"O yes," cried Mary; "there is Emma Woodbury,--I do not believe she ever asks her mother's advice."
"No," said Clara, "and there is Jane Clifton's mother,--"
"Stop, my dears," interrupted Mrs. Spaulding, "these remarks of yours remind me that there is another subject, about which I should like to have a conversation with you; and if your mother, Mary, will give you permission to come home with Clara, after school to-morrow afternoon, I will tell you what it is."
"O yes, I know she will," replied Mary. "Indeed, yesterday, I should not have thought of asking her; but now, after what I have heard from your lips, I shall not do anything, or go anywhere, without asking her consent."
"I am glad," responded Mrs. Spaulding, "that you remember this lesson so well. Now, Mary, you had better go home; and may neither of you ever think otherwise than seriously, of the divine command, to 'honor thy father and thy mother;' and remember that few persons have ever come to harm when they grew up, who in their youth obeyed it."
UNCHARITABLE JUDGMENT.
CONVERSATION II.
"Cast out the beam from thine own eye, then shalt thou see clearly to cast the mote out of thy brother's eye."
Mary's mother cheerfully gave her leave to go home with Clara, the next day. She knew and highly esteemed Mrs. Spaulding, and was very glad that her daughter should be intimate with her family.
Mrs. Spaulding greeted the girls with a smile and a kind word; then said, "Mary, you began last evening to make a remark about Emma Woodbury. Will you tell me what you were going to say?"
"Certainly," replied Mary; "I was going to say that Emma scarcely ever asked the advice of her mother, or her consent to do anything or go anywhere; and I know a great many girls who act in the same way."
"And I," added Clara, "intended to say that Jane Clifton's mother was one of those whom you spoke of, as never conversing with children in a rational and reasoning manner."
"I guessed as much," said Mrs. Spaulding. "I told you," she continued, "there was another point upon which I wished to say a few words to you. Can you think what it is?"
"I cannot," said Mary. "Nor I either," said Clara; "certainly, I see no harm in the words we uttered."
"True," responded Mrs. Spaulding, "there was no harm. It was not the words you spoke, but the tone in which they were spoken, that attracted my attention; as if you were glad to be able to point out somebody to whom the reproof could be applied. This failing is a common one, and our Savior may have had it in view, when he said to his followers, on the mount, 'Cast out the beam from thine own eye; and then shalt thou see clearly to cast the mote out of thy brother's eye.' My object now, my dear children, is to caution you against a failing, which is almost universal, namely, of seeing distinctly and reproving faults in others, while we appear to be quite unconscious that we ourselves are in the practice of the same or worse defects.
"This blemish develops itself in a variety of ways. The pastor preaches an excellent sermon, wherein is contained some allusion to faults which ought to be corrected. If the people had treasured up in their hearts all his exhortations, they would not have forgotten one which he has often endeavored to impress upon their minds; I mean, the duty of self-communion, self-examination; and when he should have occasion to allude to faults, they would, one and all, ask themselves, 'Am I guilty of this wrong? Let me see; and if I am, let me correct it in future.' Instead of this, how frequently do we hear such expressions as these: 'The remarks in the sermon this morning applied to Mr. A or Mrs. B, very well, and it is to be hoped they will see it, and profit by it.' Now if such individuals, instead of trying to find others who are guilty of the wrong indicated, would only carefully look within themselves, ten chances to one they would find that they deserved the rebuke as much as any one else.
"Children insensibly contract the same bad habit of looking very sharply for the faults of others, never once thinking that they may have some, which, if not precisely the same, may be even worse. Thus if the pastor, superintendent, or one of the teachers, addresses the Sabbath school, calling the attention of the scholars generally to any fault, each scholar ought to ask himself at once, 'Is it I?' and not look round complacently and ask, 'Who can it be?' or say, 'I guess the speaker means to refer to Lilly A or Edgar B.'"
"Well," said Mary, "I must confess that I have done this often, and without being conscious of any wrong feelings; some how or other, I did not consider that the reproof belonged to me; or ever ask myself if I had committed the fault which was exposed."
"For this reason, I remarked," continued Mrs. S., "that children insensibly contract this habit from their parents; and the defect extends to physical as well as moral errors. Not long since, I had an interesting conversation with Mr. R., a well-known philanthropist and physiologist, who is devoting his life to the alleviation of some of the ills of human existence. He told me that, a short time before, he delivered a lecture to parents on the physical training of their children, and pointed out the great mistakes which are often made. On retiring, said he, I overheard many remarks, but not one spoke as if I had addressed him. Every one could point to some one else who might well profit by the lecture; but not one would believe that I meant to say to each individual present, as Nathan said unto David, 'Thou art the man.'"
"I am sure," observed Clara, "I never felt the full force of this saying of our Savior before, although I have read it a hundred times. I shall read the whole chapter again, carefully, to-night."
"And so will I," added Mary.
"Do so, my children," said Mrs. S., "and read in the same careful spirit the whole Sermon on the Mount, and all our Savior's teachings. Many people, old and young, read the New Testament because they are told to, without thinking that there is an active, living principle in it, a thought to be treasured up and carried out in our daily lives, in almost every word the Master uttered. Those who do read it in the true spirit, find new pleasure and new instruction every time they peruse it.
"And finally, to come back to our subject, when you hear your schoolmates making uncharitable remarks about others, use all your influence, especially by your own example, to make them correct the habit. And when you hear a sermon in church, or an address in the school, where any faults are exposed, ask yourselves if the rebuke applies to you; and if it does, set about correcting the fault immediately. Do this always. 'Cast the beam out of thine own eye,' correct your own errors, then will you see clearly to 'cast the mote out of thy brother's eye.'"
Mary returned home that evening well pleased with the two conversations she had taken part in; and better still, she and Clara profited by them. I am happy to add, that their schoolmates are gradually correcting many evil habits by the good example of these two girls; and thus Mary and Clara have the double satisfaction of improving their own conduct, and of being instrumental in improving that of others.
BOYS BECOME MEN.
If you were to be boys always, and didn't need to know anything more than just enough to enable you to enjoy your sports from day to day, it would not be so necessary, perhaps, as it now is, to attend strictly to your every-day studies; though the influences of the Sunday school would be necessary, even then. Boys cannot enjoy their sports together, unless they are truthful, just, and kind; and it is in the Sunday school that these graces are most successfully acquired. But boys will become men; and all the knowledge they can acquire in boyhood will become serviceable in manhood. Therefore, boys should be diligent.
TO THE PORTRAIT OF FATHER BALLOU, HANGING IN MURRAY HALL.
O, much-loved features! Faithful counterpart Of one we love, and cherish, and revere; Thy gentle influence shed o'er every heart, And be thy spirit ever present here.
Look from thy quiet resting-place on us, With that familiar smile so dear to all, Which ever seems to speak of happiness, And every mourner would to hope recall.
Thro' childhood's sunny days and youth's bright morn, Mid changes and mid sorrows, thou hast been A light to guide, a hope to cheer and warm, And to the heart bring joy and peace again.
And for thine honored form how fit the place, Where childhood's ear instruction would receive; Preside o'er all, lend all our efforts grace, To learn God's love, and on his word believe.
Thy Master's faithful servant! Who, in love, Took little children in his arms to bless; While looking down from his bright home above, Through thee diffusing peace and holiness;
May his pure spirit ever with us dwell, Shedding o'er all our thoughts its heavenly ray; Our hearts attune the song of praise to swell, And o'er our darkness pour eternal day.
And when thou'rt left alone, to bear the name Of him whose faithful emblem thou art made, May thou through ages still endure the same, Though all around thee shall decay and fade.
May his dear memory, which through thee shall live Long in the places which his love has blest, Shine as a beacon, life and light to give, And hope at last in God's eternal rest.
SUSAN'S REPENTANCE AND APPEAL TO HER ELDER SISTER.
I once knew two sisters, the only companions of a widowed mother, who, though they had no relatives and but very few friends, and should therefore have been the more closely united in heart, were in the habit oftener of harshly rebuking and blaming, than of encouraging, assisting, and comforting each other. I often wondered at this, as they both had many estimable traits of character, and could only account for it, not excuse it, by the fact, that they had been much separated in early life, and, since their reunion, had had to encounter many obstacles, and bear the weight of many heavy disappointments. I confidently hoped and believed that the good sense of one or both of them, would in time lead them to see their error, and the sin of thus fretting and irritating each other. Nor was I disappointed. The younger, whose conscience was the most sensitive, first made the discovery, and immediately began trying to remedy the evil, and to induce her sister to aid her in the endeavor. Imagining some of her thoughts and feelings, I have put them in rhyme.
We have done wrong, dear sister; and I'm very sad to-day: For I have felt how far we've strayed from wisdom's blessed way; Have felt how much of angry strife hath dwelt within our hearts, And how, when that has entered in, Life's happiness departs.
We have done wrong, dear sister; for we have not patient been, But answered often hasty words by hasty words again; And when we should with gentle acts have soothed each other's care, We've made by cold indifference our lot more hard to bear.
We have done wrong, dear sister; I remember how we've grieved Our widowed mother's anxious heart, so long of joy bereaved; O, were we loving, good, and kind, and all our murmurings o'er, Might not the smiles come back again and light her face once more?