91 Sermon Illustrations on Family

As a father will not willingly suffer his child to come into a place where he may be in danger, either by infection of the plague or otherwise; much more a Christian father is bound to keep his child, and the rest of his family, from wicked company, where their souls should be hurt and poisoned. Caudray

The fire of discord turns a house into a little bell, full of the tormenting passions, sorrow and anguish, disdain and despite, malice and envy, that blast the most flourishing families. W. Bates.

A house without a roof would scarcely be a more indifferent home than a family unsheltered by God's friendship, and the sense of being always rested in his providential care and guidance. Dr. Bushnell.

I have been in his family, said Christian of Talkative, and have observed him both at home and abroad; and I know what I say of him is the truth. His house is as empty of religion as the white of an egg is of savor. There is neither prayer nor sign of repentance for sin; yea, the brute in his kind serves God far better than he. He is the very stain, reproach, and shame of religion to all that know him: it can hardly have a good word in all that end of the town where he dwells, through him. Thus say the common people of him, — "A saint abroad, and a devil at home." His poor family find it so. He is such a churl! such a sailor at, and so unreasonable with, his servants, that they neither know how to do for or to speak to him. Men that have any dealings with him say it is better to deal with a Turk than with him; for fairer dealings they shall have at his hands. This Talkative, if it be possible, will go beyond them, defraud, beguile, and overreach them. Besides, he brings up his sons to follow his steps; and, if he finds in any of them a "foolish timorousness" (for so he calls the first appearance of tender conscience), he calls them fools and blockheads, and by no means will employ them in much, or speak to their commendation before others. For my part, I am of opinion that he has by his wicked life caused many to stumble and fall; and will be, if God prevents not, the ruin of many more. Bunyan.

Let God be first. Never be idle. The power of littles. I will try. Attend to minor morals. Be happy, and make happy. Never say, "We must do as others do."

The father of a small family, at the outbreak of the Rebellion, felt that he could not stay at home while his neighbors went to the war. The boys agreed to take care of the place, and help mother, while the father fought for the flag. Each did his part well. The boys' farming elicited the commendation of a passing gentleman, to whom one of them said, "Father's fighting, I'm digging, and mother's praying."—"Fighting, digging, and praying!" cried the gentleman. "That's the patriotism that will bring the country out of her distress."

A little boy, the child of irreligious parents, was visiting in a minister's family, entering heartily into all the religious exercises. One day, his mother found him praying, and said, "What are you doing?" He answered, "O mamma! we must pray all we can while we are in Madison; 'cause der's no God in Albany."

A child, speaking of his home to a friend, was asked, "Where is your home?" Looking with loving eyes at his mother, he replied, "Where mother is!"

I might ask, "What is it makes home?" and you would answer, "A mother's love." You know what it would be to spend one of your winter evenings in a chamber without a fire on the hearth or a carpet on the floor: even though the furniture were costly, and the friends congenial, nothing could impart the lacking comfort, or diffuse the wonted radiance. And, in this wintry world, a tender mother's love and a pious mother's care are the carpet on the floor and the blaze on the evening hearth. They make the home; and to life's latest moment they mingle in every picture of pre-eminent happiness. Dr. J. Hamilton.

A babe is a mother's anchor. She cannot swing far from her moorings. And yet a true mother never lives so little in the present as when by the side of the cradle. Her thoughts follow the imagined future of her child. That babe is the boldest of pilots, and guides her fearless thoughts down through scenes of coming years. The old ark never made such voyages as the cradle daily makes. Beecher.

Sir Walter Scott's mother was a superior woman, well educated, and a great lover of poetry and painting. Byron's mother was proud, ill-tempered, and violent. The mother of Napoleon Bonaparte was noted for her beauty and energy. Lord Bacon's mother was a woman of superior mind and deep piety. The mother of Nero was a murderess. The mother of Washington was pious, pure, and true. The mother of Patrick Henry was marked by her superior conversational powers. The mother of John Wesley was remarkable for her intelligence, piety, and executive ability, so that she has been called "the mother of Methodism." It will be observed, that, in each of these examples, the sons inherited the prominent traits of the mother.

If I seat myself upon my cushion, it is at her side; if I sing, it is to her ear; if I walk the walls or the meadows, my little hand is in my mother's, and my little feet keep company with hers; if I stand and listen to the piano, it is because my mother's fingers touch the keys; if I survey the wonders of creation, it is my mother who points out the object of my admiring attention; if a hundred cannon pronounce a national salute, I find myself clinging to her knees; when my heart bounds with its best joy, it is because, at the performance of some task or the recitation of some verses, I receive a present from her hand. There is no velvet so soft as a mother's lap, no rose so lovely as her smile, no path so flowery as that imprinted with her footsteps. Bp. Thomson.

Ancient history records, that 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 of this, received permission to leave the city before it was set on fire, 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 carrying their father, and the other their mother.

Valerius Maximus relates, that a woman of distinction having been condemned to be strangled, was delivered to the triumvir, who caused her to be carried to prison in order to be put to death. The gaoler who was ordered to execute her was struck with compunction, and could not resolve to kill her. He chose, however, to let her die with hunger; but meanwhile suffering her daughter to visit her in prison, taking care that she brought her nothing to eat. Many days passed over in this manner, when the gaoler at length, surprised that the prisoner lived so long without food, took means of secretly observing their interviews. He then dicovered that the affectionate daughter had all the while been nourishing her mother with her own milk. Amazed at so tender, and at the same time so ingenious an artifice, he related it to the triumvir, and the triumvir to the praetor, who thought the fact merited stating in the assembly of the people. This produced the happiest effects; the criminal was pardoned, and a decree passed that the mother and daughter should be maintained for the remainder of their lives, at the expense of the public; and that a temple, sacred to filial piety, should be erected near the prison.

In the year 1773, Peter Burrell, Esq. of Beckenham, in Kent, whose health was rapidly declining, was advised by his physicians to go to Spa for the recovery of his health. His daughters feared that those who had only motives entirely mercenary, would not pay him that attention which he might expect from those who, from duty and affection united, would feel the greatest pleasure in ministering to his ease and comfort; they, therefore, resolved to accompany him. They proved that it was not a spirit of dissipation and gayety that led them to Spa, for they were not to be seen in any of the gay and fashionable circles; they were never out of their father's company, and never stirred from home except to attend him, either to take the air or drink the waters; in a word, they lived a most recluse life in the midst of a town then the resort of the most illustrious and fashionable personages of Europe.

This exemplary attention to their father procured these three amiable sisters the admiration of all the English at Spa, and was the cause of their elevation to that rank in life, to which their merits gave them so just a title. They all were married to noblemen: one to the Earl of Beverly; another to the Duke of Hamilton, and afterwards to the Marquess of Exeter; and a third to the Duke of Northumberland. And it is justice to them to say, that they reflected honor on their rank, rather than derived any from it.

The warlike Agesilaus was, within the walls of his own house, one of the most tender and playful of men. He used to join with his children in all their innocent gambols, and was once discovered by a friend showing them how to ride upon a hobby-horse. When his friend expressed some surprise at beholding the great Agesilaus so employed, Wait," said the hero, "till you are yourself a father, and if you then blame me, I give you liberty to proclaim this act of mine to all the world."

A father who had a son in college, requested a minister who was going through the town where he was, to call on him and converse with him in reference to the salvation of his soul. The minister called, agreeable to the request of the father, and introduced the subject of religion. He alluded to the feelings and request of the father, who wished him by all means to attend first to the salvation of his soul. The young man replied, "Did my father send such word as that?" "He did," was the reply. "Then," said the young man, "My father is a dishonest man." "But why do you say he is dishonest?" said the minister. "Because," replied the student, "he has often advised me, in regard to the course he would have me pursue in life, how to gain the riches, honors, and pleasures of the world, but he is not the man that has ever manifested any interest in regard to the salvation of my soul, any more than if I had no soul!"

# GE, MORAL again to the governor, who charged him with obstinate rashness, in continuing disobedient to the imperial decrees; but he boldly replied, "My present behavior is not the effect of rashness, but proceeds from my love and fear of God, who made the world, and who will judge the living and the dead, whose commands I dare not transgress. I have nitherto done my duty to the emperors, and am always ready to comply with their just orders, according to the doctrine of our Lord Christ, who bids us give both to Cæsar and to God their due; but I am obliged to prefer heaven to earth, and to obey God rather than man." The governor, on hearing this speech, immediately passed sentence on him to be burnt, which was executed accordingly, and the martyr expired, singing praises to God in the midst of the flames.

A pious, tender father, asked his refractory son, one Sabbath morning, if he was going to attend meeting? The child answered, that he was not. "Why?' said his father, "I have a sore foot," was the tist ministers were at their studies, a church, whose members were violently prejudiced against colleges and college-learned ministers, had passed a vote that they would admit no one from the neighboring institution into their pulpit. Shortly after this they sent to a minister then residing near the institution, whom they did not know, but with whose preaching they supposed from information they should be pleased. The minister agreed to attend and preach for them, on the day named in their request. Circumstances, however, prevented his going in person; he therefore engaged a young ministering brother, who had nearly completed his studies at the institution of which he was a member, to go in his stead. This young brother was unknown to any of the church. He came to the place at the hour appointed; and, with a fluent and ready utterance, with a warm heart and fervent spirit, and with a well furnished mind, he delivered his Master's message. The members of the church, who supposed all this while that the preacher was the individual for whom they had sent, and who had never been in a literary institution, were delighted. Their hearts were opened. They pressed him to visit them again, to which he consented. In the meantime, they ascertained who their preacher was, that he was a member of the neighboring institution. But they had committed themselves; he had gained their hearts, and the approbation of their judgment. It was the end of their prejudice against learning in a minister. After this they were ready to admit and act on the principle, that learning cannot MAKE a minister, but that it can greatly increase his power of being useful.

## ON, RELIGIOUS.

answer. "But you shall ride and I will walk." The child being resolved not to go, made many objections, which the father answered in a similar way; until the son, no longer able to hide the opposition of his heart, broke out as follows:—"I will go, but I will not hear one word." He then went away in a passion. But God, who is mighty in wisdom, and seeth not as man seeth, had determined that he should hear. His sins were set in order before him, in such a manner, that he was unable to leave the place without assistance. He remained several days in great distress, and then found peace in the blood of Christ. He is now a preacher of the gospel which he so much despised. Those parents who think it will do no good to urge children to attend public worship, may derive from this anecdote a valuable lesson.

In Birmingham, England, once lived a family in 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 small sum added by some Christian friends, was all on which she had to subsist.

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 son was clever in his business, got forward in the world, and became possessed of considerable property. But he still refused to assist his mother, and even while holding offices of consideration and importance, left her to subsist on her allowance from the parish. This conduct of course was noticed; he was repeatedly spoken to upon the subject; and at length he ordered her name to be taken from 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 suffer such base ingratitude to prosper."

In a short time afterwards, the mother was removed to another world. The circumstances of the son at length began to change; repeated losses ensued, and finally he became a bankrupt, and was reduced to abject poverty.

Sons and daughters, do not forget this lesson.

Hannah Price, a poor girl, had been instructed in a Sunday school. The serious impressions made upon her mind were soon visible; and she showed that she was converted to God. Her father, though in his earlier years he had received a better education than the most respectable of the poor have usually obtained, had become the companion of the most profligate men in his native village, and, by degrees, the worst of them all. The alehouse, at night, received the earnings of the day; and if any part remained after the guilty revels of the week, it was spent on Sunday in the same haunt of vice. His wife never reproached him, and only endeavored to lure him from such society, and such practices, by the comforts of home. But his home was the scene of his greatest misery; for there he had time to reflect, and there he was surrounded by the wife and children whom he was daily injuring.

One Sunday evening, after drinking and gambling all the day, and having lost all the earnings of the week, he turned from his companions, and scarcely knowing why he did, took the road homewards. One of them called to him to return, entreated him to have one more game, and added,

"Why, you will, be sure to win it all back, you know." He stopped—"Why, if I could get it back," said he to himself.

"Come, come," said his companion, "one more game, only one."

"No," said Price; "I've lost all my money, and so I can't if I would." But at that moment it occurred to him, that all his quarter's rent, except what was to be made up out of his last week's work, had been put in a cupboard, in the kitchen at home; and that if he could get that, he should be sure to win back all he had lost. The money was to be paid the next day, and, hardened as he was, he trembled at what he was going to do, and was terrified lest his wife and children should see him.

He approached the house, then ventured to look in at the window, and perceiving no one, he entered the kitchen, and went hastily up to the cupboard. It was locked, and he felt a momentary relief in the thought that he could not get the money. But again he said to himself, I shall be sure to win; and he hastened softly up stairs to look for the key, thinking he knew where his wife had put it. As he passed the room in which the children slept, he thought he heard a faint noise, and, listening he heard several sobs, and then a voice. It was poor little Hannah, praying that her father might see the error of his ways, that God would change his heart, and make him a comfort to her mother, and to them all. Her sighs and tears seemed almost to impede her utterance; and when he heard her call him her "dear, dear father," and felt how ill he had deserved such a name, he could scarcely forbear groaning aloud, in the anguish of his feelings. He forgot the key, crept to his bed-room, and fell on his knees. He uttered not one word, but the language of the heart is audible in the ears of Mercy; and that evening, for the first time, it might be said of him, "Behold he prayeth."