"Honor thy father and thy mother."
"Well, Clara," said Mary, as they left the church, "shall we go now and
take a walk before we go home? Look, there are William Johnson and
George Field waiting to see which way we shall turn, in order to
accompany us."
"Not this afternoon," answered Clara, "I think we had better go home."
They continued their way homeward until they reached the street where
Clara lived, and were about to part, when Mary asked her companion at
what time she would meet her the next morning to take a long walk,
adding that William and George would go with them.
"I will ask mother," replied Clara, "and if she is willing, I will meet
you at six o'clock."
"How is this," said Mary, "you never used to say you would ask your
mother; besides, there can be no possible objection to our going to take
a walk."
"True," rejoined Clara, "there can be no objection to our taking a walk;
but we have never told our mothers that William and George are in the
habit of going with us."
"Well, I don't see any _great_ harm in their going with us," continued
Mary, with a tone which indicated that she did not see _any_ harm
_whatever_ in it.
"Perhaps there is not, and yet, Mary, I have thought that there might
be; therefore, I prefer to speak to my mother about it."
"And pray, Miss Clara, what has made you so conscientious all at once?"
"I will tell you, Mary. You recollect that on the last Sabbath, our
pastor took for his text, the fifth commandment."
"Yes, I do."
"Well, something which he said, caused me to think more about these
words than I ever did before; and the more I think of them, the more
convinced I am, that we do not consider and reflect upon them so much as
we ought to."
"Let me see," said Mary, "Honor thy father and thy mother;"--"Well, I
am sure I do honor my father and my mother; I obey them when they give
me a command, and I love them with all my heart. What more can I do?"
"So I reasoned before, but when I sat down alone in my chamber, a good
many things came to my mind, to convince me that I was wrong."
"Well," added Mary, "let me have the benefit of your reflections."
"Why, in this very instance of going to walk, I had always asked my
mother's consent, and she had given it; but I never told her where we
went, or who went with us, which now appears to me wrong. Our mothers
are much older than we are, and have had much more experience than we
have, and there _may_ be wrong in doing what appears to us quite
harmless."
"For the life of me," interrupted Mary, "I cannot think there can
possibly be any harm in such a slight occurrence. However, say nothing
to your mother to-night; but go with us to-morrow morning, and then you
can mention it to her, and see what she says."
"I beg your pardon, Mary; but you said just now, you could not see what
possible harm there could be in so slight an occurrence, and yet your
request to put off mentioning this to my mother, shows that you have
some misgivings on the subject."
Mary reflected for a moment. "Clara," said she, "if you have no
objection, I will go home with you, and hear what your mother will say."
"I shall be delighted to have you," was the answer.
Mary Winthrop and Clara Spaulding had arrived at the ages of fourteen
and fifteen years, a time of life which is peculiarly critical for
girls. At no age do they more require the advice of a mother, and at no
age are they less inclined to seek it. This would seem to be a natural
disinclination, so prevalent is it. These were both good girls, but, as
may be judged from the conversation we have just related, Clara was the
more thoughtful, while Mary was very apt to act without much reflection.
She possessed, however, this noble trait; she was always ready to
acknowledge her error, when it was pointed out to her, and would
endeavor to avoid repeating it.
Mrs. Spaulding had reached home when the girls entered. She was a woman
of excellent sense, and a mother indeed to her children. Mary frankly
told her all the conversation which had passed between Clara and
herself, and then waited for her opinion.
"It makes me truly happy," said Mrs. S., "that you have come to me in
this free and open manner; and I am very glad that my dear Clara has
reflected so much upon the text. In itself, there is not much harm in
taking a walk with William Johnson and George Field, and yet it is not
proper for you to do so, without the knowledge and consent of your
parents. William and George are not bad boys, and perhaps would be
called by people generally, good ones; still, I have remarked a certain
levity in their manner, which if only occasional, might be called good
humor, but which, recurring as it does at all times and on all
occasions, the Sabbath not excepted, makes me fear that their training
at home is not what I should desire to have it. For this reason, Mary, I
am not willing that Clara should be often in their company, nor do I
think your mother would differ from me, should you ask her."
"I wonder," said Mary, "how Clara came to think of this slight
circumstance of a walk, in connection with the commandment, 'Honor thy
father and thy mother.'"
"I thought she had sufficiently explained that, herself," replied Mrs.
Spaulding. "I wish both of you, and not only you, but all young persons,
would think a good deal more on this subject. I remember when I was of
your age, that many things occurred which I omitted to mention to my
mother, but which it would have been much better for me, if I had told
her. Sometimes these concerned my bodily health, and I am sure that if I
had informed her of them at the time, I should now have a much better
constitution than I possess. At other times, I neglected to ask her
advice about what I thought were small matters; but the result proved
that I should have been saved much trouble had I consulted her."
"In fact," continued Mrs. S., "the command to honor thy father and thy
mother, is far more comprehensive, and exacts many more duties, than the
young, and, I am sorry to say, the old too, are willing to recognize.
The young are too apt to think, when they get into their teens, that
there are a great many things about which there is no need of asking
their parents' advice and counsel; that they know, _then, about_ as well
as their parents what they ought to do; and, by the time they get to be
eighteen or nineteen years of age, _a good deal better_. But, my dear
children, it is not so. And the young who reason and act thus, will soon
cease to honor their father and mother. No! The Almighty Father, in
giving this as one of the ten commandments to the children of Israel,
knew the vanity of our nature. He knew how unwilling the young are to
learn from the experience of the old, and he therefore proclaimed this
command, that they might have it constantly before their eyes.
"I have said, this is a comprehensive command. To honor thy father and
thy mother is not merely to show them outward respect. It embraces
numberless duties, and among them this; the duty, while you are young,
of doing nothing without their knowledge and consent, when you are in a
situation to ask it.
"Be assured of one thing. If you are about to go anywhere, or do
anything, and a doubt arises in your mind whether it is necessary to ask
your mother's permission, be certain that you ought to ask it. The very
doubt in your own mind is sufficient evidence of the fact.
"Get into the habit of talking with your mother upon every subject; your
diversions, your studies, your health. Never conceal anything from her.
Is she not your mother? Did she not give you being? Who then shall you
look up to, if not to her?"
"O," interrupted Mary, "I have sometimes begun to talk to my mother
about many things which I did not exactly understand, but somehow or
other she was not willing to answer my questions."
"Perhaps," said Mrs. Spaulding, "you did not take a proper occasion, or
she may have been very busy about something else. You ought always to
endeavor to take a proper time for everything. At the same time," she
continued, "I am sorry to say that there are some mothers who think
children cannot be talked to, and reasoned with, till they are of age.
This is a mistaken idea. Children have reasoning faculties, and the
sooner we begin to converse with them accordingly, the sooner will those
faculties be developed. With this view, we ought always to encourage
them to give us their confidence on all occasions, gratify their
curiosity, and allow them to talk upon every subject to us. If we do not
act thus, they will soon abstain from that frank manner with which
children ought always to lay open their whole hearts to their parents."
"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."