BV4-5?!
.C 3T
SHORT SERMONS,
AND
%xu ®dts.
BY BISHOP CAPERS.
WITH
AN INTRODUCTORY NOTICE OF THE AUTHOR:
BY THOMAS 0. SUMMERS.
Naspaii, :
PUBLISHED BY E. STEVENSON & F. A. OWEN, AGENTS,
FOR THE METHODIST EPISCOPAL CHURCH, SOUTn.
1855.
Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1855, by
STEVENSON & OWEN, Agents,
In the Office of the Clerk of the District Court for the Middle District of
Tennessee.
g
STEREOTYPED AND PRINTED BY A. A. STITT,
SOUTHERN METHODIST PUBLISHING HOUSE, NASHVILLE, TENN.
Conftnfs.
PAGE
introduction, 5
parental kindness, 9
elisha and the young scoffers, 15
Joseph's coat of many colors, 25
hagar and ishmael, 32
the birth of cain, ... 40
cain and abel, 48
little clara, 60
anna singletary, 65
susan, the sunday-school child, 71
little frank, 77
william and edward, 83
the boy that would not be laughed out of
his prayers, 88
what children can know about religion, 95
children's song and prayer, 102
when jesus to the temple came, 104
nto&ttftifltt.
The following " Short Sermons and True Tales "
were written for the Sunday-school "Visitor, and ap¬
peared in the first and second volumes of that jour¬
nal, it being at that time under our editorial man¬
agement. The lamented and venerable author was
a great lover of children, and took a deep interest
in their spiritual welfare. This induced him to
write these beautiful sermons and tales, the latter
of which—except that entitled " Little Clara"—'re¬
fer to his own children, to whom he was devotedly
attached.
We intended to prefix to this volume an extended
notice of the life and character of Bishop Capers; but
as his biography is expected soon to appear, we shall
merely state that he was born in St. Thomas's Par¬
ish, S. C., Jan. 26, 1790. His father was an officer
in the revolutionary war, and a pious member of the
Methodist Episcopal Church. In 1808, William was
brought to the knowledge of God, by faith in Christ.
Having received a liberal education, at the South
Carolina College, he yielded to the call of God, and
1- (v)
Vi INTRODUCTION.
entered the ministry in 1809, in the South Carolina
Conference—married in 1814, and located at the
close, of that year. His wife dying, he reentered
the itinerant ministry in 1818, and was stationed in
Columbia and Savannah. In 1821 he went as mis¬
sionary to the Indians in "Western Georgia. In
1825 he went to Charleston, and while there edited
the "Wesleyan Journal," before it was merged in
the " Christian Advocate," at New-York. In 1835 he
filled the chair of the Evidences of Christianity in
Columbia College. In 1837 he became editor of the
Southern Christian Advocate, and in 1840 Mission¬
ary Secretary for the South. In 1844 he took a de¬
cided stand with the South in the separation of the
Church ; and in 1846 he was ordained Bishop at the
first General Conference of the M. E. Church, South,
and continued in the exercise of the functions of his
high office until his death.
This event occurred Jan. 29, 1855. He had just
finished his episcopal visitations of the Conferences,
and had returned to his home, at Anderson C. H.,
S. C., when he was suddenly attacked, at midnight,
with angina pectoris, and, after an illness of three
days, without a sigh or groan,
" His spirit, with a hound,
Left the encumbering clay:
His tent, at sunrise, on the ground
A darkened ruin lay."
INTRODUCTION. Vli
His precious remains were removed to Columbia,
and there interred, with impressive solemnities, con¬
ducted by Whitefoord Smith, D. D., and the Rev. N.
Talley. Funeral sermons were preached for him in
different sections of the country—one, in particular,
at the time of the meeting of the Bishops and Mis¬
sionary Board, at Nashville, April 15, 1855, by
Bishop Pierce. To this admirable sermon, which
has been published, we refer for a masterly portrait
of the Bishop ; and also to an eloquent, discriminat¬
ing, and faithful " Biographical Sketch," in the
Quarterly Review of the M. E. Church, South, April,
1855, from the pen of Br. Wigktman. A widow and
ten children mourn the removal of the venerable
man.
We shall only add that Bishop Capers was remark¬
able for his simplicity and godly sincerity—he was
one of the most popular preachers of the age, and
was less affected by his popularity than almost any
man we ever knew. " To lose sight of the Ego,"
says Dr. Wightman, "in the majesty of the Christ
whom he preached, was one of the proprieties of the
sacred desk from which he never departed. The
celebrated Harriet Martineau, when in the United
States, several years ago, expressed to a friend the
desire to hear him preach. To Mrs. Martin's in¬
quiry as to the time when he would deliver his next
sermon, he returned the following characteristic
Viii INTRODUCTION.
note: ' I expect to preach in the morning : a poor
stick for such a service. If Miss M. pleases, she
may come to hear me. She would do better, though,
would she simply come to hear the Lord's com¬
mands, not minding the mouth through which they
may have utterance.' Miss Martineau did go, and
was deeply impressed, as well as charmed, by the
sermon she heard." He was a devoted friend of the
missionary cause, especially to the missions among
the colored people of the South. He was ardently
attached to the Church, of which he was so distin¬
guished an ornament; and no offers—and tempting
ones were made—-could have any effect to allure
him from its pales. He was warm in his friendships,
disinterested in his charities, strong in faith, mighty
in prayer, and abundant in labors. We knew him
intimately, and loved him well. We doubt not this
little volume will be prized by many as a memento
of our departed Bishop-^-in view of this, as well as
its intrinsicwalue, it has been prepared by
Wfyt SEtitttn;.
Nashville, Tenn., May 16,1855.
SHORT SERMONS
AND
TRUE TALES.
fratal fimlmm,
" But ye fathers, provoke not your children to wrath."
—Eph. vi. 4.
1. Authority ought to be as entire with
respect to children as to servants, but mate¬
rially different in the forms of its manifesta¬
tion. ' To servants, the master owes good
will; but the father must love his children.
Towards servants, one should carry himself
as looking for good deeds to commend,'rather
than faults and negligences which he should
correct. Needless and unjust mortifications
always do harm. But towards children much
(9)
10 SHORT SERMONS.
more is requisite than belongs to the bearing
of mere good-will in a good-natured man to¬
wards his servants. There must be the evi¬
dence of affectionate interest; nay, more, of
confidence and love ; and without this, pa¬
rental authority loses its character, and be¬
comes irksome, if not hateful. For a parent
to bear himself towards his child as if he only
expected him to neglect his duty and do
wrong, is to blunt his sensibility, chill his
affections, cow his spirit, and make him
worse and worse by as much as he complains
of him. There is no worse tyranny than
that of parental authority thus abused. Ten¬
der is the law of love, and tender should be
its administration. Nature makes it so, and
so does religion demand it to be. Alas ! for
the child who feels towards his father as a
rated servant towards an unkind master.
2. If a child may not be happy in his re¬
lation to his parents, where else is there hap¬
piness for him ? If here the pulse of life
beats slow and feeble, where else might we
PARENTAL KINDNESS. 11
find it strong and active ? And if he have
not the stimulus of a father's cheering coun¬
tenance, or a mother's genial smile, what else
will supply the incentives necessary to a vir¬
tuous life and high endeavors ? Scolding,
fault-finding, and the rod harshly laid on,
never can do it. No one cane ever he dra¬
gooned into goodness or greatness. The will
must be gained in the first place: the affec¬
tions will follow nothing else; and these can¬
not be coerced.
3. "Provoke not your children to wrath."
Bad is the feeling of wrath, no matter what
may be its object; but in a child towards
father or mother, it is utter, unmitigated
evil: a contradiction of nature, a revulsion
that turns the current of life into the chan¬
nels of death, a poison in the blood, which
kills by the very aliment of life.
4. "Provoke not your children to wrath."
You do it as often as you suffer wrath in your¬
selves—scolding or whipping them more for
your own ill-temper than for their actual
12 SHORT SERMONS.
offences. Get ready before you correct your
child. Be calm, or let it alone. Bemember,
Satan casts out no devil. Be calm, be calm.
5. "Provoke not your children to wrath."
Be not only free from passion, but be not in
a hurry. Bide your time. Let your child
get ready by allowing him time for reflection;
and then, if punish him you must, do it effect¬
ually. John was thirteen year§ old at the
death of his father, without having suffered
correction by the rod; but not long after
that event he had to be corrected. His mo¬
ther was greatly grieved, but discharged her
duty well. She took him to a private place,
remonstrated with him, and prayed; but
John would not kneel with her. The correc¬
tion was repeated, and John was again asked
to kneel with her in prayer. He still was
sullen, and refused to kneel. A third prayer,
and a third application of the rod, subdued
his stubbornness, and he confessed his fault
with penitence. He has since been heard to
say that the correction then administered,
PARENTAL KINDNESS. 18
with the prayers and tears accompanying it,
had been the best lesson of his life, and of
incalculable service to him.
6. "Provoke not your children to wrath."
You do so by a continual fault-finding, so
that your child may hardly hope to please
you. ■ And most of all do you do so by in¬
flicting this unnatural mortification in the
presence of strangers. Alas ! that you should
thus wear out the spirit of your child, alien¬
ate him from you, and put him in the power
of the wicked one. What infatuation is so
blind, what so cruel as this ? Would you
wound your child, crush his spirit, and make
him vile, to recommend yourself? Who
might be so unnatural! No; not to recom¬
mend yourself, but to indulge a spirit of dis¬
satisfaction and complaint, which has got the
mastery of you, and is likely to make you
set your house on fire, or turn it into a dung¬
hill, do you thus offend against God and na¬
ture. For Heaven's sake, make a short end
of it. This one time make haste. Make
2
14 SHORT SERJMONS.
haste to correct yourself. Be convicted of
the evil of your course. Know that no good
can come of it. It is evil, and only evil: a
bitter root, the fruit whereof must be death
to you, and death to the children God has
given you. " Provoke not your children to
wrath," or you had as well not have given
them birth.
■<Ein|[8 anfc % |0ung total.
' 'And he went up from thence unto Bethel; and as he
was going up by the way, there came forth little
children out of the city and mocked him, and said
unto him, "Go up, thou bald head! go up, thou bald
head! And he turned back, and looked on them,
and cursed them in the name of the Lord. And
there came forth two she-bears out of the wood, and
tare forty and two children of them."—2 Kings ii.'
23, 24. *
1. The text presents a shocking instance
of profanity among little children, and a fear¬
ful example of its condign punishment. It
is always dangerous to children to he allowed
to spend a holiday, or if hut a part of it,
abroad in large companies. They are fond
to do so, particularly when they dwell in close
towns, and can have the freedom of the woods
for their pastimes. But it is a had practice,
and ought not to he permitted. It exposes
them to accidents, and tends to corrupt their
morals. Promiscuous crowds, whether of
(15)
16 SHORT SERMONS.
children or grown people, are seldom or never
led by the best among them. These gene¬
rally give way to the worst, who, for having
a tact of talcing first places, and being hold
and reckless, gain a controlling influence
over their companions. Hence, such as might
he shocked, at first, by an oath, or any thing
profane, are gradually brought to abuse their
consciences, till, in time, growing familiar
with sin, and intimate with sinners, they
themselves may lead as they have been led:
turned 'by little and little, and at last turn¬
ing others from whatever was good in them
to profanity and crime.
2. It was not because the little children of
Bethel were destitute of reverence towards
the aged, and shouted scornfully at a good
old man on account of his being bald, that
Elisha cursed them in the name of the Lord,
(that is, committed them, by God's autho¬
rity, to instant judgment,) and the bears de¬
voured them. This, to be sure, they were
guilty of; and if nothing more, it was, of
ELISHA AND THE SCOFFERS. 17
itself, sufficient to show that they were bad
children; for what, short of downright wiek-
edness, might be more offensive than for little
children to be rude and scornful to aged per¬
sons ! But those children were guilty of
much more than this: they mocked add per¬
secuted the Lord's prophet; and their shout¬
ing after him, "6ro up, thou bald head, go
up, thou bald head," was meant noonly in
derision of his person, but of his religion and
his God. They were children of parents who
worshipped Baal,' instead of the living God.
8. Judging by what seems most probable,
we conclude that the forty and two children
torn by the bears were not the most guilty
among those young blasphemers. That they
were the weakest and slowest of foot, is more
likely: perhaps they were the youngest, who,
for being so, may have been alike less guilty,
and less able to escape, than others. Gene¬
rally, where a common danger impends, it
falls on those who, by the circumstances of
the case, stand most exposed. There are
o*
18 SHORT SERMONS.
many exceptions, to show the agency of a,
special providence; but unless such a provi¬
dence prevent it, that which is most natural
is the rule with respect to all those events
which are called casualties. Such was the
case with respect to "those eighteen upon
whom the tower in Siloam fell, and slew
them." It was not because they were sin¬
ners more than other men, but simply that,
as men, they were liable to sudden death,
and happening to stand first in the way of a
falling tower, they were crushed by its fall.
In all such cases, the sufferers only meet a
common liability, which, without marking
them for good or evil among their fellows,
furnishes a lesson to survivors, of their dan¬
ger. A lesson, how often and awfully pro¬
nounced, in the terrors of a house on fire,
a boat blown up, a ship foundering at sea,
the lightning, the tornado, the earthquake !
4. And as with respect to the evil accidents
to which all men are liable, so too as regards
those special and* extraordinary strokes
ELISHA AND THE SCOFFERS. 19
against ski, which judicially befall particular
companies or communities, to mark Grod's
displeasure at some peculiar conventional
offence. As far as the offence exposing them
to judgment is common to them all, the judg¬
ment inflicted is general; and although the
stroke should fall on the heads of a few, its
purpose concerns them all in the same degree,
as all are involved in the cause which pro¬
duces it, and that cause is apparent. In the
case before us, two descriptions of persons
were involvedthe children mocking Elisha,
and their parents and others connected with
them, whose infidel idolatry had produced
this bitter fruit in the children brought up by
them. Wherever the children are worse than
other children, there, we may be sure, the
men will be found worse than other men; and
worse than their own children, forasmuch as
they are older than they, and guilty of hav¬
ing corrupted them. What, then, if the little
children of idolatrous Bethel were torn by
bears as they were sporting along the high-
20 SHORT SERMONS.
way, while their more guilty parents were at
home unhurt! And what jf, of that company
of children, the least guilty should.have been
the persons torn, while the most guilty made
their escape ? might we be stumbled at it, as
inconsistent with the equity and goodness of
God ? By no means. If the youngest and
least guilty in a common transgression might
be torn by the bears, what might not be done
to the oldest and worst • among them ? And
if it might be so to the little children, what
might not be inflicted on their parents, of
whom they had learned so early to sport with
blasphemy ? If, with respect to that herd of
children, none but the oldest and worst had
been torn by the bears, the youngest and
least guilty might have attributed their
escape to their innocence, or interpreted the
judgment as if in a common crime none but
ringleaders might expect punishment. And
so with regard to the parents and children,
as related to each other: if the prophet had
invoked judgment on the persons of the for-
BLISHA AND THE SCOFFERS. 21
mer, instead of calling the bea<rs out of the
wood to tear the latter, it should have been,
or seemed to have been, but a partial stroke,
warning only those who were of their own
first degree in sin, and overlooking all the
rest. But this might not he. It was not
the .purpose of God to teach the Bethelites,
old and young, that when their blasphemous
idolatry should have reached its highest pitch
of: turpitude in individuals, and not till then,
those individuals might apprehend the judg¬
ment of Heaven upon them, but that wrath
was ever impending with respect to them all.
They were in a way in which they might not
only look for death at the end of it, but along
its whole line of progress from beginning to
end. The bears' teeth tearing the tender
flesh of little children ! 0 ! what a warning
did it not proclaim to older sinners! for it
was God who did it, and the bears were his
ministers.
5. It is a great and sore calamity for child¬
ren to have parents who fear not God, and
22 SHORT SERMONS.
teach them not to fear and worship him ; but
it is destruction for them to have parents so
grossly wicked as to train them up in their
own evil ways. Such, we suppose, was the
case with the children of Bethel. And do
we pity them, as if their destruction were a
cruel one? Let us remember that sin in¬
volves, nay, necessitates fearful alternatives,
tremendous issues. Better was it for them
to be torn by the teeth of bears, than by the
worm that dieth not. Better a violent death
before yet they may have passed the possi¬
bility of salvation, than a life of wickedness,
to end in the fire that shall never be quenched,
" where their worm dieth not, and the fire is
not quenched." Yes, we know by the truth
of God that there is a hell—a death eternal,
and a way (or rather a thousand ways) lead¬
ing to it; and we know, by that same truth
of God, that there is a heaven—a life ever¬
lasting, and a way that leads thereto. And
if we know this, We cannot but know that it
is of little concern whether we die by one
ELISHA AND THE SCOFFERS. 23
form of death or another, in childhood or old
age, compared to the tremendous question,
whether we shall die to live again, or die the
death of soul and body in eternal fire. Let
us think of this as often as we read of the
little children mocking Elisha, and their being
torn in pieces, at his instance, by the savage
bears.
Let children learn—
1. To bear themselves respectfully towards
old persons.
2. To mock at nobody.
3. To reverence the ministers of religion,
particularly the aged.
4. To shun bad company, and flee the pre¬
sence of the wicked.
5. Never to mingle with crowds of child¬
ren without knowing their leaders. And if
at any time they should find themselves mixed
up with the profane, depart from them at any
cost.
6. To fear and watch against the first en¬
trances of sin, seeing that sin and death are
24 SHORT SERMONS.
so connected, that the indulgence of the one,
in any degree, exposes us ever to the other,
which may overtake us soon and suddenly,
and with dreadful terrors.
7. And let them know that, though they
survive others who die early, it may not be
better for them, but worse, unless they live
to purpose. Death delays that we may be
prepared to meet it; but if we prepare not,
the later its coming, the more terrible it must
be.
gjmpft'jj tat at Hang Cata.
"Now Israel loved Joseph more than all his children,
because he was the son of his old age; and he made
him a coat of many colors."—Gen. xsxvii. 3.
Children admire what is bright and beau¬
tiful, (as who does not ?) and it' comes of the
simplicity of their nature to love gay cloth¬
ing—a peacock's trail for a robe, or a butter¬
fly's wing for the pattern of a vest, for they
are beautiful, and the child has not yet learned
the lessons of taste. Mother must look to
that, and teach that what is becoming and
even charming in a bird or an insect, might
not be suitable for her little darling. But
mothers, (shall we say?) nay, fathers, are
sometimes weak; and so, dropping their duty
of teaching, they indulge a fondness which
confirms by seeming to adopt the untaught
fancy of their little ones. They are pleased
8 (25)
26 SHORT SERMONS.
that the child should be pleased, without
thinking further about it, or dreaming of the
consequences of their thoughtless gratifica¬
tion. It was so with Israel making his son
Joseph a coat of many colors. It was a
weakness and a folly, as illy becoming the
patriarch as the coat was the son of his old
age. Yet Israel meant no wrong more than
the ten thousand parents who may still be
doing the same thing; and as to Joseph, per¬
haps no one ever was so little injured, mor¬
ally, by a father's silly fondness. Joseph,
in his whole character, and all his life, was a
rare person; and, in view of his wonderful
fortune, was exceedingly pious. No one can
think, however, that his coat of many colors
was of any service to his piety; but rather
that he was pious to an eminent degree, by
the grace of God, in spite of every obstacle,
this among the rest. Let parents beware.
Tender love may not indulge in folly without
engendering sin. There are few Josephs.
The most precious treasure of a child, after
JOSEPH'S COAT. 27
the love of God, is the love of his parqnts;
and jet this best treasure of the little one's
heart maj involve a snare. The child who
lives not alone in a house, but has brothers
and sisters, needs, next to the love of father
and mother,' the love of brother and sister,
to make him happy. They must love him,
and he must know that they love him, or he
suffers a painful deprivation, breeding discon¬
tent, aversion, sadness, and mortification.
This necessity of nature, that brothers and
sisters should love one another, is indispens¬
able and universal. It is the foundation of
all peace and harmony in the house, and
without it, jealousy and envy become master-
passions, and strife and bickering prevail on
every side. Wise parents are aware of this,
and spare no pains to promote love among
their children; teaching them forbearance,
kindness, and charity, in all their intercourse,
and inducing them to feel a common interest
in each other, as born of the same blood and
constituting the same house. " Behold how
28 SHORT SERMONS.
good and how pleasant it is for brethren to
dwell together in unity. It is like the pre¬
cious ointment upon the head, that ran down
upon the beard, even Aaron's beard; that
went down to the skirts of his garments. As
the dew of Hermon, and as the dew that
descended upon the mountains of Zion; for
there the Lord commanded the blessing, even
life for evermore."
As the love of children for each other de¬
rives from their common relation to their pa¬
rents, and mutual interest in them and affec¬
tion for them, it must be necessary for the
parent to maintain such a bearing towards
every child, as shall assure them all of his
tender love, without room for distrust or sus¬
picion on the part of any. Especially should
he take care to avoid unjust preferences for
one over others, as being the greatest bane to
concord in his family, and tending directly
and strongly to unloose the bond which holds
them together in love, and to make them
jealous, envious, and revengeful, to the de-
Joseph's coat. 29
gree that they believe the favorite has sup¬
planted them. Simeon and Levi may have
occasioned their father ever so much trouble,
and Reuben may have sinned unnaturally
against him ; but not even they will consent
for their father not to love them, nor for him
to lavish his endearments all on Joseph. In
a large family, like that of Israel, and where
there are children by different mothers, what¬
ever reasons may exist for a preference of
one over others, and though occasions should
arise seeming to invite some token of a spe¬
cial tenderness, a prudent father will not for¬
get that his love is the right of all his child¬
ren ; and that it may not seem to be con¬
fined to one, without putting that one to a dis¬
advantage with the rest, as great and sore as
they may feel his partiality to be. Even any
excess with respect to one, is apt to be taken
by the rest as a proof that they have been
wronged out of that much; and though the
wrong be ever so plainly with the parent and
not with the child, the child will be made to
30 SHORT SERMONS.
answer for it by bis offended brothers, for the
reason that he only may be within their
reach. Alas ! poor human nature ! What
a sink of sin it must be, when, by spite and
prejudice, it is capable of turning the sweet
spirit of a brother's love into the gall and
poison of extreme malice. Parents, again,
beware; and if your weakness doats on a
particular child, have a care how you make
him "a coat of many colors," (how you dis¬
tinguish him from your other children,) lest
that which you intend as a token of love and
honor, should but curse him among his
brethren.
And what shall we say to the Josephs, the
favorite children, everywhere ? May they
wear the coat of many colors with a lifted
head, and strut among their brothers with
the step of pride ? Alas ! that coat is at best
but a spotted garment, and is not worth the
loss of the last mite of a brother's love, much
less the forfeiture of it all, and for aversion
and resentment to come in the place of it.
JOSEPH'S COAT. 31
Remember that Israel's partiality involved
Joseph in the greatest trouble with his breth¬
ren, without any fault of his own. He could
hardly have carried himself more becomingly
towards them, though they hated him. Be
warned, therefore, and, as you love yourself,
add nothing to the burden of this your great
disadvantage, that you are known to be the
favorite of your father or your mother. For
this very reason, cherish carefully the love
of your brothers and sisters. Never think
too highly of yourself, never seem to under¬
value them; but let your thoughts, your
looks, your words, your whole demeanor, be
as love would hav<3 them to be at all times.
Jiaflar anfo
"And Abraham rose up early in the morning, and took
bread, and a "bottle of water, and gave it unto Hagar
(putting it on her shoulder) and the child, and sent
her away; and she departed, and wandered in the
wilderness of Beer-sheba. And the water was spent
in the bottle, and she cast the child under one of the
shrubs. And she went, and sat down over against him,
a good way off, as it were a bow-shot; for she said.
Let me not see the death of the child. And she sat
over against him, and lifted up her voice, and wept.
And God heard the voice of the lad ; and the angel
of God called to Hagar out of heaven, and said unto
her, What aileth thee, Hagar? . Fear not; for God
hath heard the voice of the lad where he is."—Gen.
xxi. 14^17.
1. Before the Scriptures were given, it
pleased God to make known his ways to men
by the ministry of angels, miraculously. But
the wonder is not that an angel should have
been made visible for some purpose of mercy,
so much as that God, the High and Holy
One, should have concerned himself at all
about the sinner, man. Indeed, if a worm,
an atom, for having a soul in his body, might
(32)
HA GAR AND ISHMAEL. 83
engage the consideration of the Almighty,
it might seem a natural consequence for him
to he ministered unto by the holy angels.
Are they not all ministering spirits ? And
what should the form of their ministering
signify, whether miraculous or not, in compa¬
rison to the matter itself, the succor, afforded,
the benefit bestowed, life preserved, the sin¬
ner saved ? There is no wonder so great as
the fact involved in this most blessed truth,
that " God so loved the world, that he gave
his only-begotten Son, that whosoever be-
lieveth in him should not perish, but have
everlasting life." All the visits of angels
ever made from heaven to earth are insig¬
nificant in comparison to it. Nor can they
bear any comparison to the wonders of Pro¬
vidence, the unceasing vigilance of the all-
seeing eye, the unmeasured bountifulness of
the hand divine. So that we conclude that
the miracle of the angel rescuing Hagar and
Ishmael from death in the wilderness, cannot
claim a higher point of admiration than that
84 SHORT SERMONS.
of being a symbol of the providence of God,
which, without any visible sign, is most mys¬
teriously but effectually taking care of us at
all times and in all places. May we believe,
and be made better, by all God's goodness
to us.
2. It is natural, and it is right and Chris¬
tian, for us to sympathize with all who suffer,
be they good or bad. Any question as to
the character of the sufferer comes in as an
after-thought, and is proper for the regula¬
tion of our sympathy according to the dic¬
tates of reason and religion. A judge ought
not to favor a poor man in his cause, to make
it better than it is, because of his poverty;
nor should we suffer our sympathy to mislead
us, by giving to the character of its object
any benefit of the charity due to his con¬
dition. The condition of Hagar, at the time
the angel visited her, was such as to chal¬
lenge relief; but she was a reckless woman,
unfit for a place in Abraham's house, and the
angel could do nothing more for her than to
HAGAR AND ISHMAER. 35
rescue her from death, and leave her where
he found her, in the wilderness.
3. If it should be thought surprising that
an angel should he sent to such a person as
Hagar, to deliver her bj miracle, it may be
remembered that, faulty as she was, she still
had a soul to be saved; and, further, that she
was the mother of Ishmael, Abraham's son,
who was with her in her wretchedness. And
then let it be considered that the mystery of
God's love to man, and of his providence with
respect to the children of men, extends not
to the sanctified only, but to the unsanctified
and sinners also. "Fools, because of their
transgressions, and because of their iniqui¬
ties, are afflicted. Their soul abhorreth all
manner of meat, and they draw near to the
gates of death. Then they cry unto the Lord
in their trouble, and he saveth them out of
their distresses."
4. But there appears to be a special lesson
furnished us in the manner of the statement
made in the text, as to why Hagar was res-
36 SHORT SERMONS,
cued b y the angel. The statement is, that
she put the child under a shrub, and went a
little distance off and sat down; (for she said.
Let me not see the death of the child;) and
she lifted up her voice and wept; and God
heard the voice of the lad, and the angel of
God called to Hagar out of heaven, and said,
What aileth thee, Hagar ? fear not, for God
hath heard the voice of the lad, where he is.
All seems to have been done on the lad's ac¬
count, in answer to his voice, which God had
heard, and not at all for Hagar's sake, though
she partook of the benefit. It should seem
that, although she lifted up her voice and
wept, it was not regarded: it Was not that
which brought the angel down; but God
heard the voice of the lad where he lay under
the shrub, though the voice of the famishing
child may not have been loud enough to be
heard by his mother, nor distinct enough to
be mentioned in the text. Perhaps Hagar's
loud prying and weeping signified only that
she abandoned herself to despair, and not
HAGAR AID ISHMAEL. 37
that she prayed at all. Or her praying, if
she prayed, may have been so mixed up with
unbelief and murmuring, and probably with
hard feelings towards Sarah and Abraham,
as t-o prevent its being accepted as prayer.
But as to the child Ishmael, no such barrier
existed. His was a voice to be heard and
answered, though it required a miracle to
answer it;, and the angel of God called to
Hagar out of heaven, and God opened her
eyes, and she saw a well of water, and she.
went and filled the bottle with water, and
gave the lad drink. Well may mothers teach
their children to pray, since the prayer of
the child may prove the mother's salvation.
5. "Gfocl hath heard the voice of the lad
where he is." Unhappy lad! An outcast
from his father's house, wandering with his
mother in an unknown wilderness, without
protection, without friend or companion but
that mother only, without food, without even
sG much as a drink of water, what might
have added to his wretchedness! One thing
4
38 SHORT SERMONS.
only seemed barely possible beyond the ex¬
tremity of such destitution. Amidst it all,
he had still a mother's sympathy to soothe
him, and, with his head pillowed on her
bosom, he hardly might feel that he was ab¬
solutely miserable. But what does this ex¬
pression of the text, " Where he is" imply ?
It seems that, in giving herself up to despair,
his mother abandoned him also; and with¬
drawing the pillow irom his head, the last
earthly solace from his soul, she left him to
die alone, where she had cast him, under one
of the shrubs. A fainting, famishing child,
with only the shadow of a shrub to serve
him for father, mother, and friend, was ever
wretchedness more complete than his ? But
what of all that? God had not forsaken
him. He was not to perish; but, on the con¬
trary, his last extremity was to teach him, as
plainly as the angel pointed out to Hagar the
well of water, that as long as he should pray
and put his trust in God, he should be safe
and might be happy- The famishing lad
HA GAR AND ISHMAEL. 89
was, indeed, a mighty prince; and his exile
from his father's house was but his introduc¬
tion to a kingdom, his establishment as the
father of a numerous race, the founder of an
empire of which the very wilderness where he
suffered so extremely was a province already
in his possession. Let no one despair of life
who still can breathe; and much less distrust
the providence of God any who can pray.
"When my father and my mother forsake
me, then the Lord will take me up."
§irt| fli
"And Adam knew Eve his wife; and she conceived, and
. hare Cain, and said, I have gotten a man from the
Lord. And she again hare his brother Ahel. And
Abel was a keeper of sheep, but Cain waS a tiller of
the ground. And in process of time it came to pass,
that Cain brought of the fruit of the ground an offer¬
ing unto the Lord. And Abel, he also brought of the
firstlings of his flock, and of the fat thereof. And
the Lord had respect unto Abel, and to his offering.
But unto Cain, and to his offering, he had not re¬
spect. And Cain was very wroth, and his counte¬
nance fell. And the Lord said unto Cain, Why art
thou wroth ? and why is thy countenance fallen ? If
thou doest well, shalt thou not be accepted ? and if
thou doest not well, sin lieth at the door. And unto
thee shall be his desire, and thou shalt rule over
him. And Cain talked with Abel his brother; and
it came to pass, when they were in the field, that Cain
rose up against Abel his brother, and slew him."—
Gen. iv. 1-8.
1. What an event was tlie birth of the
first-born of mankind, and how full of hope
and exultation must it have been ! " I have
gotten a man from the Lord !" cried the en¬
raptured mother; and gotten a man from
the Lord ! shouted back the delighted father.
(40)
THE BIRTH OF CAIN. 41
What an hour must that have been to the
first lone pair, Adam and Eve ! The birth
of a child, all being well, is always an occa¬
sion of joy : the first pulse of young mother¬
hood is a gush of rapture ; and how full, and
strong, and bounding must that pulse have
been with her who was the first mother, on
the birth of her first child, the first ever born
of woman, and whose birth resolved the ques¬
tion as to how, if at all, there should be a
race of men to succeed the original pair.
2. "Well might Eve exclaim, "I have
gotten a man from the Lord," had she
spoken from the understanding of a philoso¬
pher, and not out of the gushing rapture of a
mother's heart. For who but "the Lord,"
who at first made man at maturity from the
dust of the ground, and made one of his ribs
a woman, (this very woman, who was now
become a mother,) who but that same Lord
might have given her a son by the mysteri¬
ous process then first proven ? "I will praise
thee; for I am fearfully and wonderfully
42 SHORT SERMONS.
made: marvellous are thy works; and that
my soul knowetk right well. My substance
was not hid from thee, when I was- made in
secret, and curiously wrought in the lowest
parts of the earth. Thine eyes did see my
substance, yet being unperfect; and in thy
book all my members were written, which in
continuance were fashioned, when as yet there
was none of them." Psalm cxxxix. 14-16.
3. Or was the exclamation of Eve an ac¬
knowledgment that, having desired increase,
she sought it of the Lord, who, in answer to
her prayer, had given her Cain? There are
some silly persons strongly averse from hav¬
ing children, and there are others passion¬
ately desirous of them. They may be either
praying or unpraying persons, uttering vehe¬
ment supplications without submission to the
will of God, or venting their passion in im¬
patient, fretful longings. All this is evil.
But we commend the example of Hannah;
and who can tell but that Eve prayed in a
like commendable spirit? We cannot say
THE BIRTH OF CAIN. 43
that she did not; but how different a person
was the son of Hannah from the son of Eve !
Without judging, we advise mothers that, to
pray wisely, one must pray piously; and the
first condition of a pious prayer is submission
to the will of God. The prayer, indeed, may
be answered, but the answer cannot be good,
if we pray with an idolatrous or a wilful
spirit, and not with filial' dependence on the
wisdom and goodness of God.
4. But suppose that Eve was ever so pious
in her prayers for a son, still we are reminded
that blessings properly sought for and well
received as to the first possession of them,
may turn into curses by their misuse or abuse
in after-times. And it is doubtless so with
respect to children. To have " gotten a man
from the Lord," in the person of a new-born
child, involves the responsibility of having
gotten a man for the Lord. God gives us
children, not to furnish us with playthings,
but for the increase of his kingdom. He
gives them to us, not as alienating them from
44 SHORT SERMONS.
himself, but as confirming his property in us,
his stewards and tenants, to whom they are
committed, to the end that occupying till he
comes, cultivating diligently what is com¬
mitted to our care, both we and our children
may be his in the recompenses of an endless
life. And shall all this be forfeited by our
neglect ? God forbid ! Or if it shall be so,
and God not be glorified in the bestowment
of these his most precious gifts to us, (our
children,) then, verily, that they should be¬
come a plague and break our hearts, should
be reckoned only as a beginning of our sor¬
rows, and a righteous retribution. What had
become of Eve's exultation at the birth of
Cain when he had killed his brother!
5. How much depends on parents! The
child of prayer needs to be nurtured with
prayer to mature age. And even then,
though our prayers be ever so frequent and
long-continued, what might come of them, if
left alone, without equal pains of Christian
teaching, discipline, and training ? 0 ! it is
THE BIRTH OF CAIN. 45
an unsuflerable thought that one's own dar¬
ling child should^ by one's own easy negli¬
gence, be lost 1 Lost, it may be, both to his
parents and to God! lost for the present life,
and lost for ever! How much depends on
parents—how much, how much !
6. Children, it is a fearful reflection which
this subject forces upon you. Solemn as the
judgment, awful as eternity, may it not be
lightly passed over. Did your parents re¬
joice at your birth ? They did; and a thou¬
sand times was their joy renewed in the days
of your prattling innocence., But son, daugh¬
ter, do they rejoice for you now I And how
much longer shall they rejoice ? Look to the
line of your young life, yesterday, to-day,
to-morrow, and whither does it tend—up¬
ward or downward ?: Do you grow wiser, in
a good sense, as you grow older ? Are you
more dutiful for knowing more of your duty ?
Do you cultivate right and religious prin¬
ciples ? Do you curb your passions ? Are
you especially mindful of what you owe your
46 SHORT SERMONS.
parents, your brothers and sisters, and all
who dwell with you? Do you pray? and
if you do, is it done with a strong sense of
want and dependence ? What but prayer,
or rather the grace of God in answer to
prayer, can keep you from sin, and from
" the wages of sin ?" Nor can any thing else
preserve you in the integrity and upright¬
ness of a Christian life. Shall the mother
who rejoiced at your birth ever have occa¬
sion to cry, "Wo worth the day!" for any
act of your life ? God forbid! And do you
forbid it by continual prayers and pains.
Say not there is no danger. The entrances
of sin are small and deceitful, like the
stealthy waters, which at first ask admis¬
sion for a single drop, and displace no more
than a grain of sand; but the mass pressing
after, the dike is displaced, a flood ensues,
and the fields which were fair as the garden
of the Lord become a stagnant lake, a place
for loathsome reptiles. You cannot tell the
end from the beginning: you cannot know
THE BIRTH OF CAIN. 47
how bad you may become by the growth of
sin admitted and indulged in its least par¬
ticulars.
7. But take a higher observation, and with
a fear of sinning content not yourselves with
an avoidance of crime only, but look aloft to
the height of a nobler virtue, To commit
no gross offence, is by far too low an aim for
your mother's son. Her joy ranged higher at
your birth than that, and still her hope takes
hold on what is higher. You are not only to
commit no crime, not to be mean nor wicked,
but to be virtuous and good. Nothing is too
high for you, if you will not suffer yourself
to rest below it. You may even take hold
on heaven by the help of God and a firm
purpose; and how much more may you fulfil
your mother's joy, and hope, and exultation 1
Cain' anir JM.
"And Adam knew Eve his wife ; and she conceived, and
bare Cain, and said, I have gotten a man from the
Lord. And she again bare his brother Abel. And
Abel was a keeper of sheep, but Cain was a tiller of
the ground. And in process of time it came to pass,
that Cain brought of the fruit of the ground an offer¬
ing unto the Lord. And Abel, he also brought of
the firstlings of his flock, and of the fat thereof.
And the Lord had respect unto Abel, and to h:s offer¬
ing ; but unto Cain, and to his offering, he had not
respect. And Cain was very wroth, and his counte¬
nance fell. And the Lord said unto Cain, Why art
thou wroth ? and why is thy countenance fallen? If
thou doest well, shalt thou not be accepted? and if
thou doest not well, sin lieth at the door. And unto
thee shall be his desire, and thou shalt rule over him.
And Cain talked with Abel his brother; and it came
to pass, when they were in the field, that Cain rose
up against Abel his brother, and slew him."—Gen.
iv. -1-8.
When there was hut one family in the
world, and in that family but one child, and
he had never seen another, nor, indeed, any
human being but his father and his mother,
nor had so much as conceived a thought that
there ever might be any other, what delight
(481
CAIN AND ABEL. 49
it must have given him to behold another
child, his brother ! Who might calculate the
interest of such an elder brother in the
younger ?—an interest that is compounded
of all that is precious in kindred and com¬
panionship, and alb that is exquisite in the
first gush of gratified affection.
Time passed with those first brothers as
with all others since, and the infant, Abel,
grew out of his mother's gvms into full com¬
panionship with Cain, a laughing, prattling,
sportive little boy. True, neither of them
may have had a kite to fly, nor a top to spin,
nor a hoop to trundle, nor marbles, nor an
India-rubber ball; but nature was alive in
them: they were little boys, and they had
their pastimes. Theirs was the freedom of
the wide-spread lawn, where Cain might play
the horse, and Abel ride him; theirs the
brushwood and the tall green grass for " hide
and seektheirs the lambs, and kids, and
calves; and for them the rabbits, hares, and
squirrels, and the pretty birds, may have
5
50 SHORT SERMONS.
been more gentle than they are for us. And
then the fruits and. flowers were theirs also:
not, perhaps, in fenced fields, but where they
grew at large in prairie copses, or along the
banks of rivulets, and all the sweeter for the
search to find-them. What might have sepa¬
rated between these brothers ? They were
as the whole world to each other, and to be
separate, involved to either of them absolute
solitude. Nature bound them with her
strongest cords to love each other, and their
circumstances coalesced with nature to sus¬
tain the bond.
But besides the ties of nature between
these her first children, and the additional
force of what we must consider the most fa¬
vorable circumstances, there was religion also
to preserve them in harmony and love. But
what is nature, and what are the circum¬
stances of life, since man is fallen off from
God ? And what is religion itself, unless it
be above nature, holding,no parley wTith: sin,
but reproving it in all its, deceitfulness, and
CAIN AND ABEL. 51
maintaining absolutely the blessed will of God.
Yes, we mark it with emphasis, that there
was a time when nature was free and all her¬
self, and when all her store for man was hus¬
banded in one house, which was constituted
of four individuals only, a father, a mother,
and two sons, and there was. murder among
them ! And we mark it with. still stronger
emphasis, that there was a time when there
was but one form of religion known to man¬
kind, one Church, having one name, one doc¬
trine, one mode of worship, and no more;
when the entire Church consisted of but one
congregation, and that was made up of a sin¬
gle family of four persons ; and there was
murder among them ! Alas for man! fallen
man ! Nature can furnish him with no anti¬
dote to sin, for what is nature but the heart
and' bosom which sin has infected ? The
Church, and the religion of the Church, as
consisting of holy services, cannot save him,
for that would be to confound the means with
the end, as if they were the same, and
52 SHORT SERMONS.
ascribe to the instrument the functions of the
hand which holds it. " Woe to the world
because of offencesand because of these
two offences in particular: that men, re¬
jecting "the righteousness of faith," deify
nature in the name of philosophy; and that
men, in the name of religion, make an idol
of the Church.
If we should be asked the cause of that
first horrid murder, what could possibly have
moved Cain to commit it ? we should answer
from the Scriptures, " Because his own works
were evil, and his brother's righteous." And
if asked further, what would have made him
so wicked ? our answer should be, that " The
heart is deceitful above all things, and des¬
perately wicked;" and " the Devil, as a roar¬
ing lion, walketh about seeking whom he may
devour." But if we should be asked still fur¬
ther, by what means the deceitfulness of the
heart, or the malice of the Devil, or both to¬
gether, might have wrought so utter a ruin,
as alike to outrage nature and blaspheme
CAIN AND ABEL. 53
religion ? we would say that, in the case of
Cain, we cannot tell, not knowing his secret
history; but that it is possible for an inter¬
esting child to grow up to become a vile
crihiinal, is proved by the records of every
court in Christendom. The deceitfulness and
wickedness of the heart implies both a prone-
ness to sin, and to persuade ourselves falsely
with respect to its turpitude: eating what is
forbidden, and 'wiping our mo"uths and say¬
ing we have done no wickedness. This is
the principle of every transgression, and it is
the same at the beginning and ending of
every vicious course. He who persuades him¬
self to be easy under a small offence, as if it
needed no repentance, is on the high road to
the perpetration of just any crime without
compunction. And yet men make what they
call conscience' their supreme law ; and espe¬
cially do those do so who have most perverted
conscience, and in whom it has become as the
sight of the blind. " There is a way which
seemeth right unto a man, but the end there-
5*
54 SHORT SERMONS.
of are the ways of death." "If the light
that is in thee be darkness, how great is that
darkness !"
The text mentions the performance of re¬
ligious services by Cain and Abel, and states
that God had respect to Abel and to his offer¬
ing, but that to Cain and his offering he had
not respect; and that Cain was very wroth,
and his countenance fell. We suppose that,
judging the "Divine administration to have
been partial in rejecting his offering, which,
for its gross value in corn and oil, may have
been worth as much as that of Abel, he was
angry even against God. But we cannot
suppose that from the beginning it was Cain's
belief that God was to be served as if he
were a man, with fruits of the earth by quan¬
tity, and that the value of the service was to
be reckoned by bushels and quarts at the
current price; for he had been taught the
same lessons as Abel, who worshipped spiritu¬
ally, in faith, from his heart, and therefore
was accepted. Nevertheless, it was so of
CAIN AND ABEL. 55
these two brothers, that, under the same
teaching, one received the truth in the love
of it, while the other, not liking to entertain
it, and jet unwilling to appear a reprobate,
set himself to pervert it bj putting the for¬
mal act of sacrifice for the whole dutj of de¬
votion, satisfying his conscience with a hand¬
ful of corn on the altar, whilst his heart was
withdrawn from God, and given to the world
and sin. And so, alas! it may still be. I
have known a man who, from infancy to the
fiftieth year of his age, had maintained the
habit of repeating a form of prayer on going
to bed:at night. It was a habit merely, for
he was an utter worldling, avaricious and pro¬
fane ; and yet he made so much of it as to
hope for salvation on account of it, saying,
"All men have their faults, and I have mine:
God is merciful, and I ask daily for forgive¬
ness:" thus perverting the pains of a pious
mother, and making a most commendable
Christian practice an instrument of death to
his soul. His form of prayer was but as the
56 SHORT SEEMMS.
sacrifice of Cain, while he put it in place of
repentance and a new life. It was not Chris¬
tian prayer, but a presumptuous trespass ra¬
ther- We cannot tell how early such a cheat
. may be put upon the soul, nor speeify its be¬
ginnings, but we can say that the least allow¬
ance of sin, in its least noticeable offences,
may prove the germ of an utter viciousness,
and grow to the height of the boldest trans¬
gression, spoiling the conscience, hardening
the heart, and corrupting the man, till he
shall curse, the earth and blaspheme Heaven.
It was so with Cain.
The worship of God, and especially prayer,
is the visible remedy for sin. But how is it
so ? Does it regard sin as a superficial thing,
and prayer and worship a mere office ? And
shall we pray as we wash our haijds, looking
only to the surface ? As well might the re¬
medy for some mortal sickness be applied to
the skin, and not be taken into the stomach.
" If I wash myself with snow-water, and
make my hands never so clean, yet shalt thou
CAIN AND ABEL. 57
plunge me in the ditch, and mine own clothes
shall abhor me." Sin is not a surface mat¬
ter: the heart is its great laboratory and
central seat; and that which would cure it
must take hold on the heart. And can a
man's own breath purify his heart ? Can any
but the Spirit of God do this ? If we pray,
and the heart feels it not, the prayer is lost;
for what is the worth of the prayer which is
a voice only? Cain might have uttered it,
and no doubt he did. But if, when we pray,
the heart intends it, and our words are felt,
and we are humbled and made more urgent
in our supplications; and if our urgency sub¬
sides only in the apprehension of the grace
of God in the sacrifice of the cross, giving us
peace and assurance by the blood of Christ,
then is our, prayer effectual.
We do not suppose that Cain's error lay
exclusively in the matter of his sacrifice, for
the fruits of the earth may have been as pro¬
per offerings in their place as the lambs of.
the flock; but 11 his deeds were evil:" he was
58 SHORT SEE MO if S .
a wicked man: his heart went not with his
hand to the altar of Gad, and yet he pre¬
sumed to claim acceptance on. the ground
that his sacrifice deserved it. Nor do we
suppose that any valid objection lies against
the use of a form of prayer at stated timess,
by children and other inexperienced persons;
but we Suppose, nay, we are confident, that
whatever the office maybe which we perform
as deserving any thing of God, it - is sinful
thus to perform it. " Nor would we intimate
that those are more in danger of this-species
of impiety who use a form of prayer than
others who do not. We do not think so.
Self-righteousness is not produced by this
form-or that, by one or another mode of wor¬
ship, but springs spontaneously from man's
aversion from the Cross—the, blindness and
perverseness of his depravity. We are in
danger of it with or without a form of prayer—
in this Church or in that; insomuch that the
Antinomian himself may be convicted of it
in his estimate of the value of doing nothing.
CAIN AND ABEL. 59
We insist that little children shall be taught
to pray. From two years old and upwards,
let them kneel before their Maker. Let
their first thoughts in the morning and last
in the evening be directed to him; and fur¬
nish them with words that may express those
thoughts in prayer. And we insist, with equal
earnestness, that they he constantly guarded
against the error ofrCpin. Mothers,, mothers,
neglect not this. Tell them of the love of
Jesus, the sacrifice of the cross. Suit your
instructions to their ages, choosing rather to
he in advance of them than behind them ; and
let them know betimes that prayer, and qll
Christian duty, is appointed as a means of
our coming to Cod by Christ for pardon and
salvation, and not to be used, as the tools of
the men of Babel, to build for ourselves a
tower, whose top may reach to heaven.
filth Clara.
How lovely it is for little children (or,
indeed, big ones either) to obey their pa¬
rents. Not barely to do what they are made
to do, and just because they cannot help it;
but to mind what their parents say, and do it
readily and gracefully, as if they loved to do
it. They may not be deceitful for the sak6
of praise, and pretend that they would not
like to do what they really wish; but they
may show sincerely that they would rather
please their parents than be pleased them¬
selves. And they may do this, too, while
they are very young. I am sure they can,
for I have witnessed it; and a beautiful spec¬
tacle it is, this easy, ready yielding of a
child's will to the will of papa or mamma.
(COi
LITTLE CLARA. "1
Nothing else makes them so happy: nothing
so precious to their friends; and nothing else
more pleasing to the Lord.
I would not say a word aboilt some child¬
ren I have known, who, when told to do a
thing they did not like, would answer short,
"I won't now," or, "I don't want to;" or,
if they did it at all, would hold down their
head&, and go muttering as if they were mad.
I would not choose for the little readers of
the Visitor to know any thing about such
children.
But little Clara is the child for me; and I
want all little children to be just like little
Clara. It was only a day or two ago that I
went to her house, to see the family, and a
sick minister who was there: it happened
that I found them altogether in the minister's
chamber: Dr. S., Mrs. S., Sally, (six years
old,) Clara, (three years old,) and the baby.
While the grown people were in conversation,
Sally and Clara were playing softly with
6
62 TRUE TALES.
their little- brother, as if to keep him quiet;
and they did it so nicely.
But, after awhile, Mrs. S. and the children
went into another room. Then, presently,
Clara came back by herself, and silently took
a seat, as if she wanted to hear what we were
talking about. She looked very sweetly, and
I, being charmed with her gentle manner,
beckoned her to me. She was presently on
my knee, and told me softly that she had a
China doll on the mantelpiece, and it was
very pretty—she would like to handle it. It
was given her, of course, and she seemed de¬
lighted with it.
Our attention was then turned to Clara's
innocent excitement with her doll; for, al¬
though she was quiet, she looked very happy,
and seemed to think her China doll the
prettiest doll that ever was. But all at once
she slipped off my knee, and was going out
of the room with it. She had thought of
her mother, and sister, and little brother, in
LITTLE CLAfiA. 63
the other room, and was going to let them
see the doll too. Bat a word from her father
stopped her as suddenly as she had started.
" I would rather you would not take that out
of the room, my daughter," said he; and
Clara was instantly at a stand, her sweet,
laughing bright eyes looking into his, as if
to ask, "Why might 'I not, papa?" "I
would rather you would no.t take it out of the
room, my daughter," he repeated, in a gentle
tone; and Clara handed him the doll. " What
would you have me do with it ?" rejoined her
father. And eager as she had been to carry
it to her sister and brother, what would
you think was hpr reply? Why, she said
what only a dear, sweet child could have
said, and said it without so much as looking
sorry : " Please, papa, put it on the mantel¬
piece."
Long may little Clara keep her doll; and
I wish that the very next time her papa,
whom she makes so happy, goes into King
street, he would buy her an India-rubber
64 TRUE TALES.
doll,* as pretty as you please, which she may
carry about just as she likes, without fear of
breaking it, as she might have broken that
China one.
* Little Clara received an India-rubber doll from
some one who read this article in the Visitor—the do¬
nor's name was not given.—Editor.
&rm SinjjUiarji.
what makes us sinners?
Anna Singletary was what we call a very
good child. I knew her very well, and never
knew any evil of her. Her parents loved
her very much, and she loved them, in re¬
turn, most affectionately. "She was their old¬
est child, and the sweetness of her temper,
and her fond affection for her brothers and
sisters, contributed no little to the happiness
of the family.
Anna was always ready for any little ser¬
vice in her power, to help her mamma, or to
please the younger children ; and she had so
quick a sense of duty, that nothing seemed
to give her so much pleasure as to render
these little services. She seemed to do it as
from her heart, whatever it might be that she
6* (65)
66 TRUE TALES,
was wanted to do. And then, if any of the
little ones was ever fretful, and especially if
sick, she would put herself to any pains in
her power, and give up any plaything she
might have, to soothe and comfort it. It was
delightful to see how sweetly she carried her¬
self towards all the family. Even the ser¬
vants all loved Miss Anna, and seemed to
think no other little girl half so good. And
you may he sure that so good a child at home
would be good at school also. And so she
was. All her playmates loved her, because
she was so good, and gentle. Both at the
Sunday-school and the week-day school she
w;as a general favorite.
Anna had been taught her prayers as soon
as she could speak, and never omitted them
on going to bed at night, or rising in the
morning. Nor was she remiss about going
to church, but was always ready to accom¬
pany her mother, either to church or to the
class-meeting. Her father was a preacher,
and' the preachers were often at his house.
ANNA SINGLETARY. 67
Anna called them all uncle, as the brothers
of her father, and seemed much attached to
them, as, indeed, they also were to her.
Years passed off in this way, till little Anna
had got to be twelve years old, and could
hardly be called little Anna any longer ; for
she was a pretty large girl, and everybody
thought her a very good girl. But was she
a Christian ? Was she not a sinner ? You
may be sure she had been fully taught by her
parents, and other pious persons, all that they
could teach her to make her a Christian.
And then she always seemed so willing to
be taught, and was so loving and obedient to
her parents, and affectionate to her brothers,
and sisters, and friends, and amiable and kind
to everybody, that one might have thought
she surely must be a Christian. But how
was it with her in reality ? I will tell you
from herself.
When she was just twelve years old, she
went with her father and mother, and other
friends, to a camp-meeting. She had been
68 TRUE TALES.
accustomed to attend such meetings all her
life, and had been pleased to do so; but had
never appeared to be much impressed at any
time with what she heard. And so, at this
meeting, several days passed off as at former
times, without her seeming to feel any con¬
cern about her soul. Indeed, she told me
afterwards that she had no fear about her¬
self, because she hoped she was not bad;
and as she always said her prayers, and the
Lord loved her father and mother, who prayed
for her, and other Christian friends who
prayed for her, she thought she would be
saved.
But on the evening of the third day of the
meeting, when, after the sermon, mourners
were asked to come forward to be prayed for,
Anna was among the first that came, and,
bowing herself with her face upon the ground,
she screamed piteously, as if she had seen the
pit already open to receive her. There were
a great many'others who came to be prayed
for with her, but not any who seemed to be
ANNA SINGLETARY. 69
half so much distressed as she was. Many
prayers were offered and much sympathy was
felt for her, whilst, for a long time, she con¬
tinued thus crying, as in agony, for mercy,
until late in the night, when her father and
mother removed her to their tent.
There, after she had become a little com¬
posed, her father asked her why she had been
in so much agony, and whether it was on ac¬
count of any particular sin which she remem¬
bered. "0 pa," she said, "it is no particu¬
lar sin, but it is all the sins in one. Only
think," she continued, "how good God has
been to me, and Christ died for me, and I
never in my life did any thing just to please
my God and Saviour. All I ever did was
only to please you and ma." And she
screamed again, as if a sword were piercing
her to the heart.
This was many years ago. Anna found
pardon and peace through the blood of Jesus.
She has now been for some time a woman,
and the mother of several children; and has
70 TRUE TALES.
been a consistent Christian, doing good, not
to please her friends only, hut out of love to
God, and to please Him who is her God and
Saviour*
Question. What was it that made Anna
scream so at the camp-meeting ?
It was the conviction she felt that she was
a sinner, guilty and condemned before God*
Question. But what made her a sinner,
and to feel so very guilty as a sinner, when
she had always been so amiable and good a
child ?
It was because she had not lived to love
and please God, though she had been ever so
eareful to please her parents. Whatever we
do, however we' live, we are still sinners,
guilty sinners, unless we live to please God.
Bmnt %
[A True Story for little children six years old.]
A long time ago, when I was young, I had
a little daughter named Susan. As she was
my own child, I 'must say nothing about how
pretty, and how sweet, and how good she
was; but I have a story to tell about her,
and when you have heard it, you may guess
how good she was. And you must not think
that, because I call it a story, it is not the
truth. I never tell stories that are not true.
But when I know something that pleases me,
and it is true, then I tell it, as nearly as I
can, just as it happened.
What I said before, about Glara and Anna,
was exactly true; and this that I am going
to tell you now about Susan, is just as true
as any thing can be. Still, I know that there
are a great many made stories passed off for
(71)
72 TRUE TALES.
the truth; and some of them look like they
might be true, though they are not; so that
I should not wonder if the stories I tell
should be thought to he only made stories
like the rest. Hear me, then, little children,
and believe me.
Little Susan was just six years and six
months old when she was taken with a very
bad fever. It was the yellow fever, which is
so very bad sometimes in our Southern cities.
And it was very bad that year in Charleston,
where we lived, though it does not often come
there. And poor little Susan lay very, very
sick for a long time, so that we feared she
was going to die. But she still remembered
her prayers, morning and evening ; and when
she saw by the light that morning was come,
and when she thought at night that it was
time to go to bed, you might see her thin
pale lips, moving as she said her prayers in
her heart-to the Lord-. For though her lips
moved, she said nothing you could hear, she
was so very weak ; but she knew that God
SUSAN. 7o
would hear her, and that was enough. This
is the first thing that I wished to tell you
about little Susan: how she: said her prayers
whe£ she was so. sick and weak that she could
not kneel down, nor so much as turn herself
in bed. ' And I tell you of it that you may
do so too, if it should please your Heavenly
Father to make you sick.
And now let me tell you more about little
Susan. Some time before she got sick, she
saw a wax-doll in a shop-window in King
Street, which she thought the prettiest that
could be, and wanted very much to buy it.
It was so very, very pretty, and she thought
it looked so funny to see it shut its eyes as
she might pull a little piece of wire at its feet.
The price of it was two dollars; and I dare
say that if she had had two dollars, she would
have bought it before she could have thought
how many Sunday-school books she might
buy with it, or how useful, it might be if
she gave it to the poor But she could
not buy the doll just then; and shortly after-
7
74 TRUE TALES.
wards she was taken with that very bad
fever.
Poor child! she suffered very much, and
was obliged to take a great deal of medicine,
which seemed to her almost as bad as the
fever itself. I felt very sorry for her, and
brought two silver dollars, which I put in her
hand, telling her that when she got well she
should give them for the doll. She still
thought of the doll, and, siok as she was, it
made her look happy to have the two dollars.
She kept them in her bed some time, and
then asked her mamma to put them by for
her.
Now, yM must know that little Susan had
a mauma whom she loved very much; for
her mauma had been very kind to her while
she nursed her. And she, too, had been
sick, but was better, and was able do be out
again, while her little mistress lay at the point
of death. And on a damp day,, as I saw her
in the yard with a pair of worn-out shoes on,
which exposed her to taking cold, I told her
SITS AX. 75
how much hurt she might get by it, and to
put on better shoes. I did not think that
Susan heard me; or if she did, that she
might notice what I said. But she did hear
me, and asked her mamma to give her mau¬
ma one of her dollars.^ " 0, no, my dear,"
said her mamma; " you know papa gave you
those two dollars to buy the wax-doll with."
"Yes, ma'am," answered the little Susan, "I
remember that; but I would rather give one
of the dollars to mauma to buy her shoes."
"Your mauma has good shoes, my dear,"
replied her mamma ; " or if she has not, they
shall be bought for her without giving your
money to buy them. You must keep that to
buy your pretty wax-doll." " Please ma'am,"
said little Susan once more, " I would rather
give it to mauma, for my last Sunday-school
lesson was in the twenty-fifth chapter of St.
Matthew, about how, when the King comes,
he shall say to them on his right hand, 1 I
Avas naked, and you clothed me.' And I will
give my dollar to mauma for her to buy shoes,
76 TEUE TALES.
and when the King comes, he will saj so to
me, and that will he better than & wax-doll,
mamma."
The very same dollar was given for a pair
of shoes for hej* maxima; but I took care
that she should not lose her wax-doll on
that account.
fittU Irani
[For children from three years old and upward.]
I will tell you a story about little Frank;
and please remember that my stories are true
stories, and not made up out of nothing.
When little Frank was only seventeen
months old, as his sister was saying her
prayers at their mother's knee one morning,
and nobody thinking of him, as if he might
say prayers too, the little fellow, who could
run about a little, but was not able to speak
plain, went softly up, and kneeled down by
the side of his sister, and put his little hands
together as he saw her do, and looked up into
his mamma's face, as if to say, " Please ma,
let me say prayers too." Well: that kneel¬
ing down quietly, and putting his hands to¬
gether, and bowing his1 face to them, served
7* (77)
78 EEUE TALES.
for little Frank's prayers. And after that,
whenever his sister said her prayers, night
and morning, their mamma would call Frank,
and he would come and kneel down, with his
little hands folded on his mamma's knee, and
his face on his hands, for his prayers.
But after a "while Frank could speak plain
enough to repeat' a little prayer; and then,
at night, when he kneeled down, and had his
face on his hands, his mamma would repeat a
little prayer for him, and he would say it after
her. I dare say it was the very same prayer
that your mammas first taught you. It was
in these words:
" This night I lay me down to sleep,
I pray the Lord my soul to keep:
If I should die before I wake,
I pray the Lord my soul to take."
In the morning his prayer was:
"I pray the Lord, who gives me sleep,
To give what else I need awake:
My body and my soul to keep,
And make me good, for Jesus' sake."
LITTLE FRANK. 79
And night and morning there was added
to these little prayers words like these : "O
Lord I bless my papa and mamma, and my
brothers and sisters : bless my friends and re¬
lations : bless all good people; and make me
a good child, for Christ's sake. Amen."
And now little Frank was just three years
old, and one night he happened to fall asleep
on the carpet, so soundly, that he was un¬
dressed and put. to bed without waking; so
that he did not say his prayers before he
Went to bed. He slept with his mamma that
night, and long after she had been in bed,
and was asleep, he awoke her, calling, " Ma,
ma," and begged her to get up and hear him
say his prayers. Half waking, his mamma
told him to turn over on his face and say his
prayers in bed. " No, ma," said little Frank,
" that isn't the way. Please get up and hear
me say my prayers good. I must say them
good, for there is a pretty lady here that
says I must not go to sleep till I say my
prayers." At this his mamma got wide
80 TRUE TAtES.
awake, and they got out of bed, and sbe
heard him say his prayers, kneeling at her
knee, as he wished to do. And then little
Frank got back to bed, and went to sleep.
I suppose that he had had a pleasant
dream, and dreamt what he told his mamma
about the pretty lady, who seemed to have
come to the bedside to make him say his
prayers. It was only a dream, I dare
say: But I will tell you what I haye thought
about it. I cannot say that it was an angel
that gave him that dream, to make him say
his prayers; but I have thought that if it was
an angel, it was worth the angel's trouble to
do it. And I will tell you why I have thought
so.
In the first place, then, the Scriptures
teach us of the holy angels, that they are
" all ministering spirits, sent forth to minister
for them who shall, be heirs of salvation."
And no one knows better than the angels do,
how sweet it is, and pleasing to the Lord, for
little children to pray; and how good it is
LITTLE FRANK. 81
for them to do so. When did you ever know
a right sweet, good phild, who did not say his
prayers ? And I am sure you know, in your¬
selves, that it is good for you to pray, and
that that is the way for you to get good. You
always feel better for saying your prayers ;
and children who do not say their prayers,
never can be so good and happy as those
are who say them, and who mean, in their
hearts, the words which they speak to the
Lord. And if the good angels do any thing
at all for us, what might they do better for
us, and that might please them better, than
to put it into our minds to pray ?
Yes, my dear children, I dare say that
the angels think it not beneath their pains
to wait on little children, and help them to
have good thoughts, and to do as the Lord
would have them do. And when you have
good thoughts, and want to be good and to
do good, it may be that some good angel is
with you, helping you, from the Lord, to be¬
come an heir of salvation. Or it may be
82 TRUE TALE-S.
even more than that; for it may be the Holy
Spirit himself, drawing your young heart to
the blessed Saviour. 0! blessed Saviour,
who so graciously took the little children up
in his arms, and laid his hands upon them,
and blessed them!
Milium imfo ttrarfr.
something- about politics.
"Well, my little son," said a respectable
shopkeeper in King street to a little boy who
had accompanied a trusty servant to his shop,
" Well, my little son, what are your politics ?
Are you a Union man, or a Nullifier ?".
I£ the question had been asked by a boy
like himself, William, (for that was the little
boy's name,) though but seven years old,
would have answered it instantly; bht, asked
by the shopkeeper, he was silent, jand only
looked at him with an expression of surprise,
as if to signify that it was none of his busi¬
ness what party he belonged to. The ser¬
vant, however, answered for him, that he was
a Union man. " That is clever of you," said
the shopkeeper: "I know that such a smart
(83)
84 TRUE TALES.
little fellow as you are must be a Union man,
and here is a four pence for you."
But if William was offended at being asked
bis politics by tbe shopkeeper, much more
did it offend bim to be offered money on tbat
account; and so, throwing it on tbe counter,
be said angrily, "You have told two stories:
I am not your son; you did not -know tbat I
was smart, nor tbat I was a Union man; and
you would give me money to make me a Union
man, whether I will or no. But I won't have
your money, and I won't be a Union man
any longer. I am a red-hot NuUifier." And
be returned home exceeding angry with tbe
shopkeeper, who, he insisted, bad attempted
to bribe bim with a fourpence to be a Union
man. ,
This is an anecdote of a long time ago,
when politics ran very high in Charleston,
and you might have seen the smallest boys
disputing about Nullification and the Union,
as if they had been old men. William acted
swell in the matter of the money, though he
WILLIAM AND EDWARD. 85
judged hardly of the shopkeeper's motives;
for children should take care whom they put
themselves under obligations to, and should
take money of none but their near friends.
The shopkeeper could not have cared about
his being a Union man, but meant to treat it
as a joke. And perhaps some of my little
readers will think that the joke does not
apply to little children only; but that some
men, who are as insignificant as little child¬
ren, . might be found in this party or that,
Union man or Nullifier, Whig or Democrat;
and that thei? blustering about politics
amounts to no more than a joke.
When I hear ignorant men talking this
way, it reminds me of my little friend, Ed¬
ward ; and I cannot help thinking that they
have an idea of something like the difference
between fat pigs and polecats. I was at a
friend's house a great way off in the country,
when I met with little Edward. He was a
very pleasant little fellow, about six years
old, and we soon got to be quite familiar.
8
80 TRUE TALES.
"Uncle preacher," said lie to me, "are you
a Whig or a Democrat?" "Why, my son,"
I replied, " I am a preacher, a Christian, and
a Methodist; and is not that enough?"
" YeS," he continued, " I know you are a
preacher, but are you a Whig or a Demo¬
crat?" "Well," said I, "before I can an¬
swer you, you must tell me what these names
mean. What is a Whig ? and what is a De¬
mocrat?" "Why," said he, " a Whig is a
man that eats fat pigs; and a Democrat, he
eats polecats." "Well, well," said I, "if
that he the case, I must be a Whig, for I have
eaten fat pigs, but I never ate a polecat.
But are you sure that you are right ? Might
not some other little boy give the Democrats
the fat pigs, and the Whigs the polecats?"
But he insisted that he was right, and that it
was not the Whigs but the Democrats who
ate polecats. " But let us suppose, Edward,"
said I, " that this was not the case, but that
the Whigs ate polecats and the Democrats
fat pigs: which, then, should we be ?" " Why,
"WILLIAM AND EDWARD. 87
tlien, I would be a Democrat," said the little
politician.
Children love excitement, and they ought
to have it, of a proper kind, and to a fair de¬
gree ; but the excitement of a play at Cat, or
steal-clothes, suits them much better than a
dispute about politics. And, withal, (and
what is not least, though last, in this little
lesson,) they had better just be children, and
not attempt to play the part of men before
they get old enough and wise enough.
®|e flint told1 toffttlb not be f!tnt§lit!t mt ®f
|is leasers.
"And Jesus saith unto them, Tea, have ye never read,
Out of the mouth of babes and sucklings thou hast
perfected praise ?"—Matt. xxi. 16.
There are some persons who think that
children can know nothing about spiritual
religion; and that although they should be
taught their prayers, and required to repeat
them on their knees, morning and evening,
it implies only a ceremony of reverence—as
if the hearts of children might not feel the
love of Jesus. But there are others, (and I
am glad to be one of them,) who believe that
children may have a feeling of sorrow for
sin, and a feeling of love towards God for
the gift of the Saviour; and that with these
feelings they may pray from their hearts,
(88)
THE PRAYING BOY. 89
humbly and sincerely; and that it is pleas¬
ing to God for them to do so.
Some years ago, a minister of the South
Carolina Conference gave me an account of
a little boy in Horry District, which I wish
to repeat in this paper, as an instance of a
child's praying from his heart, and an illus¬
tration of the text which I have put at the
head -of this story. I am sorry to have for¬
gotten the little boy's name; but pleasant as
it is to know the name of a person one reads
about;, I will not withhold the story for want
of the name, but rely on the truth and inter¬
esting character of the facts I am to state,
to recommend them to my young friends,
even without a name.
There had been a camp-meeting, and this
little boy had attended it. A great deal of
good was done, and our little boy was thought
to be converted. His parent^ were not reli¬
gious persons, nor was the meeting held in
their neighborhood. I cannot say certainly
how he came to be there, but think that he
8*
90 TRUE TALES,
happened to be on a visit to a friend. There
were no meetings for worship, nor any church,
in the neighborhood where he lived; and how
sad he felt, on his return home, to think that
he should find no one to encourage him in a
religious life ! No, not even his father and
mother, for they, like their neighbors, were
not religious persons.
Nor was it on his own account only that he
might have been troubled, but more on ac¬
count of his parents than himself; for he
could not but know that they were in danger
of the wrath of God, as sinners who repented
not.
What was the poor boy to do ? Might he,
who was but a child, exhort his father and
mother to repent and be converted ? Might
he dare to seem wiser and better than they ?
He might dare to do any thing for a good
conscience, and much more this, in tvhich
love for his parents joined strongly with his
conscience, to urge him to his duty. He
spoke to them with, tears, and entreated his
THE PRAYING BOY. 91
father so simply and humbly to have prayers
with the family, that, though he would not
himself attempt it, he consented for his little
son to try. And try he did; and thencefor¬
ward there was prayer, morning and evening,
in that house.
The child became God's instrument for the
conversion of his parents: his father applied
to the minister of the circuit, and got him to
preach at his house: a house of worship was
built in the neighborhood : a church was
shortly 'constituted; and that neighborhood
became as religious as any other in that
quarter. All this great amount of good re¬
sulted, by the blessing of God, from the noble
courage and generous fidelity of our little
evangelist.
But it was not the fruit of his conduct at
home only. There were others besides his
parents who had a claim on him, and with
respect to whom his fidelity might not be
maintained without testing his courage to the
utmost. It is not common to find a school
92 TRUE TALES.
in a neighborhood where there is no church,
but there was a school in this neighborhood;
and it was at that school that our little hero
was to be most severely tried, and made most
eminently useful.
At country schools the practice is for
children to take their dinner with them of a
morning, and remain till evening; and the
intermission of two hours at mid-day is spent
as they please. Our little friend, so lately
from the camp-meeting, and just from those
touching scenes of his own dear home, could
not feel inclined to take a part in the boister¬
ous plays of his schoolmates. Perhaps, too,
he was meditating how to break to them the
state of his mind. And so, taking a Testa¬
ment in his hand, he withdrew to a retired
spot in the woods, to spend his time in read¬
ing and prayer.
But he had not been long there before he
was discovered by some of the boys, and pre¬
sently the whole school was rudely about
him, mocking and deriding him for being at
THE PRAYING BOY.
prayer rather than play. Poor children!
They had no thought of what his feelings
really were, and what was the power of the
spirit which was in him, or they might have
acted differently. He was not to he laughed
out of his religion; but the more they
laughed, the more earnestly he prayed, till,
one after another, they went away, and left
him to himself.
The next day he had several to join him,
and from day to day more and more, till, in
a short time, almost all the school, with the
schoolmaster among them, were to be found
with this admirable little boy at the prayer-
meeting in the woods. What followed in the
neighborhood, was, strictly, a revival of re¬
ligion by means of these "babes and suck¬
lings," who, at first, told their friends about
their little Christian fellow and the praying
in the woods, and seconded what they said so
becomingly, in their altered spirit and be¬
havior, as to induce their friends to seek the
grace of God.
94 TRUE TALES.
I can add nothing to this story, but pray
God, through our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom
you bow your knees in your morning and
evening prayers, that it may he made a bless¬
ing to you: that your hearts may feel the
words which you utter in your prayers : that
you may become truly Christian, and a bless¬
ing to your parents, and a praise among all
good people.
UP Cptot m Khmt
I LOYE to think of the grace of God which
converts the soul, as something for every¬
body ; and I love to think of it aS something
for children. My dear children, I would not
have you harbor a thought as if it were not
for you to love the Saviour, who died for
you, and hate sin, because he hates it, and
because it will destroy you if you live in it.
Would any one tell you that such things are
too high for you, and that you cannot attain
unto them, because you cannot understand
them ? Mind it not. Pray, can such a one
tell you how older persons are to understand
these high things ? In that same way may
you also understand them.
Any person, young or old, who knows the
grace of our Lord Jesus Christ at all, must
know that it is to be known more by the
(95)
96 children's religion.
affections than by the understanding—more
by the heart than by the head; and that,
though the understanding may be well-in¬
formed, its knowledge can profit nothing, if
the heart have no affection for the things of
God. The truths of the gospel, which we
must believe in order to be saved, are plain
and simple; and what a child cannot know,
cannot be necessary to salvation; for how
else might thousands of ignorant people be
saved, who have no more knowledge than
children, though they be full-grown ?
What is it that one must know, before one
can become a true Christian ?
Why, we must know that there is a God,
and to do his will. And you know this.
We must know that we are not inclined of
ourselves to love and serve God, but are sin¬
ners, inclined by nature to what is evil. And
do you not know this .?
We must know that, as guilty sinners, we
must perish without hope, unless God have
mercy on us for Christ's sake, and forgive
children's religion. 97
our sins and change our hearts. And do you
not know this also ?
We must know that we cannot pay God
any thing for the pardon of sin, and all his
grace bestowed on us through our Lord Jesus
Christ. And you know this.
We must know that God, of his own love,
gave his Son Jesus Christ our Lord, to make
a sacrifice for our sins, by offering up his
blessed body on the cross for us, that our sins
might be pardoned, and that the Holy Spirit
might be granted us, to teach us and make
us feel how guilty we are as sinners, and how
sufficient Jesus is to save us from our sins.
And do you not also know this ?
And what else must we know? I can
think of nothing else, except (what I have
taken for granted that you do know) that
God shall judge the world, in the last day,
by our Saviour, Jesus Christ, and that the
wicked shall go away into everlasting punish¬
ment, but the righteous into life eternal.
Yes, I will add one other thing that we
9
98 children's religion.
must know; though I am sure that you do
know it. We must know that, as Christ has
purchased the gift of the Holy Spirit to make
us know and feel our sinfulness, and to draw
us to the Saviour for forgiveness; and as he
h»s taught us that our Heavenly Father will
give the Holy Spirit to them that ask him,
for Christ's sake, it is right and pleasing in
the sight of God, and "is our duty, for us to
pray that the Holy Spirit may he given us,
that we may repent and believe in the gospel,
and be saved. And now, if there he any
thing else which we must know before we can
become Christians, I know it not.
And is not any one of these great gospel
truths as easy for you to know as for me ?
Is there any mystery in them, which I might
know for being old, but which you, for being
young, cannot know? Surely not. The
truths themselves, which we are to know and
believe, are as simple as any other truths can
be. What you cannot know about them, I
cannot know. You know, just as I know,
C HI L D\R en'S EE LI&ION. 99
that such truths are taught in God's holy
word—and that they are true—and that we
should trust the truth of them, because God
is true who has taught them. You might ask
me questions about them which 1 could no
more answer than you might, if I were «to
ask them of you. But we have nothing to
do with such questions,- hut only with the
naked truths themselves, which are so plain
that we cannot he mistaken as to what they
mean.
To believe like Christians, is for one to
believe what God says in the Bible, just be¬
cause he says it, and not because one under¬
stands all about it, or how it is to come to
pass. It is enough for us to take the word
of God just as he gives it. And, I say again,
if we do this, and do not trouble our minds
with dark questions which no one can know
of himself, all is easy, and the way into the
kingdom of heaven is plainly open, alike to
vou, dear children, as to older persons.
100 children's religion.
" The wayfaring men, though fools, shall not
err thereinnor shall the children err
therein. You need make no mistake about
it. If you know that you are sinners, you
may also know that you have a Saviour ; and
if you know that you have a Saviour, you
may come to him and be saved.
And should you not come to him, rest
assured that it cannot he for lack of know¬
ledge, hut because your heart is not right.
The oldest and wisest persons could not find
forgiveness, if they had first to find out all
about it. The word of God teaches what his
will is; and the children and the old men must
believe that word, and lay it to heart, and
ask to be taught of God the things of God,
that his word may be fulfilled in them.
My little children, you say your prayers,
but do you pray from the heart ? When you
ask for forgiveness, do you feel what you say ?
When you thank God for the gift of the Sa¬
viour and the Holy Spirit, do you feel it at
children's religion. 101
heart, or do you only speak it from your lips ?
Do you love the Saviour ? Do you want to
love him ? You can love him; and if the
Holy Spirit do but touch your heart, you
shall love him. 0 ! pray for it.
9*
(ftilto's Sang anfo f rap.
teachers.
Children, have you not a song ?
Jesus loves the lisping tongue :
Humbly, softly, sweetly sing
Infant praises to your King.
Sure your infant hearts can feel
What the rending rocks reveal:
Sure your infant tongues can tell,
Jesus "hath done all things well."
children.
Yes, our infant hearts can feel
What the rending rocks reveal:
Yes, our infant tongues can tell,
Jesus "hath done all things well."
Well he laid his glories by,
Stoop'd to earth for man to die,
Conquer'd sin, and death, and hell:
Jesus "hsith done all things well."
(102)
SONG AND PRAYER.
teachers.
Children, have yon not a prayer ?
Jesus listens and will hear:
Let him hear what you would say:
Speak it from your hearts, and pray.
Feel you not a painful want ?
Want of what he waits to grant:
Would you not his blessing share ?
Children, have you not a prayer ?
children.
Yes, we feel that much we want,
Much that none but Christ can grant:
Pardon, peace, and Heaven's kind care
0, how much that calls for prayer!
Lord, we "ask" to be inclined:
So to "seek" that we may find:
So to "knock" at mercy's door
As we never knocked before.
all together.
Jesus, Master, hear our cry,
Save us at the point to die:
Thou, the only Saviour, thou,
Save us, Lord, and save us now.
Now we give up all for thee,
Glad "The Son" should make us free:
Old and young, to Thee we pray,
Take, 0! take our sins away!
M|p 1« fa fir* €mt
When Jesus to the Temple came,
0
And priests and doctors knew him not,
Children announced his royal name;
And people of the humblest lot—
" The blind and lame"—
With loud acclaim,
Shouted the glorious wonders done
By Zion's King, by David's Son.
And hail Him, children, hail him still;
High your exultant voices raise,
To bless His name, whose sovereign will
Tunes infant tongues to "perfect praise.'
Yes, dare fulfil
His sovereign will,
Though "wise and prudent" priests deride,
And doctors scoff on every side.
(104)
children's hosanna. 105
Go, join that joyous Temple song!
Haste, children, shout Messiah come!
Not to " the stones," to you belong
The honors of his welcome home.
The weak and strong
Shout loud and long:
Where are " the wise ?" "the mighty," where?
Stars to the sunlight disappear,
And lo! 'tis Jesus who is here!
the end.