Chapter II: Part 2

Now I want to say a few plain words about the relations of masters and men to each other. In these days of unhappy differences between them, days of constant strikes and lock-outs, it is surely not out of place to say a few words in the interests of peace. There have no doubt been faults on the side of the masters, and no doubt faults too on that of the men. All alike are human, and as such are open to make mistakes, and very often the mistakes they make are difficult to correct. There is no doubt that the old spirit of familiar intercourse between masters and men has passed away. Days when the master was indeed a father to his people, and when all his workmen loved him, and honoured him as such. Those days and that spirit have gone from amongst us. In the country among the farmers we have a different class of men altogether. In towns the employers of labour are different too. The labouring class have changed and are changing still. Working men in the country change their work much oftener than they used to. But there are certain golden rules which, if carefully followed in spite of all changes, may still be of use to masters and men. And, first, there is the grand old rule of "give and take" (the bear and forbear of scripture); without this no society can hold together, no two classes can live together in unity. Masters must always give their men the benefit of a doubt in all cases, and the men on their part must always be ready to acknowledge that their master wishes to act justly and fairly towards them.

Another golden rule is always to be ready to receive and gratefully acknowledge kindness. And this too applies quite as much to the master as to his men. The man who, passing by his master's hayfield, finds that cattle have got in and drives them out, does his master service. And the master who knowing of it does not acknowledge the service, deserves most richly to lose his crop. And the man who in time of sickness receives from his master wine or other necessaries, and does not gratefully thank him for the same, deserves to lose his place for his ingratitude.

I have spoken in another chapter of civil speaking. Nowhere is it more needful than in the dealings of masters and men. If a master speaks uncivilly, or harshly, or unkindly to his men, how dare he expect that they will care to speak civilly in return? And if the men do not speak civilly to their master, it is certain he won't care to hold much conversation with them. But, above all, if you would know the right and proper relations between masters and men, you can't find it better put than in the Bible. There, either in the dealings of Christ with His Apostles, or in the epistles of St. Paul and St. James (notably in the sixth chapter of Ephesians), you will find a fit example for you to copy in your daily life. St. Paul warns the Ephesians against eye service. And is there any more necessary caution than that in these days. Men are so apt--we are all so apt--to slur over our work, to do it carelessly, that we need to be cautioned that all work is hallowed, and is done to the Lord. And the masters too will find a word for them. They are warned against threatening their servants, or speaking harshly to them, for they too have a Master in heaven, Who will one day be their Judge.

If you are a master, an employer of labour, then remember that poor folks have their troubles. They may not be your troubles, and you may not understand them; but oh, do speak kindly and, if you can, feelingly. There are some poor fellows working on our English farms and in our large warehouses who have never known what a kind word meant; whose earliest recollections carry them back to an ill-tempered mother, or a drunken father, and to them a kind word would be a comfort indeed.

And if you have to toil, reader, in the sweat of your brow for your daily bread, remember that your master has his troubles too. Failing crops or losses in business tell upon his purse, and sometimes on his temper, and then perhaps he may speak harshly. But it will soon be over; all the work, all the angry words, all the sorrow, and the great Master Himself shall enter the harvest-field, and the golden sheaves shall bow before Him, as they did in Joseph's dream, "for that harvest is the end of the world, and the reapers are the angels."

*FORGIVENESS OF OTHERS.*

"Oh! never bear malice, 'twill poison the breast,
The storm is all over, then, there let it rest.
The hot word of rage has been truly unkind,
But the sting of deep sorrow may linger behind.
'Twere better to yield than for ever be foes,
One look of compassion strikes harder than blows;
'Tis human to injure--to wound--or to threat,
But oh! 'tis divine to forgive and forget."
_J. Burbidge._

In that beautiful prayer which our blessed Lord left to His disciples, we have amongst other petitions, one especially directed to the forgiveness of sin. We ask God to forgive us what we have done amiss against Him, and call Him to witness that we forgive our brother who has sinned against us. "Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive them that trespass against us." You see it is as much as saying to God, that we _don't_ want Him to forgive us, _unless_ He sees that we have freely forgiven any who may have sinned against us. Now it is very much easier, is it not, to speak an angry word, or to think an unkind thought of anyone who has offended us? It may be they have not even _sinned_ against us. Perhaps they have said something about us which in our hearts we know to be quite true, only we don't want the neighbours to know it, and so we pretend it is false; and we pretend to think we have been injured, and that we have something to forgive. And many of us I fear go farther still and refuse to bestow forgiveness at all. I have known forgiveness withheld from people for the smallest reasons. A family have not received the pew in church they wanted, or their name has been omitted by mistake from a dinner list, or they were forgotten in a Christmas charity, or something of the kind. And for such trifles as these they blame the clergyman generally, forgetting that his parish work may have taken up his time, and so the mistake may have arisen. And yet these people are nothing loth to kneel before their Father in Heaven, and with this unforgiven trespass on their hearts they pray, "Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive them that trespass against us."

Perhaps you may say, "I don't see that it matters much to people whether I forgive them or not. I am but a poor man, and my love or my hatred can't make much difference to them." But reader, I answer, whether your friend be rich or poor, if he be a true friend, it will always make the greatest difference to him, if he have done you hurt, whether he have your forgiveness or no. And more than this, it matters very much indeed to Him who has said, "If ye forgive not men their trespasses, neither will your heavenly Father forgive you your trespasses." And just think what an awful feeling it would be for you, if you heard that a person with whom you had a quarrel, had died suddenly, and carried the sense of his unforgiven trespass into the world to come.

A short time ago in the South of England there lived two friends. They were always together; they loved each other, and could not bear to be apart. For a long while, the greater part of a lifetime, this friendship continued, and as they were both religious men, their friendship was blessed and strengthened by Almighty God. But after a while it pleased God to try their love for each other, and like the dead fly in the ointment, or the worm at the root of Jonah's gourd, he sent a slight cause of disagreement between them. So slight a matter was it that it was difficult to say which of the two was to blame, but it was sufficient to come between them. And so little by little a coldness arose, each being too proud to say he was in the wrong, until the coldness ripened into anger, and so they separated. For some years they lived apart, hearing nothing of each other, until one morning when one of them was reading the newspaper, he found the report of his friend's death. So sudden and unexpected was it that it took him quite by surprise, and he never recovered the shock. Night and day he kept thinking of years gone by, when they were firm friends, and then he would remember the evil day when their disagreement took place, and then came death!

Reader, if you have been living, or are living in enmity with anyone, go _at once_ and ask their pardon, or if necessary grant it. So shall you pray with some hope of acceptance the oft-repeated words, and show not only with your lips, but in your life, that you really mean what you say when you pray, "Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive them that trespass against us."

"Then forgive and forget!--'tis a rule of such worth,
That 'twould scatter rich blessings all over the earth;
Turn deserts to gardens of beauty and peace,
And bid half the storms of contention to cease.
As we act to ourselves, we should act to another,
And look on each man that we meet as a brother,
In hope that when nature lays claim to her debt,
Our God will in mercy forgive and forget."

*HARD WORK.*

"Work is sweet, for God hath blest
Honest work with quiet rest--
Rest below, and rest above,
In the mansions of His love,
When the work of life is done,
When the battle's fought and won.

Working ere the day is gone,
Working till your work is done:
Not the work that pain imparts,
But the work of honest hearts;
Working till your spirits rest
With the spirits of the blest."
_Anon._

I have spoken so often in these passages already on the subject of work, that but little remains to be said. And yet there are so many kinds of work, and hard work too, that we can do on earth, that it seems as though we could never get to the end of them. There are, for instance, home work, warfare work, praying work, and a great many other kinds of work, of which it would take too long to speak now. Of some of these I have spoken already in this book, but I want to say a few words about _warfare work_ in this chapter.

Warfare work is perhaps the hardest kind of work of all, because it is work of the spirit. It is a work that must be always going on, while we live here; so long as Satan lives to tempt man to sin, man must war against it. In the sixth chapter of S. John we read in the 28th verse, "Jesus said unto them, this is the work of God that ye believe on Him, whom He hath sent." It is no easy thing to believe; nay, it is very hard to believe simply in Jesus Christ; and yet in the above passage He Himself speaks of it as the work of all others, which is to be done for God. When our hearts get crusted over with sin and selfishness, it is no easy matter to take again the heart of a little child and simply believe our Father's word; and yet this is needful work for His children.

But besides this inner struggle, there is another that affects more our outward life. All have a besetting sin to fight against--drunkenness, lust, or such like. Very different, however, are the ways in which this warfare is waged. Some struggle because they can't help it, and are like "the dumb driven cattle"; others are so feeble that they soon

"By the roadside fall and perish,
Weary with the march of life."

Others try to conceal, even from themselves, that they have a conflict to maintain. It is the Christian only, who going forth in the strength of Another, can hope to work joyfully and successfully.

And now having said thus much about warfare work, let me add a few words about everyday labour, by giving a few hints to those who may be doing hard work. First, then, _be punctual_. Time is a gift from God. And if we choose to mislay our own portion, we have no right to take that of those around us. Just look, for instance, at a case which happens almost daily. A man starts to go on a long journey. Say, if you will, he is going to Manchester. His train is so timed, that he reckons it will arrive in London half-an-hour before the departure of the Manchester train. In that half-hour, he will have to collect his luggage, and cross London. The train arrives in London ten minutes late, the man misses the train for Manchester by five minutes. It may make a difference to him, all through his life, that he missed that train. And so you see the need of punctuality. Secondly, _be thorough_. "Whatsoever thine hand findeth to do, do it _with thy might_." Do not try and do more than you are able; but what you do, do well. It is better to do one thing well, than half-a-dozen badly. There is nothing too small to be done thoroughly--no work so unimportant, that you can say, "It doesn't matter _how_ I do it." And this thorough spirit, you will find, will prevent your delaying doing your work. You won't wish to put off till to-morrow what can be done to-day.

Thirdly, _be straightforward_; never mind anybody seeing _how_ you work. Never do evil that good may come. The devil has so much power over the mind of man that he will readily suggest the evil, but he will keep back the good which might follow. The Christian's road is the straight road, where none can lose their way. Any duty that has to be done secretly is not duty at all, but a sham! The truths that must be made pleasant by worldly methods will lose their truthfulness, and fail of their effect.

Fourthly, _be patient_; God doesn't care about your success, He looks upon the unwearied arm, the patient heart. If you measure your work by that of others you will grow impatient, for in many cases they may seem to do much more, and to succeed much better than you. Be patient when your employer speaks sharply to you. It may not be deserved; it may be he blames you where he should blame someone else; never mind, be patient. "If ye do good to them which do good to you, what thank have ye? for sinners also do even the same. But love ye your enemies, and do good, and lend, hoping for nothing again; and your reward shall be great, and ye shall be the children of the Highest, for He is kind unto the unthankful and to the evil[#]."

[#] S. Luke vi. 35.

Lastly, reader, _be spiritually minded_. Never let work of any kind interfere with the worship of God. Remember, He is your Father and your Friend, as well as "the great Work-master." If we are to work hard in our earthly business, it must, if it is to prosper, be softened and mingled with our heavenly work; that so "passing through things temporal we finally lose not the things eternal."

And then after work comes rest! The body, so worn with sickness, so faint with toil, so weary with fatigue, will enjoy its rest. Nor will it rest merely in the green "sleeping-place," which has been beautifully called "God's acre," beside the quiet river, or by the ancient church; but it shall rise to take an active part in the great hereafter of the sons of God. And who shall dare describe to us the rest of the troubled spirit in the Father's house? Who shall tell us of its wanderings, its joys, its occupations? It is enough for us to know that "there remaineth a rest to the people of God[#]." A rest we cannot understand, we must not seek to know, until that day, when we shall find ourselves in that heavenly presence, "where the wicked cease from troubling, and the weary are at rest[#]."

[#] Heb. iv. 9.

[#] Job iii. 17.

*COURTSHIP.*

"Still in the pure espousal
Of Christian man and maid:
The Holy Three are with us,
The threefold grace is said.

For dower of blessed children,
For love and faith's sweet sake,
For high mysterious union,
Which nought on earth may break."
_Keble._

As this book is intended especially for young men, it would manifestly be incomplete if I were to avoid any subjects upon which young men were likely to need assistance. And so now I propose to say a few plain words upon courtship. I know that this is what is called a delicate subject, and I know too that any words from a stranger upon this subject must be both carefully and thoughtfully spoken, if they are to find acceptance. Now courtship, like almost everything else, is open to abuse; and, like very nearly everything else too, it very often is abused. It is often made a pretext for impure conversation and indecent liberties. Have you any right to expect that any marriage, however suitable the match may be in other ways, if it follows such a courtship as this, will be blessed by the Almighty, and happy in the end?

Courtship is almost as old as the world. It is the same in all countries, wherever man is found there courtship exists, in some form or other. But though courtship is a necessary step to married life, yet it is by no means necessary that it should be made an excuse for indulging in impure and filthy conversation. Young men and young women should remember that wherever they are, and whatever they may be doing, whether it be work or amusement, they have a duty to perform as Christians which must come before all other duties whatsoever. I know it is hard for young men, living in country villages, and continually indulging in what is called "free talk," to keep such guard over their lips, as to prevent anything passing but what is strictly pure and right. But it must be done; for, as I said just now, if the marriage is to have God's blessing, (and what marriage can be really happy without it?) then the courtship must be free from sin.

Many young men, again, think it no harm to keep company with a young woman--to walk with her, as they say--without ever having any serious thoughts of marrying her at all. Now, this again, is wrong--all wrong. It is one of the links in the devil's chain, with which he seeks to bind the souls for whom Christ died. It is one of the many ways by which he tries to draw souls into his net by teaching them to do wrong, all the while pretending that there is no harm. Therefore, my advice is, don't keep company with any young woman you do not mean to marry in the end.

And now one word upon the choice of a wife, for this is most important. I do not think a man can be too careful in this respect if he wishes to have a happy home. And this is one of the great benefits of courtship--it enables a man to get an insight into the character of her whom he intends to make his wife. Now, of course, there are always many things which must be left to the man to choose for himself; and different people will choose very differently. But there are, I think, certain qualities which, if they were to be found oftener in wives, would completely change the tone of many of our English homes. Such qualities are good-temper, cleanliness, cheerfulness, patience, contentment, and love. I might name many more, but I have no time to speak of them now. But though at first sight it may seem strange, the qualities which I have named above are those we most rarely meet with.

But, above all things, it is essential that a man should have a godly wife, first for his own sake, then for his children's. One who will look upon prosperity as the gift of a kind Father, Who thinks of the happiness of His children; and upon adversity, if it come, as part of a necessary discipline, sent by the same loving Friend. Then the man may confidently and hopefully take such an one to be his wedded wife, "to love her, comfort her, honour, and keep her in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all other[#]," keep himself only unto her, so long as both shall live. And then when the weary days of sickness, or the solemn hour of dying shall come to him, the wife will be there to nurse the sick, or close the dying eyes, and to whisper words of comfort to the departing soul.

[#] Marriage Service.

*MARRIAGE.*

"Husband dear, 'twas your loving hand
Showed the way to that better land,
Oh! how often you cheered me then;
'Things will be better, dear wife, again.'

Hand in hand, when life was May,
Hand in hand now our hair is grey,
Shadow and sun for every one,
As the years roll on.

Hand in hand, when the long night-tide
Gently covers us, side by side,
We will trust, though we know not when,
God will be with us for ever then!"

Before entering on this great and solemn step in life, every man should read through the service in the Prayer Book for the solemnization of matrimony. Therein you will see with what awe and reverence it is spoken of, as a thing "not to be undertaken lightly, but reverently, discreetly, advisedly, soberly, and in the fear of God[#]."

[#] Marriage Service.

You will find that it was ordained for the mutual society, help, and comfort of the man and woman, that they ought each to receive from each other both in prosperity and adversity. Each man and woman is solemnly reminded of "the dreadful day of judgment," when "the secrets of all hearts will be disclosed[#]." Could any words be more solemn, or full of warning? And yet how many enter upon marriage with but little thought of the solemn vow they then take before God. And this, I think, is quite sufficient to account for the unhappy results of so many marriages; for the bitterness and quarrels between husband and wife, and the frequent applications for divorce. I have already spoken of how careful you ought to be in making choice of a wife during the days of courtship. Many men are taken with a pretty face, or a fine dress, or a bright, cheery manner; but unless there is a good, honest, God-fearing heart underneath, you may be sure you will not be happy with her when trials and troubles come, as come they surely must into the lives of each of us.

[#] Marriage Service.

Now let me earnestly beg of you to think of what you are going to promise in the Marriage Service. You take each other, as those words so beautifully express it, "for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish," _until death parts you_. Remember this--marriage is not merely a passing engagement you can enter into for a short time and give up when you like. It is not like courtship. No, it is lifelong. Some, alas! do not look upon it as binding. But never allow yourself to forget how God looks upon such a sin; and the Bible tells us that the most terrible judgment awaits those who have broken their marriage vow. God's laws are written in the Bible, and no Act of Parliament can change them. The Bible must be the Christian's rule of life, and its precepts he must follow.

Let yours, then, be _a Christian marriage_--one on which you may trust God's blessing will rest. Try throughout your life to fulfil what you then promise, and to make your wife a good, true, and loving husband. Be good-tempered and forbearing with her. When troubles come, try and share them bravely together; so that she who has helped to bear your burden, when the troubles are past, may also be "a helper of your joy." Your wife has often much to put up with--home cares, troubles with the little ones, delicate health, a hard struggle, perhaps, "to make both ends meet;" therefore, when you come home after your day's work, always have a kind word ready for her. Do not keep an undue share of your wages for yourself, for amusement, or for drink, but share it with her, giving her enough to make her home and the children comfortable. In short, learn to take your rule of life straight from God's Holy Word, where it is written, "Bear ye one another's burdens, and so fulfil the law of Christ[#]."

[#] Gal. vi. 2.

But, above all, try and help each other on the way to Heaven, and to live not for yourselves, but for God and for others. Then, indeed, you will be, as the Marriage Service says, "heirs together of the grace of life;" not merely of the few short years spent together in this life present, but of that blessed life beyond the grave, where "there is neither marrying, nor giving in marriage, but they are as the angels of God[#]."

[#] S. Matt. xxiv. 38.

*KINDNESS.*

"I ask Thee for a thoughtful love,
Through constant watching wise,
To meet the glad with joyful smiles,
And to wipe the weeping eyes:
And a heart at leisure from itself,
To soothe and sympathise."
_A. L. Waring._

A little kindness goes a long way! There are many people in the world, nay about our own homes, whom respectable people have given up, as being hopelessly bad; and who have become what they are because they have never known what kindness meant. If you were to go through our prisons, you would find that there is a vast number of criminals in them who can trace their first step on the road to ruin to the want of a word kindly spoken. They have never known, what you and I, reader, have enjoyed perhaps from our childhood up, a mother's tender love. The word "home" suggests to their minds thoughts of a drunken father, more a beast than a man; and of a mother who was so taken up with the cares of this world, that she had no love to give to her children. Yes, I have often heard of cases, in which a word of kindness, spoken at the right moment, might have gladdened the whole afterlife. I have known some cases in which even murder might have been prevented, if only a kind word had taken the place of an angry one.

Reader, a kind word costs very little, and goes a very long way. Even a kind look will do something. I once knew a deaf and dumb man, whose look was so kind that little children would run up to him in the street, though he was quite powerless to speak kindly to them. I have spoken of forgiveness of others--kindness and forgiveness are very nearly connected. A really kind man is always a forgiving man; and he who knows how to forgive is always a kind-hearted person.

Kindness shows itself in all the relations of life. A kind man is kind to his wife, kind to his children, and kind to his friends. But nowhere does real kindness show itself more strongly in a man, than when he is kind to animals. They quickly understand and are thankful for kindness; and in their way repay it. For instance, everybody who has had anything to do with horses knows how far a little kindness will go with them. Very often a horse's temper is upset for a whole day, because he was unkindly treated at starting. Then there are numbers of horses whose tempers have been completely ruined by their having been ill-treated when they were young. Oh! yes, a little kindness goes a long way; and it amply repays the bestower to see how gladly and how thankfully it is received.

We have, many of us, heard the story of the soldier who was killed in battle, and whose dog, unknown to him, had followed him, until he fell; and how when night descended on the battlefield, the faithful creature, mindful of his dead master's kindness to him, refused to quit the corpse, but stayed there to protect it. We have heard, many of us, the story of the poor beggar, with no friend on earth but one little dog, who, in return for his kindness in giving it food, followed him in his weary walks, until at last, on the cold and snowy high road, when the poor man lay down to die, it was his only companion. When in the morning a party of travellers passed along the road, they found them lying dead together, with a shroud of pure white snow covering them both. Then again you may have, seen Landseer's beautiful picture of "The Shepherd's chief mourner." The room is deserted, and the coffin is alone in the middle, with the shepherd's plaid thrown over it; alone, yet not alone, for there, with his head resting on his master's coffin, sits "the shepherd's chief mourner," the sheep-dog, who had followed him in life, and will not leave him, even after death. And if kindness, heaven-born kindness, goes so far with the lower animals, it has an equal, may I not say even a greater influence upon mankind. Which of us has not felt sometimes the benefit of kindness? It may have been in a time of sickness, or sorrow, it may have been a kindly word spoken as we passed away from a new-made grave. But whatever may have been the circumstances under which it was spoken, there can be but few whom a kind word has failed to reach. And if this is so; if _we_ have derived joy and happiness from a kind word, why not speak a kind word to others, after the example of our God, "for He is kind, to the unthankful and the evil[#]."

[#] S. Luke vi. 35.

Strive, then, to practise the golden rule of kindness, in whatever station God has placed you. Be genial, be kind, be civil to all, following the Apostolic rule, "Be ye kind one to another, tender-hearted, forgiving one another: even as God, for Christ's sake, hath forgiven you[#]."

[#] Ephesians iv. 32.

*OUR PARENTS.*

"Who sat and watched my infant head,
When sleeping on my cradle bed?
And tears of sweet affection shed?
My Mother!

Who taught my infant lips to pray,
And love God's holy Book, and Day,
And walk in wisdom's pleasant way?
My Mother!

And God, Who lives above the skies,
Would look with anger in His eyes,
If I should ever dare despise
My Mother!"

Our earliest recollections are of our father and mother! All through our childhood they were near us, joining in our play, nursing us in sickness, comforting in pain or trouble. All that made us happy, or that made the world seem bright to us, they gave us. They were always ready to reward us when we were good; they were always grieved when we did wrong. We never can repay our parents for all their kindness to us in our infancy. All the labour which supplied the bread we ate and the bed we slept on; and shall not we do what we can for them in their old age? If your parents, reader, were religious people, they prayed for you besides, and you will never know on this side the grave how many early temptations those prayers may have kept off. You can understand now why it was that your parents sometimes punished you for doing wrong, though you might not have seen the wisdom of it then. And the day will come, believe me, when you will learn--it may be only "through much tribulation"--the wisdom of the punishments inflicted by our Father in heaven. "For _now_ we see through a glass darkly; but _then_ face to face: now I know in part, but _then_ shall I know even as also I am known." And now, in all humility, do let me say a word to those parents into whose hands this book may chance to fall. I have spoken of influence and its wonderful power in the other parts of this book. I have repeatedly dwelt on the necessity of setting a good example; let me do so once again here. I cannot put what I wish to say into better, or shorter, or simpler language than it has been put by a recent writer, who speaks as follows--"Old friends," he says, "fathers, mothers, whose heads are filled with the snows of age, whose brows are furrowed deep with the traces of life's cares and burthens, perhaps with the thorns of its crown, we look to you to teach us all that God means by death; all the blessings with which the angel who guides our pilgrimage comes laden, when he advances to clasp our hand, to be to us a rod and a staff through the glooms that hang about the threshold of the ever-lasting home. We look to see you with something of the brightness of the heavenly home upon you now; a gleam in the eyes, a tone in the look and bearing, which have been caught from long communion with the things and beings, whose full glory awaits you there. No complaints, no sadness, no sorrowful looking back to the world which you are leaving, and where your place, to which you thought yourself all-important, is already filled."

Lastly, let me return for a moment to those to whom this book is specially addressed. Young men, it is your duty and your privilege alike to take care of your parents, and to provide for their wants when they are too old or infirm to do so for themselves. Be laying by a little store of money now against that day, if it be only a few pence a week that you can save out of your wages, you can't think what a help it may be hereafter. You wouldn't like your children to leave you to die in the workhouse; you wouldn't like, when old age comes, to feel that you and your wife, who had lived happily together for years, were now to be taken to live within high walls in a pauper's dress, and not be free to go in and out as you pleased. You wouldn't like to find that you were suffering all this want, while your son, who was quite able to keep you out of it, was drinking away his wages in the nearest public-house. And if you wouldn't like this yourself, why should you treat your parents so? This, as you know, is not a made-up case; it is happening every day in almost every village in the country. God gave us parents, first, that they might take care of us; and then, if need be, that we should take care of them. The earthly parent should be in every way a pattern of the heavenly, for He is good, "even to the unthankful and the evil," to the just and to the unjust alike.

Reader, if you have not been doing your duty to your parents hitherto, go and begin at once. Try and make the old folks comfortable. Let them feel that their son is indeed a comfort to them, and a stay in their old age. And then, when old age comes upon you, God will repay you. In the hour of sickness He will be with you, comforting and blessing you: until the time come when you too have to lean on your staff for very age, while the shadows grow darker and darker round you.

*OUR CHILDREN.*

"Oh! there are times when to our sight,
E'en on this side the grave, is given
A glimpse revealing in full light
The triumphs gained on earth by heaven.

In Him our little ones are great,
In Him our feeble folk are strong;
And childhood sits in high estate
Amid the martyrs' noble throng."
_R. Tomlins._

God has committed no more solemn charge to our care than that of our children. Over and over again in the Gospels do we find that Jesus called attention to little children. On one occasion you will remember that strife having arisen among the disciples, as to which of them should be greatest in the kingdom of heaven, Jesus, perceiving it, took a little child, and set him by His side; and from this simple circumstance He taught His disciples that in order to enter into that kingdom, they must receive His message with the same simple, trustful faith, as would a little child. And once again, we read that the parents brought their little ones to Him that He might bless them; and when His disciples, being vexed that their Master's time should be taken up with what they doubtless considered a trifling matter, Jesus, we read, rebuked them, and said, "Suffer the little children to come unto Me, and forbid them not; for of such is the kingdom of God[#]."

[#] S. Mark x. 13.

Reader, the times have not changed so much, since Jesus walked upon our earth, that we can afford to disregard His words. Do remember that if you use bad language, or tell an impure story, or even speak an unkind word, you may be putting a stumbling-block in the children's way, and keeping them from Christ.

And now let me say a word concerning Baptism. I do not believe, and our Church nowhere teaches her children to believe, that a child who dies unbaptised is in danger of eternal damnation. But she does tell us that _the parents_ who keep their children back from that sacred ordinance, are in danger of punishment. She goes straight to the Bible, as her authority, and points out the blame which our Lord attached to the disciples, who would have kept the children from Him, teaching us thereby that the same kind of blame belongs to those parents who keep their children from holy Baptism now.

And when your children are baptised the great thing to remember is example. Parents, set a good example to your children at home. Children very quickly notice anything that is wrong, and as quickly copy it. And then they go out, and teach it to other children, and so by your bad example at home, you may have destroyed the happiness of many lives. Teach your children rather that they may have an interest beyond the grave, that for them there is laid up a rich reward in our Father's kingdom. "I pity," says a recent writer, "the son, who has never had an interest beyond the grave; but I pity far more the mother, who has never told him of the rest that remaineth for the people of God."

There were once two fathers, both of whom God had blessed with children. One lived on the river Mississippi, in America. He was a man of great wealth. Yet he would have freely given it all to have brought back his son from an early grave. One day that boy had been borne home unconscious. They did everything that they could to restore him, but in vain. "He will die," said the doctor. "But doctor," cried the poor father, "can you do nothing to bring him to consciousness, even for a moment?" "That may be," said the doctor, "but he can't live." Time passed, and after awhile the father's wish was gratified. "My son," he whispered, "the doctor tells me you are dying." "Well," said the boy, "you never prayed for me, father, won't you pray for my lost soul now?" The father wept. It was too true he had _never prayed_. He was a stranger to God. And in a little while that soul, unprayed for, passed into eternity. Young man, the day will come, when you perhaps will be a father too. If your boy was dying, and called on you to pray, could you lift your burdened heart to Heaven? Have you learned this sweetest lesson of heaven or earth, to know and hold communion with your God? And before this evil world shall have marked your dearest treasures for its prey, oh learn to lead your little ones to a children's Christ. But what a contrast was the other father! He too had a lovely boy, and one day he came home to find him at the gates of death. "A great change has come over our boy," said the weeping mother; "he has only been ill a little while, but it seems now as if he were dying fast." The father went into the room, and put his hand on his son's forehead. He could see the boy was dying. He could feel the cold damp of death. "My son, do you know you are dying?" he asked. "No, father, am I?" said the boy. "Yes, my boy, you can't live till the evening." "Well, then, I shall be with Jesus to-night, shan't I, father?" "Yes, my son, you will spend to-night with the Saviour." As he turned away, the little fellow saw tears trickling down his father's cheeks. "Don't weep for me," he said; "when I get to heaven, I shall go straight to Jesus, and tell Him that ever since I can remember, you have tried to lead me to Him." Reader, if God should give you a son, and should see fit to take him again to Himself, would you not rather he should carry such testimony as that to your Master, than have all the wealth of the world rolled at your son's feet?

Once more, then, let me earnestly pray you to set a good example. Young man, set a good example to the boys who work with you on the farm or elsewhere. They will be ready to pick up anything good or bad from you. And if they once learn it, it will be very hard to unlearn it again.

And to all who read this book, whether their work lie in the farm, in the counting-house, in the barracks, or on board ship, my last words are the same; the great secret of example is purity of heart and life. Never do anything or say anything that you would be ashamed for God to hear. And if you yourself have never thought how little it would profit you to gain the whole world, and lose your own soul, I beseech you not to let another sun go down before you think out that great question.

*HOME.*

"Friend,--when in trial and suffering,
Where dost thou find thy home?
Where in thy pain canst thou seek relief,
Where in thy sorrows come?
Where from the world's rude conflict
Canst thou find a calm retreat?
Where learn afresh with courage
Thy trials and sorrows to meet?
Where is thy shield from adversity's dart?
Friend, thy _home_ is a loved one's heart.

Man,--when thy heart is torn with grief,
When thy hopes are for ever gone,
When adversity's cloud hangs over thy head,
And earth's troubles weigh thee down,--
When those whom thou lovest have turned away,
And cruelly slighted thee,--
When thy heart is crushed, and thy joys are gone,--
For shelter, oh! where canst thou flee?
Man, though from comfort on earth thou'rt driven,
Thy home and thy joys are with God in Heaven."
_L. Jewitt._

Home! What a word that is. Is there any word like it? Any that brings so much joy, or so much sorrow, into the human breast? The fisherman who has toiled all night and caught nothing, looks anxiously for dawn, because he knows that then he will return home to wife and children. The sailor, toiling over the endless sea, rejoices as he thinks that each moment he is nearing home. The labourer in the fields is glad when the hot sun sinks towards the west, because it is nearly time to go home. The boy at school longs for the holidays to come because it means home, and to him home is everything. The weary traveller, well-nigh dead with fatigue, who sees his distant home from the top of a neighbouring hill, gathers fresh strength from the sight to continue his journey.

But the home can only be really home in the truest and best sense of the word, when the people who live there make it home-like. It need have no costly adornments, but every member of the family should have "the ornament of a meek and quiet spirit, which is in the sight of God of great price." There should be no display of angry tempers, or of hard words. Kindness should reign there; gentleness and love should be practised there. In short, that home can only be a happy one which is a copy of the home in heaven. Parents have a very solemn and important duty to perform here. It is for them to make their homes not nurseries of vice and sin, but homes of love and happiness, where Jesus and His angels will be glad to come. How many men and women there are who can trace an evil, misspent, sinful life back to their early home. It was, may be, from a father's lips they first learnt to swear; perhaps from a mother's example they first learnt to lie. And the children, too, have a solemn duty to perform with regard to home. There are life lessons which must be learnt at home, if we would learn them at all. Obedience, purity, love, and piety, all must be learnt at home; and if these are indeed to be found there, the home on earth is a fit type of the home in heaven.

Reader, are you doing your utmost to make your home on earth like the home beyond? Perhaps you have never thought much about it. Perhaps you have never considered that there was any connection between them. But there is; there should be. They should be, as it were, the same home, separated indeed by a narrow gulf, but joined by a bridge over which all must pass, even death itself.

Some people look upon death quite wrongly, for this reason. If one of their children die, they almost think that when the earth covers it they will never see it again; but the Bible does not teach that. Rather should we feel, in the beautiful words of the hymn, that our little ones are going home--

"They are going--only going--
Jesus called them long ago;
All the wintry time they're passing
Softly as the falling snow.
When the violets in the spring-time
Catch the azure of the sky,
They are carried out to slumber
Sweetly, where the violets lie.

All along the mighty ages,
All adown the solemn time,
They have taken up their homeward
March to a serener clime,
Where the watching, waiting angels
Lead them from the shadow dim,
To the brightness of His Presence
Who has called them unto Him."

Yes, it is even so, "they are going, only going," from the home on earth to the home in heaven. Going from pain and sorrow and sin to a better home, where there is no bitter parting, no more sorrow, and no more death. And looking at it in this light, would you wish to keep them, would you even seek to stay their departure for one short hour. The home on earth is subject to sickness, to sorrow, and partings. But the home in heaven knows none of these. We cannot always stay at home on earth, but must needs go out to work for our living among strangers. But when we once reach the many mansions of our Father's house, we shall go no more out. There will be no more sleepless nights, or sunless days, for the Sun of righteousness shines on all alike, "and there is no night there."

Strive then to dwell together in unity on earth; doing _your_ best to make home what home should be, and God will do the rest.

*HEAVEN OUR HOME. PART I.*

"There is a blessed Home
Beyond this land of woe,
Where trials never come,
Nor tears of sorrow flow.

There is a land of peace,
Good angels know it well:
Glad songs that never cease
Within its portals swell."
_Baker._

Our thoughts, as Christians, must needs often turn upon our heavenly home. The labourer toiling in the hot harvest-field often thinks of his distant cottage. The sailor upon the lonely sea is often thinking of those at home. And the Christian, in the midst of his troubles and temptations here, must often think of his home beyond. Heaven is the dwelling-place of God. It matters little how far away it is. God is there, and that is enough. We often feel sad when we think of our dear ones who have left us. But if we could look beyond the veil into the eternal city, we should see the Good Shepherd leading them by the green pastures, and beside the still waters. Our friends, who have died in the fear of God, are not lost to us for ever, only gone before. They had a desire "to depart and to be with Christ, which is far better"--better than the suffering, and the sorrow, and the toil. And Christ has given them their wish. And He has told us that if we would rejoin them one day, and be with them for ever, we must not lay up treasure on earth, but in heaven. Earthly treasure, gold, silver, land, popularity, and the praise of men, these may be taken from us, and given to others. But heavenly treasure--purity of life, love to God, helping travellers on the road to heaven--these we may lay up now, with the certainty that we shall never lose _them_, either in this world or in that which is to come.

I read a story the other day of a rich man in America, to whom a person went to try and interest him in mission work. The rich man took him up to the top of his house, and said to him, "Look yonder over that beautiful rolling plain, that is all mine as far as the eye can reach." He took him round again to the other side, and showed him thirty miles of pasture, with horses and cattle feeding. "They are all mine," he said, "I have made it all myself." Then he pointed proudly towards the town, and showed him streets and warehouses, and a great hall named after himself, and said once more, "They are all mine; I came into this country a poor man, but my own industry has done it all." The other listened patiently until he had done speaking, and then pointing upward to the sky, he asked, "And what have you got there?" "Where?" asked the rich man. "In heaven!" said the other. "I have got nothing there," he answered bitterly. Alas, he had lived his three-score years and ten, and must soon enter eternity, and yet he had no treasure in heaven!

Reader, where is _your_ treasure? "Where your treasure is there will your heart be also[#]." There is no harm whatever in your feeling pleasure in your cottage, or your garden, or your field. But when these things shut out thoughts of God, and thoughts of heaven, from that moment they become sinful.

"I'm but a stranger here;
Heaven is my Home.
Earth is a desert drear;
Heaven is my Home.
Danger and sorrow stand
Round me on every hand;
Heaven is my Father-land;
Heaven is my Home.

What though the tempest rage!
Heaven is my Home.
Short is my pilgrimage;
Heaven is my Home.
And time's wild wintry blast
Soon will be overpast;
I shall reach Home at last;
Heaven is my Home.

There at my Saviour's side;
Heaven is my Home.
I shall be glorified;
Heaven is my Home.
Then with the good and blest,
Those on earth I love the best,
I shall for ever rest;
Heaven is my Home."

[#] S. Matt. vi. 21.

*HEAVEN OUR HOME. PART II.*