thus, ’he who is
slothful is brother to him that is a great waster;’ ’the drunkard and the
glutton shall come to poverty, and drowsiness shall clothe a man with rags.’
"Shun a public-house; it is the grave of a tradesman’s respectability and
prosperity, and a snare to his soul. Avoid making bargains or paying wages in a
public-house; the very appearance is not creditable, and the habit is highly
injurious. Form no connection with a club that holds its meetings at a
public-house. Savings banks and life insurances will answer your purpose better,
and neither cost you a farthing in drink, nor run the hazard of exciting in you
a love of liquor. There are two houses which a thrifty young tradesman will
never enter—the public-house or liquor-shop, and the pawnbroker’s. Every pound
borrowed at the pawnbroker’s amounts, in the course of a year, to at least three
pounds, and sometimes (according to circumstances) to as much as sixteen pounds.
This may seem incredible, but it is a fact. "Every pound spent at the
public-house should be reckoned as two pounds, at the end of three years, and
sixteen pounds, at the end of twenty-four years. Many a tradesman who complains
that he cannot get on for lack of capital, forgets how much capital he has
wasted by littles. ’He who despises small things, shall fall little by little.’
Do not say it is only a penny, only a shilling; but remember that ’a penny a day
is a groat a year, and a groat a day is six pounds a year.’ Besides, if a groat
a day be spent the first year, sixpence a day will hardly suffice for the second
year; and so a man may go on spending, until what would keep his family in bread
and grocery, shall scarcely suffice for his own selfish and sensual expenses.
Many a good estate has been swallowed from a wine glass! Well has the wise man
said, ’He who loves pleasure shall be a poor man; he who loves wine and oil
shall not be rich.’ "The young tradesman who wishes to thrive, must avoid all
needless expenses, both in his shop, his person, and his household concerns.
There is nothing got by ostentatious display in the fitting up of your shop.
Every sensible customer says, ’I must pay for part of this finery.’ The
cleanness of your shop windows is much more likely to attract profitable notice
than the size of the panes; and the neat and tasty selection and arrangement of
your goods, than the mahogany counters on which they are served. "Every
tradesman should maintain a clean, neat, and respectable appearance; but if he
becomes foppish and extravagant in his dress, he will be suspected of either
imposing on his customers, or of running the way to his own ruin; and except
frugality presides over all his personal and household expenses, whatever be his
gains, his ruin is certain. "In order to secure economy in the management of
household expenses, as well as many other important advantages, it will be his
wisdom to choose an industrious, prudent and discreet wife, rather than a showy
one. For in vain will he earn and spare—if she is wasteful and extravagant! He
who has an extravagant wife, as the saying is, ’may keep his nose to the
grindstone all his life, and not leave a dollar behind him at last.’ ’A fat
kitchen, makes a lean will.’ "Check the first inclination in yourself or your
wife, to lay out money on selfish gratifications. ’Those who buy superfluities
are likely soon to sell necessaries.’ ’Silks and satins put out the kitchen
fire.’ Do not be induced to buy things merely because they are offered cheap—’a
cheap bargain is a pick-pocket!’ When you feel inclined to buy anything, it will
not take long to ask yourself the following questions, and may be the means of
saving you from ruin— "Can I afford it? "Is it fit and becoming to my station in
life? "Could I do very well without it? "Might not the money be used for a
better purpose? "Many families, for the sake of a fine showy appearance, endure
the lack of real comforts; their miserable, confined, ill-furnished bed-chambers
and kitchen, but poorly agree with their drawing-rooms and sofas, their ribbons
and feathers. But, as the saying is, ’pride is as loud a beggar as poverty, and
a great deal more saucy.’ ’When you have bought one fine thing, you must buy ten
more—that your appearance may be unified.’ It is easier, therefore, to suppress
the first desire—than to satisfy all that follow it. "Beware of the folly of
hankering after things, either in dress or furniture, merely because your
neighbor has them; perhaps his means are above yours; if they are, you would
only make yourself as ridiculous as the frog in the fable—who killed himself in
trying to swell as large as the ox. If your neighbor’s means are not larger than
your own—there is no reason why you should make a fool of yourself merely
because he chooses to do so. Those who strive to make an appearance above their
circumstances, are often reduced to seek assistance of those who are content
with living a little below their circumstances. And so ’a ploughman on his legs,
is higher than a gentleman on his knees.’ "If you have a little money in hand,
and are tempted to take a little for costly foods, and a little for fine
clothes, and a little for grand entertainments; remember that ’many a
little—makes a mickle (that is—a large sum).’ ’A small leak will soon sink a
great ship.’ ’If you are always taking out of the meal tub, and never putting
in, you will soon come to the bottom.’ If you act thus, and come to poverty,
don’t be laying the blame on bad times and heavy taxes! ’You are taxed twice as
much by your idleness, three times as much by your pride, and four times as much
by your folly! And from these taxes, the commissioners cannot ease or deliver
you by making an abatement.’ "’My neighbor,’ says one, ’had a terrible itching
for bargains.’ ’Never mind,’ he used to say, ’I’ll have that, it will not ruin
me. Give me that other thing—it is dirt cheap. I don’t much need these things,
but I may use them occasionally.’ He was sadly wrong here—he filled his house
with useless lumber, and made good the saying, ’Feather by feather, the goose
was plucked!’ "One great evil of extravagance is, that it leads to running in
debt. He who, having ready money, cannot resist the temptation to spend it on
superfluities; when he has no ready money, is more likely to run in debt than to
deny himself; and then what follows? You will be ashamed to see your creditor,
ashamed to speak to him, and driven to make poor, pitiful, sneaking excuses,
until you come by degrees to lose all principle, and sink into base, downright
lying, as it has been well said, ’Lying rides on debt’s back!’ ’The second vice
is lying, the first is running in debt.’ ’It is hard for an empty bag to stand
upright.’ "Poverty, brought on by extravagance, often deprives a man of all
spirit and virtue. Very different is this, from honest poverty; a poor man, his
wife, and family, may labor hard and fare hard, perhaps go to bed supperless;
but when he rises, he feels that he owes no man anything, and goes forth
cheerfully to earn the daily bread in its day, happy to think that he is not
burdened with the expenses of yesterday. And if he begins with one honest penny
in his pocket, he feels himself a little prince, compared with that man, who,
for past gratifications, is suffering nightly disturbances and daily
apprehensions. The way to be rich and respectable is to ’let industry make a
purse, and frugality find strings to it. Let the strings only be drawn as
frugality dictates, and there will always be found a useful penny at the
bottom.’ "The prosperous young tradesman is generally one whom his customers
find at home. If a customer calls again and again, without seeing the master, it
is likely he will seek business elsewhere. Many a good order has been lost, for
lack of the master being in the shop, to make hay while the sun shines. ’As a
bird that wanders from her nest, so is a man that wanders from his place.’ All
his plans are likely to be defeated, and the whole to issue in a failure.
"Whatever is amiss in your circumstances, do not indulge a restless,
discontented spirit, and try to lay the blame anywhere but on yourself. It is
bad enough if you have brought yourself to ruin, but if you realize that it was
because of your own folly—by all means cherish the conviction rather than stifle
it, for after all it affords the best hope of mending matters. Surely you have
more power to correct your own follies—than the follies of other people.
Industry and patience can remedy almost any common grievance; but discontent and
despair only increase them. ’The foolishness of man perverts his way, and his
heart frets against the Lord.’ Instead of indulging this repining spirit, submit
yourself; humble yourself under the mighty hand of God; acknowledge that you
have deserved all you suffer, and much more. Resolve to act differently for the
future, and beg of God to give you strength and grace to keep your resolutions.
Let the fear of God rule in your heart; this will make you think well and act
well, and when you most need it and least expect it, God may raise you up a
friend, or open to you a way of deliverance. "Do not meddle with politics. I
never knew a young tradesman either do good or get good, who was fond of
political debates or newspapers. ’Fear the Lord and the king, and meddle not
with those who are given to change.’ ’Let God govern the world, and the king the
nation—and mind your own business!’ "If you wish to prosper, you must be
persevering as well as industrious. Be not discouraged if you do not at first
enjoy as much success as you could desire, but try again and again, still humbly
depending on the blessing of God, and sooner or later you will in some measure
succeed, perhaps far beyond your present expectation. One great man was
encouraged to perseverance by observing a spider, which, in attempting to reach
the beam on which to fix its web, failed twelve times, but succeeded the
thirteenth. Another person, when forced to take shelter from the pursuit of his
enemies, concealed himself in a ruined building, and remained there several
hours. While meditating on his hopeless condition, he saw a little ant carrying
up a high wall a grain of corn much larger than itself. He numbered the efforts
made by this diligent little creature to accomplish its object; sixty-nine times
the grain fell to the ground, but the seventieth time the ant successfully
reached the top of the wall. The lesson thus imparted was never forgotten. "It
is greatly to the honor of a young tradesman, instead of consuming all the gains
of his industry—to lay aside a portion for old age or sickness. ’For age and
want, save while you may; No summer’s sun lasts a whole day.’ Lay up while
young, and you will find it when you are old. A prudent care and savings may be
cherished, without yielding to a selfish or distrustful spirit. "But with all
your industry, perseverance, and good management, guard against
worldly-mindedness. ’Are you seeking great things for yourself? Seek them not!’
’Labor not to be rich; cease from your own wisdom. Will you set your heart upon
that which is not? for riches certainly make themselves wings; they fly away as
an eagle towards heaven!’ Money is only valuable for the good it will procure;
in itself, it is very unworthy, and unsatisfying, and uncertain. Unsanctified
riches are a curse! ’Those who will be rich, fall into temptation and a snare,
and into many foolish and hurtful lusts, which drown men in perdition and
destruction!’ While laboring diligently, never forget the solemn question, ’What
will it profit a man, if he gains the whole world, and loses his own soul? What
shall a man give in exchange for his soul?’ In your pursuit of wealth, never be
drawn to neglect the one thing needful, or to waste time, especially sacred
time, from the concerns of your soul. ’Prayer and provender hinder no journey.’
Real success will never attend that cause on which the blessing of God is not
sought; but the blessing of God is seen to rest, in an especial manner, on that
house in which the worship of God is maintained, and his sanctuary frequented;
while those who have been induced, for the sake of worldly gain—to slacken their
attendance on pious duties—have generally fallen, both in property and
enjoyment, instead of rising. "Never forget your entire dependence on
Providence. Though the advice here given is consistent with sound reason and
sacred wisdom—do not depend too much on your own industry, frugality, and
prudence, though excellent things, for they may be blasted without the blessing
of God! Therefore, seek that blessing humbly, and be not uncharitable to those
who at present seem to need it—but comfort and help them.’ "’Unless the Lord
builds the house, its builders labor in vain. Unless the Lord watches over the
city, the watchmen stand guard in vain. In vain you rise early and stay up late,
toiling for food to eat.’ Constantly remember the Lord your God, for it is He
who gives you power to get wealth, or who in wisdom withholds it. It is He who
appoints your straits or your sufficiency. In either, his blessing alone can
make truly rich and happy. The only security for a blessing, on either
prosperity or adversity, is in being found among those ’for whom all things work
together for good, even those who love God, and are the called according to his
purpose.’ "Now the question is—whether all this good advice will be taken heed
to, or whether it will be allowed to run off—like water from a duck’s back. We
can give counsel, but we cannot give conduct. ’One man can lead a horse to the
water, but twenty cannot make him drink.’ Remember, that ’those who will not be
counseled, cannot be helped,’ and ’if you will not hear reason, she is likely to
rap your knuckles.’ ’Therefore, hear counsel, and receive instruction, that you
may be wise in your latter end. Keep sound wisdom and discretion, so shall they
be life to your soul, and grace to your neck.’ ’For the Lord detests a perverse
man but takes the upright into his confidence. The Lord’s curse is on the house
of the wicked, but he blesses the home of the righteous. He mocks proud mockers
but gives grace to the humble. The wise inherit honor, but fools he holds up to
shame.’ Proverbs 3:32-35 The following is part of a letter from Rev. James
Hervey to his brother, while he was an apprentice— "As soon as you are
apprenticed, you are at your master’s disposal, and not at your own. He has then
a right to your hands, your strength, and ALL that you can do. He becomes a sort
of parent to you; and though not a natural, yet a legal father. You are also
obliged, not only by the laws of your country, and the tenor of your indentures,
but by the fifth commandment of God, to pay him all due submission and honor. To
do this is a most material part of your duty as a Christian, as well as your
undeniable debt as an apprentice. It is required of you by God, in Holy
Scripture, and you must not once imagine that you do what is pleasing to him
unless you conscientiously perform it. Now, that you may know what it is that
your master will expect from you, and what it is that the Lord has enjoined you
with regard to him, remember it consists, first, in respect of his person;
secondly, in obedience to his commands; and, thirdly, in faithfulness in his
business. "First, in respect of his person. You must esteem him very highly for
his superiority’s sake and the authority he has under God. For God, who made
you, and has an uncontrollable power over you, has communicated some of that
power to your master; so that you are to look upon him as the representative, in
some sort, of the divine majesty, and invested with some of his authority.
Accordingly, Paul says, 1 Timothy 6:1, ’You must count him worthy of all honor;’
all, that is, internal and external, that of the actions and words, as well as
that of the heart. It is not enough to maintain a worthy estimation inwardly,
but you must let it appear on all occasions outwardly, by behaving yourself very
obligingly to him before his face, and by speaking very respectfully of him
behind his back. Suppose you should discern failings and infirmities in him, you
must by no means divulge them, or make yourself merry with them, much less must
you dare neglect any of his orders. Whatever you have reason to think will
grieve or displease him, or will be harmful or offensive to him—that you must
cautiously forbear. "Secondly, obedience to his commands. See how full the
apostle speaks to this purpose, Colossians 3:22. ’Servants, obey in all things
your masters according to the flesh.’ Observe, likewise, from this passage, not
only the necessity, but also the compass and latitude of your obedience—how
large and extensive it is. It reaches not barely to a few, but to all and every
instance. If you should receive orders that are ever so much against the grain
of your own inclination, you must force yourself to comply with them; receive
them as you used to do with bitter medicines; though they may be unpleasant at
first, they will do you good, and be comfortable to you afterwards. Your own
pleasure must always stoop, and give way to your master’s. If he sets you a task
that is low and ignoble, and such as (according to the expression of the world)
is beneath a gentleman’s son—do not hesitate, dear brother, but despatch it
cheerfully. Remember who has said, ’Servants, obey your masters in all things.’
And, oh! remember that, however well born and bred we are, yet He who was higher
than the highest of us all, even the most excellent and illustrious person who
ever lived, condescended to the lowest and (such as our fine folks would
account) most shameful offices. The Lord Jesus Christ, though ’the brightness of
his Father’s glory,’ did not disdain to wash his disciples’ feet. Neither be
dejected because you are treated in an unworthy manner, or set to do some base
and low office for your master, or his family; but rejoice rather in that you
are made like unto your Redeemer, and in the happy prospect you will have of
becoming great in heaven—by being little on earth. I am aware that this piece of
advice is not so striking as the rest; but never forget that the things which
are most highly esteemed by God, are held in least repute by men. I know, and am
sure, that if any apprentice would make such a compliance for the sake of
preserving peace, and out of conscience to the command of God, and with an eye
to the example of Christ, there is a day coming when he will not repent of it;
when it will not be deemed a blot in his character, but be ’an ornament of grace
to his head, and more lovely than chains about his neck.’ (Proverbs 1:9.) Well,
you see your obedience must be universal; you must come when he calls you—and go
where he bids you; do all that he commands you—and let alone all that he forbids
you. This must, moreover, be done, not grudgingly, or of necessity, but readily
and gladly. Hear what the scripture says, ’Whatever you do, do it heartily’
(Colossians 3:23;) and again, ’with good will doing service’ (Ephesians 6:7;) so
that we must not creep, but be quick and expeditious in our business, however
disagreeable. You must not go about it with grumbling words and muttering in
your mouth, but with so satisfied a a disposition, as may show that you are
pleased with whatever pleases your master. "Thirdly, in faithfulness in his
business. This is the last branch of your duty to your master; and since Moses
has obtained an honorable testimony on this account, be you also ’faithful in
all his house.’ (Hebrews 3:5.) You may find this, as indeed all the
qualifications of a good servant, described by Paul, Titus 2:10, ’Not to steal
from them, but to show that they can be fully trusted, so that in every way they
will make the teaching about God our Savior attractive.’ You are charged not to
steal, that is, not to keep back from your master, nor to put into your own
pocket, nor convert to your own use—any of that money which, in the way of
trade, passes through your hands. You were taught from your childhood to keep
your hands from picking and stealing, and I hope you abhor such abominable
practices from the bottom of your heart. You must not sell at a cheaper rate,
and buy at a dearer rate, in order to have some valuable consideration made you
privily in your own person. These differ from robbing on the highway, only in
being less open and notorious; but they are flagrant acts of dishonesty, and
will cry to Heaven for vengeance! Such tricks and villainies do the same thing
by craft and treachery, as housebreakers do by force and violence. Therefore,
dear brother, renounce, detest, and fly from them—as much as from fire, arrows,
and death! Besides, you are not only to abstain from such clandestine knavery,
but also to show all good fidelity. What is meant by this you may understand by
reading how Joseph conducted himself in Potiphar’s service. Your master, it is
likely, will commit the management of some of his affairs to you; and you must
endeavor, by a discreet behavior and a pious life—to bring the blessing of the
Lord upon all that you take in hand. You must lay out your time, and your labor,
and give all diligence to answer the trust reposed in you. You must not delay
the business which is urgent, nor do your work by halves, nor transfer that to
others—which it is expected you should do yourself. ’One who is slack in his
work is brother to one who destroys.’ Therefore you must avoid idleness and
carelessness. In a word, you must do nothing knowingly and willfully, which is
likely to impoverish your master, but seek by all lawful and laudable means to
increase his substance. All this you must observe, not only when he stands by
you, and inspects you—but when his back is turned, and you are removed from his
view. Otherwise your service is nothing but eye-service, such as will prove
odious to man, and is already condemned by God. For if you appear to be
industrious, and in earnest, before your master—and loiter and trifle when out
of his sight—you will be chargeable with hypocrisy, a sin extremely hateful to
Christ, and grievously pernicious to the soul. But I am afraid I tire you; this
one sentence, therefore, and I am done. You must carry yourself, throughout the
whole course of your apprenticeship, so respectfully, so obediently, so
faithfully, that at the end of it you may truly say with Jacob, ’With all my
power I have served.’


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  CHAPTER 6: G - SECTION 6
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The Family at Home Familiar Illustrations of Various Domestic Duties by Gorham
D. Abbott, 1833

Section 6 HELPING ONE ANOTHER It is a remark, which I have often heard addressed
to the members of a family in general, "Know your own places—but be always
willing to help one another!" These two rules will do much to promote family
order and harmony. "What is everybody’s business—is nobody’s care." It is both
the occasion and the excuse of neglect. Duty is often altogether neglected of
which it may be said, "Most likely Jane has done it," or "I dare say Richard
will be home in time to do it," or "I thought Betty had done it." For that
reason it is desirable that every duty, however small, should be regularly
assigned to Jane, or Richard, or Betty. But, then, it is equally desirable, that
a general feeling of good-will should be nourished among them; that each, having
performed his or her own part, should be ready to render assistance to anyone
who may happen to be a little behind with theirs, and all should cheerfully join
in making things comfortable when any extra work occurs, either through illness
or visitors. I know a large family, whose house is the seat of order and
harmony; and this is how they manage. They keep no servant, but the industrious
and judicious mother has brought up her children to a thorough knowledge of the
management of domestic affairs in general. Each, also, has a particular
department assigned, according to their particular abilities; and the least
agreeable services are taken by each in turn. One daughter takes care of the
pantry, and another of the bedrooms; a third is chiefly employed in making up
the clothes of the family; one superintends the laundry; and another the nursery
and sick room. One son takes care of the garden, another manages the horse and
other animals. But, though each knows and keeps his own department, each takes
pleasure in lending a helping hand to the other: thus all is managed without
bustle, confusion, or altercation. I have also heard a story of a humorous old
gentleman, who, hearing a dispute between two of the servants, inquired what was
the matter. The house-maid replied, that, being very tired, she had asked the
coachman to fetch her a pail of water from the well, which was at a great
distance from the house: this he lazily and surlily refused. "Nay," said the
master, "I could not have thought, John, that you could be so ungallant as to
refuse to assist a female." John sulkily muttered, "that it was not his place to
fetch water—he was not hired to do it." "True, true," replied the master; "I beg
your pardon for supposing that you would do anything that you were not hired to
do. Go directly, and bring the carriage to the door." In a few minutes, the
carriage was announced, when the master directed the house-maid to get in with
her pail, and ordered John to drive her to the well as many times as she
required. "Whenever young people feel a grudging disposition, and unwillingness
to render any little service that they are not expressly hired to perform, let
them remember the old gentleman’s humorous reproof, and remember, above all
things, the precepts of the holy Book, which, if acted on, would prove the cure
of all selfishness and ill-will: ’Each of you should look not only to your own
interests, but also to the interests of others.’ ’Carry each other’s burdens,
and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ.’ CHANGING EMPLOYMENT "Think
twice before you act once," said a man to a journeyman, who talked of leaving
his master for the sake of higher wages. "You may, perhaps, get higher wages for
a few weeks, just while the market lasts, but how will it be all the year round?
Besides, think how ungenerous it would be, in the busy time, to leave a master
who has kept you employed when trade was dull. "When I was in business," said
this man, "I had many men in my employment, and was always desirous of keeping
them in constant work, at such wages as would enable them to live. I never got
rid of men at a time when work was dull, but found them employment in what I
hoped afterwards to bring into use. I seldom had occasion to take on extra hands
at a busy time, and I made it a rule never to take on a man who had once
deliberately left my employment. If anyone signified his intention of leaving, I
generally advised him to sleep upon his resolution, and to remember that—if he
once left, he would have no chance of being hired by me again. By steadily
maintaining this plan, I and my men came to understand each other; they were
satisfied that moderate gains, all the year round, were, on the whole,
preferable to an occasional flush—and following, frequent destitution; they lost
the restless desire of changing jobs, and I had the pleasure of leaving in the
employment of my sons, scores of men who had worked many years for their
father—men who had maintained their families in decency, and who had most of
them laid by a snug trifle for a rainy day." SUPERSTITION "Don’t put those hams
in salt today, whatever you do," said superstitious Mary to the cook, who was
preparing the ingredients for that purpose. "Why not?" asked the cook. "Because
it is Friday," answered the silly girl, "and no good luck ever comes to anything
begun on a Friday." "And are you really silly enough to believe that being
Friday can have anything to do with the matter?" asked her mistress, who
happened to be passing the pantry door at the moment. "Everybody knows that’s
true, ma’am; at least all country people do. There is not a farmer’s wife round,
who would put hams in salt, or begin making cheeses, on a Friday. It is
certainly true that they never prosper." "Do you know the reason why Mrs.
Thomson’s bacon was spoiled last autumn, which she was so very careful to put in
salt on a Saturday?" "No, ma’am, I do not know." "Then I will tell you. It was
because the weather was warm, and the meat was not salted early enough to
preserve it. If it had been salted on the Friday, it is very likely it would
have proved good bacon; but it was sacrificed to the silly superstition of not
putting it in salt on Friday. "Much in the same manner Mrs. Taylor allowed her
baby to scratch and disfigure its face, because she had a notion that it is
unlucky to cut the nails of a child under a year old. And Nanny Scott, the old
washer-woman, is sure that another death will happen this year in the family,
because, when her sister-in-law was taken out to be buried, somebody shut the
house door before the corpse was under ground, and so shut death into the house.
Another neighbor expects a similar event, because a single raven flew over the
house, and the cricket chirped on the hearth, and she saw a winding-sheet in the
candle. "My dear women," continued the lady, "how can you be so silly as to
embitter your lives by such foolish superstition? It is very likely that death
will enter the house within the year, for no doors nor bolts can keep it out,
and it is very likely that you may be its victim. You have more reason to think
so than any of your silly omens can give you." "Dear, ma’am, what reason?" asked
one of the women in terror. "Because the Bible tells us that it is appointed to
all men once to die, and warns us to be always ready, because we know not the
day nor the hour when we shall be called." "But, ma’am, don’t you believe in
anything that is a token of death, or of good or bad luck?" "In nothing
whatever! There is no such thing as luck, either good or bad; for luck means
chance; but everything, great and small, is under the wise and gracious
direction of God! Nothing can happen without his permission, and He permits
nothing but what, in His wonderful plans, He designs to work about for good. We
are kept in ignorance of the particular events which are to befall us, in order
to keep up in us a constant sense of our dependence on God, and a constant
obedience to the directions of His word, by which alone we can be prepared for
the dispensations of his providence." "Would you not think me very silly,"
continued she, "if I were to say, Some dirty rags were put into the mill, and by
good luck they came out clean paper? You would say luck had nothing to do with
it. It was the intention of the master to make those rags into paper, and every
part of the mill was contrived for that very purpose; for that he sets the
different machines to work, and employs the various substances which he knows
will bring about and effect the change he intends. "Now, though I don’t know
much about paper-making, I know you employ different materials and different
methods, according to the different kinds of papers you want to produce. But
suppose I were to say, ’A raven flew over the mill, and therefore I know the
pulp in this tub will come out brown paper. Or—the cat mewed for some meat, or
purred over her kitten, and that is a sure sign that the pulp in this other vat
will become white paper.’ Well, the paper turns out white or brown, just as I
had said; but would you not think me very silly indeed, if I could for a moment
suppose that the raven or the cat had anything to do with making it so?" "Very
,true, ma’am; it could have nothing to do with it: we know better than to think
it could. We know all that is done to make the rags into paper, and to make the
paper white or brown, as the master pleases." "Yes, my friend, and we know, too,
that every event, both great and small, is under the direction and control of
God, and all are employed in effecting his plans. Then, as to our having a
knowledge of any particular event beforehand, God, in his infinite wisdom, has
seen fit to withhold such knowledge. It would only unfit us for our duty; and it
is both vain and wicked to endeavor to obtain it, or for anyone to pretend that
they possess it. The Bible tells us quite enough of futurity to teach us to
prepare for it, as far as it rests with us to prepare; and as to the particular
strength and assistance we shall need when any particular trial comes upon us,
it is much safer and better for us to know that a God of infinite mercy is
exactly acquainted with our circumstances and need—has all resources at his
disposal, and will bestow upon his people, in answer to prayer, what and when is
really best for them, according to his riches in glory by Christ Jesus. We do
just so, with our little children—we give them food or medicine as we see
necessary, and tell them to come to us when they are in want or in pain; but we
never think of telling them exactly what and when we intend to give them next,
though we take care to provide such things as are necessary. "Had it been
according to the will of God, and for our real good, that we should know
everything beforehand, we may depend upon it, the information would have been
given us in God’s holy word, or gathered from general instruction and
observation, as we find all kinds of knowledge are obtained that are worth
possessing. It certainly would not have been left to creaking doors, and
croaking ravens, and ill-made tallow candles." A lady once lent us an excellent
little story about Tawny Rachel, showing the wickedness of those people who
pretend to tell about the future, and the folly of putting any faith in dreams,
omens, and conjurers. I was mightily pleased with the whole story, and shall
here copy a few of the concluding remarks. "Listen to me, your true friend, when
I assure you that God never reveals to weak and wicked women, the designs of his
providence, which no human wisdom is able to foresee. To consult these false
oracles, is not only foolish but sinful. It is foolish, because they are
themselves as ignorant as those whom they pretend to teach; and it is sinful,
because it is prying into that futurity which God, in mercy, as well as in
wisdom, hides from man. God indeed orders all things, but when you have a mind
to do a foolish thing, do not fancy you are fated to do it; this is tempting
providence, not trusting God. It is indeed charging Him with folly; prudence is
his gift, and you obey him better when you make use of prudence, under the
direction of prayer—than when you madly rush into ruin, and think you are only
submitting to your fate. Never fancy you are compelled to undo yourself, or to
rush upon your own destruction, in compliance with any supposed fate. Never
believe that God conceals his will from a sober Christian, who obeys his laws,
and reveals it to a vagabond, who runs up and down breaking the laws both of God
and man. King Saul never consulted the witch until he left off serving God; the
Bible will direct us best; conjurers are impostors; and there are no days
unlucky but those which we make so—by our vanity, folly and sin." HOMEMAKERS
"Then they can train the younger women to love their husbands and children, to
be self-controlled and pure, to be busy at home, to be kind, and to be subject
to their husbands, so that no one will malign the word of God." Titus 2:4-5
Cleanliness.—"Have your house clean, your dress clean, your body clean, and your
mind clean." "Let your mind’s sweetness have its operation Upon your person,
clothes, and habitation." And truly the connection is much nearer than would
appear at first sight; purity, commencing in the heart as the fountain, extends
itself to every little rill of conduct and appearance. "Cleanliness," says the
proverb, "is next to godliness;" we will not dispute about the exact degree of
relationship. Cleanliness ought never to be set up as a substitute for
godliness; but it certainly is, or ought to be, a constant attendant upon
godliness. All physicians agree that cleanliness does much to preserve and to
restore the health of the body; by frequent washings, the skin is kept clear
from disease, and the circulations go on freely; by frequent change of
bed-linen, the sleep is more refreshing, and general health and cheerfulness are
promoted. Children, in particular, have their temper, as well as their health,
affected by the cleanly or the negligent habits of those who nurse them; and it
is not improbable that many a fretful, irritable temper, through life, may be
traced in the beginning to this very circumstance. Clean skin, clean walls, and
clean furniture, will do more to keep off infectious disease than all the scents
and perfumes in the druggist’s shop. A healthy air, like pure water, should be
quite free from every kind of taste and smell. To enter an unkept and dirty
apartment is disgusting; but thorough cleanliness is at once inviting to the eye
and refreshing to the spirits. Families who are thoroughly cleanly in their
habits, generally enjoy more peace and contentment than those of an opposite
description; and the unexpected entrance of a visitor produces no feeling of
shame or irritation. Then, again, cleanly people are generally forecasting and
prudent in other respects; their furniture and clothes are carefully preserved,
and so last longer. Time seems turned to a better account; a cleanly person is
never indolent. Neither is half the time occupied in cleaning, by people who are
habitually cleanly; hence they have more time to devote to every other proper
purpose, and, in particular, more time to attend to the duties and enjoyments of
religion. It is a very common excuse for neglecting public worship—"We have no
decent clothes to appear in!" This is not the plea of the cleanly; however poor,
they can always command a decent appearance, and are generally distinguished for
their orderly attendance on public worship. Thus we make good the assertion,
that cleanliness is the handmaid both of peace and godliness. Keeping things to
their proper uses. The three well-known rules of domestic economy ought to be
affixed in some conspicuous part of every kitchen and cottage, at least until
they are transcribed into the memories and habits of the inhabitants— Do
everything in its proper time; Put everything in its proper place; Keep
everything to its proper use. It is a perpetual source of vexation in families,
and a disgrace both to mistresses and servants, when household articles are
either mislaid or injured, in consequence of having been used for improper
purposes—a good table-knife hacked with cutting wood, instead of a saw or a
chopper; the prongs of forks bent or broken, by having been made to do the work
of a corkscrew; a dresser or table made to serve for a chopping board, and a
chair for a pair of steps; a table-cloth cut by having been used as a
knife-cloth, and a good cloak or blanket scorched by being made to serve as an
ironing-blanket. Many such sights may be seen in slatternly families; and they
generally indicate that the owners will one day be destitute of these things for
their use. "Only for once,"—"It does not much matter,"—"It is not worth while to
fetch it,"—with the whole train of similar foolish apologies and excuses, should
always be heard with suspicion and disgust; and where young people find
themselves at all inclined to set up such excuses, they should immediately stand
self-convicted of the beginning of mischief, and should at once resolve to do
the thing properly, and to acquire a habit of so doing. Kindness to animals.—In
most families, one or more domestic animals are kept: as they are removed from
their natural state, in which they could have supplied their own needs, and that
for the use or gratification of man, they have a claim to be properly supplied
and kindly treated. "A righteous man cares for the needs of his animal, but the
kindest acts of the wicked are cruel." Every domestic animal should be
distinctly understood to be the charge of an individual; else there is great
danger of its being forgotten or neglected, under the idea that another person
has supplied it. The person who undertakes this charge, should have a regular
time allotted for fulfilling it, and a regular place assigned, in which supplies
are to be put as they accumulate; the fragments of the cookery, and of the
table, for the poor dog and cat, and even the crumbs for the chickens or
sparrows. Let nothing be wasted that can contribute to the happiness of any
living thing; there is something delightful in a benevolence resembling that of
the bountiful Creator, who provides for the lowest creatures, and takes pleasure
in their happiness. Children should early be taught to be kind to animals;
encouraged to supply them with food and water; taught to know what food is
suitable for them; and never, on any account, be allowed to torment them in
sport. Cleanliness is as conducive to the health and comfort of animals, as it
is to the human species. Even those that bear the character of the dirtiest
animals, thrive astonishingly better if kept thoroughly clean; and their being
kept so is essential to the health and comfort of those who live near them.
Borrowing.—Avoid a habit of borrowing: remember, "the borrower is servant to the
lender." The proverb runs, "He who goes a-borrowing, goes a-sorrowing;" and so,
indeed, does he who lends to some people. They are only concerned for their own
immediate convenience, and have no due regard to their neighbor’s property. They
will even forget that the article does not belong to them, or imagine that it
was returned long ago, and will feel offended when the owner applies for it.
This is very frequently the case with respect to books, the benefit of which a
benevolent man would wish to extend to his friends; but is often, by repeated
losses, discouraged and deterred. In household affairs, people should take care
to have their own articles kept in good repair and fit for use, that they may
not often be compelled to trouble their neighbors. If any article is borrowed,
special care should be impressed on the minds of all concerned, to remember that
it is borrowed, to preserve it from injury, and to return it to the owner as
soon as done with. It is wise to have a separate place, in which to put borrowed
articles, especially borrowed books; lest, being put among others, the
circumstance of their being borrowed should be forgotten, the lender injured,
and the borrower disgraced. These hints will not be despised either by Christian
mistresses or Christian servants, on whom it is incumbent that the houses in
which they preside or serve, should be models of good management to observers,
and of comfort to the inhabitants. It is no small part of Christian duty to make
all connected with us as comfortable as our means and circumstances will admit.
"If a Christian," said Mr. Newton, "is but a shoe-black, he ought to be the best
in the parish." RESPECT TO THE AGED A gentleman was once passing through a
village, and happened to see a poor feeble old woman let her stick fall, and
stand a moment in perplexity, not knowing whether she dared stoop to pick it up,
or attempt to reach her home without it. Just by the spot where the accident
happened, a group of boys were playing at marbles; some of them took no notice,
others rudely mocked the poor old woman’s distress; but one kind-hearted lad
threw down his marbles, ran to her assistance, and helped her into her house.
She thanked him, and said, "God Almighty’s blessing be upon you, for your
kindness to a poor old woman!" The gentleman saw and heard the whole, and made
inquiry after the lad, in whom he felt deeply interested. He found that he was
already in the Sunday-school, and, in all probability, had there learned the
scriptures, that inculcate reverence to the aged. From that time he had him
instructed in writing and accounts at an evening school; when old enough,
assisted in apprenticing him, and in course of time had the satisfaction of
seeing him a respectable and flourishing tradesman. I recollect his mentioning
the circumstance to his wife as soon as he came home; and he then said he
thought that boy discovered the rudiments of a good character, and that he
should be greatly disappointed if he did not turn out one whom it would be a
credit and satisfaction to have put forward in life. The after years fully
proved that his opinion was correct. This, and some other circumstances, led the
gentleman to make many remarks on the treatment the aged should receive, which
deeply impressed my mind, and which I have endeavored to preserve. "The hoary
head is a crown of glory—if it is found in the way of righteousness." "You shall
rise up before the hoary head, and honor the face of the old man, and fear
before the Lord your God." Such are the express precepts of scripture. So
reasonable in itself, and so clearly commanded by God, is reverence from the
young to the aged, it may be fairly said, that the young person who fails in so
obvious a duty is a stranger to the fear of God, and destitute of those
dispositions which alone can render youth amiable, manhood virtuous, and old age
honorable. Honor the aged—because God has put an especial honor upon old age;
and to treat old people with respect, to study their comfort, and tenderly to
soothe their infirmities, is an act of obedience to God. Honor the aged—because
they have generally a claim on your gratitude. Perhaps some feeble, decrepit old
person, whom the thoughtless youth may be inclined to ridicule and despise, has,
in days that are past, nurtured his infancy, or rescued his heedless steps from
danger, or administered a medicine that was the means of saving his life, or in
some way or other been instrumental in giving him a good education, or
introducing him to some advantage in society, which he now enjoys. Honor the
aged—because the time was when they were as blooming and lively and active as
yourselves; and if you live to old age, you will probably be as feeble and
decrepit as they; and then, how can you expect sympathy, kindness, and respect,
if in your youth you have not shown them to others? Honor the aged—because
outward infirmities do not necessarily enfeeble the mind, and much valuable
instruction may often be derived from people laboring under the weakness and
sufferings of old age. "Age should speak; advanced years should teach wisdom."
"Ask now your father, and he will show you; your elders, and they shall teach
you." Young people might find it greatly to their advantage to listen to the
experience of the aged, and to treasure up and improve their observations; to
ask, and to attend to their counsels, rather than to follow the dictates of
their own ignorance and self-conceit. But it is only a respectful, soothing
deportment on the part of the young, which can invite the aged to bring forth
the rich stores of their experience. Wise is the youth who never allows such an
opportunity to pass unimproved. Honor the aged, because a disposition in youth
to give due honor to age, is one of the fairest indications of general
excellence of character; and a particular blessing is often seen to rest upon
those who have treated the aged with conscientious respect. On the other hand,
the youth who can despise and ridicule the aged, gives sad evidence of a
generally wicked and depraved disposition. He often becomes a tyrant in his
family, a quarrelsome neighbor, and a despiser of religion! And many instances
are on record (besides that of the children of Bethel, who mocked the prophet
Elisha) in which the divine displeasure has evidently rested on those who
refused the honor due to old age. I have somewhere met with the following
narrative by an eyewitness. "My duty calls me every morning to pass through a
certain busy town; and as I take my walk, I cannot help making observations upon
what I see as I go by, and sometimes as I call at the shops and houses of the
inhabitants. I have been especially struck with the different treatment which
old age meets with, in the various families where I have had an opportunity for
taking notice. There is one family, in which I observe a very old woman, who has
been the slave of her children and grandchildren for many a year, for which she
now receives nothing but neglect. I have seen her wait most diligently on her
three unruly sons; and if it was a wet day, she would stand and entreat of the
one who was going out, to put on a raincoat, or take an umbrella, lest, ’dear
fellow,’ as she said, he should take cold; and I have seen that son snatch it
from her hand, throw it aside, and, calling her an old fool, and set off without
it, in defiance of her: yet she would meet his return with a smile, forgetting
and forgiving all; his warm tea would be ready, and his slippers and dry clothes
by the fire, and no remarks made on his ill conduct to her. To the children of
her three sons she was a complete drudge. I think I see her now stooping to lead
them and teach them to walk, until her poor old back was almost broken; but she
never did enough to satisfy them: the three wives of her sons thought fit to
ridicule her. She is now a paralytic, and sits in the chimney corner to bear the
insults of the youngest child: a kind word is never given her; and all think it
no use to pity her. I never see her, without hoping that God will in mercy soon
give her a joyful release, lest her children should fill up the measure of
retribution which they are preparing for their own old age. "I have observed
another scene. The dwelling is hardly to be called a cottage, for that gives one
the idea of a neat pretty abode, with white-washed walls covered with roses:
this is a little, old, dirty house, consisting of two rooms; the people pretend
to sell green-grocery; and I see the grandmother fetching dead sprouts and
parched greens to set out on a block before the door. Poor old creature! her
face is one mass of wrinkles; her steps are tottering, and her hands tremble;
her daughter is a widow, a hard-working charwoman. Lack of cleanliness is her
chief fault, and her greatest excellence filial affection to her poor old
mother. As I pass their door, the aged creature is sometimes entering with her
bundle of greens. I have often seen the daughter come out to meet her, saying,
in a kind tone, ’Mother, why do you carry so many? Come sit down, and let me
give you something to eat and drink, for I am sure you must be faint.’ There is
a large family of children; and one day I heard the eldest boy give his
grandmother an impertinent answer, for which he received from the mother a
hearty box on the ear: ’That is to teach you not to answer your grandmother in
that manner,’ said she; ’go and beg her pardon this moment.’ Away went the young
culprit, and did as he was told. There are perhaps better systems of family
discipline than this: the woman is dirty and slatternly, and I fear she has very
little thought of religion; but her behavior to her aged parent is a pattern to
many. "There is one old woman, who has five sons and one daughter: the sons are
all married and prosperous for their station in life, but they forget their
mother. She is a high-spirited old woman, and does not like to ask them for
help: for many a day she worked hard for them, and succeeded in making them what
they are, clever workmen. Her daughter, who is a notable girl, obtained a good
service, and had such wages as enabled her to dress very respectably: she lived
also at a plentiful table. Her fellow-servants were a cheerful, pleasant set,
and the situation had many advantages; but several times, when she went home to
see her mother, she found her overdone with work, infirm, and needing attention.
’I cannot live here,’ said the good girl, ’and see my mother in this state. How
can I enjoy my health, and sing, and be happy, while her age is fainting under
hard work? Can I enjoy a meal while she lacks? No.’—So home she came, and
mother’s bed was taken down and washed, and her room scoured very clean, and her
easy chair placed at the window; and there sits mother now, like a lady: no work
will Fanny allow her to do, but works hard herself: and when she carries up her
nice, nourishing basin of beef-tea, or her cup of coffee when she wakes, the
showers of blessings from a mother’s lips, make Fanny happier and richer than a
princess. O what a store of comfort is she laying up for herself! "I know one
poor servant girl, who is a credit to her class: her mother lives with a married
daughter, who does all she can for her; but many a comfort would she lack, were
it not supplied from the wages of Jenny—a bit of fish, when she can purchase it
at a cheap rate, a little ripe fruit, or any other nicety which is within her
power to obtain, a pair of easy warm shoes, and, at Christmas, a few yards of
new flannel, to keep off the rheumatism—these things my own eyes have seen
bestowed, and many a crown and half sovereign with them—by a hard-working
servant girl, on an aged mother! And may God send his best of blessings into the
cup of that dutiful child! "I passed the house of one who had ever been
accounted dutiful to her mother: she married, and had herself become the parent
of three children, when called to that mother’s death-bed, during the period of
whose sickness her tender care was required; but she was so taken up with her
three children, that she could not spare an hour for her dying parent; no, these
little new-comers so engrossed her affections, that the old tried friend, who
had so carefully reared her, who had been ever ready with advice and help for
her, when in difficulty, was now forgotten: if food required preparing for the
sick mother, she was sure to be making up a smart cap for the baby. She never
would contrive matters so as to devote an hour to her mother, and yet not
neglect her children—no, the love, the gratitude of the daughter was lost. Let
her take care, lest her three idols pass unheedingly by her dying bed: they are
three beautiful children; but I never see her fondle them without thinking of
the poor old mother’s last, lonely hours. "There is one old lady—she is quite a
lady in manners and fortune—whose fine house I pass; but her estate, and her set
of servants, cannot help her under her infirmity of mind, which is the fear of
death; she is a holy, good woman, and none who know her, but herself, doubt of
her eternal safety. She has a daughter who is a great comfort to her; and the
constant effort of this good girl is to smooth the mother’s passage to the tomb.
She knows her gloomy fears, and is ever pointing out some new, and beautiful,
and cheering view of the heavenly Canaan. She will draw the mother’s attention
to the beauties of nature, and lead her trembling steps in the green pastures,
and beside the still waters; and then, while she is enjoying all, will remind
her, "If such the sweetness of the stream, What must the Fountain be?" She often
reads to her, how ’the arrow sharpened with love let easily into the heart,’ was
Christiana’s token, when she was called to go over the river; and how
Despondency’s last words were, ’Farewell, Night! Welcome, Day!’ and how his
daughter Much-afraid went through the river singing; and ’how glorious it was to
see how the open region was filled with horses and chariots, with trumpeters and
pipers, with singers and players on stringed instruments, to welcome the
pilgrims as they went up, and followed one another in at the beautiful gate of
the city.’ "Reader, how is it between you and your parents? Perhaps they are
gone—they no longer need your kindness. But if they still live, and your heart
tells you that you have not showed them all the tenderness and respect which you
might have done, oh, begin this moment to endeavor to soothe their few
remaining, painful days: think of the satisfaction it will yield you, when they
are no more. The pleasures of earth are going from them: you and your children
are in health, cheerfully looking on to prosperity and many happy days of joy;
but your aged parents’ eyes are closing to all things under the sun; life and
its joys are become tasteless: they may adopt the words of Barzillai to King
David, when he said, "Cross over with me and stay with me in Jerusalem, and I
will provide for you." But Barzillai answered the king, "How many more years
will I live, that I should go up to Jerusalem with the king? I am now eighty
years old. Can I tell the difference between what is good and what is not? Can
your servant taste what he eats and drinks? Can I still hear the voices of men
and women singers? Why should your servant be an added burden to my lord the
king? Your servant will cross over the Jordan with the king for a short
distance, but why should the king reward me in this way? Let your servant
return, that I may die in my own town near the tomb of my father and mother." 2
Samuel 19:33-37 And is this the case of your parents, and do you not deeply feel
for them? Can you see those trembling hands, and forget that they nourished your
infancy; or watch those tottering steps, and forget how often in their strength
they have hastened to comfort you? Look back, when absent from home and among
strangers, how the sudden sight of your mother or your father has caused your
young bosom to swell with joy, and brought kindly tears to your eyes: you have
flown to them, and felt at home. Did ever stranger watch your sick bed as they
have done? Did ever stranger, mirthful and pleasant as he might be, show the
daily, the constant, the deep, the self-denying interest for you that they have
done? When trouble has overtaken you, the world has passed heedlessly on, busy
and cheerful—what did it care whether you did well or ill? But there was one,
whose countenance fell when you were in sorrow; one who thought of you, and wept
for you, and prayed for you, yes, and acted for you, when and where he could—it
was your father. There was one whose deep sighs and many tears told how her
heart bled for you—it was your mother. Can you forget all this, and allow their
gray hairs to go down to the grave with sorrow? Oh, turn, before it is too late.
Let their weak hands and their feeble knees plead for your tenderness now, as
your weak hands and feeble knees once pleaded with them. They were ready to
forgive your faults, to hide your defects; oh, let the same love look over and
pass by the peevishness, the defects of their old age: recollect how much that
was disagreeable they put up with in you, and that not grudgingly, but out of a
heart overflowing with love. Pay them back liberally the debt of gratitude you
owe; and as you would that your children should do unto you, do you even so unto
your parents." JESTING, FOOLISHNESS It is a great attainment always to preserve
seriousness without gloom, and cheerfulness without levity. I never knew a more
cheerful family than that of Mr. White’s. Parents, and children, and servants,
all had a happy expression of countenance: all tried to make each other happy:
all, I believe, had a conscience void of offence both towards God and man; and,
as they felt really happy, they always appeared really cheerful; but levity and
folly they could not endure; light, foolish jests were never heard, either in
their parlor or kitchen. I have heard there many remarks on the subject, the
truth of which I have seen exemplified in many other families, though not in
theirs; and have observed, that families where a spirit of jesting is indulged,
though they are sometimes very merry, are at other times very gloomy, and
generally very contentious. Their conduct and temper reminds one of the saying
of Solomon, "The laughter of fools is like the crackling of thorns under a
pot,"—a great blaze and soon over; and often "in the midst of laughter the heart
is in heaviness." How strikingly the apostle cautions—"Nor should there be
obscenity, foolish talk or coarse joking, which are out of place, but rather
thanksgiving." Indeed they are not; and it may be questioned which is greatest,
the folly of jesting, or the mischief arising from it. A jester is a most
contemptible or a most dangerous person; no one either respects or trusts him.
He who delights in puns—does not scruple not to make himself the ape or the
buffoon of a company. He who indulges a more pungent and malignant kind of
evil-speaking, spares neither the feelings nor the character of others; "Who,
for the poor renown of being smart, Would stick a dagger in a brother’s heart."
Another poet has it, "Laugh at the reputations she has torn, And holds them
dangling at arm’s length in scorn." The contemptible light in which jesters are
held by all men of sound wisdom, is evident in many cautionary maxims left on
record, such as, "Commit no business, no secret of importance, to a jester."
"Let not a fool play with you in the house, lest he play with you in the
market." "The joking of wits, like the play of puppies, often ends in snarling."
"He who makes himself the common jester of the company, has but just wit enough
to be a fool." The jester has seldom any reverence for sacred things; the sacred
name of God, or some sentiment or precept of his holy word, is often perverted,
to give point to the strokes of his profane levity. "It may be wit to turn
things sacred to ridicule, but it is wisdom to let them alone." "Sin is too bad,
and holiness too good, to make sport of; the one demands repentance, and the
other reverence." "They are fools, who mock either at sin or holiness." It is a
great pity that even pious people sometimes indulge themselves in repeating the
puns or mistakes of others on the words of scripture, which are thus associated
in the mind with improper and ludicrous ideas; and the sacred influence of the
passage is entirely lost. Some ministers have declared themselves precluded from
preaching on one or more very solemn and weighty passages of scripture, from
being unable to divest them of some ludicrous association imprinted on the mind,
perhaps in the days of youthful vanity and folly, or perhaps, which is still
more to be lamented, presented more recently by some one who ought to have had
enough sacred wisdom to restrain this frivolous wit. Not less foolish or
injurious are those practical jests which the young and thoughtless often
practice on each other for mere sport. Many people, as long as they live, never
recover the effects of some sudden surprise or fright, thus wantonly inflicted;
some now living, and once possessed of the finest faculties, fitting them to be
the ornaments of society and great benefactors to mankind, have been thus
reduced to a mere state of idiocy, and present an affecting wreck of former
capabilities thus wantonly shattered and destroyed. Truly, he is a "madman who
casts about firebrands, arrows and death; so is the man who deceives his
neighbor, and says, Am I not in sport?" Even in cases where neither death nor
derangement result from such foolish jesting, it is often attended with
consequences which, though less serious, occasion real suffering and
inconvenience through life. A child was terrified to silence by a wicked servant
assuring her that if ever she mentioned some misconduct which she had witnessed,
the birds would fly down and peck her—(the hangings of the bed in which the
child slept were trees and birds painted.) Young as the child was, she knew
enough to be sure that this was impossible; yet an undefined terror possessed
her mind, which seriously affected her health and endangered her life. She could
never afterwards have a quiet night’s rest in that bed, nor could she see a
bird, either living or dead, without an agony of terror. Even in mature life,
(though by no means of a timid disposition,) she suffers more at having to pass
near half-a-dozen harmless barn-door fowls, than if they were really fierce and
destructive creatures. More than once, in peculiar circumstances, her health and
even life have been endangered by this ungrounded and yet unconquerable
apprehension. Surely this ought to be a caution to those entrusted with the care
of children, never to fill their minds with imaginary terrors; and to young
people, in their moments of sport, never to venture on a play or a joke, which
may wound the feelings of a companion, and perhaps endanger his reason or his
life. This is a good place to caution young people against such sports as would
endanger themselves, or such feats of strength as, if accomplished, can scarcely
fail to injure the constitution. There is no true courage in foolhardiness; and
no person can trifle with his own safety and health without sin. Our health and
strength are talents bestowed on us by God, which we are to employ for the
purposes intended, and for which we must be accountable; but it is no part of a
man’s duty, nor at all to his credit, to display the strength of a horse, for
mere idle boasting of what he can do. Let a man, who possesses great bodily
strength and courage, carry them meekly and quietly on ordinary occasions; and
when a real emergency arises, let him rush forward, regardless of labor and
fearless of danger, to save the life of a fellow-creature. This is a cause worth
his exertion, and will secure, as it deserves, the admiration, respect, and
gratitude of others. But he who hazards his health, limbs, or life, for the mere
idle boast of what he can do, is as deservedly despised, even by those whom he
amuses; and, were it not for the awful futurity awaiting him, others would be
apt to form an estimate similar to his own, of the worthlessness of that life
which he so wantonly endangers. One of our kings gave a fit rebuke to
foolhardiness. When a man, who had climbed to the top of Salisbury cathedral,
presented a memorial to the king, hoping to be rewarded for his feat—the king
strictly forbid all his other subjects to attempt the like, on pain of death. A
sailor had often run by the mouth of a cannon at the moment of its firing. Many
of his comrades had admired the feat, and laid wagers on his performing it; but
others, more sober, entreated him to desist from so presumptuous an attempt, and
even endeavored to pull him back; but he persisted, and in an instant was blown
to atoms. This is an affecting picture of those who, in spite of all the
warnings of the word of God, and the remonstrances of pious friends, madly rush
on in the ways of sin, and sport on the very edge of the pit of destruction.
This is fool-hardiness indeed; for a puny worm of the earth to rush forward and
contend with his Maker, and dare the Almighty to do his worst—to dance over the
embers of sin and corruption, which one breath of Jehovah can kindle into
everlasting burnings. "Who ever hardened himself against God and prospered?" "Oh
that they were wise, that they would consider this!" "He who, being often
reproved, hardens his neck, shall be suddenly destroyed, and that without
remedy." "Now, consider this, you who forget God, lest he tear you in pieces,
and there be none to deliver." CHRISTIAN PATRIOTISM A Christian ought never to
be a noisy, disputing politician, but he ought to be a patriot. Every man who
shares the blessings and protection of a civilized country, ought to have its
interests at heart: he is bound to pray for the peace and prosperity of the land
he lives in; he is bound to cultivate and exemplify that righteousness which
exalts a nation, and to discountenance and weep over that sin which is a
reproach to any people, and which, sooner or later, brings down the judgments of
a righteous God. When the Lord was about to pour forth his dreadful judgments on
the wicked Jews, the few truly pious and patriotic were thus distinguished: "And
the Lord said unto him, Go through the midst of the city, through the midst of
Jerusalem, and set a mark upon the foreheads of the men that sigh and that cry
for all the abominations that be done in the midst thereof." A friend often said
that he reckoned my father a true patriot: father was surprised at this, and
said he thought it belonged only to great and learned men: "No," said his
friend, "that is quite a mistake; even a poor and unlearned man may be the
support and honor of his country, while he guides his affairs with integrity and
discretion; while, by his patient industry, he renders the natural produce of
the land available to the supply of the community in general, as well as his
own; while he rules well his own household, and trains up a family of good
subjects to the state; and while he prays for kings and all that are in
authority, that they may rule over men in the fear of the Lord, and that all the
subjects of the land may lead quiet and peaceable lives, in all godliness and
honesty. Such a man is a true patriot, and has as loyal and patriotic an
interest in ’his own hearth-stone,’ ’his own vine and fig-tree,’ as a noble has
in his splendid mansion and extensive estates. ’Better is the poor who walks in
his integrity, than he who is perverse in his ways, though he is rich.’
Sometimes it is seen that ’though the rich man is wise in his own conceit, the
poor who has understanding searches him out.’ Solomon tells us that ’there was a
little city, and few men within it, and there came a great king against the city
and besieged it, and built great bulwarks against it: now, there was found in it
a poor wise man, and he, by his wisdom, delivered the city. Then, said I, Wisdom
is better than strength;’ and ’by a man of knowledge and understanding the state
shall be prolonged.’ "Remember, then, everyone may be a true friend to his
country—not by blustering about politics, and shouting at elections, but by
acting well himself, and setting a good example to all around him. The best
reform will be, when everyone sets about, in earnest, to reform himself. ’When
everyone sweeps before his own door, we shall soon have a clean street;’ and
when every man is what he ought to be, we shall have a whole nation fearing God
and working righteousness; meanwhile, let everyone look to himself, and do his
part towards it." GOOD AND BAD REPORTS A good man’s character is very dear to
him—it ought to be so—he is commanded to follow those "things that are of good
report." This is a point in which bad men are always ready to injure him; as
they hate their brother, because his works are good and theirs are evil; his
goodness reproves their badness, and therefore they cannot bear to have it
appear that he is as good as he is. They will not scruple to invent, or pervert
and circulate, stories to his hurt; they will misrepresent facts and malign his
motives. This is very trying to the spirit of a man who desires so to live that
he may adorn the doctrine of God, his Savior, in all things; but "to do well,
and be ill-spoken of—is characteristic of the Christian." When men are troubled
in this way, it is better, in nine cases out of ten, to take no notice at all,
but let malice run itself out of breath. A great philosopher, on being told that
some had spoken badly of him, replied, "It matters not; I will endeavor so to
live that nobody shall believe them." Malicious aspersions cast upon the
character of a good man, will, in time, wear off, and his righteousness will
appear it’s the light, and his judgment as the noon-day: indeed, the very
attacks of malice may prove a benefit to the Christian. Those who lay to his
charge things which he did not do, may bring to his notice imperfections which
he had not observed, and lead him to correct them. It has been prettily
represented, that the Christian goes through the world as with a rich silk
garment, that glistens in the sun; but the spite and malice of men follow him,
and cast dirt upon his garment, and then call upon others to observe how it is
bespattered: he goes on his way, perhaps grieved at the injury he has
sustained—perhaps unconscious of it—but, by-and-by, the dirt rolls off, one
piece after another, and proves to have been nothing more than fuller’s earth;
it cleanses the garment of some spots it had contracted, and leaves no trace of
the dirt that had been maliciously cast upon it. It is a just observation, that
as those who for every slight illness take powerful medicine, do rather injure
than repair their health, so they, who for every trifle, attempt to vindicate
their character, do rather weaken it. The best defense, against both oppression
and malice—is a harmless life and a peaceful spirit. While we suffer in the way
of well-doing, we need not plead our own cause, but commit it to Him who judges
righteously—who will execute judgment for the oppressed, and bring to light
every secret work of darkness. We should, however, make it our concern to act
prudently as well as harmlessly, and not provoke opposition by a rash and
meddlesome spirit. Every man ought to be ashamed of suffering as a babbler, a
mischief-maker, or a busy-body in other men’s matters; but if he is assailed
with unmerited opposition and unfounded malignity, then he suffers as a
Christian; and let him glorify God in this behalf, and commit the keeping of his
soul unto God in well-doing, as unto a merciful and faithful Creator. COMPANIONS
AND SECRETS We should labor to impress on young people, especially at their
first going out into life, the importance of prudence and caution in the choice
of companions. It is a generally-received maxim that "you may know a man by the
company he keeps;" and if two are seen familiarly to associate together, it is
concluded, that the worst will corrupt the best, rather than the best reform the
worst,—for such is the natural tendency of corrupt human nature; therefore, take
heed of being infected by the breath of a profane or a polluted heart. What good
can you expect from bad company? If you are truly good, they will taunt or
despise you; if you are unsettled, they will surely corrupt you. We are not,
however, to refuse all worldly dealings with ungodly men; for then, as the
apostle says, we must needs go out of the world. But the Christian’s fellowship
with such men should resemble that of "the physician in an infected apartment,
or of a lawyer conversing with his client in a shower of rain;" neither will
hesitate to discharge their duties; but, having done so, both will be glad to
hasten on. The Christian is not required to be either surly, uncharitable, or
fanatical; on the contrary, he is commanded to be courteous to all men. In
worldly matters, he should act with worldly men as a citizen of the world, but
always under the influence of Christian principles; so that worldly men who deal
with him shall be made to feel that they may trust him to the uttermost, but
they dare not take liberties with him. As to his chosen society, he should say
with the Psalmist, "I am a companion of all those who fear you, and of those who
keep your precepts." "I have not sat with vain people, neither will I go in with
dissemblers. I have hated the congregation of evil doers, and will not sit with
the wicked. O Lord, gather not my soul with sinners, nor my life with bloody
men!" In all the conduct of consistent Christians, that wisdom of the prudent
which is profitable to direct, will be manifested. Divine wisdom in the heart
lays the best foundation for human prudence and profitable conversation. In
reference to social fellowship, the following maxims are worthy to be observed:
"Beware of strangers, and behave with caution in mixed companies." "Censure not
people nor principles before strangers, or in mixed company." "Never listen or
peep at doors or windows; never ask a man what he carries covered; never peep
behind a curtain, nor look into other men’s books or papers." "Believe not all
you hear, nor repeat all you believe." "Suspect a tale-bearer, and a great
talker—in the multitude of words there lacks not sin, and he is not worthy of
being trusted with your secrets who is fond of entertaining you with another
man’s." "Tell not your secrets to your servant, lest he become your master."
"Say little of people whom you can neither commend without envy, nor censure
without danger." "Those who are eager to know a secret, are sure to be fond of
telling it; therefore, trust not any who press for your confidence." "Rather
persuade yourself than your friend to keep your counsel; for how should another
keep that secret which concerns him not, when you can not keep it yourself, whom
it does concern?" "Impart not to your friend such things as cannot benefit him
to know, but may harm you, if discovered. ’A fool utters all his mind, but a
wise man keeps it in until afterwards.’" "Trust not him who flatters with his
lips. Flatterers have generally some interest of their own to serve, as the
eagle is said to lift up the tortoise, in order to get something by his fall."
"Know yourself—and then no flattery can deceive you." "Love your friend, with
all his faults; you are not perfect yourself, therefore expect no perfection in
others." "Respect both yourself and your friend." "Too much familiarity breeds
contempt." "Be not too eager in counseling others. Ill success sometimes attends
good counsel; then the blame is laid to the adviser’s charge, though the success
attending good advice is seldom thanked for." Seek the company of those who are
capable of instructing you, especially in the things which relate to your soul
or your calling, and improve every opportunity of converse with them to treasure
up some piece of useful knowledge, some maxim or motive for prudence or
spiritual improvement. It is a pity to look back on hours, or even minutes,
spent in the society of wise and good men, without having derived some real
profit from it. In all our fellowship with society, it should be our constant
aim either to do good or to get good; but false modesty too often prevents the
one, and self-conceit the other. The sacred book of Proverbs abounds with
precepts and cautions in the choice of companions, which the young should
treasure up in their memories and hearts. "My son, if sinners entice you,
consent not." "Go from the presence of a foolish man, when you perceive not in
him the lips of knowledge." "He who follows vain people is void of
understanding." "Enter not into the path of the wicked, and go not in the way of
evil men; avoid it, pass not by it, turn from it, and pass away." "Make no
friendship with an angry man, and with a furious man you shall not go, lest you
learn of his ways, and get a snare to your soul." "He who walks with wise men
shall be wise—but a companion of fools shall be destroyed." THE GOVERNMENT OF
THE TONGUE This comes in very near connection with the last subject. Many maxims
apply to both. It is a very common mistake of wicked men to say, "Our lips are
our own; who is Lord over us?" Even godly people often fail in circumspection
here, and speak as if they thought words were of very little consequence. But
our Lord has taught us, "I tell you that men will have to give account on the
day of judgment for every careless word they have spoken." Matthew 12:36. The
apostle James speaks of the government of the tongue as one of the highest and
most difficult points of Christian attainment, and an indispensable mark of the
sincerity of our Christian profession. "If anyone considers himself religious
and yet does not keep a tight rein on his tongue, he deceives himself and his
religion is worthless." James 1:26 There is great danger of sinning with the
tongue, because the depravity of our own hearts inclines us to it. "The heart is
deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked;" and "out of the abundance
of the heart the mouth speaks." There is danger of sinning, because it is so
very easy to do so. Some sins require time, preparation, exertion; and while all
this is going on, a better thought may come in, and check the mischief. But the
instant an improper thought or feeling enters the mind, what can be so easy as
for the doors of the mouth to fly open, and give it utterance? Hence the too
frequent apology, "I am sorry I said it—I meant no harm—it was but a hasty
word—I spoke without a thought." Not quite, we may say, for speaking is but
thinking aloud; but the fact is, we should think twice before we speak once. We
are in danger also from the frequency of speech; that which we do but seldom, we
are more apt to weigh well, and take pains to do properly; but we are obliged to
speak many times every day of our lives, and it is a great wonder if we do not
often speak amiss. To avoid this, it is wise not to speak without real occasion.
"When words are many, sin is not absent, but he who holds his tongue is
wise."Proverbs 10:19. "God has given us two ears and but one tongue, as if to
intimate that we should be twice as ready to hearken as to speak." "Let every
man be swift to hear, slow to speak." "Life and death are in the power of the
tongue." "Do you see a man hasty in his words? There is more hope of a fool than
of him." "A man of knowledge uses words with restraint, and a man of
understanding is even-tempered. Even a fool is thought wise if he keeps silent,
and discerning if he holds his tongue." Proverbs 17:27-28 The following are
excellent maxims of wisdom in this particular: "There are times when we may and
ought to say nothing, and there are times when we may and ought to say
something; but there will never be a time when we should say all things." "We
must never say anything but the truth, nor must we say the truth at all times."
"One often repents of saying too much, but seldom of saying too little." "Better
say nothing than nothing to the purpose." "Great talkers discharge too thick to
take good aim." "To one you find full of questions, it is better to make no
answer at all." "Praise no man too liberally before his face, nor censure any
man severely behind his back." "Say nothing to any one in a fury, for that is
like putting out to sea in a storm." "In times of joy and grief, set a special
guard upon the tongue, for then you are most in danger of speaking imprudently."
"Words spoken in meekness and wisdom, not from an angry spirit, are most
searching to him to whom they are addressed, and most comfortable to him that
speaks them." "Answer not a fool according to his folly, lest you also be like
unto him. Answer a fool according to his folly, lest he be wise in his own
conceit." This paradox has been well explained. "The fool" is one who does not
make a proper use of his reason. When he speaks in the folly of passion, answer
him not with like folly, but give ’a soft answer, which turns away wrath.’
"Answer not the folly of mere talkativeness with similar folly. Perpetual
prating about nothing may often be put down by a dead silence. Answer not the
folly of unreasonableness, false argument, or prejudice, by like folly; but
’prove all things, and hold fast that which is good.’ "Answer not the folly of
profaneness by folly like his own, but by marked silence, or well-timed reproof.
(The Rev. John Howe, walking in the park, met two gentlemen, who, in eager
discourse, repeatedly uttered the awful word ’damn,’ to each other. Mr. Howe
took off his hat, and, with much solemnity, said, ’Gentlemen, I pray God to save
you both.’ A word spoken in season, how good is it!’) "Answer not the folly of
malignity with like folly. ’There is that which speaks like the piercings of a
sword; but the tongue of the wise is as a healing medicine. In the mouth of the
foolish there is a rod of pride; but the lips of the wise shall preserve them.’
"Answer not the folly of peevishness according to its folly, but pity, forbear,
and forgive; and ’The tear that is wiped with a little address, May be followed,
perhaps, with a smile.’ "Answer not the folly of captiousness with similar
folly. Be not displeased when you are contradicted; above all, do not wait for
an opportunity of contradicting in your turn, to pay off the supposed affront.
"Answer not the folly of flattery according to itself, but turn to it a deaf
ear, and a disgusted heart; for he who flatters his neighbor, spreads a net for
his feet. Flattery cherishes pride, self-love, and self-ignorance. "But ’answer
a fool according to his folly, lest he be wise in his own conceit;’ that is,
answer him so as to refute him on his own false principles, lest his being left
without an answer, should lead him to suppose that his folly is unanswerable,
and so confirm him in his mistake. Answer him, if he fancies himself right when
he is clearly in the wrong, if possible to prevent him from deluding others." I
remember hearing a sermon read, in which the laws of speech were thus laid down,
by which our conversation should be governed. "The law of prudence.—This
condemns idleness and folly; for no one has a right to talk nonsense. It
condemns, also, all that is impertinent and unsuited to the place, the company,
and the season. ’A wise man’s heart discerns both time and judgment.’ ’A word
fitly spoken, O how good is it! It is like apples of gold in pictures of
silver.’ All ’foolish talking and jesting’ are forbidden by the apostle, while
he enjoins, ’Let your speech be always with grace, seasoned with salt, that you
may know how to answer every man.’ "The law of purity.—This forbids all
ribaldry, and not only everything that is grossly offensive, but all indecent
allusions and insinuations, however artfully veiled: ’but fornication and all
uncleanness, let it not be once named among you, as becomes saints.’ "The law of
veracity.—This condemns everything spoken with a view to deceive, or spoken so
as to occasion deception, which may be done by a confusion of circumstances; by
an omission of circumstances; by an addition of circumstances. ’Therefore,
putting away lying, speak every man truth with his neighbor; for we are members
one of another.’ "The law of kindness.—This condemns all calumny and
tale-bearing, the circulation of whatever may be injurious to the reputation of
another. This requires that, if you must speak another’s faults, you do it
without aggravation; and that you do it, not with pleasure, but with pain; and
that, if you censure, you do it as a judge would pass sentence on his son. ’Let
all bitterness, and wrath, and anger, and clamor, and evil speaking, be put away
from you, with all malice.’ "The law of utility.—This requires that we should
not scandalize another by anything in our speech; but contribute to his benefit
by rendering our discourse instructive, or reproving, or consolatory. Let no
corrupt communication proceed out of your mouth, but that which is good, to the
use of edifying, that it may minister grace to the hearers.’ "The law of
piety.—This requires that we should never take God’s name in vain, never speak
lightly of his word or worship, never charge him foolishly, never murmur under
any of his dispensations. It requires that we extol his perfections and
recommend his service." (Rev. W. Jay.) The following remark is worth preserving
and noticing. "A cause which has a strong tendency to destroy pious seriousness,
and which almost always prevents its formation and growth in young minds, is
levity in conversation upon subjects connected with religion." (Paley.) "Who is
a wise man, and endued with knowledge among you? Let him show out of a good
conversation his works with meekness and wisdom." There is, perhaps, no fault
more common than gossiping; I mean telling and hearing the petty news and idle
chit-chat of the neighborhood. Few masters and mistresses like to have many
comers and goers in their kitchen; and none would be willing to have all their
concerns talked over with the servants of their neighbors. Every considerate
head of a family will be willing to indulge his servants with liberty to visit
their friends, at proper times; and of this you will do right to avail yourself;
but when you are sent on an errand, or other necessary concern, call to mind the
injunction given by the prophet Elisha to his servant, which you may find by
turning to the second of Kings, Chapter 4. ver. 29, and act accordingly; (If you
meet anyone, do not greet him, and if anyone greets you, do not answer.) Or, if
civility requires you to give or return a salutation, be sure you do not stop
and waste your time in foolish tittle-tattle. This is no unnecessary caution.
Often have I beheld a whole group of servants standing together for half an hour
or more, gossiping about what one’s master says, and another’s mistress does;
and fifty other things as little worth knowing or relating; while, perhaps,
three or four helpless infants have been all the while exposed to the bleak
winds, or set down upon the cold stones; and many a one has been condemned to
drag crippled limbs, or suffer excruciating pains throughout their whole lives,
who might date the commencement of their sorrows to such unpardonable
negligence. Ever stand at the utmost distance from all such practices; and if
anyone is so imprudent as to ask you questions relative to the concerns of the
family with which you live, check at once their foolish curiosity by replying,
"that it is no part of your business to inquire into such matters, nor would it
be right for me to divulge them to you." You will say, perhaps, "What! am I
never to talk?" Yes, I am sure you will, whether I give you leave or not; nor do
I wish to prohibit it. Man is a social creature; and the gift of speech, when
properly exercised, is not only one of the distinguishing, but one of the
noblest blessings, bestowed upon him by the great Author of his existence. Use
it with thankfulness, but use it also with discretion. Converse with your
friends and acquaintance freely and cheerfully; but take care that your
conversation is inoffensive, that it does not interfere with your duty, that it
is never slanderous or censorious. Remember who has said, "I tell you that men
will have to give account on the day of judgment for every careless word they
have spoken." Matthew 12:36.


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  CHAPTER 7: H - SECTION 7
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The Family at Home Familiar Illustrations of Various Domestic Duties by Gorham
D. Abbott, 1833

Section 7 READING "Reading is an invaluable art. It is a key which can unlock
all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge. It furnishes a pleasing employment,
and solace for the hour of solitude, and fits us for appearing in society with
advantage. It enables a man to avail himself of the knowledge and experience of
others, with whom, but for reading, he would have had no medium of
communication. It brings him into familiar acquaintance with whatever may
concern his present or future well-being through time and eternity. "But, like
every other machine of vast power, there is a proportionate danger of its
becoming the instrument of destruction. Books have been made subservient to the
purposes of vice as well as of virtue—the vehicles of everything that is
polluting and profane; and the young cannot be too cautious in making their
selection. "A taste for reading is, in itself, desirable and commendable. It has
been the means of keeping many a young man from imbibing a taste for the
public-house, the ballroom, or the gaming-table. Every young man will do well to
connect himself with some society, by means of which he may be furnished with a
judicious selection of profitable books. There are many subjects affording mines
of pleasing and interesting information, which invite the research of the
student, and which are now happily treated of in so simple and common-sense a
manner as to render them intelligible to people of an ordinary education.
Biography, history, travels, geography, natural and experimental philosophy, and
general science, will afford a pleasing variety to every unperverted taste. "But
guard against the love of light, trifling reading. At best, it wastes the time
and enfeebles the mind, disqualifies it for the relish of more solid subjects.
By giving a false and delusive coloring to the scenes of human life, excites
unreasonable expectations, unfits for common duties, and produces discontent
with the sober realities of life. "The youth, or the head of a family, who is
alive to the great interests of eternity, will devote a considerable portion of
his leisure to the perusal of such books as have a direct tendency to promote
his moral and spiritual improvement. Very far from considering pious books dull
and insipid, he will esteem them most interesting and savory; and, without
excluding or despising works of general information, he will consider those
connected with his spiritual interests as the most indispensable. Above all, the
holy scriptures will be the book of his daily perusal. Whatever other book is
consulted or dispensed with, this cannot be done without. It will be the man of
his counsel, the light of his faith, the consolation of his spirit." The above
remarks were made by a gentleman at the formation of a reading society, or
lending library, among the young men of the village. He originated the plan, and
was for many years the president of the society. There was a little opposition
at first: what good thing ever was set afoot that did not meet with some
opposition? One or two of the farmers were sadly afraid of making the people too
learned, and that there would be none left who would be content to labor. The
master of a circulating library opposed it, because he feared that the new books
recommended would cut out his foolish novels and romances; and the inn-keepers
objected to it, when they found that the meetings of the society were to be held
in the school-room, and not in a public-house. However, the plan succeeded, and
outlived all their opposition: together with Sunday-schools, in which this
gentleman and his whole family were actively engaged, I think this reading
society was highly beneficial in promoting the civilization and respectability
of individuals, and the comfort of families. Indeed, I recollect several
instances of young people in humble life so improving these means of
instruction, that they have been instrumental in fitting them to fill very
respectable stations in society; so they have found the truth of the old saying,
that "learning is better than house and land." The following remarks I have met
with elsewhere. "There are many books," said John Newton, "which I cannot sit
down to read. They are indeed good and sound—but have a great quantity of pages,
compared to their insignificant value. There are some silver books, and a very
few golden books; but I have one book worth more than all, called the Bible—and
that is a book of priceless gems!" To a man who knows the value of the word of
God, it is nearer than his friends, dearer than his life, sweeter than his
liberty, and pleasanter than his daily comforts. Every man who prays loves the
scriptures; for we speak to God in prayer, and He speaks to us in his word. Such
a person reads the threatenings of God, and considers them as a call to him to
repent. He reads the promises, and they call upon him to believe. He reads the
commands of God, and feels himself sweetly called upon to obey; and often he
bursts into exclamations like those of the Psalmist, "How sweet are your words
to my taste! yes, sweeter than honey to my mouth; moreover, by them is your
servant warned, and in keeping of them there is great reward." "Your statutes
are my songs in the house of my pilgrimage." All arguments against the word of
God are fallacies; all conceits against the word are delusions; all derision
against the word is folly; all opposition against the word is madness. The Bible
is open to all; but each should receive it as if addressed to himself alone. Let
it speak to each in the words of Nathan to David, "You are the man!" This one
book is worth more than all the other books in the world! He who reads this book
with attention, humility, prayer, and self-application, can never be ignorant of
that which it chiefly concerns him to know. "Therein are contained the words of
eternal life. It has God for its Author, salvation for its object, and truth,
without mixture of error, for its matter." "Holy Bible! book divine! Precious
treasure! you are mine! Mine, to tell me whence I came; Mine, to teach me what I
am; Mine, to chide me when I rove; Mine, to show a Savior’s love! Mine you are,
to guide my feet; Mine, to judge, condemn, acquit; Mine, to comfort in distress,
If the Holy Spirit bless; Mine, to show, by living faith, Man can triumph over
death; Mine, to tell of joys to come, And the rebel sinner’s doom! O, you holy
book divine, Precious treasure! you are mine!" COMMON SENSE Common sense is a
most valuable quality. "The wisdom of the prudent is to understand his way;" to
see promptly what is the best thing to be done in the circumstances in which he
is placed; and what is the best way of setting about it. Of some people it may
be justly said, they have every sense but common sense; they can tell you about
the stars, and write fine poetry, and make fine speeches, and draw fine
pictures, and play fine music; but, as to handling a spade, or a hammer, or a
stocking-needle, they are as helpless as a babe or an idiot. They have scarcely
an idea of the food they eat, or the clothes they wear; to know how, where, and
by what means, they are procured, and what they are made of; but they depend
altogether upon the skill, care and industry of other people. And if they (like
Robinson Crusoe) should be cast on an uninhabited island, though surrounded with
the means of subsistence, they would perish for lack of a notion how to bring
them into use. They go through the world without opening their eyes to any of
the common objects around them. One of these learned simpletons having had a
hole cut in his study-door to admit a favorite cat, when the said cat brought
him a kitten, deemed it necessary to send for a carpenter to cut a smaller hole,
through which the kitten might pass; never once imagining that a cat and a
kitten could pass through the same hole. Another, walking round a favorite
meadow, about a mile in circumference, when he had gone three parts of the way,
looked at his watch, and finding it was near dinnertime, thought he had not time
to go quite round, but must hasten back as quickly as possible; thus making his
walk a mile and a half instead of a mile! A poor day-laborer would have known
better than to commit such a blunder. But "fine sense and exalted sense are not
half so useful as common sense." As every man knows that he cannot live long on
earth, but will live in another and an unknown world forever, it would be the
part of common sense to be more concerned and more active in securing the
interests of that long futurity, than those of this short and fleeting time; but
this is one sad proof of human depravity, that the generality of people are
"careful and troubled about many things" that concern their present interest,
ease, and gratification, and disregard "the one thing needful,"—the interests of
their souls, and their preparation for eternity. "O that they were wise; that
they understood this; that they would consider their latter end!" "What is a man
profited, if he shall gain the whole world—and lose his own soul, and be cast
away?" POLITENESS Some people are very fond of affecting a crude coarseness of
manners, and despise politeness among friends, as though it were inconsistent
with freedom and sincerity. How important that politeness should be cultivated
in every family; not the foolish, unmeaning ceremony of the world, but a gentle,
obliging demeanor towards all around us. "Politeness is not affection, but it is
one of the outworks of it; like a wall or a hedge round a garden, which
preserves it from being entrenched upon or trampled down." True politeness is
benevolence in trifles. Some people are naturally polite, and others naturally
churlish, or rather selfish; for selfishness is the great enemy to politeness,
as well as to generosity; and many people, even in polished life, who make loud
professions of benevolence and attachment to their friends, are yet too selfish
to deny themselves some trifling gratification, though at the expense and
inconvenience of a whole party. On the other hand, some, even among the rustic
classes of society, discover much native politeness. One mark of true politeness
is, that it never seeks to obtrude itself on the notice of those whom it
accommodates; but rather conceals than displays the personal sacrifice at which
it promotes their pleasure. It is noiseless in conferring a kindness, and is
never known to recall the attention of others to it; but seems to forget, or
rather actually forgets, acts of kindness, which are no strange things, but
perfectly habitual to it. Another branch of genuine politeness is, not to bring
forward a subject of conversation which is not understood by the party in
general, by which they cannot be really benefitted, or in which they cannot
harmoniously unite. Another feature is, that true politeness, without
compromising anything that duty or fidelity requires to be brought forward,
observes proper times and seasons for saying and doing things. Everything is
beautiful in its season; nothing is beautiful out of it. "Like one who takes
away a garment on a cold day, or like vinegar poured on soda, is one who sings
songs to a heavy heart." So is he who rudely reminds the fallen of past
greatness; that treats a superior with insolence; an inferior with contempt; an
equal with unkindness; who ostentatiously overdoes gratitude; or who pains the
generous and delicate mind by compelling it to decline giving that which it is
unable to bestow. Politeness may even be regarded as a Christian virtue; our
Lord and his apostles both practiced and inculcated it; we are repeatedly
admonished to be kind, patient, gentle to all men, pitiful and courteous. Among
other instances that might be given, the Epistle of Paul to Philemon discovers,
in every sentence, the very essence of politeness; and the whole character of
the Savior presents a living and perfect model. "My dear Redeemer and my Lord, I
read my duty in your word; But in your life the law appears Drawn out in living
characters. Be you my Pattern—make me bear More of your gracious image here." It
is of no small importance that those especially whose office it is to recommend
religion to others, should cultivate a kind, gentle and winning deportment. "We
were gentle among you, like a mother caring for her little children." A very
simple incident will serve to illustrate this sentiment. Many years ago, the son
of a highly respectable family was placed in business with his grandfather,
where it was his duty to answer the applications of people calling on business.
On one occasion, a stiff, prim, powdered minister came up, and in a haughty tone
addressed the youth: "Is your master at home?" Not long afterwards, a cheerful,
benevolent-looking gentleman called, and, on being answered by the same youth,
good-humoredly said to him, "Now, can you manage to ride my horse up and down a
few minutes while I go in and speak to Mr. —?" With cheerful alacrity the youth
complied with the request; and, contrasting the kind and gentle manners of this
visitor with the repulsive haughtiness of the minister, from that moment imbibed
a strong prejudice (if such it might be called) in favor of the pious
instructions imparted by the latter gentleman, and against those of the former.
The attractive visitor was the Rev. Richard Cecil, who was remarkably successful
in winning the attention of young people to the great truths that belong to
their everlasting peace; and herein, probably, was part of the secret of his
success. Gentleness and kindness of manners in the teacher, will not indeed
carry the gospel in power to the heart; but they may do much in removing the
covering of prejudice from the ears. It is something to gain the gospel a
favorable hearing; for faith comes by hearing: and the manners and deportment of
both ministers and private Christians should be such as to echo every invitation
of the gospel, saying, "Come with us, and we will do you good." On a journey,
one frequently has an opportunity of observing and contrasting the different
manners of coachmen, guards, waiters, and other people employed for the
accommodation of travelers; and the truth of the sentiment often presents itself
to the mind, "Nothing is cheaper than civility—nothing is more odious than
scorn." Certainly, if religion does a man any real good, it makes him more to be
depended on, and teaches him to behave with propriety to all with whom he comes
in contact. HELP AND PITY Some people seem to make it their employment to go
about, from house to house, to find out the calamities of their neighbors, only
to have the pleasure of carrying the news to the next house they go to. I once
heard one of these gossips. She had nearly talked herself out of breath, with
"Shocking news, I hear! poor Mr. Green is dead, and has left a large family
without a shilling to help them; and Mrs. Perry has fallen down stairs, and
broken her leg; I saw the doctor ride by, as I came along; and Farmer Smith’s
house has been burnt down; and Mrs. Wyman’s eldest daughter has lost her place,
at a minute’s warning. Dear, dear, what troubles there are in the world; it
really makes one’s heart ache to hear of them." Asked a good man, who stood
near, and who was quite as ready himself to lend a helping hand as to give a
word of advice, "what have you done to help all these people in their distress?"
"O, sir, it is not in my power to help them." "Indeed, I think you might find
out some way of being useful to them; if you only spent, in rendering help, the
very time that you squander in idle gossip, about their misfortunes, which, I
can’t help thinking, seems to afford you a sort of pleasure. I will tell you a
story: A traveler passing over a miserable road, the wheel of his carriage stuck
in a deep rut. He labored with all his might to extricate it, but in vain;
presently some one passing by said to him, ’You are in an awkward situation,
sir; how did the accident happen?’ Another came up, ’Dear, dear, what is the
matter? Well, what a good thing that your neck was not broken; but this road
ought to be fixed: there are continually accidents of one kind or another.’ A
third addressed him, ’I’m really sorry to see you so much heated and fatigued,
sir: I fear, too, your horse and carriage are injured. I am very sorry.’ ’Come
then,’ replied the unfortunate traveler, ’if you really are sorry, be so good as
to put a shoulder to the wheel; a grain of help is worth a bushel of pity.’" The
idle and impertinent curiosity of some people, in the time of a neighbor’s
distress, is ill concealed under professions of sympathy and pity, while, like
the priest and the Levite in the parable, they only come to the place and look,
and then pass by on the other side of the way. If sympathy and pity are really
felt, let them lead to conduct like that of the good Samaritan; for our Lord
says to each of us, "Go and do likewise." MAXIMS AGAINST SIN The maxims on sin,
and on several other subjects that follow, I have gleaned as opportunity
offered, partly from books, partly from the conversation of friends. I wish they
may be remembered by my children, and prove profitable to them in the hour of
temptation. "It is the mischievous property of sin—that it not only puts the
soul into hell, but puts hell into the soul." "That should be our chief trouble,
which is the cause of all the trouble in the world." "Nothing worth having, is
gotten by sin. Nothing worth keeping, is lost by holiness." "Tis bad trading
with sin and Satan, since we ourselves must pay for all at last." "By suffering
we may avoid sinning; but we cannot by sinning avoid suffering." "Fools make a
mock at sin," but "it will be bitterness in the end." "He who makes light of
small sins—is in the ready way to fall into great ones." "If we would not fall
into things unlawful things, we must not venture to the utmost bound of lawful
things. To tread upon the edge of a precipice is dangerous, if not destructive."
"Tis folly for a person to do that now, which he must shortly undo by
repentance, or be himself undone forever." "Carefully avoid those vices which
most resemble virtue. They are a thousand times the most ensnaring."
Covetousness, which looks very much like Prudent Care, is Idolatry! "Never do
evil that good may come thereby. That would be serving the devil, that God may
serve you." In order to avoid sin— 1. Do not run in the path of temptation. 2.
Maintain a constant watch and fear of sin. 3. Beware of pride and presumption.
4. Avoid and abhor slothfulness. 5. Remember, all strength and grace are in
Christ. By faith and prayer look to Him for them. 6. Continually seek the
sanctifying influences of the Holy Spirit. CONSCIENCE "Hearken to the warnings
of conscience, if you would not feel its wounds." "Stand in awe of your own
conscience." Prayer. "What conscience dictates to be done, Or warns me not to
do, This, teach me more than hell to shun, That, more than heaven pursue." "When
no observers are present, be afraid of yourself! That which we are afraid to do
before men, we should be afraid to think before God." "Remember there is a
witness everywhere, and a book in which every action is recorded, and from which
no record is ever blotted out, except by the precious blood of Christ."
"Conscience is either a man’s best friend—or his worst enemy." The only way to
have peaceful slumbers, or pleasant dreams—is by preserving a good conscience.
The state of the conscience has an amazing influence both on bodily health and
mental vigor. When the conscience is pure and peaceful, the health and spirits
are in a great measure preserved; and in sickness the physician finds a powerful
ally within, to second all his endeavors. On the other hand, a disturbed
conscience produces a burning brow, a restless, feverish state of spirits, and
that which resists all the efforts of the healing art. "It is of no use," said a
miserable wretch to the physician who offered him medicine; "doctors cannot
reach a diseased conscience." It is a great mercy to have an enlightened
conscience—which can discern between good and evil; a tender conscience—which
shrinks from the touch of evil; a wakeful conscience—which perceives the
approach of evil; a peaceful conscience, healed and cleansed by the blood of
sprinkling; a clear conscience, void of offence, both towards God and man; a
sanctified conscience, with which the Holy Spirit bears witness that we have in
sincerity received the Lord Jesus Christ by faith, and that we are children of
God, and joint-heirs with Jesus Christ. The following story illustrates the
power of conscience—A butcher who resided in the west of England, and had for
several years been in the practice of keeping a stall for the sale of meat, in
one of the neighboring markets, having given way to the sin of falsehood, his
heart became hardened, and he was then an easy prey to a temptation, by yielding
to which, as the following particulars will show, he embittered almost the whole
of his future life. It happened, on one occasion, that a lady, having purchased
some meat of him, accidentally left her purse; on discovering her loss, she
returned to the butcher to inquire for it, but he firmly denied having seen it.
The lady was too fully convinced that she had left it on his stall, to be easily
satisfied with his denial; but it was in vain she endeavored to bring to his
recollection the circumstances relative to the transaction: every remonstrance
was useless; he still persisted that he had no knowledge of the purse or its
contents. The lady, not inclining to press the subject further, submitted to the
loss, (which was about four pounds,) but from that time declined having any
further dealings with one who could act so dishonestly. Some years after this,
the butcher became reduced in his circumstances, and at length was under the
necessity of declining his business, after which he engaged in the occupation of
a pig driver. While thus employed, he fell from his horse, by which he was so
much injured that he was able to use but little personal exertion during the
remainder of his life; and having no other means of support, he was obliged to
apply to the parish for relief. In this dependent and helpless situation he
survived many years, for a time noted for the sullenness of his disposition, and
unaccommodating habits. But as he advanced in age, his mind became suddenly
impressed with the awfulness of eternity, and a recollection of his ill-spent
life became most burdensome to him, which was very evident from his general
conduct, though the person with whom he lived was not aware that he was then
suffering from the remorse of an awakened conscience. She had been particularly
struck with the very scanty manner in which he supported himself; for, trifling
as his income was, he could not be prevailed upon, by all her arguments, to
spend the whole of it, nor to disclose his reasons for doing so. At length he
had little by little saved as much as he apprehended the lost purse contained.
He then related the whole affair to his hostess, acknowledged that the lady had
left the purse upon his stall, that his son had concealed it with his knowledge,
and that, on her application, he had denied the fact; that under a feeling of
severe remorse for the wicked transaction, he could find no peace until he had
restored the amount which the purse contained to its proper owner. He then gave
his accumulated savings to the woman, with directions to take it to the lady,
who lived about five miles from him, which she accordingly did. This happened
after an interval of about fifteen years from the time the purse was lost. From
this period to his death he manifested a desire to be prepared for the final
change; his general conduct was very satisfactory, and he was enabled, by faith
in Christ, to look forward with a confident hope of pardon and everlasting life.
How grateful ought we to be, when awakened to a sense of our guilt! Surely it is
a proof that we are not given up to the enemy of our souls: it shows that the
Lord has not forsaken us. And when thus mercifully made sensible of our sins,
may we be enabled by faith to behold the "Lamb of God which takes away the sin
of the world!" It is by grace alone that we are kept from falling—may we then
endeavor constantly to live in the spirit of prayer, that we may be enabled to
resist temptation! How little are we able to repel the assaults of an enemy,
without any preparation beforehand! May we be encouraged by the assurance that
every time we are strengthened by the Holy Spirit to overcome temptation, we
shall find that resistance to evil becomes more easy. But may we also remember,
that every time we fall in with temptation, we are increasing the power of Satan
over us, and thereby adding difficulties in our path which may eventually lead
to our eternal misery! Let us therefore habitually remember our own weakness and
our surrounding dangers, that we may continually say unto God, "Hold me up—and I
shall be safe!" MAXIMS ON SELF-EXAMINATION "Examine yourselves. What! Don’t you
know your own selves?" "Keep the heart with all diligence, for out of it are the
issues of life." "In the morning, consider what you have to do; and in the
evening, what you have done." "Man, know yourself; all wisdom centers here." The
following lines, by Dr. Watts, are recommended to all young people to commit to
memory. Evening Reflections. "Let not soft slumber close your eyes Before you’ve
recollected thrice The train of actions through the day: Where have my feet
chose out their way? What have I learned, wherever I’ve been, From all I’ve
heard, from all I’ve seen? What know I more, that’s worth the knowing? What have
I done, that’s worth the doing? What have I sought, that I should shun? What
duties have I left undone? Or into what new follies run? These self-inquiries
are the road That leads to virtue, peace, and God!" Just as it is wise to keep
clear accounts of our receipts and expenses, our debts and engagements, so it is
wise constantly to examine and compare our heart and conduct with the Word of
God; to see what duties have devolved upon us, and whether we have discharged
them, or failed in them, and what means can be adopted to promote
circumspection, diligence, and fidelity in future. These reviews, if faithfully
entered into, will often be humbling and painful, but they will be no less
profitable. The more we know of ourselves—the less we shall be inclined to rely
on our own merits, or to trust our own strength. And the more earnestly we shall
desire an interest in the perfect righteousness and all-sufficient atonement of
the Lord Jesus Christ, and in the influences of his Holy Spirit to purify our
souls, and to quicken and sustain us in the paths of holiness. The practice of
self-examination has been recommended and observed by good and wise men in all
ages. It is a pleasure to add the testimony of the present sovereign of England,
King William the Fourth. He lately said, that, when a midshipman in the British
navy, he was obliged to keep a logbook fairly written; and thus, he said, he
acquired a habit, which he had found of the greatest benefit through life, that
of recording the occurrences of the day, and submitting his actions to the
scrutiny of self-examination. REPENTANCE "While we live in a sinful world, and
carry about with us a body of sin and death, repentance must be the work of
every day." "We sin enough every day to sorrow for it, and to be humbled for all
our lives." "If repentance on earth is bitter—what will remorse in hell be?" "He
who covers his sins shall not prosper, but whoever confesses and forsakes them
shall have mercy." "Repentance is a plank thrown out after shipwreck—he who
neglects it sinks inevitably." "Worldly joy ends in sorrow. Spiritual sorrow
ends in joy." "Let none defer repentance until another day. He who has promised
pardon on our repentance, has not promised life until we repent." "If we put off
repentance to another day, we have the sins of another day to repent of, and a
day less to repent in." "They shall look on Him whom they have pierced, and
shall mourn." Zechariah 12:10. "Repentance is the tear of love, dropping from
the eye of faith, when it fixes on Christ crucified. Repentance begins in the
humiliation of the heart, and ends in the reformation of the heart and of the
life." Sincere repentance is never too late, but late repentance is seldom
sincere. The thief on the cross repented, and was pardoned in the last hour of
his life. We have one such instance in scripture—that none might despair; and
only one—that none might presume. Still, however, the probability that apparent
repentance, which comes at a dying hour, will be genuine, is very small. The
following fact will furnish an affecting illustration of this sentiment, and a
solemn warning against the too common delusion of deferring the work of
repentance to a dying bed— The faithful and laborious clergyman of a very large
and populous parish had been accustomed, for a long series of years, to preserve
notes of his visits to the afflicted, with remarks on the outcome of their
affliction, whether life or death, and of the subsequent conduct of those who
recovered. He stated, that, during forty years, he had visited no less than two
thousand people apparently drawing near to death, and who revealed such signs of
penitence as would have led him to indulge a good hope of their eternal
safety—if they had died at that moment. When they were restored to life and
health—he eagerly looked that they should bring forth fruits fit for repentance;
but alas! of the two thousand, only two people manifested an abiding and saving
change! The rest, when the terrors of eternity ceased to be in immediate
prospect, forgot their pious impressions and their solemn vows—and returned with
new avidity to their former worldly-mindedness and sinful pursuits, "as the dog
returns to his vomit again, and as the sow that was washed to her wallowing in
the mire."


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  CHAPTER 8: I - SECTION 8
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The Family at Home Familiar Illustrations of Various Domestic Duties by Gorham
D. Abbott, 1833

Section 8 THE DREADFUL STATE OF A WICKED MAN "A wicked man is like one that
hangs over a deep pit by a slender cord, which he holds with one hand and is
cutting with the other." A gentleman much addicted to profane swearing
accompanied a pious miner to see one of the mines in Cornwall. During his visit
to the pit, he distressed his companion by many profane and abominable
expressions; and as they ascended together, finding it a long way, he flippantly
said, "As it is so far down to your work, how far do you suppose it is to hell?"
The miner promptly replied, "I do not know how far it is to hell, sir; but I
believe that, if the rope by which we are drawn up should break, you would be
there in one minute!" SICKNESS, RECOVERY, DEATH In times of general sickness,
God requires us to be active and kind in ministering to the temporal and
spiritual needs of our neighbors, and in endeavoring to lead them to a suitable
improvement of the dispensations of Providence. To those in health, we may say,
"It is as great a mercy to be preserved in health as to be restored from
sickness; but remember, now is the time to prepare for sickness and death.
Hitherto the stroke has passed by you, but that is only to give you an
opportunity to prepare for it. When God strikes your neighbor, he threatens you;
when he wounds another, he warns you. Life is the time to prepare for death; and
health is the time to prepare for sickness. Delay not preparations for death
until you are stretched in agony or insensibility on a dying bed. Now is the
time to think about your soul; then you will have enough to do to bear the pains
of the body. He who would reap comfort in sickness, must sow it in health. It is
in vain to defer the evil day, and put far from you the thoughts of dying; ready
or unready, death will come, and there is no discharge in that warfare. Death
will be most terrible to those who have not, in anticipation, died daily. None
are the more likely to die for being prepared for it, nor will men’s keeping it
out of sight, and out of mind, keep it a single moment from them!" There is
nothing terrible in death but what our sins have made so; and even now, death
has no terrors of which faith in Christ cannot strip it. The sting of death is
sin, and the strength of sin is the law; but acquittal and victory may be
obtained by faith in Christ Jesus our Lord. "We should think of death, as if we
were dying, and not rest satisfied with anything short of that which would
satisfy us if we knew that this moment would be our last." "Let us familiarize
death by meditation, and sweeten it by preparation." "It is the great business
of life to prepare for death, and to lay hold on eternal life." "Death will
introduce us to the judgment-seat of Christ: if death is our friend, and the
Judge our friend, then we need not fear." That man is in a miserable state, to
whom it is death to think of death, or discourse of death; and to put away the
thoughts of death no more gives peace and security, than the child’s shutting
his eyes in a storm preserves him from the danger at which he is terrified.
"Death often comes without a warning, but never without a warrant, and a warrant
which brooks no delays in its execution." "When a believer dies, he leaves all
his bad behind, and carries all his good away; but when a sinner dies, he leaves
all his good things behind him, and carries with him all his bad—a load which
sinks him into the pit of everlasting perdition." To those recovered from
sickness, God seems to say, "Sin no more, lest a worse thing come upon you!"
Remember, a respite is not a reprieve; and though, in your late affliction, you
were nearer to death in your own apprehension than you are now, it is certain,
in fact, that death was never so near you, as at the present moment. Look back
and reflect what it was that gave you the most pain and alarm on that bed of
sickness, and avoid it, as you would avoid planting your dying pillow with
thorns. A glimmering of eternity breaks in upon the sick chamber, and shows the
world and sin in their true light. Accustom yourself to think of them as you
then thought, and allow not yourself to be deceived by the false glare that too
often rests upon them. The world is as vain and empty, and sin as ruinous and
dreadful, as they appeared when death and eternity seemed just at hand. Your
answered prayers and enjoyed mercies now demand returns of gratitude and praise.
The vows you made in sickness must now be fulfilled in holy obedience. "What
shall I render unto the Lord for all his benefits? I will take the cup of
salvation, and call upon the name of the Lord. Because He has heard my prayer
and my supplication, therefore I will call upon Him as long as I live. I will
pay unto the Lord my vows, which my lips have uttered and my mouth has spoken
when I was in trouble." I shall now set down some of those comforting sayings
which I have heard a minister address to pious people in prospect of death.
"Death to a Christian, is but putting off rags for robes—is but exchanging a
dungeon for a palace!" "Sin has long been your greatest grief; but that period
is very near at hand when— ’Sin, your worst enemy before, Shall vex your eyes
and ears no more; Your inward foes shall all be slain, Nor Satan break your
peace again.’ Sin received its sentence of death in the death of Christ; but it
does not receive its execution until the death of the Christian." "The great
comfort of a believer on his death-bed is faith in Christ, hope in the promises,
and interest in the covenant: by these, death is stripped of its terrors, and
the glories of eternity brought full in view." "Your best friends are gone to
heaven before you, or will soon follow after, and Christ is waiting to receive
you, which is best of all." That Christian (the mother of Philip Henry) was in a
happy frame who said, "My Head is in heaven—my heart is in heaven: it is but a
few more steps, and I shall be there also." And another (the Rev. Joseph Mead),
who, on being asked how he found himself, answered, "Well and happy, and going
home, as every honest man should do when his day’s work is done; and I bless God
I have a good home to go to." There is nothing more grievous to a godly man,
than to see aged people tottering over the grave, and yet unmindful of eternity.
"Oh!" he will say, "it is a dreadful sight to see old people making more
provision for life than preparation for death! What awful folly and madness, to
prepare that which they cannot enjoy—and to neglect that which they cannot
avoid. The steel being spent—the knife cannot cut; the sun being set—the day
cannot tarry; and old age being come—life cannot long endure. It is the eleventh
hour, and almost the last minute of that hour. The lamp is just flickering in
the socket, and there is the whole work of a life to do—or the soul must be
undone forever!" I once heard the following conversation between an old man and
a Mr. Wilson, "Well, my friend," said Mr. W., "you have had a long walk; how old
are you?" "Seventy-three, sir, last birthday." "And you are still permitted to
enjoy a comfortable degree of health and vigor." "Oh, yes, as well as ever I was
in my life; as likely to live fifty years as anybody." "Oh, my friend, do not
deceive yourself with so very improbable an idea. It is very unlikely you should
live fifty months; you have already been permitted to advance far beyond the
ordinary boundaries of the life of man; and you ought to live in daily
expectation of death, and in constant preparation for it. What is your hope for
another world, if today should finish your existence in this life?" "Time enough
to think about that, sir, when death is a little nearer. I hope I shan’t be cut
off so quickly but what I shall have time to say, ’Lord, have mercy upon me!’"
"Alas! alas! and can you venture your immortal soul on such a vain, precarious
foundation? If you really think you shall need mercy, then, why do you not cry
for mercy now, while the opportunity is afforded you? My soul trembles to think
of your awful condition." "Don’t disturb yourself about me," said the insensible
old man; "you know every tub must stand upon its own bottom; and I dare say I
shall do very well at last. Good day to you, sir." Mr. Wilson then turned to
some young people who happened to be present, and charged us to remember our
Creator in the days of our youth, and not deceive ourselves with the thought
that old age must needs bring piety with it. A very few weeks after this, I saw
the old man’s son, and learned that his father was dead; and there was every
reason to fear that he died as he had lived, without God and without hope. "I am
very poorly," said another old man to Mr. Wilson; "I have had another severe
plunge since I saw you." After detailing the particulars of his affliction, he
added, "I have been a great sufferer in my time. Have I not seen a great deal of
affliction? Well, it is best to have it all here; it is to be hoped there will
be no more of it hereafter." "But what reasons have you, my friend, for
indulging such a hope? The troubles and sorrows of this world have nothing to do
with another, except so far as they produce a good or bad effect on those who
are exercised by them." "For my part, I have nothing to fear about another
world; I have always led a good life; never followed any bad ways. I never
cheated any body—never was spiteful—I owe nobody anything—I am sure to do well."
"Come, then, a still small whisper in your ear; He has no hope who never had a
fear; And he who never doubted of his state, He may perhaps—perhaps he may—too
late." "But what have I to be afraid of?—Do you think I have been a wicked man?"
"My dear friend, I have known you for many years to be an upright, kind-hearted
neighbor, one who would feel pleasure in doing good to anyone. Hence you have a
claim on anyone who has it in his power, or thinks he has, to do you good. This
very feeling of respect and gratitude urges me to press upon you a serious
examination into the grounds of your hope for eternity. For my own part, I know
of no other hope than what the Bible reveals; and though I have read my Bible
for many years, I never yet met with a passage that intimated, that merely
avoiding to cheat or injure his neighbor, would insure a man a place in heaven.
Have you thought, my friend, of the relation in which you stand to God, and in
what manner you have discharged your duty to him, as well as to your
fellow-creatures?" "Why, you know God Almighty is very merciful?" "True; He is
infinitely merciful. For the very best of us, with all our good deeds and kind
actions to our fellow-creatures, deserve at his hands nothing but wrath and
destruction. It is of his tender love and mercy that he has sent his
only-begotten Son into the world to die for guilty men and women, in order that
mercy might be extended to all who humbly believe and accept this great
salvation. But the blessed God is never merciful at the expense of his justice.
He will never set aside the demands of his holy law, nor accept our poor,
worthless doings as an atonement for our sins; nor will he acquit or save any
but those who believe and obey the gospel of the Lord Jesus Christ. Pardon my
freedom in entreating that you will read the holy scriptures, especially the
Gospels, and that you will earnestly pray for the Holy Spirit to help you to
understand their true meaning; that, if you have been in error as to your state,
and building your hopes for heaven on a false foundation, you may be convinced
of your error while yet there remains time and hope of amending it." "Be so good
as to examine the following passages, and seriously inquire what aspect they
bear on your character and state. ’By the deeds of the law shall no man living
be justified in His sight.’ ’There is none righteous, no, not one; for all have
sinned and come short of the glory of God.’ Romans 3:10, 20, 23. ’Except a man
is born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God.’ John 3:3. ’God so loved the
world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whoever believes in him should
not perish, but have everlasting life.’ ’He who believes on the Son has
everlasting life: and he who believes not the Son shall not see life; but the
wrath of God abides on him.’ John 3:16, 36. ’Neither is there salvation in any
other—for there is no other name under heaven given among men whereby we must be
saved.’ Acts 4:12. ’Therefore, thus says the Lord God—Behold, I lay in Zion for
a foundation a stone, a tried stone, a precious corner stone, a sure foundation:
he who believes shall not make be disappointed. Judgment also will I lay to the
line, and righteousness to the plummet; and the hail shall sweep away the refuge
of lies, and the waters shall overflow the hiding-place.’ Isaiah 28:16, 17.
’Seek the Lord while he may be found; call you upon him while he is near.’
Isaiah 55:6. ’There is no God else beside me; a just God and a Savior: there is
none beside me. Look unto me, and be saved, all the ends of the earth. Surely,
shall one say, in the Lord have I righteousness and strength.’ Isaiah 45:21, 22,
24. "Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax
collector. The Pharisee stood up and prayed about himself: ’God, I thank you
that I am not like other men--robbers, evildoers, adulterers--or even like this
tax collector. I fast twice a week and give a tenth of all I get.’ "But the tax
collector stood at a distance. He would not even look up to heaven, but beat his
breast and said, ’God, have mercy on me, a sinner.’ "I tell you that this man,
rather than the other, went home justified before God. For everyone who exalts
himself will be humbled, and he who humbles himself will be exalted." Luke
18:10-14. TRUE RICHES I have heard of a great nobleman in the north of England,
who used to boast of his great riches. On one occasion, he said to a gentleman
who accompanied him in a walk, "These beautiful grounds, as far as your eye can
reach, belong to me; those majestic woods on the brow of the distant hills are
mine. Those extensive and valuable mines belong to me; yonder powerful
steam-engine is employed by me in obtaining the produce of the mines; and those
ships in conveying my wealth to other parts of the kingdom; fire, water, earth,
and air, all are tributary to me." "Well, Sir," replied the gentleman, "do you
see yonder little hovel that seems but a speck in your estate? There dwells a
poor woman, who can say more than all this; for she can say, ’Christ is mine.’
In a very few years, your possessions will be confined within the scanty limits
of six feet by two; but she will then have entered on a far nobler inheritance
than your lordship now possesses—an inheritance incorruptible, undefiled, and
that fades not away, reserved in heaven for her, who is now kept by the power of
God, through faith unto salvation." The following sayings are worth remembering—
"He is the richest man who desires no superfluities, and lacks no necessaries."
"To have a portion in the world is a mercy; to have the world for our chief
portion is a misery." "Wealth is a common gift of God’s hand; but wisdom to
improve it is a special grace from his heart." "We put a price upon riches, but
riches cannot put a price upon us. We must answer for them, but they cannot
answer for us." "The contented man has two heavens; one here in his own bosom,
another hereafter in Abraham’s bosom." "There is no miss of the creature where
there is a full enjoyment of the Creator, any more than of a candle when the sun
shines at noon-day, or of a cistern when we have the fountain at command."
CROSSES AND AFFLICTIONS Submission, unreserved submission, is not only the most
reasonable thing imaginable, but the most calming, consoling state of mind in
this valley of tears, and produces the happiest effects on ourselves and on all
around us, especially when accompanied with daily earnest prayer for those in
particular whom we regard as most instrumental in occasioning or increasing our
trials. Mr. Newton used to say, "A sinner has no right to complain; and a saint
has no question." "No affliction for the present seems joyous, but grievous;"
and even godly people are too apt to construe their afflictions into expressions
of divine displeasure against them, and to discourage themselves with the idea
that they cannot be the children of God, or they would not be thus hardly dealt
with. I remember hearing a conversation between Mr. Wilson and a godly woman who
had been exercised with a series of trials, both in worldly circumstances and
family bereavements. It was something to the following effect— Mr. W.—"Well, my
friend, the Lord has chastened you sorely, but he has not given you up to
death." Woman.—"Not quite to death, sir, but almost to despair. It is a bad sign
that I should need to be so hardly dealt with; I must have a deal of wickedness
in my heart. Indeed, I think no one can be so wicked as I; and now I begin to
think that God has cast me off forever." Mr. W.—"It certainly is a bad sign that
we need affliction, as it is a sign that we are sick when we need physic. But it
is more hopeful to have medicine administered, however bitter, than to be left a
prey to our spiritual diseases. ’Tis a worse sign to be always without
chastisement than to be often under chastisement; and, instead of fearing that
God has cast you off, you have reason to be thankful for these merciful
intimations that He designs your cure. Afflictions are God’s potions, which we
may sweeten by faith and prayer; but we are too apt to make them bitter, by
putting into God’s cup the ill ingredients of our own impatience and unbelief."
Woman.—"That’s too true, sir. I wish there was more submission in my heart, and
then my troubles would be more easily borne; but here I sit, day after day,
thinking of what I have lost, and how I have been exercised; and every day seems
to bring some new trial, and it seems as if there was no end to sorrow." Mr.
W.—"Yet do not imagine that any strange thing has happened to you. The same
afflictions are accomplished in your brethren, and it is no more than what you
have been forewarned of. There are daily crosses as well as daily bread; and if
we are enabled to take them up, and bear them with the temper and spirit of true
Christians, we have reason to hope for the gracious assistance of our Lord in
bearing our burden, and in making it a real blessing to us; but as to the end of
our burdens and sorrows, we are not to expect it until we lay down our burden
and our life together." Woman.—"I often think, sir, that I could have borne any
trial better than my own." Mr. W.—"Yours is a very common mistake; but these are
true sayings, ’Your own clothes cannot be so well fitted to you as your own
crosses.’ ’It is a presumptuous child who would choose his own rod, and an
unreasonable Christian who would choose his own cross.’ A cross we must have;
and those that are made in heaven best fit the saints’ backs, while those that
we make by our own folly and perverseness are the most galling and the least
profitable." Woman.—"True, sir; so I find it. The sorest of all my troubles come
through the misconduct of an overindulged child, whom I made my idol." Mr.
W.—"Ah! my friend, ’Whatever we make an idol of will be a cross to us if we are
God’s children, and a curse to us if we are not.’ But what a mercy it is, that
though God makes our own backslidings to reprove us, and our folly to chastise
us, he does not utterly take his mercy from us, nor allow his faithfulness to
fail. Your great concern now should be, to humble yourself under the mighty hand
of God, to take refuge in the mercy of Him who smites you, and to see that the
end of these painful dispensations is answered in you. ’Though the hand of God
may seem to be against you—his heart may be towards you!’ ’Afflictions are sent,
not to drive you from God, but to draw you to him.’ ’By afflictions God
separates the soul he loves from the sin he hates.’ ’Grieve not too much after
outward losses; God never takes from his people any earthly enjoyment, but he
gives them something as good or better in its place.’ Whatever you have lost in
the creature, you may find in God; and if these sorrows bring you to cling more
closely to Him, as your comfort in life and your portion in death, you may say,
as a saint of old said, ’It is good for me that I have been afflicted.’
Afflictions are rather promised than threatened to the people of God.’
Afflictions make a large article in God’s inventory of good things, and ’no good
thing will he withhold from those who walk uprightly.’ How much mercy and
consolation are contained in that declaration, ’As many as I love, I rebuke and
chasten!’ So far, then, from taking afflictions as evidences of the divine
displeasure, we should rather receive them as tokens of fatherly love; and
instead of fearing that we are in the wrong road, because we find it rough and
thorny, we should be encouraged by the assurance that the way to heaven is
through much tribulation. Humility can draw out all the bitterness from the cup
of sorrow, and faith can replace it with sweet consolation. Thus many a saint
besides the apostle has found that ’as suffering abounds, consolations much more
abound,’ and has learned to ’glory in tribulation; knowing that tribulation
works patience, and patience experience, and experience hope; and hope makes not
ashamed, because the love of God is shed abroad in the heart by the power of the
Holy Spirit.’" Much more, in the same strain, the good man addressed to his
afflicted friend, and marked down many precious passages of scripture for her to
ponder over in solitude. Before he left the room, he turned to me, then a
mirthful girl, who had never tasted sorrow, and said, "Remember that your time
of sorrow will come. Though you live many years, and rejoice in them all, yet
remember the days of darkness, for they will be many. One great means to lessen
troubles when they come, is to expect and think upon them before they come.
Evils will come never the sooner for our being aware of them, but they will come
the easier. ’Preparation to meet sorrow is labor well lost if it comes not, and
labor well bestowed if it comes;’ and how can we obtain preparation for meeting
affliction? By having the heart established in faith on the Lord Jesus. If our
sins are pardoned, the sting of affliction, as well as of death, is taken away.
If the friendship of God is secured, we shall never lack support, comfort, or
protection. If we have a portion in heaven, we may well bear all the losses,
crosses, and trials of earth. If we are the children of God, all things will
work together for our good; and ’our light afflictions, which are but for a
moment, will work for us a far more exceeding, and an eternal weight of glory;
while we look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not
seen; for the things which are seen are temporal, but the things which are not
seen are eternal.’" Since that time, as the good old gentleman told me, I have
seen many days of trouble; and his good sayings have often come into my mind and
cheered me, especially those blessed portions of scripture which encourage us in
the darkest seasons to put our trust in the mercy of God through Jesus Christ:
and that is among the uses of affliction; it leads us to search the blessed
volume for promises on which to rest our hope. I, for one, may well say, "Unless
your law had been my delight, I would then have perished in my affliction."
"This was my comfort when I bore Variety of grief, It made me learn your word
the more, And fly to that relief." The following lines were repeated to a
minister, by a poor and pious female, when her husband appeared to be dying,
leaving her with nine children— "Long have I viewed, long have I thought, And
trembling held this bitter draught; But now resolved and firm I’ll be, Since
’tis prepared and mixed by Thee! I’ll trust my great Physician’s skill; What He
prescribes can ne’er be ill; No longer will I grieve or pine; Your pleasure
’tis, it shall be mine. Your medicine oft produces smart; You wounded me in the
tenderest part; All that I prized below is gone, Yet, Father, still, Your will
be done. Since ’tis your sentence I should part With what is nearest to my
heart, My little all I here resign, And, lo, my heart itself is Thine. Take all,
great God; I will not grieve, But wish I still had more to give; I hear your
voice; you bid me quit This favored gourd—and I submit." THE WIDOW AND THE
FATHERLESS It is mentioned as one prominent feature of pure religion, "to visit
the fatherless and the widows in their affliction." I well remember, when my
dear father died, that some of our kind, godly friends came to see my poor
mother, and one of them said to her, "This day, my friend, you become heiress to
promises more numerous, full, and particular, than to any other state or
condition mentioned in scripture; and from this day forward it will be your
privilege to plead at the throne of grace: ’Lord, you have seen fit to make me a
widow, and these my children fatherless; and now, remember the word unto your
servant on which you have caused me to hope.’" This sentiment rested on the mind
of my dear mother, and often roused her fortitude when she seemed ready to sink
in overwhelming grief. And she, and those dependent on her, ever had reason to
say that not one good thing failed them, of all that the Lord had spoken. We had
struggles, to be sure, and sometimes met with unkindness and oppression; but
often friends and protectors were raised up, and sources of supply opened most
unexpectedly and seasonably. We were all of us willing to work, and, under the
blessing of God, our hands have been sufficient for us. Above all, the prayers
of our parents were answered in our family being preserved in peace and love,
and each of us, I trust, brought to love and serve the God in whom they trusted.
When we read a passage of scripture together, and anything struck my mother as
particularly suitable, she would often say, "Mark that place down, child; we may
be glad to refer again to it ourselves: besides, there are many widows in
Israel; and glad should I be to point out to another that which has brought
comfort to my own mind." In this manner, I got a number of passages marked down
under different particulars, applicable to the case of widows and fatherless
children; such as these: God has taken widows and fatherless children under his
special care and protection. "The Lord relieves the fatherless and the widow."
Psalms 146:9. "A Father of the fatherless and a Judge of the widows is God in
his holy habitation." Psalms 68:5. "Leave your fatherless children; I will
preserve them alive; and let your widows trust in me." Jeremiah 49:11. "The Lord
will establish the border of the widow." Proverbs 15:25. "In you the fatherless
finds mercy." Hosea 14:3. "You are the Helper of the fatherless. Lord, you have
heard the desire of the humble. You will prepare their heart. You will cause
your ear to hear, to judge the fatherless and the oppressed, that the man of the
earth may no more oppress." Psalms 10:14, 17, 18. "Remove not the old landmarks,
and enter not into the fields of the fatherless, for their Redeemer is mighty,
and he shall plead their cause." Proverbs 23:10, 11. Many of the laws given to
God’s ancient people, the Jews, express his tender concern for the widow and the
fatherless. "Do not take advantage of a widow or an orphan. If you do and they
cry out to me, I will certainly hear their cry. My anger will be aroused, and I
will kill you with the sword; your wives will become widows and your children
fatherless." Exodus 22:22-24. "The Lord executes the judgment of the fatherless
and the widow." Deuteronomy 10:18. "And the fatherless and the widow which are
within your gates, shall come and shall eat, and be satisfied, that the Lord
your God may bless you in all the works of your hand which you do." Deuteronomy
14:29. "Do not deprive the alien or the fatherless of justice, or take the cloak
of the widow as a pledge. When you are harvesting in your field and you overlook
a sheaf, do not go back to get it. Leave it for the alien, the fatherless and
the widow, so that the Lord your God may bless you in all the work of your
hands." Deuteronomy 24:17, 19. It is often mentioned in scripture as a good
feature of character, to be kind and tender to the widow and the fatherless.
Those who are so, are encouraged to pray for a blessing on their substance:
"When you have finished setting aside a tenth of all your produce in the third
year, the year of the tithe, you shall give it to the Levite, the alien, the
fatherless and the widow, so that they may eat in your towns and be satisfied.
Then say to the Lord your God: "I have removed from my house the sacred portion
and have given it to the Levite, the alien, the fatherless and the widow,
according to all you commanded. I have not turned aside from your commands nor
have I forgotten any of them. Look down from heaven, your holy dwelling place,
and bless your people Israel and the land you have given us as you promised on
oath to our forefathers, a land flowing with milk and honey." Deuteronomy 26:12,
13, 15. Job, in the time of his affliction, was comforted by recollecting that,
in the time of his prosperity, he "delivered the poor that cried, and the
fatherless, and him that had none to help him. The blessing of him that was
ready to perish came upon him, and he made the widow’s heart to sing for joy."
Job 29:12, 13, 31:16, 17. Such conduct is mentioned as an evidence of genuine
piety: "Pure religion, and undefiled before God and the Father, is this, To
visit the fatherless and the widows in their affliction, and to keep himself
unspotted from the world." James 1:27. "Cease to do evil; learn to do well;
relieve the oppressed; judge the fatherless; plead for the widow." Isaiah 1:17.
"If any widow has children or nephews, let them learn first to show piety at
home, and to requite their parents; for this is good and acceptable before God."
1 Timothy 5:4. Cruelty, oppression, and even neglect of the widow and
fatherless, are severely censured. In the description of the wicked it is said,
"They drive away the donkey of the fatherless, and take the widow’s ox for a
pledge; they do not good to the widow." Job 24:3, 21. It is given as a mark of
the grossest hypocrisy, "which devour widows’ houses, and for a pretense make
long prayers." Mark 12:40. There is an awful curse against "him who perverts the
judgment of the stranger, fatherless, and widow; and all the people shall say,
Amen." Deuteronomy 27:19. "So I will come near to you for judgment. I will be
quick to testify against sorcerers, adulterers and perjurers, against those who
defraud laborers of their wages, who oppress the widows and the fatherless, and
deprive aliens of justice, but do not fear me," says the Lord Almighty." Malachi
3:5. "Give proper recognition to those widows who are really in need. The widow
who is really in need and left all alone puts her hope in God and continues
night and day to pray and to ask God for help." 1 Timothy 5:3, 5. Such a widow
was the prophetess Anna, who departed not from the temple, but served God with
fastings and prayers night and day; and was there favored with a sight of the
infant Savior. Luke 2:37. The poor widow’s offering of two mites for the service
of the sanctuary, was graciously accepted and acknowledged above all the costly
gifts of the rich and proud. Mark 12:42. It is very probable, though not
certain, that the active and benevolent Dorcas was a widow, who cheered her own
solitude by laboring for the good of others. Acts 9:36-41. We have also, in
scripture, some remarkable appearances of Providence on behalf of widows. The
prophet Elijah was sent to the widow of Zarephath, not only for his own
sustenance during the famine, but also to multiply her scanty store for the
sufficient supply of her household. He was also permitted to raise her only son
to life. 1 Kings 17:1-24. The prophet Elisha was permitted to multiply the
widow’s oil, so as to supply her with the means of honorably discharging her
husband’s debt and supporting her children. 2 Kings 4:1-7. The widow weeping
over the bier of her only son, experienced the compassion and sympathy of the
Son of God. He said unto her, "Weep not;" and restored the young man to life.
Luke 7:11-15. When expiring on the cross, our Lord provided for his widowed and
destitute mother an asylum in the house of his beloved disciple, John 19:26, 27;
and, to the present day, many widows and fatherless children can attest their
experience of the compassion, faithfulness, and care of Him, who will be known
as the Father of the fatherless and the God of the widow. CHRISTIAN CONTENTMENT
AND CHEERFULNESS We had in our village two old women, who lived next door to
each other, and whose outward circumstances were in every respect as similar as
possible; but their tempers and dispositions as complete a contrast. Jenny Moore
was always complaining; Amy Scott was always contented and grateful. A kind lady
was in the habit of looking in upon them occasionally. One conversation with
each would serve as a picture of their general habit and temper. Lady.—"Good
morning, Mrs. Moore; I hope you are well this fine day." Jenny.—"It is a fine
day, to be sure; but ’tis piercing cold, and I am not well; very poorly, indeed,
ma’am; hardly able to get about. I am always bad with the rheumatism."
Lady.—"That is a trying pain. I suppose you are using means to remove it."
Jenny.—"No, not I; poor folks must bear their pains. It is not like the rich,
who can have proper advice, and things to make them comfortable." Lady.—"Shall I
give you a turn for the dispensary? You might then have medicines and attendance
free of expense." Jenny.—"Why, for the matter of that, I have got a turn; the
rector gave me one last week; but I don’t see that doctor’s stuff does much
good. Besides, the doctor hardly ever calls on me, because I am a poor woman. He
has been but once this week, though I have seen him go by twice a day to Mrs.
Burroughs. But then she’s a lady, and there’s something to be got by going to
her." Lady.—"Mrs. Burroughs is ill of a fever, and requires constant attention,
which a rheumatic complaint does not require. However, if you feel yourself
neglected, I will call and speak to the doctor. He is a kind, humane man, and, I
am sure, will be willing to pay you every proper attention, and do all in his
power to relieve your pains." Jenny.—"Thank you, ma’am; but it is of no use to
speak to him; all he says is, I must persevere with the stuff he gave me, and
wear plenty of flannel; but what’s the use of telling poor folks that?"
Lady.—"Have you no flannel, then?" Jenny.—"Yes, I have got a piece of coarse
flannel that was given me at the hall; but I have not had time to make it into a
petticoat." Lady.—"And did you not receive a blanket, and some coals?"
Jenny.—"Yes, I got a few coals, and a small blanket; the large ones were given
to those that have families, and I am sure they did not need them so bad as I
did." Lady.—"I should think, where three or four people have but one bed, they
must need a larger blanket to cover them than you, who sleep alone. Besides,
those who give have a right to give as they think for the best; and you should
be thankful for what you receive, instead of being discontented that it is no
more. Think how much worse off you might have been, if you had not received the
blanket, and the flannel, and the coals, and the turn for the doctor. For all
this you are indebted to the kindness of friends. I really think you have great
cause of gratitude instead of complaint. Pray what is your income?" Jenny.—"I
have but three shillings a week to help myself, and the parish grumble at
allowing me that." Lady.—"But you are able to earn a trifle at spinning and
knitting?" Jenny .—"Tis a trifle, indeed! Women’s work is always a dead penny;
and now they’ve got these new-fangled machines, as I say, they have taken the
bread out of poor people’s mouths." Lady.—"No doubt, it must affect the poor in
some respects; but then it is a general good, and even you share the benefit.
You can get a gown, shift, petticoat, and pair of stockings, for as little money
now as you would have paid formerly for a gown alone, before machinery came into
such general use." Jenny.—"Ah! it is seldom I have money to lay out in clothing;
so it is little matter to me whether cheap or costly. ’Tis a hard matter to get
a bit of bread to put in one’s mouth; and as to butcher’s meat, I scarcely ever
buy any." Lady.—"I have often been pleased to see your son’s little girl
bringing you a plateful at dinner-time." Jenny.—"Yes, he sends me a bit now and
then; but he has a large family, and it is not always that they have got it
themselves." Lady.—"It is pleasing to find that they have the disposition to
help you. You have also a steady, respectable daughter in service: I hope she is
kind to you." Jenny .—"Why, she pays my rent, to be sure; that is some help to
me." Lady.—"A very great help, indeed! and you have a convenient, comfortable
cottage." Jenny.—"Tis a miserable cold place, and smokes sadly when the wind
sets one way." Lady.—"Your garden, too, must help you a little. I suppose you
grow a few potatoes and cabbages for your own use, and have something to sell
beside." Jenny .—"I don’t know how it is, but my crops generally fail, and the
birds get at my fruit. What with one thing and another, I don’t know that I am a
bit better off than if I had no garden at all." Lady.—"You have got a nice Bible
here. What a blessed companion is that in our deepest solitude! Do you recollect
the fourth chapter of Paul’s Epistle to the Philippians?" Jenny.—"I can’t say
that I do—my eyes are bad—I don’t read much." Lady.—"Your little grand-daughter,
who attends the Sunday school, reads nicely, and would feel a pleasure in
reading you a chapter or two every day." Jenny.—"Yes, I dare say she would. She
often offers to read, but it is not always that it suits me." Lady.—"I think you
would find pleasure and profit in a constant perusal of the sacred volume. There
is enough good news there, if we do but take it home to ourselves, to make us
rich and happy, whatever our outward circumstances may be. Let me read you a few
verses; think them over, and pray that God may give you a contented spirit, and
teach you, like his servant of old, in whatever state you are, therewith to be
content." The lady felt almost disposed to leave this grumbling old woman,
without any other memorial of her visit; but recollecting, "our Father in
heaven, who is kind to the evil and the unthankful," she presented her a trifle,
and, taking her leave, called on Amy Scott, at the next door, when the following
conversation took place— Lady—"Well, Amy, how are you? I am sorry to see you
tied up with the face-ache. Amy .—"Thank you, ma’am; my face is much better than
it has been; and it is a great mercy to be able to get about at all; last week I
really was not able to work." Lady.—"Why did you not let me know? I should have
been glad to send you anything you might be in need of." Amy .—"Thank you,
ma’am; I did not like to be troublesome; besides, I really have not lacked for
anything. A friend was so kind as to give me a turn for the doctor, and he gave
me some stuff that has done me a deal of good." Lady.—"Was the doctor kind and
attentive to you?" Amy—"O yes, ma’am; he could not have been more so if I had
been a lady. While I could not get about, he called on me every day; and, since
I have been better, he told me to fetch more medicine as long as I wanted it,
and to let him know if I was not so well again. And he spoke for me to the
ladies at the hall, and got me such a nice gift—a good piece of flannel to make
me a petticoat, and a beautiful warm blanket—only look at it, ma’am; it is fit
for the greatest lady in the land to sleep under. And I have a hundred of coal
every week, while the cold weather lasts, which, you know, is a very great help
to a poor body. In short, I lack for nothing but a more contented and grateful
heart." Lady.—"Pray—what is your weekly income?" Amy.—"I have three shillings a
week; and that is more than many a poor creature has to live upon. Besides, my
children are very good to me. They generally contrive to make up my rent among
them; and would stint themselves to give me a bit if they knew I was in need;
and one and another is very kind. I often get a few bones to boil down, and make
me a drop of broth, or a little skim-milk at the farmer’s; and you know every
little helps. Besides, though I am not so strong as I used to be, I can still
earn a little myself; and my garden helps me out nicely; I have always greens
and potatoes for my own use, besides onions and pot-herbs, and a little fruit
and flowers to sell. Take one thing with another, I think hardly anyone in the
parish is better off than I am." Lady.—"Don’t you find your house very cold?"
Amy.—"It was cold until my son fixed the door to keep out the draft; and now it
is as snug and comfortable as need be. The worst of it is, it is rather apt to
smoke; but the wind does not always set one way, and then, perhaps, it does not
smoke for a month together." Lady.—"It is a great matter to have a disposition
to look at the best side of everything. I rejoice to see you so contented and
cheerful." Amy.—"I think it would be a great sin to be otherwise; besides, what
have I to make me discontented? Where one is better off, a hundred are worse. I
often think the lines have fallen to me in pleasant places. I have a goodly
heritage. The Bible promises only bread and water, and I have generally better
fare than that; and, then, let my fare be what it will, I have the precious
Bible to comfort and refresh me. I often think of what it says in Proverbs,
’When you go, it shall lead you; when you sleep, it shall keep you; and when you
awake, it shall talk with you.’ While I have my Bible, I don’t know what it is
to be dull." Lady.—"Is your eye-sight pretty good?" Amy.—"Not so good as it has
been; but our minister was so kind as to give me a pair of spectacles, which
help me wonderfully. I have heard of a minister (Rev. J. Berridge), who was
preaching to a large congregation, and was a long time wiping his glasses before
he could read the text; the people looked up to see if anything was the matter,
and he said, ’You that can read your Bible without glasses, bless God for it—I
bless Him that I can read it with them.’ And I desire to say the same. Besides,
my children and grand-children often come in and read a chapter to me; and then,
in course of time, one gets a great deal of scripture treasured up in the mind;
and that serves well in darkness and dim-sightedness." Lady.—"Well, is there
nothing I can do for your comfort? You seem to be more independent than many
people who possess thousands." Amy.—"Thank you, ma’am. If you will please to
read me a chapter, that is my greatest comfort; and it always sounds better if
it is read by a good scholar, that knows just how to speak the words properly."
Lady.—"I think I must read the fourth chapter of the Epistle to the Philippians;
and I feel very thankful that you are enabled to understand and relish it." The
verses to which she particularly alluded are these—"Rejoice in the Lord always.
I will say it again: Rejoice! Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is
near. Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and
petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God,
which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in
Christ Jesus." Php 4:4-7. "I am not saying this because I am in need, for I have
learned to be content whatever the circumstances. I know what it is to be in
need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being
content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living
in plenty or in want. I can do everything through him who gives me strength."
Php 4:11-13. "And my God will meet all your needs according to his glorious
riches in Christ Jesus." Php 4:19 Lady.—"Well, I must now bid you farewell; and,
though you seem to lack nothing, I hope you will find a use for this trifle,
which I wish to leave with you as an expression of my Christian regard."
Amy.—"O, thank you, ma’am, a thousand times. This will just make up enough, with
what I have saved, to buy me a new pair of shoes, which I really am in need of."
Lady.—"If you should at any time be unwell, or in need, I hope you will not
hesitate to let me know, that I may have the pleasure of ministering to your
necessities and comforts." Amy.—"Thank you, ma’am; I will make bold to send if I
should be in need; and I pray the Lord to reward you for your goodness, and to
make me truly sensible of his great goodness to me in thus spreading my table,
and causing my cup to run over. ’Surely, goodness and mercy have followed me,
and shall follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of
the Lord forever.’" To these contrasted characters, I will add a few maxims and
sayings, which I have, at different times, gathered on Christian contentment and
cheerfulness— "But if we have food and clothing, we will be content with these."
1 Timothy 6:8 "Godliness with contentment is great gain." "A contented mind is a
continual feast." "A cheerful countenance does good like medicine." "Let not
your heart envy sinners, but be in the fear of the Lord all the day long."
"Better bring down your mind to your condition, than have your condition brought
up to your mind." "Bless God for what you have, and trust God for what you
need." "We must obey the revealed will of God, and then be resigned to his
providential will; committing our souls to his keeping, and submitting ourselves
to his disposal." "Neither content nor discontent arises from the outward
condition, but from the inward disposition. If a man is not content in the state
in which he is—he would not be content in any state in which he would wish to
be." "Humility is the mother of contentment; think lowly of your deservings, and
then you will think highly of your receivings. Those who deserve nothing—should
be content with anything. The deeper our self-abhorrence, the easier will be our
self-resignation. He has the sweetest enjoyment of God’s mercies, who feels
himself unworthy of the least of them." Isaac Walton, himself a man of a very
cheerful, contented spirit, relates the following anecdote: "I knew a man who
had health and riches, and several houses, all beautiful and well furnished, and
would be often troubling himself and his family to move from one of them to
another. On being asked by a friend why he moved so often from one house to
another, he replied, ’It was in order to find contentment in some of them.’ But
his friend, knowing his temper, told him, if he would find contentment in any of
his houses, he must leave himself behind, for contentment can never dwell but
with a meek and quiet soul." The following reasons may be assigned, why a
Christian should be content with little. 1. Nature needs but little. A little
simple food, and plain clothing, and humble shelter—this is all that man really
needs. All that he possesses beyond it, is but the beholding of it with his
eyes. King George the Third, walking out early one morning, met a lad at the
stable-door, and asked him, "Well, boy, what do you do? What do they pay you?"
"I help in the stable," replied the lad, "but I have nothing but food and
clothes." "Be content," replied the king; "I have no more." All that the richest
possess beyond food, clothing, and habitation, they have but the keeping, or the
disposing, not the present enjoyment of. A ploughboy who thinks and feels
correctly, has enough to make him contented; and, if a king has a discontented
spirit, he will find some plea for indulging it. Nature is content with little,
and grace with less; but luxury is seldom satisfied, and lust is never
satisfied. 2. Outward possessions are insufficient. "A man’s life does not
consist in the abundance of his possessions." Luke 12:15. A godly man is
satisfied in himself, and a wicked man cannot be satisfied at all; his bosom is
like the "But the wicked are like the tossing sea, which cannot rest, whose
waves cast up mire and mud. "There is no peace," says my God, "for the wicked."
Isaiah 57:20-21. Outward things can neither make a man happy or miserable. Ahab
was discontented on a king’s throne; Paul and Silas were happy in a dungeon. 3.
Our own unworthiness should make us contented with what we possess. Wherefore
should a living man complain? A sinner has no right, and a saint has no reason.
4. A Christian has enough in possession and in prospect of spiritual blessings
to make him contented and happy, whatever be his outward circumstances. He is a
son of God; an heir of glory; and he is going home; a mean lodging or a rough
road need not greatly discompose him. 5. The providence of God orders all things
for him, and has engaged to order all in the very best manner. He need not fear
being neglected, for his God is attentive even to the falling of a sparrow. He
need not be anxious about food and clothing, for his Father knows that he has
need of these things, and has promised that bread shall be given him, and his
water shall be sure, and that all things shall work together for his good. 6. If
we have but little in this world, we may content ourselves with the reflection
that it is safer to have little than much. Many have been ruined by prosperity.
Many have gone to hell splendidly clothed, and who lived each day in luxury!
"How hardly shall they that have riches enter into the kingdom of God!" Very
wise was the prayer of Agur, "Give me neither poverty nor riches, but give me
only my daily bread." Proverbs 30:8 7. Christians should be content, because
time is short; and if time is short, trouble cannot be long. "Weeping may endure
for a night, but joy comes in the morning!" These light afflictions are but for
a moment, and then comes an eternal weight of glory. Christians should not
merely be contented, but cheerful. It is a disgrace to their profession that
they should go mourning from day to day, and hang down their heads like a
bulrush. If they would honor religion, they should sing in the ways of the Lord,
and let the world know that— "Religion never was designed To make our pleasures
less." "In all our conversation we should be lively, but not light; solid, but
not sad." "When first New England was planted, the settlers met with many
difficulties and hardships, as is necessarily the case when a civilized people
attempt to establish themselves in a wilderness-country. Being piously disposed,
they sought relief from Heaven, by laying their needs and distresses before the
Lord in frequent set days of fasting and prayer. Constant meditation, and
discourse on the subject of their difficulties, kept their minds gloomy and
discontented; and, like the children of Israel, there were many disposed even to
return to that Egypt which persecution had determined them to abandon. "At
length, when it was proposed in the assembly to proclaim another fast, a farmer,
of plain sense, rose and remarked, that the inconveniences they suffered, and
concerning which they had so often wearied Heaven with their complaints, were
not so great as might have been expected, and were diminishing every day as the
colony strengthened; that the earth began to reward their labors, and to furnish
liberally for their sustenance; that the seas and rivers were full of fish, the
air sweet, the climate wholesome; above all, they were in the full enjoyment of
liberty, civil and religious. He therefore thought, that reflecting and
conversing on these subjects would be more comfortable, as tending to make them
more contented with their situation; and that it would be more becoming the
gratitude they owed to the Divine Being, if, instead of a fast, they should
proclaim a thanksgiving. His advice was taken; and from that day to this, they
have in every year observed circumstances of public happiness sufficient to
furnish employment for a thanksgiving-day, which is therefore constantly ordered
and religiously observed." Most objects have two sides: generally one is
pleasanter than the other. It is a great happiness to have a disposition to look
at the bright side, rather than the gloomy side of things; indeed, this
disposition, founded on Christian principles, is the true secret of finding
happiness in a miserable world. In the worst circumstances, a Christian has
reason for contentment and cheerfulness; and it is a libel on his profession to
be gloomy and discontented. Does he possess but little of this world’s goods? It
is all more than he deserves. Are some of his comforts taken away? He has reason
to be thankful that some are left. Is he in pain and sickness? He enjoys the
sympathy of Christian friends, and the sympathy and succor of a faithful
High-priest. If circumstances are ever so bad, they might have been worse; and,
what is more, they will be better. The Christian is passing a rough and dirty
piece of road; but he is going home, and he has a good home to go to. HINTS FOR
YOUNG PEOPLE I have frequently referred, and have reason to do it with
thankfulness, to the kind solicitude shown by some of my friends in behalf of
the young. Many of their sayings are deeply impressed on my mind, and much
excellent advice on the subject I have written from books which they have either
lent me or read in my presence. I most earnestly pray that, through the
influences of the Holy Spirit, they may be deeply impressed on the minds of
everyone of my children. "Remember, now, your Creator in the days of your
youth."—The present is certainly the best time, and may be the only time.
Remember God in your youth—and He will not forget, or forsake, or cast you off
in the time of old age. If you wish to be certain of finding God, seek Him in
youth; for He loves those who love Him, and those that seek Him early shall find
Him. If you wish to be truly honorable, be truly pious; for riches and honor are
with her; yes, durable riches and righteousness. If you wish to have a good
portion on earth, seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and then
all other things (good and needful) will be added thereunto. If you wish to be
eminent in piety, be early pious. Obadiah feared the Lord from his youth, and he
feared him greatly. He who would reap the honor of being an old disciple—must
sow the seed in being a young disciple. The youngest of Christ’s apostles was
the beloved apostle. If you wish to make your parents happy, live early in the
fear of God, for the father of the righteous shall greatly rejoice; and he who
begets a wise son shall have joy from him. Your father and your mother shall be
glad, and she who bore you shall rejoice. My son, if your heart is wise, my
heart shall rejoice, even mine; but a foolish son is a grief to his father, and
bitterness to her who bore him. If you wish to escape the snares and pollutions
of evil society—be pious early. Cultivate those principles which will give you a
distaste for the society of the ungodly, and which will deter them from
soliciting yours. Some holy people, brought to a knowledge of God in later
years, have, through the remainder of life, bitterly regretted that their youth
was spent in the society of the thoughtless and ungodly; for though that society
is now forsaken, it left recollections which polluted and harassed the mind, and
stuck to it like the stains to the walls of a leprous house. The only way to
avoid this, is, to grow up in happy ignorance of the words and ways of evil
society. It is a great thing to be enabled to resist when sinners entice; but it
is still more for the peace of the soul never to have been near the path of the
wicked and the way of evil men; but to have been a companion of those only who
fear the Lord and keep his commandments. If you wish to possess that which will
wisely guide you in all your future engagements and connections, and fit you to
be useful as you pass through life, be early pious. "The fear of God is the
beginning of wisdom; a good understanding have all they that do his
commandments. Then shall you walk in the way safely, and your foot shall not
stumble." If you wish to have a friend who may be depended upon, seek the
friendship of God—the only Friend who never forsakes, who never dies, who is
never unable or unwilling to befriend to the full extent of our need. There is a
Friend who loves at all times; who sticks closer than a brother; who is the same
yesterday, today, and forever; and able to do for you exceeding abundantly,
above all that you can ask or think. Secure his friendship in early life. If you
wish always to have something at hand that can comfort and support you in time
of trouble, this is it—early piety; the love of God shed abroad in your heart by
the power of the Holy Spirit; a good hope, through grace, of an heavenly
inheritance, and a firm conviction that all present things work together for
good. If you wish to be ready for death, come when it may, be early pious. Grace
in the heart is oil in the lamp, which will light us through the valley of the
shadow of death. The severest blasts and storms cannot put it out; but the great
concern is—to have the lamp filled and lighted in good time; not to be running
about to seek it when the call is upon us to go forth. If you wish to have large
capacities for the enjoyment of heaven, be early pious. All who are admitted to
heaven will be happy; but we are led to conclude there will be different
capacities for happiness, and, therefore, different degrees. Growth in grace on
earth is growth in capacity for heavenly enjoyment. Then he whose heart is
earliest opened for the reception of divine grace, and continues most expanding,
is likely to be a large partaker of the bliss of heaven. The following
suggestions ought to be deeply impressed on the minds of youth— 1. Choose God
for your portion. God alone can make you happy; but all the world cannot make
you happy without God. 2. Consider that by nature you are dead in trespasses and
sins. You are a child of wrath, a stranger, and an enemy to God. Labor to be
sensible of this, and let the sinfulness of your nature be your greatest burden.
3. Remember that Christ Jesus is your way to God. Justification, pardon, and
acceptance with God, are by faith in him. Sanctification and a new nature are by
the power of his Spirit. Let Christ, therefore, be precious to your souls. Labor
for true faith in him. Take him for your Lord and Savior. Submit to his commands
in all things, and rest your soul upon him for reconciliation and peace with
God. Open your heart to the motions of his Holy Spirit. Welcome that principle
of a holy and divine life; improve his motions, follow his drawings, and by no
means grieve him. 4. Be speedy in your repentance, and diligent in your
endeavors after holiness. Know the time of God’s gracious visitation. Consider
that life is short and altogether uncertain. To defer one day may be your
everlasting undoing. 5. Endeavor to be truly and thoroughly pious, and be not
discouraged at the difficulties of it. God’s grace shall be sufficient for your
help. His promises shall be your sweet encouragement. Peace of conscience, and
communion with God, shall be your ever-present cordial. The troubles and pains
of piety shall be but short, and your reward shall be glorious and eternal. 6.
Devote your young and blooming years to the love and service of your God and
Savior. The first-fruits are the most acceptable— "A flower, when offered in the
bud, Is no vain sacrifice." Grudge not, that the vain delights and sinful
pleasures of youth should be lost. They shall be exchanged for spiritual
delights, which are more excellent, inward, and lasting. 7. Remember you must
give an account to God of your youth as well as your age. It will be no excuse,
if you be found in your sins, to say, "I was but young!" He who is old enough to
sin, is old enough for hell. You cannot make sure of God’s love, a saving
interest in Christ, and the salvation of your soul, too soon. It may be too
late, but can never be too early. 8. Let those who have been piously instructed
remember, that they cannot have that pleasure in sin which others may. They know
better. They sin against light and conviction. Conscience will mix gall with
their honey. When they go to prayer in the evening, or when upon their bed,
alone, retired, in the dark, or in a thunder-storm, conscience will read sad
lectures to them, and make them review all the pleasures of sin with bitterness.
9. Repentance and conversion are easiest in youth. Sin is not so deeply rooted;
Satan not so strongly fortified; grace not so much slighted; the Spirit not so
much grieved; the conscience not so much hardened. 10. Early conversion, as it
is most easy, so it is also least questionable. It is little for a man to
renounce the world when he is just forced to leave it; or to forsake the
pleasures of sin when he has no longer the ability to pursue them. But when the
bloom and strength of youth are given to God, when the world is fully before
it—it then appears plain that God is loved for himself; that Christ is preferred
above the flesh, and grace, above the sweetest delights in the world.


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  CHAPTER 9: J - SECTION 9
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The Family at Home Familiar Illustrations of Various Domestic Duties by Gorham
D. Abbott, 1833

Section 9 RULES FOR DAILY CONDUCT (From Mason’s Select Remains) For the
government of the conduct, the following rules are important— 1. Make the word
of God the rule of all you do. 2. Whatever you do, do it in the strength of
Christ. Without Christ, you can do nothing. Of yourself, you cannot even think a
good thought; but you may do all things, through Christ strengthening you.
Nature is a dry root—no gracious actions spring from it. Grace depends on
continual supplies from Christ, as of sap from the root, or heat from the sun.
Be strong in the Lord, and in the power of his might, and then nothing shall be
too hard for you. Mountains shall melt to plains, and valleys be filled up. All
things are possible to him that believes and relies upon Christ’s power. 3. As
we are to act by the power of Christ, so we are to present our services for
acceptance in the name of Christ. The best we can do, needs his intercession,
blood, and merits, to render it acceptable to God. In the Lord alone—we have
righteousness and strength. 4. Whatever you do, do all to the glory of God.
Selfishness is the natural idolatry of the human heart. The design and tendency
of piety is to take the heart off self—and set it upon God. That duty which does
not begin and end with God is no part of godliness. Self must be entirely cast
down—and God alone exalted. 5. To spend every day well, let your waking thoughts
be with God; let your fervent prayers ascend in the name of Christ; let the word
of God be your counselor; let the fear of God be always before your eyes. In all
your actions, let integrity and uprightness preserve you, as those who wait on
God. Set a watch over your lips, and a guard upon your spirit, that you be not
provoked to anger, nor speak unadvisedly with your lips. 6. At night, review the
actions of the day. Give to God the glory of what has been good; take shame to
yourself for what has been evil. Review the dispensations of God’s providences,
and consider their special meaning and application. Acknowledge the mercies of
God received through the day. Submit to the afflictions laid upon you. Desire a
fresh application to your conscience of the blood of sprinkling; and commit
yourselves afresh to the mercy and protection of God, through Jesus Christ; that
you may be preserved through the slumbers of the night, and be permitted to wake
in peace, whether it be in earth or heaven. By these points let every action be
examined— By whose rule have I acted? In whose strength have I acted? In whose
name have I acted? For whose glory have I acted? What faith, humility,
self-denial, love to God and Christ, have there been in my actions? BROTHERS AND
SISTERS It is a common remark, that large families agree better, and often
prosper better, than those consisting of but two or three children. I do not
exactly see how or why this should be—but common remarks are seldom altogether
without foundation. Perhaps it may be traced to some mismanagement during the
period of childhood, by which the selfish passions have been fostered. This
supposition is founded on two principles; first, that selfishness is the great
cause of disagreements, whether in families, neighborhoods, or nations; and,
secondly, that the character is generally formed during the years of childhood.
I do not mean to say unchangeably formed; for divine grace, in many happy
instances, has given a new bias to the affections, and consequently a new aspect
to the character—the man has become a new creature in Christ Jesus.
Circumstances, too, may, in after life, develop traits of character which had
altogether passed unobserved in childhood; so that it is often said of a man or
woman, "He is not a bit like himself in youth; his character and disposition
seem completely changed." From this remark I beg to differ, and say—the
disposition was there, only circumstances were required to bring it into active
and palpable operation. The character at fourteen is so far formed, that the
good man will, through life, have more or less to struggle with the errors and
evil propensities of that date; or, in the bad man, they will go on to their
odious maturity, as naturally, as the bud and blossom will advance to the fruit
or seed. At that age a great majority of young people leave the parental roof,
and the fellowship of brothers and sisters is afterwards but occasional. The
principles and habits already acquired will, however, be found to give a color
to that fellowship through future life. The meetings may be so infrequent and
transient as hardly to afford time for rubbing off the restraints of politeness;
but should anything like the intimacy of domestic life occur, and especially
should anything like a collision of interests arise, the adult brother and
sister will discover the very same dispositions as those which marked their
childish fellowship; and the surviving parent will be reminded, perhaps
pleasingly, perhaps painfully, of the instructions, the developments and the
discipline of the nursery. There is a probability that the children in small
families are more indulged, and engross a more exclusive and injurious
attention. If attention is well directed, it is scarcely possible to bestow too
much on children. By well-directed attention, I mean attention to their real
needs and interests; for I am sure it is no small advantage to children to be
brought up by those who have no time to attend to their whims; and that they
should learn, at a very early age, that they will get nothing by being pesty,
troublesome, and tale-bearing. I have seen a mother worn out by two or three
teasing children, each bent on having its own way, to the annoyance of the rest;
and I have thought, "What would she do, if there were eight or ten of them? it
would be enough to drive her mad!" And then it has occurred to me that, perhaps,
larger families are more harmonious in after-life, because in childhood they
have almost necessarily been more accustomed to greater degrees of mutual
forbearance and self-denial. The subject, at all events, is highly important,
and may suggest some useful hints both to parents and children. Jealousies among
children are often excited in the most foolish manner possible. In two families,
nearly related, a second child was born about the same time. To the eldest
child, in one family, a silly nurse was allowed to say, "Here, Master Alfred,
here’s a baby come; your nose will be put out of joint. Mamma must nurse the
baby now." A spirit of rivalry was thus immediately excited. The little hero of
two years old felt himself called on to vindicate his rights, and frequently
attempted to pinch, or strike the babe, or to drag it from his mother’s lap. It
was in vain then to say, "Pretty baby! you must not hurt the baby!" or even to
advance to the threat, "If you hurt the baby, you shall certainly be whipped."
The mind of the child had already sustained an irreparable injury. As the
children became playfellows, jealousy, oppression, and resentment, marked their
fellowship; and the parents were perpetually called upon to take part with one
against the other in their childish brawls. In the course of a few years, the
constitution of the elder child was considerably affected by a succession of the
ordinary diseases of childhood; the younger child passed through them much more
favorably; and henceforward, notwithstanding the disparity of age and gender,
the balance of strength was on her side. Many a sturdy battle was now fought
between the little champions, and many a sly and spiteful trick was performed,
when opportunity offered, on the brother’s kite, or on the sister’s doll.
Separation at school was a temporary cessation of hostilities, rather than an
interruption of affectionate fellowship; and the holidays, instead of affording
a welcome renewal of cheerful tenderness in a united family at home, were
distinguished by ingenious contrivances of the young people to vex and torment
each other. A present from the parents, or any mark of attention or indulgence,
was invariably perverted into a subject of jealousy and contention. Every
benefit conferred on one child was regarded as an injury inflicted on the other;
and the parents, instead of being gratified by promoting the happiness of their
children, were mortified by hearing perpetual altercations as to the comparative
value of Alfred’s case of mathematical instruments and Louisa’s drawing box,
Alfred’s watch and Louisa’s necklace. In course of time the parents died; and
the contentions which had hitherto been employed on trinkets and trifles were
transferred to legacies and possessions. Though an ample sufficiency was left
for both, each party seemed determined to contend for every trifle with the
other. Several boisterous meetings occurred, and several angry letters passed,
full of invective, reproach, and recrimination; and then several hundred pounds,
perhaps thousands, were wasted on each side on lawsuits, at the close of which
each party sat down, not to enjoy, but to hold the wreck of their property—just
as two quarrelsome dogs, after fighting for that which they might as well have
shared amicably, each guards his respective bone, and growls envy and spite at
the other. Alfred and Louisa have lived several years in the same town without
speaking to each other. The children of one family are not allowed to take the
same walks, or to frequent the same school, as those of the other; the same
tradesmen must not be employed, nor the same society frequented, by both
families; and whoever may desire the friendship or countenance of the one, must
obtain it at the expense of the enmity and persecution of the other. It is
pleasing to turn to the other family alluded to; in which the first and second
children were of the same ages as Alfred and Louisa. The introduction of little
Henry to his infant sister was managed so as from the first to excite benevolent
feelings towards the little stranger. "See, my dear little Henry," said the
father, "here is a sweet, lovely babe, which the Lord has graciously given to
us. Look at its little hands and feet; how pretty and how soft! But it is tender
and helpless: it cannot do anything for itself. We must beg dear mamma to be so
kind as to feed it, and nurse it, and take care of it for us, as she did of
Henry; and then we hope it will grow strong, and be able to run about, and
speak." Thus the elder child, instead of being taught to regard the babe as an
intruder, received it as a delightful acquisition, and as one in whose
protection, welfare, and improvement, he was to cherish a lively interest. The
effect was immediately visible. He would frequently run to his mother, and say,
"The ’tender babe’ cries; take it up and feed it;" or to the servants, "don’t
make a noise; the ’tender babe’ is asleep." Whatever was given him, he was sure
to inquire whether the ’tender babe’ might have part of it; and rapturous and
benevolent was his delight when the babe began to caper and coo at the sound of
his drum or whistle. For an hour together, he would amuse the little one on the
carpet, and, by degrees, entice it to crawl, and then to run after his ball, at
the same time carefully pushing aside whatever might injure it. The kindly
feeling was reciprocal. The earliest associations of the infant girl connected
the idea of her brother with those of protection and pleasure. Illness, when it
occurred, proved a new occasion of tenderness and sympathy; and restoration to
health, of new cheerfulness and enjoyment. As childhood advanced, the
indications of abiding affection continued to develop themselves. It was from
Henry that the little Ellen first learned the form, sound, and use of letters.
It was the hope of being able to make Henry’s shirts that stimulated the little
seamstress to acquire the use of the needle. The value of a parent’s present was
enhanced, as affording not solitary, but mutual gratification; and the earliest
appropriation of pocket-money was to purchase a little present from one child to
the other. Separation, for the objects of education and business, was felt as a
real trial; yet soothed by frequent and affectionate interchange of letters, and
by the delightful anticipation of meeting again. The vacations were indeed
seasons of parental, filial, and fraternal delight and mutual improvement; and
this lovely family often drew forth from observers the exclamation—"Behold how
good and how pleasant it is for brethren to dwell together in unity!" In early
life, Henry and Ellen became, through divine grace, genuine possessors of that
religion, the principles of which had been carefully instilled into their infant
minds by their pious and affectionate parents. Thus their fellowship assumed a
still more sacred character; they became helpers of each other’s faith, hope,
and steadfastness. Nor have the subsequent vicissitudes of life in any degree
weakened the delightful bond of union, so early and so successfully entwined. No
jealousies, no jarring interests, have interrupted the delightful harmony, but
each fully participates in the happiness of the other; and, in time of
affliction, each is secure of receiving from the other the tenderest sympathy
and most cheerful aid. In closing this sketch, it may be well to drop a few
hints, tending to promote and secure family harmony through life. Let the
sentiment be inwrought in the minds of children, that the interest and happiness
of each is identified with the interest and happiness of all. As much as
possible, preserve children from entertaining an idea of selfish gratification.
Jealousy is oftener excited than prevented, by the scrupulous care of some
parents to give every child exactly alike. Let the same affection be cherished
towards all, and the same principles regulate the general conduct towards all;
and then occasional varieties in the detail may be rather advantageous than
injurious. The minds of the children, being settled on the great points of the
parent’s affection and wisdom, will not be easily shaken by any trifling
variations that circumstances may dictate. Early justice should be steadily
maintained and enforced. If a child has any little possession of his own, his
property ought to be respected, and not alienated by the parents, or infringed
on by the other children. A child should never be compelled to give up his toy,
or to share his cake, because another child wishes for it. At the same time,
early kindness should be inculcated and encouraged. In a well-regulated family,
this will be done so insensibly, and at so early a period, that a child shall
never remember a time when he could have eaten his morsel alone; having always
experienced the highest pleasure of possessing anything to result from being
able to share and impart gratification to those most dear. Mutual confidence
among the members of a family should be promoted by the parents, and encouraged
among the children. It is most natural, that a child should tell his little
troubles at his own home; and there, rather than elsewhere, seek sympathy,
counsel, and assistance. There is no friendship so safe and so delightful as
that which is grafted upon natural affection. This will prepare also for that
most pleasant, and yet most rare attainment, free pious fellowship among the
nearest and dearest connections; and piety will ever prove the sweetest and most
delightful cement and sanctifier of friendship and affection. It may be urged
upon young people to strive together for the comfort of the parents. This common
object, kept constantly in view, and diligently sought by all, will delightfully
endear them to each other. They should be guarded against jealousy of parental
assistance, either during the period of education, at first setting out in life,
or in any subsequent season of trial; also against a selfish, encroaching
spirit, which would seek to engross as much advantage as possible. It cannot be
too often repeated, that selfishness is the bane of affection and happiness. Let
them guard also against coolness, through long separation. There is danger of
affectionate concern, about the absent branches of a family, gradually becoming
less and less vivid, until at last it sinks almost into indifference. It is
therefore highly desirable that frequent fellowship should be kept up, and, if
possible, little tokens of affection exchanged. A little book, presented as a
memorial of affection from an absent brother or sister, has often been made a
blessing in more senses than one, as keeping alive affectionate recollections
during absence, and as winning the attention to truths of everlasting
consequence. It will be found necessary to guard against alienation, from the
formation of new connections. There have been instances in which, when entire
dependence for domestic comforts has been severed from the parental home, a
painful indifference has been manifested towards the earliest relations in life.
There have been instances, too, in which the influence of a married partner has
operated to the disparagement of former connections, and produced alienation
bordering on enmity. These, perhaps, are extreme cases; but it will be found
desirable to guard against the most distant approach to so unhappy a state of
things. For this end, in forming new connections, it is of no small importance
to select such as are likely to blend harmoniously with those already in
existence; and then, by mutual good offices, to keep alive the friendly and
affectionate feeling. In some families it may be necessary to guard against
jealousies, on account of being in the same line of business. Here, again, we
must come to the old remedy, Christian integrity and benevolence. Let every man
look not on his own things exclusively, but also, with feelings of good-will and
kindness, to the things of others, especially those so near and dear. And,
finally, that brotherly love may continue, not only through time but through
eternity, let it be impelled, and regulated, and sanctified by true religion;
let brethren and sisters be allied, not only by the ties of nature, but by the
more sacred and indissoluble bonds of Christian union; let each be sharers of
each other’s pious cares, and sorrows, and joys, and all anticipate the day
when, through divine grace, they hope to meet "a family unbroken in the skies!"
DECISION IN PIETY There are many people who seem well inclined towards piety,
but who linger at the threshold, and cannot quite make up their minds to
renounce the world, and to take up with the "one thing needful." They frequent
the house of God, and seem to listen with devout attention and interest; but now
and then their place is empty. On some particular occasion they have a Sunday
party, or go on a Sunday excursion; they do one thing which their conscience
disapproves to oblige a good customer, and another rather than give offence to a
rich relation, and another in compliance with the urgent request of some
mirthful companion. This is a truly miserable and dangerous state, in which to
be found. Such people have just enough religion to embitter the pleasures of
sin—but not enough to strengthen and cheer them in abandoning those pleasures.
They have just enough religion to make life restless and apprehensive, but not
enough to render death safe and easy. "How long will you halt between two
opinions?" If piety is anything—it is everything. Either settle in your own mind
that you have something more valuable than true religion, or else resolve to
part with whatever is necessary to secure the possession of that pearl of great
price. Either satisfy yourself that you can be safe and happy without yielding
to the restraints of piety, or else go into it with all your heart. Turn your
back upon the world, and go determinately and steadily on in the ways of piety;
then, and then only, will you find them to be ways of pleasantness and paths of
peace. Without decision of character in piety, there can be neither stability
nor security. How many pleasing, hopeful, promising, well-inclined young people,
have been altogether drawn aside from the ways of piety into the paths of sin,
for lack of making up their minds on the right side of the question! A
hesitating, lingering character, is sure to be marked by the seducer and
destroyer of men, and is almost sure to become his prey! He who is almost
persuaded to be a Christian, is in the greatest danger of perishing for lack of
being altogether so. In the time of Noah, we may conclude that many lingered
near the ark, and looked at it, and resolved to ask admission into it; but while
they hesitated, the door was shut, and the flood came and destroyed them all.
Those who would secure the advantages of piety, and partake its solid
enjoyments, must enter into it with all their heart and soul; then every duty
will be easy, and every sacrifice light. There will be real peace and
satisfaction of mind, in a conscious possession of that which is worth all the
world, and which the world can neither give nor take away. CONSISTENCY WITH
CHRISTIAN PROFESSION "What do you do, more than others?" is a question which
both the church and the world will feel themselves at liberty, often, to propose
to everyone, who makes a profession of piety; and it is a question which every
professor ought frequently and impartially to propose to himself. He who
professes piety, says, that he acts upon higher principles, and is impelled by
nobler motives, and sustained by higher strength, and cheered by sweeter
enjoyments, and animated by brighter prospects—than people in general. Then,
surely, it is to be expected that his conduct should be more blameless, upright,
and exemplary than those who make no such profession. Well do I remember the
endeavors of some of my friends to awaken the young to a serious concern about
their souls’ best interests; and well also do I recollect, when such interest
was excited, when any began to take delight in reading the scriptures, in
attending public worship, and in engaging in Sunday-school teaching or
missionary collecting, how they used to urge upon them the necessity of
consistency and circumspection in all their deportment. To some young ones,
brought to an acquaintance with true religion, of which their parents, as yet,
remained ignorant, they would say, "Now, if your parents won’t read Christianity
in the Bible, nor hear it from the pulpit, they must see it in your life and
conduct. There must be a marked difference in your behavior now, from what it
was before you professed Christ. You are not accused of being disobedient,
unkind, or ill-behaved; but there must now be a refinement, a delicacy, a
tenderness in your obedience, worthy of those who do it as unto the Lord, and
not unto men. Your conduct must be such as to constrain those around you to say,
’It is not whim or mere outside show, which makes them forsake the company and
the ways of the world, and choose those of Christ. No! they certainly are
sincere in what they profess; and surely it cannot be a bad religion that makes
them so much better than they used to be before they professed it.’" One of our
poor neighbors, a sharp-tempered woman, who led her husband a weary life, and
violently used her poor children, in a long illness, received great attention
from our kind friends. Their instructions were blessed in awakening her concern
and softening her heart. As she recovered from her illness, great was their
concern that her future conduct might be such as to adorn religion. They spoke
to her in this manner—"Well, Martha, we hope you begin to love prayer, and find
the sweetness of communion with God. It will be your desire in future to devote
time to the exercises of piety; but, remember, this time must be redeemed by
industry, good management, and self-denial, not robbed from your duties to your
family. Your husband must find his home more cleanly and comfortable than ever,
his wishes and comforts more promptly and kindly attended to, his children kept
in better order. Be sure you never forget to pray for the ornament of a meek and
quiet spirit: there is nothing which more adorns religion in the eyes of those
who have not embraced it. There must be no more bitter words with your husband;
no more violence with your children. If your husband is vexatious, or
unreasonable, or unkind, you must always have ready a soft answer, which turns
away wrath. With your children, you must be at once firm and mild, and then they
will mind you ten times more than when you beat or scolded them. It is thus
that, by your holy life, you will recommend the religion you profess. Your
temper will be often rising, and you will have hard work to keep it down; but if
you constantly seek strength from God, his strength will be made perfect in your
weakness; and the power of true religion will be displayed in the conquest, it
enables you to maintain over your easily besetting sin." To one of my brothers,
then an apprentice, who had recently indulged the hope that he was reconciled to
God, a pious friend said, "Now, young man, you profess to be a partaker of the
grace of God, which brings salvation; and it must teach you not only to deny
ungodliness, but also worldly lusts, and to live soberly, righteously, and godly
in the present world. Young men under its influence must learn to be
sober-minded. I hope you will no longer have an inclination for the society or
the pleasures of those who fear not God. I hope and believe that the light song,
the public-house jest, the impure word or action, would be odious in your
esteem: but this is not all; you must be more than ever diligent and devoted to
your master’s interests—no eye-servant, but one who acts as if the master were
always present. There must be no pert, sullen, or grudging answer, but with
good-will you must do service as unto the Lord." There was a very industrious,
saving couple, who lived in a cottage belonging to Farmer West. They were
religious people, very constant in attending on the means of grace, and brought
up their children in a sober, orderly manner. It need hardly be said, that they
were reputed very honest people—for there cannot be a pious person who is not
honest—but there was a sort of self-love and covetousness indulged, which,
though it might not be exactly called dishonesty, yet went far enough to sully
the brightness of their religious profession, and gave occasion to their master
and fellow-servants to remark that, "religious people generally take pretty good
care of themselves." Such sneers ought not to be brought against religion: if
they are false, great is the guilt of those who utter them: but if religious
people, in any degree, give occasion for them, they are guilty, in a degree, of
religious inconsistency; for they profess to be governed not only by the first
great commandment, but by the second, which is like unto it, "You shall love
your neighbor as yourself," and "Whatever you would that men should do unto you,
do you even so unto them." To the cottage inhabited by these people, there was a
large garden attached, half of which they cultivated for their master, and half
for themselves. They had also the care of the poultry for their master, and kept
poultry of their own. Now, it was observed that the fattest chickens and the
largest eggs were carried to market on their own account, and the smallest sent
for the use of their master’s family; and that the finest cabbage, broccoli, and
onions, were on their side of the garden. There was not much difference in the
general appearance of the garden, but enough to convince a keen observer, that
there was rather more labor bestowed on one half than the other, that the ground
was rather better fertilized, and that the best of the plants and flowers found
their way to that side. Now, who could say this was direct dishonesty? and yet,
who could help feeling that it was selfishness, very unworthy of the professors
of religion? Then, again, the man in question was paid by his master regular
day-wages. It is not said that he did not go to work pretty nearly at the
appointed time; but then he had first been laboring two or three hours for
himself; and every allotted hour of refreshment he was again toiling away at his
own concerns; and surely industry and early rising are highly commendable; yet
even these may be carried so far as to involve a species of dishonesty. If a
man’s time is paid for, he is bound not merely to spend the stipulated hours on
his master’s ground, but to allow himself sufficient repose to bring his full
vigor to the task; and, unless employed and paid at task-work, it can hardly be
reckoned just that he should spend the best part of his strength on his own
business, and go to his master’s work half wearied and exhausted. What little
things mark the character! and what improper views are formed of religion, under
the impression that it sanctions all the conduct of its professors! Another
laborer of Farmer West’s made no profession of religion; yet there was more
frankness, strict integrity, and cheerful good-will in his services: and it is
greatly to be feared that the farmer was hardened in his indifference to
religion, and almost led to conclude that a man is better without it than with
it, by observing in the professor of religion, those little deceits, of which an
honest, generous man, who made no such profession, would have been utterly
ashamed. Another fact, which led him to this false and dangerous conclusion,
was, the detection of his dairy-maid in regularly handing out cream at the dairy
window for the washerwoman’s tea, without her mistress’s knowledge. The girl who
was guilty of this, and several other sly, dishonest tricks, made a great
pretense of being religious, and was very clamorous for liberty to enjoy her
religious privileges, even to a degree incompatible with the discharge of her
ordinary duties. "Well," said the farmer, "I am sick to death of religious
servants; and, if I can have my will, I shall never have another Christian in my
service!" In consequence of this prejudice, several deserving people were kept
out of the farmer’s employ, solely because they were known to be pious: and what
is still worse, the honest farmer and his honest man flattered themselves that
they should do exceedingly well without religion, and went on in the
self-satisfying delusion to the end of their days! Very different was the effect
produced by the conduct of a truly consistent apprentice. This youth was
awakened to deep concern about the interests of his immortal soul; and a
striking change was manifested in his general conduct. His parents regarded this
change as a heavy calamity, fully expecting that, by thus taking to serious
religion, their son would be unfitted for common duties, and would neglect his
worldly interests. In the hope of preventing these evils, they determined to
remove him from the society and connections which had thus (in their esteem)
ruined him, and to place him apprentice in another town. The lad willingly
complied with the wishes of his parents, and declared his readiness to obey his
master and mistress, and to serve their interests to the utmost of his power;
but that he must stipulate for liberty to serve God according to the dictates of
his conscience on the Sabbath. His parents, thinking that opposition in this
particular might defeat the whole scheme, begged that for the present he might
be indulged; observing, that when once the indentures were signed, the master
might oppose his folly, if he were not wholly cured of it. "Nay," said the
master, "if he minds my business, I shall not interfere with his religion,
provided he does not bring it home to turn the heads of my family." At this
time, the master and mistress, and their family, lived in total ignorance of
God, and neglect of his worship. They had some confused idea that it was a very
bad thing to have too much religion; and as this was alleged to be the failing
of their new apprentice, they expected to find him proud, morose, and insolent.
Nothing, however, could be farther from the truth: a more diligent, faithful,
civil, obliging lad they had never seen, and withal so cheerful and contented,
that it was a pleasure to do anything for him, or to have anything done by him.
The master and mistress, notwithstanding their prejudices, could not help
approving and loving him; and the little children, too young to share the
prejudice, clung fondly round his knee, or climbed his chair in the evening, to
hear a pretty story or to enjoy a merry jump. At the time appointed, his father
came over to bind him, if approved. All parties expressed themselves satisfied
and willing. "And how is it," asked the father, "about his religion?" "O,"
replied the master and mistress, "we have not seen anything at all of that. He
is always minding his business, and always cheerful and happy." True enough,
they had not seen his religion, which, like the roots of a tree, lay hid in his
heart; and it had not yet occurred to them that all this good conduct, and
cheerful, pleasant temper, were the natural results of it, just as much as the
leaves, and blossoms, and fruits of the tree. Several months elapsed. The youth
continued steady, faithful, and diligent in business; but, at the same time,
fervent in spirit, serving the Lord. He never neglected his duty to his master;
but he delighted to redeem time for the service of his God; and on the Sabbath,
especially, it was observed that no proposal of pleasure could seduce him from
the house of his God, or the sacred retirement of his chamber. At length the
mistress said to her husband, "Well, I cannot imagine what there is so much
amiss in John’s religion. I am determined some day to go and hear for myself."
She did accordingly. She was impressed with the solemnity of the worship, and
the sacred truths she heard enforced; and she went again and again, first taking
one child with her and then another: and all seemed pleasingly surprised at what
was so new to them. At length she ventured to propose to her husband to have a
cold dinner on the Sundays, that she might be enabled to attend public worship
in the morning. This proposal aroused his suspicion and anger. "No," said he; "I
work hard all the week; it is hard indeed if I can’t enjoy myself on a Sunday.
If this is what your religion comes to, I will soon put a stop to it." He
declared she should attend public worship no more; but was at last won over by
the gentle persuasion of his wife and his apprentice, first to go once—just
once—and hear for himself. He went, and from that time, so far from attempting
to hinder others, he became himself a constant attendant in the house of
prayer—a diligent inquirer after salvation. The aspect of the whole family
became changed. Family worship was established; family order maintained;
children trained up in the way they should go; and servants instructed to keep
the commands of the Lord: and all these blessed effects might be traced, under
God, to the steady, unobtrusive, consistent piety of an apprentice boy, who
adorned the doctrine of God his Savior in all things. Nor was he left without
hope that his prayers were heard, and his endeavors succeeded on behalf of those
still nearer and dearer to himself. The opposition of his parents was in time
subdued. They often took sweet counsel with the child they had so bitterly
censured, and walked to the house of God in company, entertaining the delightful
hope of a happy meeting at last in the house eternal in the heavens. Let all who
profess piety be thus humble, consistent, modest and exemplary. Let their
religion be rather seen and felt—than heard. If heard, let it rather be in the
gentle expostulation of love, than in angry reproach and clamorous disputation.
True religion will regulate the whole deportment and temper; it will teach its
subjects to walk in wisdom and in kindness; and it will lodge a testimony in the
bosoms of observers, that there is such a thing as true religion; that it is a
blessed thing; and that those they observe really possess it. Thus will they be
constrained, by your good works which they behold, to glorify your Father who is
in heaven. ADVICE FOR CHILDREN I have many things which I wish to say to
children. Some things, perhaps, will amuse them; and I hope they will feel
interested in what I write. But, more than all, I hope they will remember and
profit by what may be related; for it is for their improvement and good that I
write. In these days almost all children have the opportunity to attend Sabbath
schools, and some of the richest pious privileges, which they enjoy, come
through this institution. Children, however, we fear, do not sufficiently feel
their responsibility for these privileges. I recently met, somewhere, with the
following description of the members of a class, written by their teacher. My
young readers may perhaps learn a useful lesson by perusing it. "A. has been
with me nearly three years. In that time she has been absent only twice, morning
and afternoon. I cannot speak decidedly as to her piety; but there is a love to
the school shown by her that is highly gratifying; while diligence in learning,
readiness in answering questions, attention to her teacher, and respectful
behavior, mark her character. A. does not wait until the clock has struck, but
is generally seated, with a smiling face, before her teacher’s arrival. You will
perhaps say she is a favorite; true, but then I have several. B., sister of the
above, but younger, strives to imitate her sister in regularity and punctuality,
but is not her equal in ability. There is great difficulty in drawing an answer
from her; and sometimes there is an appearance of something like sullenness. She
has more trouble in getting her task than the others; but no excuses are made,
and the timid little girl, with a pale cheek, who is occupied all the week in
nursing an infant, stands up to repeat her lessons with her more gifted sister.
C. has been several years in the school; and she once occasioned her teacher
much pain by her trifling conduct; but there is a marked change in her behavior,
and the blush that overspreads her face, and the tears which glisten in her
eyes, if she is reproved, argue a degree of feeling that is quite encouraging.
Her parents are extremely poor, and, though young, she has to work for her
bread; but the delight shown in her countenance when she enters the school,
after being absent but once, is very pleasing. She is quick in understanding,
and often surprises me by the correctness of her answers. I do hope this school
will prove a blessing to this little girl. D. is a little giddy gossip, whom I
have much difficulty in restraining; but when I see her sparkling eyes, after
her long walk, and as early as any, I confess I am pleased. She is very shrewd,
and has little difficulty in learning correctly. As far as I can judge, this
child has very few advantages at home: her parents are continually changing
their residence, seldom remaining a month in one place. E. is the only child of
her mother, who is a widow. She is a very interesting little girl, of gentle,
pleasing manners, and an intelligent countenance; she takes great pleasure in
reading the books from the library, which are also read by the mother. I trust
the one thing which is lacking, will be supplied by Him from whom all good
things proceed; and that will be a sure preservative against what I grieve to
witness—the unwise fondness of the mother, displayed in the fine dress of the
child. F. has the misfortune to possess parents, who, with a large family, care
little for their children’s real welfare. Destitute of religion, and lovers of
pleasure themselves, their children are greatly to be pitied; and while F.’s
behavior at school leads me to trust that her attendance will be useful to her,
I cannot but hope that the books obtained from the library, which are read at
home, may have a beneficial tendency on the family as well as on her. G. is a
girl of considerable ability; but conscious of this, she displays a degree of
conceit painful to witness. She possesses advantages over the others in point of
circumstances, and I often observe her contrasting her own dress with the
plainer clothes of the others. My ardent prayer for her is, that she may be
clothed with humility, and have the ornament of a meek and quiet spirit. H. is
quite a contrast to the last. She has been with me but a short time, but bids
fair to be my best scholar—early in attendance, diligent in learning, neat and
befitting in her dress, respectful in her behavior, humble and teachable in
disposition. I hope for solid, lasting fruit from such hopeful appearances. But
the flower of my class is K. Young in years, her manners and appearances would
proclaim her much older than she is. Her modest, unassuming conduct, her
willingness to learn, her meek and quiet spirit, render her quite a pattern. I
trust there is indeed some good thing in K., though her reserve has not
permitted her to communicate her thoughts and feelings on pious subjects at
present. Little L., the youngest in the class, and sister of the above, displays
abilities far before her years. This little girl loves her teacher, and I am
sure you would be as pleased as I am, to see her eyes glisten with delight when
she enters her class. I am afraid I love this child too well; but I believe I do
not show it to the others. K. and L. possess pious parents; and this in some
measure accounts for their superiority. And now, having faintly sketched the
character of my youthful charge, I confess the feeling of responsibility presses
heavily upon me, and the inquiry escapes, "Who is sufficient for these things?"
When I reflect on the fact so forcibly stated by Mr. James in the "Teacher’s
Guide," that "Every child who passes the threshold of our school on a Sunday,
brings to our care, and confides to our ability, a soul, compared with whose
worth and duration the sun is a bauble, and time itself but as the twinkling of
an eye;" I deeply feel the solemn engagement of a teacher. When I remember that
the character of these young ones is now forming, I pray earnestly, that He who
loves little children may be their guide and friend forever, and that he would
make me "apt to teach." Children should be diligent and attentive in all their
studies, as well as in those of the Sabbath school. In fact, success in any
pursuit depends far more upon the habits of attention and perseverance which are
formed, than upon genius or any extraordinary endowments of nature. A friend of
mine has a little girl, whom I shall call Maria, whose character well
illustrates what I mean. She is a persevering child: by this I mean, that she is
not soon frightened with difficulties; that she endeavors to overcome all
obstacles, and to give satisfaction to her friends. Maria has not very great
abilities, and is not naturally so quick and sharp as many of her companions;
but she has a strong desire to improve, and this carries her above them all.
When she finds her lessons hard, she is so much the more desirous of mastering
them and of giving greater diligence. She is not only persevering in lessons,
but in all that she undertakes. She is a poor girl; and if her mother tells her
to scrub and clean anything, she will make it look well, or she is not
satisfied. If she sits down to needle-work, that must be done well also, or she
does not feel pleased. Her motto always seems to be, "Persevere;" and you know
there is an old saying, "Patience and perseverance will accomplish all things."
Thus I have drawn Maria’s character; and so far as it is praiseworthy and suited
to us, I hope we shall follow it. But there is such a thing, you know, as
perseverance in evil and sin. I need not tell you that I do not recommend this.
Persevere in all that is right; but we should set our faces as a flint against
sin. We have some lovely examples of perseverance in the Holy Scriptures, and
those scriptures contain many exhortations to this duty. Christ Jesus has said
that "men ought always to pray, and not to faint;" with respect to increasing in
knowledge, we are told, "get wisdom, get understanding, forget it not," and we
are commanded to "press toward the mark for the prize of our high calling;" and
sure I am, my dear little reader, that you will never be a clever child, or a
good child, or a kind child, or, what is far above all, a pious child—unless you
are persevering. You must not give up as soon as anything goes wrong; you must
try all the harder for that; for, believe me, you will never get any more
forward by sitting down and crying over your trouble. But, above all, allow me
to entreat you to persevere in the path of holiness. You are young, and exposed
to Satan’s temptations: "he goes about as a roaring lion, seeking whom he may
devour." Be earnest in praying for God’s strength; and may the Redeemer bless
your soul, give you ability for your proper employments, preserve you from all
evil, and lead you at last to a happy home above. I am always pleased when I see
children careful of their little property; especially I like to see them keep
their own little books neat and clean; yet I am persuaded many do not understand
what it is to take proper care of their Bibles, and other good books, such as
hymn-books or prayer-books. A lady had lent some linen to a laborer’s wife when
her youngest child was born, and in the box was a Bible for her use while she
was confined to the house. When the lady called to see the poor woman, she
remarked to her, "I am glad to see you getting so well, and it pleases me to see
you reading the Bible." "Why, ma’am," said she, "I was very glad to find it
among your things; I have read in it a great deal, and must try to buy myself
one, for I have not one of my own." "I am surprised to hear you say you have no
Bible. I thought you had received several at the church." "O yes, ma’am, and so
we have; my three boys have each obtained one for saying their catechism well;
but then they belong to the children, and they will not allow any one to read in
them. They keep them locked up in their own boxes." "When they go out to
service, or in any way to live from home," said the lady, "it will be quite
right that each boy should have his own Bible with him." "To be sure," said the
woman, "it is a good thing to have it in a house." "It is indeed," replied her
visitor; "but only good when used. Bread is a good thing when used; but what
good would it do you to lock the loaf in your cupboard, and never allow it to be
cut or tasted?" "Not much, to be sure," replied the laborer’s wife. "None at
all," said the lady; "you might be starved with bread in your house. Just so, a
Bible must not be looked upon as a charm that everybody ought to possess in the
house. It should be our constant support, like daily bread; and though you
should not deprive your children of their own books, given them as rewards for
diligence in learning, yet, until you have one of your own, I think you ought to
read theirs, which you may do without injuring them." Now, do any children who
read this possess a Bible, whose parents are destitute of one? and do they, like
these boys, lock them up from their relatives? I hope they will see their
mistake, and help to get one for their parents in some other way; and until they
have one of their own, lend them theirs, if they can read, or read it to them if
they cannot. They worked hard to get you bread; and where would you have been if
they had locked it up from you before you were old enough to labor? Some
children do help their parents in many ways. Now, consider, I ask you, how you
can help yours: it is God’s command you should do so. I have something to say
upon a subject which you, perhaps, may think of very little consequence; but
which I think a very important one—it is that of dress. I have often been much
grieved to see many children at church and Sabbath schools dressed in a very
improper and unbecoming manner; that is, with very mirthful gowns and ribbons,
and a great deal of trimming on their bonnets. Now, I dare say, those little
girls who wear such things are quite proud and delighted to be dressed so much
like fine ladies, and fancy that all the teachers and scholars, and everybody,
will think them more worthy of notice than children who are more plain and neat,
or even badly clothed. How much surprised and mortified they would be, if they
could hear the remarks upon them, and see how much they are ridiculed for that
very dress they are so fond of, and how much less they are really thought of by
every sensible person! I have often heard ladies remark, "What a pity it is that
little girl is dressed so! Poor thing, she would be quite a nice-looking girl if
she were dressed in a plain, neat, colored frock, and without all that trimming
on her bonnet; but now she looks quite awkward." My dear children, you know the
Bible tells us to be "clothed with humility:" now, though this text is generally
very properly understood to mean that we are to be humble in mind and heart, yet
I think it may also mean, that we are to be dressed according to our station in
life; for it would be equally improper for a young person, whose parents are
fully able to afford it, to be dressed like a poor person’s child, as it is for
them to attempt to appear like young ladies; for according as God has placed us
in this life, so ought we to appear; if servants, let us be servants; if
masters, as masters; for both are admonished and directed in the Bible, and
should be faithful in their appropriate duties. Now, you know, on the Sabbath
day, we ought to try and forget the world as much as possible, because God has
set apart this day for his worship, and to prepare us for a future state after
death, and has given us the means of learning our duty towards him, and the way
to heaven, on this day, by attending at school, and going to his house. Now, let
me ask those children who are always so much smarter on that day than any other,
if they are not generally thinking more about their fine clothes than anything
else. I can always see that they are, for we can judge of people’s thoughts by
their actions; and when I see girls taking up their white frocks for fear the
bench should soil them, tying and untying their bonnets, putting their sashes in
order, and every now and then taking their eyes from their books, to look at
their fine clothes, I am quite sure they must be thinking about their dress,
rather than what their teacher or minister is saying. And do you not know, my
dear children, that God will bring us to account for every opportunity of
worshiping Him, and learning our duty, which we have neglected? And while you
are thus thinking of your dress—how can you worship God, and learn your duty?
Now, how different it is with an attentive girl who is dressed befittingly; she
has not this temptation to be inattentive; and I generally find that those who
are neatly and plainly dressed are the best scholars. But do not mistake me; I
dislike a slovenly dress, as much as a fine one; I like always to see you in
clean frocks, and hands and face, on the Sabbath, for it is more a disgrace to
be dirty or untidy on this day more especially than any other, though it is a
disgrace on any day. Perhaps some of you will say, "I cannot help wearing my
fine frocks, because my father and mother buy them, and bid me put them on. I
know that this is the case; but when they do, it is very often in order to
please you; but if they saw you unwilling to wear them, and you were always
better pleased with neat, plain clothes, I am sure they would never go to the
expense (for it is a great one) of finer ones; therefore you have it greatly in
your power to prevent it. Should any parents read this, I would advise them, as
they regard the welfare of their children, to keep them from the love of fine
clothes. This has been the first step to the ruin of many a poor girl, and the
pride of human nature should be checked, not encouraged. But while you guard
against the outward appearance of vanity and pride, remember that the heart must
be changed by divine grace, or it will never be truly humble. Let all, then,
both parents and children, pray, "Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a
right spirit within me." Such a heart will always be humble, and the outward
appearance will agree with it. Mary Merton was one of the prettiest little girls
that ever was seen; her eyes were blue and bright; her lips and cheeks were red
as a ripe cherry; and oh! if you had seen her flaxen hair hang around her neck
and forehead! She sometimes dressed more showy than a Sunday school girl ought
to dress; for neatness and cleanliness are much more creditable than fine
clothes; but her mother used to indulge her in many things. Strange it is that
we should pride ourselves in adorning this sinful body, which will so soon
moulder in the grave; and neglect the soul, which Jesus Christ died to save, and
which must live forever! This Mary Merton went to the same Sunday school that
Sally Gardner attended; and many a time have I seen them trotting along the
green fields with a little bag of books in their hands, to be in time for the
opening of the school. Sally Gardner was very different in body and in mind from
Mary Merton. She was rather short, of a pale complexion, and her hair did not
curl at all: in short, I never heard anyone say that Sally was pretty. There is
no gift useless that God has given; and fine eyes, and fair faces, and beautiful
hair, are gifts not to be despised—when united to a humble heart, and a spirit
that fears God. But when possessed by the vain and proud, and those who scoff at
God’s holy word and commandments, they become sad snares. Though beauty is not
given by God in vain, nothing can be more foolish than to value ourselves for
possessing it; because it is a thing that may in a moment be destroyed, and
never can be expected to last long. E’en as the frost, in hapless hour, Will nip
and blast the freshest flower, So grief and pain will soon displace The roses
from the fairest face. Oftentimes did the squire’s lady observe Mary Merton and
Sarah Gardner, as they returned from the Sunday school; and as often did she
exclaim, looking at Mary Merton, "What a lovely girl!" But the squire’s lady
knew nothing of the dispositions and conduct of the two girls. Now, it happened
that one of the maid-servants at the squire’s house became ill and unable to
work; and the squire’s lady sent to the Sunday school to know whether the little
girl with the flaxen hair would come to her house until her servant was better.
The mother of Mary Merton was glad to hear that such notice had been taken of
her daughter; so little Mary prepared to go to the great house in the park. Had
Lady Rose known the temper of Mary Merton, she never would have chosen her to be
in her house. Whether it was that Mary had been praised for her beauty, or
whether her mother indulged her too much, I cannot say; but surely there never
was a more proud, passionate, obstinate, and idle girl. There was no girl in the
school half so intractable; and had it not been for Sarah Gardner’s kindness in
getting her to school, and in persuading her to amend her conduct, she never
could have remained so long at the Sunday school. Sarah Gardner, though not
pretty, was just what a Sunday school girl should be. Whether at home, or at her
class, she was always diligent, respectful to her superiors, and kind to her
equals. She loved her teachers, and her young heart was devoted to Christ. She
was not very wise, but she had been taught that the first step towards wisdom is
"the fear of the Lord." She did not know a great deal, but she knew that she was
a sinner, and that "Jesus Christ came into the world to save sinners." The
advantages of pious parents, kind teachers, and a godly minister, had been
blessed to her; so that in very deed her soul "magnified the Lord," and her
"spirit rejoiced in God her Savior." When Sarah knew that Mary was going to
Squire Rose’s, she gave her very good advice, and earnestly besought her to pray
to God, for Jesus Christ’s sake, to control her passions, and to enable her to
be a faithful servant; but Mary paid very little attention to the advice of her
friend. Though Lady Rose was delighted when Mary Merton made her appearance at
the hall, dressed in her best gown, with her fine flaxen hair curling around her
brow, yet it was not the same with the servants of the house; for they saw that
Mary prided herself upon her beauty, and were determined to mortify her as much
as possible. "What a lovely girl!" said Lady Rose, as Mary walked from the
parlor where they had been talking together. Mary heard the words, and was silly
enough to hold up her head higher than before: this was immediately noticed by
the servants. The troubles of poor Mary now came thick upon her: it was a part
of her duty to wait on the sick servant; but this she did so carelessly, and
showed so many airs, and flew into such passions, that complaints were made of
her continually: every fault she committed was made the most of; for she found
no friend, neither, indeed, did she deserve one. Lady Rose found, at last, that
though Mary was a lovely girl in her looks, she was lovely in nothing else; and
as she had something to do besides admiring her, so Mary Merton was sent home in
disgrace, and application made at the school for a girl who was more likely to
suit the situation. Sarah Gardner was sent directly; and though Lady Rose did
not call her a lovely girl, she soon found the difference between a pretty,
vain, passionate, idle girl—and one who was humble, meek and diligent, though
with a plain set of features. I dare say, that you have often remarked, however
pretty a face may be, that, if there be a bad temper in the heart, the face has
been far from pleasing; while, on the contrary, a good temper, a cheerful
spirit, and a contented, grateful heart, have made a plain face very agreeable.
While Sarah Gardner was gaining the good opinion of all around her, Mary Merton
was visited with affliction. She was taken ill with the small-pox, and her face
was covered all over with frightful blotches. Mary had no patience, and could
not control herself, but picked her face so much, that, when she recovered,
instead of being pretty, she was as plain a girl as I ever saw. During her
illness, Sarah Gardner visited her frequently, and comforted her. On these
occasions, she never forgot kindly to tell Mary of her faults, pointing them out
not as trifling errors, but as great sins; and directing her, in simple
language, to "the Lamb of God that takes away the sin of the world." When Mary
Merton was well, her mother was silly enough to tell her that, though she had
not so pretty a face as she once had, yet she had the finest head of flair of
any one in the parish; and Mary became as proud as ever. But poor Mary’s
troubles were not ended, for in this world we cannot sin without sorrowing; "God
is of too pure eyes to behold iniquity," and he is too good to look to his
creatures to allow them to sin without chastising them. Thus when a flock has
gone astray, And wolves are watching for their prey, The shepherd still, his
flock to hold, Will fright them back into his fold. Mary Merton was asked out to
a party of young people, at a distance; and though it rained very hard, she
obstinately persisted in going there, with light clothing and thin shoes. Mary’s
principal reason for going was to show off her fine flaxen hair. She got wet,
took a cold, which was followed by a fever, and all her beautiful hair fell from
her head. Deprived of the gift she had made so poor a use of, she became fretful
and repining, tormented her silly mother by her bad passions, and was as well
known for her ill temper as Sarah Gardner was for the sweetness of her
disposition. Remember, my dear young readers, that we were to try to improve
this year; learn, then, from this account, how much more valuable is the mind
adorned with Christian graces, than the body adorned with fleeting beauty. Like
Sarah Gardner, be diligent in every duty you perform; but, above all, seek the
grace of God; for had not Sarah Gardner done this, she had never shown so many
Christian graces as she manifested in her life. A life of faith in the Savior
will probably be followed by a peaceful death, and is sure to be followed by an
eternal life of peace and joy. Remember how closely the present life is
connected with that which is to come, and give your young hearts to the Lord
your God, for his power is great; his truth extends from one generation to
another; and his mercy "endures forever." Sarah Gardner remained at the hall
respected by everyone; for she continued to be not only a faithful servant to
Lady Rose, but also a servant of the Most High. One day, as Lady Rose looked out
of her drawing room window, she saw Sarah Gardner walking down one side of the
shrubbery with Mary Merton, who had called at the hall. "Ay," said Lady Rose to
herself, "if I had known as much of these two girls when they were at the Sunday
school together, as I do now, I should not have called Mary Merton a lovely
girl, but Sarah Gardner." REMARKS ON RELIGIOUS EDUCATION In a call I once made
on a lady well known as a humble Christian, and much devoted to the care and
pious instruction of her children, the conversation turned upon this interesting
and important part of a mother’s duty. Her children seemed early ripening for
heaven; and she could calmly view the approach of sickness and death, which had
taken two of her lovely children from this world; for she knew they had only
"gone before" to a happy inheritance. I inquired how she thus early obtained
such an influence over her children, and interested them so strongly in their
duty, and in pious instruction. She replied that she had always supposed it of
the first importance that mothers should have the entire confidence of their
children; that into all their little troubles, as well as pleasures, a mother
should enter with ready sympathy. She made a point of devoting a few minutes to
them as soon as possible after she returned from a walk, a meeting, or a visit,
and endeavored to relate something which should interest all, even the youngest.
This habit also improved her own powers of observation and attention. Her mind
was on the alert; no little incident passed unnoticed, which might be made to
convey some moral or pious lesson. She never attempted to give pious instruction
to a child merely because she herself happened to be in a frame for it; but if
the circumstances were such as to render the opportunity favorable, she
endeavored not to let it pass by unimproved. If any act of kindness or
benevolence attracted their notice, she would give it its due commendation, and
bring to their minds the greater benevolence and kindness of God to them and all
his creatures. If they witnessed or heard of a scene of suffering or distress,
she would hear their story, and then lead their awakened feelings to the scene
of Christ’s sufferings and death; and I believe the opportunities thus watched
and improved were blessed, in an uncommon degree, in calling up their attention,
and impressing their minds with the importance of the subject. If a child
committed a fault, she would gently explain to it that it had done wrong; but
she would endeavor, if it was one which exhibited unkindness, ill humor, or
impatience, to convince it that the greatest sin in conducting thus was
committed against God; and he only could bestow that forgiveness which would
give them peace and happiness. In such a case, she would, if possible, pray with
them, or, if circumstances were such as to make it proper, the elder child would
pray with the younger. If a child, through carelessness or accident, did any
mischief or injury to anything, she thought that in many cases immediate
punishment would give the impression that it was the injury done, far more than
the habit of inattention or carelessness, that was noticed; and great caution
should be used in such cases. If the child had been previously forbidden to
touch or play with the injured article, and the case was one of decided
disobedience, she inflicted punishment for that, and not for the harm done; if
an act of forgetfulness had occurred, or an instance of the lack of care, the
child in fault was deprived afterwards of some pleasure or indulgence which it
valued, and, by calmly explaining the reason, the lesson was more strongly
impressed. The following is an example. "May I have on my hat and go with Jane?"
said a little boy of four years old. "No," said the mother; "I want you to go
upstairs with me, while Jane is out." After they were alone, the mother says,
"Charles, you like to walk with Jane very much, and see all the things in the
street. I like to have you go out and be happy; but yesterday you were
disobedient. I let you go in the court to play, for you promised me you would
not go out of it; and you disobeyed, and went into the street." "I forgot it,
mamma." "I know you did; but you must learn to remember; and so today you must
not go out, but stay in my room while Jane takes her walk. I am now going to be
busy. Here is a little book which has some pretty pictures in it; now you may
sit down here, and be still until I am ready to go downstairs." With regard to
very early pious instruction, my friend made some remarks which pleased me much.
She said it seemed to her, that, in attempting to begin to store the minds of
young children with pious truth, there was one great and irreparable mistake. As
soon as a child begins to speak, it is taught hymns, or short texts of
scripture, or even a simple prayer, in which the name of God is introduced; and
these he is allowed to repeat in a light and careless air, entirely inconsistent
with the words he uses. "Every parent knows," continued my friend, "with what
interest the first lispings of childhood are watched, repeated, and made a
subject of amusement. Children are continually brought forward to tell a visitor
what they have learned from the Bible or hymn-book. This kind of display is
wrong where even the sentiment uttered is one, at which we may innocently smile,
and is understood by the little prattler; but it is far more injurious when
solemn and serious words, taught to a child at this early age, are repeated in
such a way. As it grows older, can you expect any exhortations of seriousness to
produce the desired effect? You talk to the child of God. He is told, perhaps,
that God sees him when he is naughty; that he is displeased with him for
disobedience or bad behavior. All this is felt by the mother, and is said with a
seriousness which the solemnity of the truth would naturally produce; but if the
words employed have before been often used in a light and playful manner, which
has called forth many a half-smothered laugh or suppressed smile, they will not
easily afterwards make any serious impression. If a child learns words only to
express ideas, or, rather, only as fast as they can be explained to him, and the
first pious truths are simply conveyed, in a serious manner, and when he is not
engaged in play, how much greater is the probability that they will sink into
his heart, and hereafter bring forth the desired fruit!" Let all who have
anything to do with children remember how important is every step. It is no easy
thing to eradicate ideas once given; and every parent should be doubly watchful
lest, in endeavoring to bring her child to God, she does not, either by precept
or example, do away the effect which she intends to produce. In my frequent
visits to different families, I have, with interest, watched the various methods
and ways of giving children pious instruction, or leading them to their duty,
which have been very useful; and I shall give some anecdotes which will interest
and instruct some of my readers, who have the important charge of immortal
souls, not merely to train and instruct for duty in life—but for eternity. MY
OWN WAY There was one little cottage, near Cotman Deen, that attracted my
attention: it had not the outward marks of anything like expense, nor even those
little indulgences which the poor can often with propriety afford themselves.
But a little garden in front was neatly cultivated; the pink and carnation
bloomed green on its borders; thyme, daisies, and southernwood, were to be seen;
and roses, that scented the evening air with their perfumes, shaded the rustic
portico. An aged female sat spinning beneath it. Tired with my journey, and
delighted with the decent look of the place, I lifted the latch of the little
gate that led into the garden, and going towards the seat at the door, asked the
old woman if she would allow me to sit down, and rest a few minutes. She readily
agreed, and we began to converse. "You have a comfortable, quiet little abode,
in which to spend your old age," said I. She expressed her gratitude to God for
it, and added, "It is more than I deserve, for I have been a rebellious child to
that God who has led me, these many years, in the wilderness." "How old are
you?" I asked. "How old am I?—ah, Miss! I have arrived at the end of our time
here; my strength is labor and sorrow, as the wise man said, for I am fourscore
years old." "And can you not say that goodness and mercy have followed you all
the days of your life?" "Yes; they have followed me, gone before me, restrained,
encouraged and brought me to this last stage. I was young once, and, like most,
I loved my own way; but God, in mercy, generally embittered it to me; and if I
persisted in following it after the sad consequences had been felt, he brought
me back with weeping and supplication. "My good old father and mother often told
me, that I must learn to submit my will to the providence of God; but I heeded
not their counsel as I ought: I loved the world and its gaieties, and never felt
so well pleased as when finely dressed, and in the midst of vain and thoughtless
young people like myself. The ball, the fair, and every opportunity of village
dissipation, I eagerly embraced. "Once—I remember it was on a fine summer’s
day—my poor old father had gone to his work, and my mother was spinning as I may
be now: it was fair-day, and I was going there. I came down our little stooping
staircase, very smartly attired for the holiday. My mother looked at me from
head to foot; I thought she seemed not quite pleased with my purpose, and yet
felt a mother’s exultation in the appearance of her child. "Now you’ll mind
where you go, and with whom," said she, "and be sure you are home before dusk."
"I met my companions, and in the fair, a young man joined our party, who knew
some among us. He was very attentive to me, and before I left the company, I had
become, perhaps, a little interested in him. "In a few months after this we were
married; but this step was taken against the advice of my parents, the voice of
conscience, and the dictates of common prudence. My husband was in the habit of
getting intoxicated; but since our courtship, and for a little time after our
marriage, he gave up the alehouse. Then he made such fair promises, and laid
such pleasant schemes, that I believed him, rather than my parents, who judged
from the past, and dissuaded me gently and kindly from marrying him. But I
trimmed my new hat with ribbons, and bought my new gown, and went to church to
promise to honor and obey a man, whom certainly I loved as far as passion goes,
but whom I could neither respect nor take for my guide through life. "My poor
old father and mother went home with us to a little cottage which my husband had
decently furnished, and left us not until God’s blessing had been implored. "I
thought now I should be quite happy, and that for once my mother would find my
own way to be right. Things went on well at first; my husband brought me home
his wages regularly, and as I laid them out as carefully as I knew how to do, we
lived comfortably, and put aside a part. I added a little poultry; I sold my
eggs, and reared chickens: I also prepared my husband’s meals with neatness and
comfort, when he returned home from work. "But still I loved my own way, and
when it happened to interfere with his wishes, I carried my point against all
reason. At last my husband used to give up; but I thought he did not seem to
love his house so well as before; he was always engaged to play games and cards
with his shopmates, which at last I found was nothing but an excuse for going to
the public-house. I felt discouraged, and asked why he again gave way to sins he
had so faithfully promised to avoid. He said he would mend; but continued to
promise and relapse. I had indulged in many purchases of a useless and showy
nature in my furniture and dress, that I never saw at home; but the approaching
birth of my first infant led me to be more careful; for my husband’s earnings, I
found, were not all brought home to me, as formerly. I felt joy in the prospect
of becoming a mother; and a certainty that his babe would so take his attention,
that my husband would be a changed character. My babe was a lovely little
creature, and my husband also loved it; he was very proud of it, and liked to
stand with it in his arms, and hear folks say, ’What a lovely child it is!’ "The
wages were again brought in punctually, and then I felt sure that my own way was
right. "But in a few months ’my little son!’ was an old story, and again the
alehouse was the center of attraction. About this time my baby was very ill; I
had given up my poultry, and had therefore no store of my own to apply to. I
needed medicine for the child, which was expensive, and little preparations that
were needful on such occasions: and now came the first pinch. I saw my babe
languishing with heavy eye and feverish skin, and had no money to procure for
him the medications I thought would do him good. I flew into a passion with my
husband, and told him his conduct would kill his child and break my heart. He
told me I might have had what I needed, but for my idleness in giving up my
poultry-yard. This exasperated me, and a burst of tears was my only relief. I
sat watching my infant through the night, and, solitary as I was, could not help
acknowledging to myself that this was the sad effect of having my own way. "But
little Charles looked better at the glad return of morning—his eye was less
heavy, his dimple and smile again sweetly cheered my anxious heart. I gave him
his scanty breakfast of coarse fare, and he dozed off gently to sleep again. "My
gloom dispersed, I thought I should not care for anything if he but lived. My
wish was granted, and God spared the child of an ungrateful parent; and I once
again saw him run to meet the return of his poor, unhappy father. "It was now
with difficulty I could provide our table with food, and keep the remainder of
our clothes tidy and whole. But the reflections I had, during my Charles’s
illness, led me not to upbraid my husband so violently as I might have done, had
I not seen that all was caused by my having my own way. "The birth of a second
child was to put my economy and contrivance to the test. I again strove to
provide things comfortable; but it was no such easy matter—very little was
brought me by my husband, and I found, that, besides his drunkenness, he was in
the habit of gambling. I had, as long as I could, from pride, kept all from my
mother; I knew my parents had but very little, and I could not take from them.
But now, worn out with fatigue and sorrow, I went to pour out my grief into my
mother’s bosom. I found her in her neat kitchen, all tidy, though poor. She was
reading, ’O that my people had hearkened unto me, and Israel had walked in my
ways; I should soon have subdued their enemies. He should have fed them with the
finest of the wheat.’ I sobbed out the tale of my woe; and I confessed to my
mother that I felt my sorrows arose from my obstinacy in having my own way. I
asked her if God would forgive me, and lead me in his own right way, if I sought
him. "’Alas, my child!’ she said, with tears in her eyes, ’you have indeed
forsaken the fountain, and hewed out to yourself broken cisterns that can hold
no water. But yet return to God: he may, he will have mercy upon you. He will
seek after and restore the wandering sheep, and has but embittered your own way,
that you may return unto him: "I will hedge up her way with thorns, that she
shall not find her paths."’ "I told my mother how ill I was: she soothed and
advised me. I told her how I was grieved to see my husband’s conduct, and that I
feared his inveterate habits would eventually wear him out, for I saw disease
already taking hold upon him. I told her I was poor, and had not needful
supplies for my situation—she promised to help me, and she kept her word. Above
all, I told her I feared God would call me to judgment at my approaching hour of
trial. I felt I was a sinner, and should perish, and leave behind me, perhaps,
two dear little helpless children. "I returned home to my cottage, comforted by
my good old mother’s conversation. I put my child to sleep, and sat down to
work, and when my husband returned, drunk as usual, I made the best of my
desolate situation, and tried to recollect the scriptures my mother had read to
me. As my term approached, I begged that God would spare my life for the sake of
my family, and determined that I would exert myself to support them in some way,
that we might not wholly depend on their father for bread. But after the birth
of my infant, I continued so ill that I could not put my plan into execution,
and I thought God was going to call me to give an account of my actions—I
dreaded the thought. "Day after day, as I lay weak and languishing, did I
meditate on the self-will and folly that had brought me to all this. The little
nourishment I took was provided from the scanty means of my poor parents. It was
a wretched house; for in it drunkenness and swearing abounded, and poverty was
pressing hard upon us. Slowly I began to mend, and thankful was I to find myself
once more seated in our little room below. But it was not what I had made it
when we married. My mirthful carpet had been sold for bread; four of my chairs
were gone; and the whole appearance was now bare and comfortless. "I had now two
children to provide for; my husband’s health was sinking under excess, and oh,
how heart-breaking was the prospect before me! With the little money he brought
me I endeavored to manage, until my recovery was completed; and then I knew not
what step to take for bettering our condition. I had no money; my baby prevented
my going out to seek employment; and I began to sink into despair. At last I
bethought me of my mother’s remedy—prayer. I determined to beg of God to help me
to some relief, and to give me strength to bear up under all my trials. It was
evening. I had nursed my infant to sleep, and, as she lay quietly by me, I
kneeled down, but I uttered not a word; I could only sigh and weep forth the
burden of my heart. The night was tempestuous; the wind, in gusts, shook our
little abode, and the rain was pelting violently against the casement. I looked
out to see if my husband was returning; but, unable to discover anything, I sat
down supperless, to wait his arrival. In the dead of night I thought I heard a
deep groan near the door-way, and, looking out, discovered my husband in a state
of insensibility; I ran to a neighbor, and obtained assistance to lift him in
doors; but was shocked beyond measure to find, on seeing his face by the light,
that the ghastly hue of death was spread over it. In his dying moments he had
uttered the groan that had roused my attention. My mind was all distraction—I
had loved my husband even in the midst of his profligacy, and this, with the
distressing uncertainty as to his future state, nearly overcame my reason;
moreover I was a widow, and my children orphans. Oh, when I saw the coffin
carried from my wretched door, when I found myself alone in abject poverty, then
I saw the folly of my own way! "My poor father’s cottage received me again, not
what I had left it, a blooming, mirthful, thoughtless girl, but a widow, a
mother in distress. As I used to sit nursing my baby on the old garden seat,
where the play days of my childhood were spent, many a bitter tear has fallen,
many a heavy sigh escaped me. To this period, however, I look back with grateful
feeling, as one in which I learned much that was good; and while I acknowledged
the folly of having my own way, the Almighty turned the curse into a blessing,
and led me, in the midst of my distress, to seek refuge in Him. I was gradually
enabled to see that in Christ alone solid happiness was to be found; and seeking
eagerly from the lips of my mother that instruction I had so often despised, I
tasted some of the enjoyments of true religion; but alas I was not yet brought
simply to the foot of the cross. "While I was toiling to assist in our support,
my little Charles was growing a fine, tall, healthy boy, turbulent in
disposition, and often I found it difficult to manage his temper. My father and
mother often told me that I was allowing my children to get the better of me,
and that one day or other I should repent it; but I thought they were only like
all children, and like what I once was. I loved them so dearly that I made a
thousand excuses for them. If they troubled me, I gave them a slap, and talked
loudly to them of what I would do; but I never took the trouble to administer
proper correction; indeed, my system partook more of idleness than of a wise
concern for their welfare. Charles’s headstrong temper often made his
grandfather sigh, and give some wise counsel to me; but I loved my own way
still. I thought time would do what I indolently neglected, and that as he grew
older he would behave better. His conduct at divine worship disturbed the
congregation; in the neighborhood he was mischievous; and to me he was very
often tiresome; yet there was nothing about the boy but what, under the divine
blessing, timely chastisement might have subdued, and brought into good order.
"My Susan, a lovely little girl, seemed to give fair promise of being my chief
comfort. I denied her nothing, whether reasonable or unreasonable; and when she
threw her little arms round my neck and kissed me, all the mother’s feelings
rose tumultuously in my bosom; I longed to bring her up to a higher station, and
make her more than her mother had ever been; but my means were few and
contracted. I now labored for them, and I hoped to rise and lift them with me
into a higher station. I could read, write, and work well, and by the advice of
my parents and friends, I opened a school for the village children. Unfit as I
was for the charge, I got forward; I had an increase in a few months of so many,
that I could afford to place Charles daily with a respectable person, to learn
to read, write, and cast accounts, while my little Susan sat by me, and learned,
or was idle, as it happened to suit her inclination. "My father gradually sunk
in the valley of years, and infirmity after infirmity crept upon him, until at
last, he sunk into the sleep of death. His last hours, like his whole life, were
consistent; he had no new religion to seek, but the firm foundation on which he
had rested his hope supported him in a dying day. He found consolation in the
Savior; the hope which had cheered his life supported him in his dying hour.
"The day after the funeral, which my numerous though humble school enabled me to
see decently conducted—I shall never forget it—the clergyman stepped in as we
were just sitting down to our tea. ’What an interesting sight!’ said he; ’how in
the appearance of this cottage circle is the pattern of life portrayed! Here,’
pointing to Susan, ’is the dawn of life, knowing no real ill, and sporting on
the very verge of a scene of trial, soon to be entered upon, unthinkingly.
There,’ said he, pointing to me, ’is the traveler in the burden and heat of the
day, often overpowered by the toil of the journey, anxious to provide for and
rear the offspring God has given. There,’ pointing to the corner in which my
dear aged mother sat, ’is one who has passed the sultry hours; a few steps
farther, and her toils are ended. And there,’ pointing to the empty arm-chair,
the old stick, and the hat that hung upon the wall, ’there are the staff and
sandals laid aside. May each follow close in the steps of this aged Christian,
and arrive as he did at the Christian’s end. My children, love and fear your
aged parents’ God: my young friend, walk in the steps of your holy father, and
beware of having your own way. To you, my venerable friend, what shall I say?
Look forward and rejoice that there is a rest awaiting you; and to the happy
spirit, were it possible, I would waft the congratulations of a sincere heart.’
"My mother now gave up her labors entirely, and attended only to my little
household concerns. I shall here pass over several years of my short, chequered
pilgrimage: Charles was eighteen, Susan was seventeen, and not quite so
affectionate to her mother as when, a laughing child, she used to clasp me to
her with delight. I had allowed her to love her own way, when it was only a
trifling inconvenience to me; but this temper had grown with her growth and
ripened with her years, and now she formed an attachment to a young fellow,
which I saw, with anguish, would lead her through the same scene her wretched
mother had passed. But Charles was wringing my heart with more bitter
anguish—still froward in childhood, he had become ungovernable in youth. A
desirable situation, procured for him by our clergyman, was thrown away in a fit
of mad folly to go to sea. Oh, when I went with him to the vessel, saw him step
upon its deck, and when he bade me adieu with a tear struggling in his eye, as
if half inclined to repent, how did I bear it! It was of him I was so proud; for
him I had offered my first prayer; for him I had labored many a weary day; his
whims I had indulged, his folly in childhood and wickedness in youth I had
failed to correct; and now he could blaspheme, and was plunging headlong into
ruin. "I turned away from the scene, sick at heart with sorrow excited to the
extreme. It was at the close of the day, in the latter end of autumn; I passed
several windows, where the fires were blazing cheerfully, and the happy family
parties collecting round the tea-table; but no cheerful fireside was waiting my
return. My mother was sleeping silently by my father’s side, in the church-yard;
my boy was going to dare the dangers of the deep, with all his sins upon his
head; and my girl, my lovely, blooming girl, was going willfully to unite
herself to a fascinating, but deceitful man, who, I saw, would bring her to
poverty and disgrace. ’And this,’ said I, ’is having my own way. I was warned,
but I would not see, or correct the faults of my children; I brought them up
with no consistency; I refused to check their foibles, until they grew into
sins, and were past my ability to control. O that I had taken advice, that I had
attended to the law of God, rather than to my own way! O that I had taught them
to honor me in childhood! I should not now have to weep over their ingratitude,
and live to see their ruin.’ "I returned to my solitary abode—it was dark and
dreary. My daughter was pleasure-taking with some idle acquaintance; I kindled a
little fire to give something like cheerfulness to the dismal room—dismal, not
for lack of outward comforts, but from my own mental agony; and I sat ruminating
upon my desolate situation; and bitter and cutting was my self-reproach, for I
knew that having my own way had brought all this upon me. As I caught a glimpse
of myself in an old mirror which hung opposite, I could not help comparing it
with the bright, blooming, mirthful girl that used to appear—and the declining,
grief-worn widow I saw there. But my mind felt a keener agony when I recalled my
neglected duties and self-will. "Susan, in spite of me, married her wretched
admirer, who in less than three months treated her cruelly; and for two years I
used to sit, after I had sent away my little flock of children, brooding on her
distress, and on the hardships and dangers my boy was contending with. No letter
from him arrived, and I began to conclude that God had called him to his
dreadful bar of judgment. Susan, pining away from poverty and ill-treatment, was
led to her mother’s sad acknowledgment, that she had been wrong in having her
own way. But I saw her struggle against the tide of afflictions; I saw her, with
subdued temper, bow at the foot of the cross, and maintain before one, who met
her but to abuse and ill-treat her, a line of conduct befitting the principles
that now guided her—she lingered long in a decline, and I laid her at last
beside the two green hillocks in the church-yard. I had my own way with her in
childhood, and it ruined her happiness; but while I repented of having my own
way, I thanked God, who had overruled my misconduct, and had converted her by
his grace, and then taken her to himself. "But, ah! my poor boy—seven years
passed, and I neither saw nor heard from him; I had given up all hope of ever
meeting him again. I had just sent away my young charge one summer’s evening,
and was sitting down to my table, my Bible open before me, my coarse loaf and my
tea prepared—a slight-made figure appeared at the door. Hectic was the flush on
his cheek, and disease had set its mark upon him; but it was my boy—yes! I knew
my Charles—years of foreign imprisonment, hunger, poverty, disease itself, could
not obliterate that look by which I knew him. And while I wept at the tale of
his woes, and charged myself with his sorrows, by allowing him his own way, I
had to rejoice that he was taken from me, to be taught by a stranger’s tongue,
in a distant land—the error of his way, and the way of eternal life. "Eight
months he lay upon a sick bed, sighing over his past follies, yet looking to the
Lord Jesus Christ for mercy. He lies with my Susan, my father, and my mother, in
yon churchyard. One little corner still remains for me; and as the last ebbing
sand runs out, I would tell to all around, the wisdom and goodness of God, and
THE FOLLY OF MY OWN WAY!" In putting together these hints and observations for
the use of my children, it has been my desire ever to bear in my own mind, and
to impress it on theirs, that the only source of real, genuine, abiding
excellence of character, is true religion in the heart—a life of faith in the
Son of God; and that, wherever this genuine principle exists, it ought, and it
will, produce attention to whatever things are true, honest, just, pure, lovely,
and of good report, in which there is any virtue and any praise. "Now all has
been heard; here is the conclusion of the matter: Fear God and keep his
commandments, for this is the whole duty]of man. For God will bring every deed
into judgment, including every hidden thing, whether it is good or evil." "Those
things which you have both learned, and received, and heard, and seen," in the
truly consistent Christian, "do; and the God of peace shall be with you." "And
the peace of God, which passes all understanding, shall keep your hearts and
minds, through Christ Jesus."


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Source: https://sermonindex.net/books/abbot-gorham-d-the-family-at-home-t3/
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