God, the baptized sustain a different relation to his church from that
of others. They are members of the visible church. Their names are
enrolled among God's preferred people. They have a place in the
sanctuary of which David sung, "How amiable are thy tabernacles, O Lord
of hosts." Nor is _this relation_ without its benefits. They are brought
thereby within the supervision and nurture of the church. They become
the subjects of her care, instruction and discipline. In addition to
household privileges, to the prayers, examples and labors of pious
parents, they have a special claim to the prayers and efforts of the
church. They are remembered as "the sons and daughters of Zion." "For
them the public prayer is made." They can be interceded for not only as
needing the grace of God, but as authorized to expect it in virtue of
their covenant with him. With all faith and hope may they be brought to
the throne of mercy as those of whom God has said, "_I will be their
God._" They may claim, too, as they ought to receive, a special
solicitude on the part of ministers, officers and members of the church,
in their instruction, and in the tender interest which those of the same
body should feel in each other. They are to be watched over, sought out
and cared for in private and in public; to be borne with in their
weakness and reclaimed in their wanderings. They are "Lambs" of the
flock, dear to the good Shepherd, and to be loved and labored for,
therefore, for his sake. Though they become openly wicked it is not
beyond the province of the church to rebuke them for their sins, warn
them of their danger, and by all the moral means in her power to seek
for their reformation. And these considerations are fraught with
benefit. It was the lament of one of old, a lament that may be taken up
by numbers in our day--"No man careth for my soul." But the church does
care for the souls of her baptized children. She recognizes them as
within her pale, provides in her standards for their nurture, and though
not faultless in her treatment of them, she does seek their improvement,
through the influence of her ministers, and by urging upon parents their
responsibility.--There is in these facts, moreover, a tendency to draw
them to the church, to bring them within hearing of the Gospel and
within the scope of its ordinances. They will be attracted to the
sanctuary of their fathers and attached to the faith and worship of
those among whom they have been solemnly dedicated to God. How often in
after years do we in fact see them coming themselves and esteeming it a
privilege to bring their own children to receive, as they have received,
the seal of the covenant!--The baptized are, further, candidates for all
the immunities of Christ's house. They may come to the Lord's table as
soon as they have attained to the requisite knowledge and piety. It is a
distinguished honor, and exalted privilege, to be a guest at Christ's
table, to partake of that feast which is a type of the marriage supper
of the Lamb, and to this they are invited whenever they are ready
publicly to avow their faith and love as his professed disciples. They
are for the present excluded, as children in their minority are
forbidden to exercise the rights of citizens; or rather in virtue of
their power to discipline, as well as instruct, the officers of the
church may exclude them, like other unworthy members, from the
communion. But it is the aim and desire of the church that they may
speedily acquire the knowledge, faith and godliness that shall qualify
them for this delightful service.--Now, all this is happy in its
tendency and beneficial in its effects. It is a high honor to sustain a
covenant relation to God, and to be favored with the peculiar regard of
his people. It is a privilege to stand in a different relation to the
church of Christ from that of a mere heathen, and to share in the kind
offices and be objects of the prayers of those who are "the excellent of
the earth," and whose intercession availeth much. It is a blessing to be
under influences adapted to counteract the power of an evil heart and an
evil world, and thus be made meet for the glories of Christ's kingdom.
And though the baptized may be, in fact often are, insensible to these
benefits, they do in themselves constitute their choicest mercies. If
valued and improved, they will become effectual for their salvation. And
should they be brought ultimately to share in the blessings of this
covenant, they will praise God for the agency it exerted, and adore the
wisdom and beneficence of its arrangements.
* * * * *
Original.
THE WASTED GIFT; OR, "JUST A MINUTE."
"Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it with all thy
might."--ECCLESIASTES 9:10.
"Dear mother," said little Emily Manvers, as she turned over the leaves
of an elegant annual which she had just received, "Is not uncle Albert
very kind to send me this beautiful book? I wonder sometimes that he
gives me such costly presents, but I suppose it is because he sees me so
careful of my gifts."
Mrs. Manvers smiled. "That speech sounds rather egotistic, my dear. Do
you really think you are such a _very_ careful little girl?"
"I am sure, mother," replied Emily, coloring slightly, "that I take more
care of my things than many other girls I know. There is my wax doll, I
have had three years, and she is not even soiled; and that handsome
paint-box uncle gave me a year ago this Christmas, is in as good order
as ever, though I have used it a great deal; there is not one paint lost
or broken, and the brushes and crayons are all safe and perfect."
"That is as it should be, my daughter," returned Mrs. Manvers, "for
even in small things, we should use our gifts as not abusing them; but
what will you say when I tell you that you possess a treasure of
inestimable value, which you often misuse sadly, and neglect most
heedlessly,--a gift that properly employed will procure wonderful
privileges, but which I sometimes fear you will never learn to value
until you are about to lose it forever."
"Why, mother, what _can_ you mean!" exclaimed Emily, in astonishment.
"It can't be that costly fan cousin Henry sent me from India, that was
broken when I laid it down just a minute, instead of putting it
immediately away, or do you mean my pet dove that I sometimes have not a
minute's time to feed in the morning; you cannot surely think that I
will let it starve."
"No, Emily," answered the mother, "it is something far more precious
than either, although by your own admission you have two gifts of which
you are not at all careful. But I fear that if I tell you what the
treasure is, I shall fail in making you see clearly how much you misuse
it; I will therefore keep a little memorandum of your neglect and
ill-usage of it for one week, and that I hope will make you more careful
in future. I will begin on Monday, as to-morrow, being the Sabbath, I
have this gift of yours more under my immediate care."
Emily wondered very much what this wonderful treasure could be that she
used so badly, and puzzled her brain the whole evening in guessing, but
her mother told her to have patience, and in a week she would find out.
Emily Manvers was a kind, amiable little girl, between ten and eleven
years old; she was dutiful and obedient, but had an evil habit of
procrastination, which her mother had tried in vain to overcome. It was
always "time enough" with Emily to do everything, and consequently her
lessons were frequently imperfect, and her wardrobe in a sad state, as
Mrs. Manvers insisted upon her daughter sewing on strings, and hooks and
eyes, when they were wanting, thus endeavoring to instill early habits
of neatness. "Put not off till to-morrow what should be done to-day,"
was a copy the little girl frequently wrote, but she never allowed its
meaning to sink into her heart. It was this truth which her mother hoped
now to teach her.
On Monday morning, Emily jumped up as soon as her mother called her, and
seated herself on a low stool to put on her shoes and stockings; there
was a story book lying upon the table, and as her eyes fell on it, she
began to think over all the stories it contained, (some of them quite
silly ones, I am sorry to say,) and pulling her night-dress over her
feet, sat thinking about worse than nothing, until her mother opened the
bed-room door, and exclaimed in surprise,
"What! not dressed yet, Emily! It is full fifteen minutes since I called
you."
"I will be dressed directly, mother," said she, jumping up quite
ashamed, and she hurriedly put on her clothes, brushed her hair and
prepared for breakfast.
After breakfast she had to look over her lessons, but remembering her
mother's remarks, she stole a few minutes to feed her doves, and then
hurried to school afraid of being late. On her return home in the
afternoon, her mother told her to mend her gloves, which she had torn.
Emily went to her work-basket, but could not find her thimble.
"Where can my thimble be?" she cried, after looking two or three minutes
for it. "Oh, I remember now; I left it on the window sill," and off she
ran to get it.
She was gone some time, and on her return her mother asked, "Couldn't
you find your thimble, Emily?"
"Yes, mamma, but James and George were flying their kites, so I stopped
just a minute to look at them. I will sit down now."
She opened her work-box and took out a needle, then looking about said,
"Why, where is my cotton spool? I left it on the chair a minute ago."
She moved the chairs, turned up the hearth-rug, and tumbled over her
work-box in vain; the cotton could not be found. Presently she espied
puss, under the sofa, busily employed tossing something about with her
paw.
"Oh, you naughty kitty, _you_ have got my spool," cried Emily, as she
stooped down and caught hold of the thread which puss had entangled
about the sofa legs; but kitty was in a playful mood and would not give
up the cotton-spool at once, so Emily amused herself playing with the
cat and thread for some time longer. At last, she remembered her gloves,
and sitting down mended them in a few moments.
Had Emily's mother told her that she looked at her watch when the little
girl first went for the thimble, and that she had passed exactly
three-quarters of an hour in idleness, she would not have credited it.
After a while Mrs. Manvers sent Emily up stairs to get something for
her. She stayed so long that her mother called, "Emily, what keeps you
so?"
"Nothing, mamma; I stopped just a minute to look at my new sash, it is
so pretty."
Ten minutes more were added to the wasted time. The next day Emily came
home from school without any ticket for punctuality.
"How is this?" asked the mother; "you started from home in good time?"
"Yes, mother," returned the little girl, "but I stopped just a minute to
speak to Sarah Randall, and I know our school-clock must be wrong, for
it was half-past nine by it when I went in."
Mrs. Manvers took the trouble to walk around to the school and compare
her watch with the clock; they agreed exactly, and thus she found her
daughter had wasted half an hour that morning.
"Do you know your lessons, Emily?" she asked, after her return, as the
little girl had been sitting for more than an hour with her books upon
her lap.
"Not quite, mother."
"Have you been studying all the time, my dear?"
"Pretty near; there was a man beating his horse dreadfully, and I just
looked out of the window a minute."
Mrs. Manvers smiled, and yet sighed, for she knew that Emily had spent
half an hour humming a tune and gazing idly from the window upon the
passers by.
TO BE CONTINUED.
* * * * *
Original.
A CHILD'S READING.
In this day of books, when so many pens are at work writing for
children, and when so many combine instruction with entertainment, every
family should be, to some extent, a reading family. Books have become
indispensable; they are a kind of daily food; and we take for granted
that no parent who reads this Magazine neglects to provide aliment of
this nature for his family. How many leisure hours may thus be turned to
profitable account! How many useful ideas and salutary impressions may
thus be gained which will never be lost! If any family does not know the
pleasure and the benefit of such employment of a leisure hour, we advise
them to make the experiment forthwith. The district library, the
Sabbath-school or village library in almost every town afford the
facilities necessary for the experiment. But my object is not so much to
induce any to form the _taste_ for reading, for who, now a-days, does
not read? nor is it to write a dissertation on the pleasures and
advantages of reading; but simply to suggest a few plain hints upon the
_subject matter_ and the _manner_ of reading.
And, in the first place, the parent should know _what_ his child reads.
The book is the companion or teacher. Parent, would you receive into
your family a playmate or a teacher of whose tastes and habits and moral
character you were ignorant? Would you admit them for one day in such a
capacity without having previously ascertained as far as possible their
qualifications for such an intimate relationship to your child? But
remember that the book has great influence. It puts a great many
thoughts into the mind of the young reader, to form its tastes and make
lasting impressions; and how can you be indifferent to this matter, when
our land is flooded with so many vicious and contaminating books; when
they come, like the frogs of Egypt, into every house and bed-chamber,
and even into the houses of the servants! A single book may ruin your
child! You yourself may not be proof against evil thoughts and corrupt
principles. Look well, then, to the thoughts that come into your child's
mind from such a companion or teacher of your child as a printed book,
having perhaps all the fascination of a story or a romance. And,
besides, there are so many volumes that are tried and proved, and
acceptable to all, that there can be no excuse for admitting into your
family any which are even of a doubtful character. And do not merely
exercise supervision over the books which come to you and _ask_
admission. Avail yourself of the best means of information, and _choose_
the _best books_; I mean those best adapted to your purpose. Do not get
too many, but make a _choice selection_. Judge whether your child can
comprehend what you put into its hand; whether it is fitted to convey
instruction, or wholesome entertainment, or right moral impressions. If
it can do neither of these, it will be either an idle or a vicious
companion for your child, and you should exclude it at once.
But, furthermore, see in _what manner_ the book is read. Draw out the
thoughts of your child upon it; ascertain whether it has been read
understandingly and is remembered. In this way you will strengthen the
power of attention and of memory and judgment, and exercise also the
power of language, by drawing out an expression of thought. In this way
reading will be doubly interesting, and will be an invigorating exercise
without overloading and clogging all the powers of thought.
But, one thing more: Is your child inclined to pore over its books _too
much_? Be careful, lest its mind be over-stimulated at the expense of
the body. Many a child is at this hour undermining its physical
constitution by reading in the house, when it should be playing out of
doors, or using its muscular system in some kind of domestic employment.
Beware of any cause which shall induce a sickly precocity or a hotbed
mental growth. Let no partiality for mental prodigies induce you to make
_physical invalids_. The sacrifice is too great; seek rather a healthy
and complete development of the whole child, watching each power as it
unfolds, and training all for the most efficient fulfillment of the
practical duties of life.
* * * * *
NOTICES OF BOOKS.
We venture to devote more space than usual to "Notices of Books," as we
have a large number on our table deserving a word of commendation. We
shall confine ourselves to the class of works of which the topics of
consideration come within the scope of this magazine.
MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE AND TRIALS OF A YOUTHFUL CHRISTIAN, in Pursuit of
Health, as developed in the Biography of NATHANIEL CHEEVER, M.D. By Rev.
HENRY T. CHEEVER. With an Introduction by Rev. GEORGE B. CHEEVER, D.D.
New York: Charles Scribner.
We have laid down this book, after attentive perusal, with the feeling
that among the many things to be learned from it, one stands prominently
forth,--_the beauty of family affection in a Christian household_. "To
our _Beloved_ and _Honored_ MOTHER, these Memorials of her
Youngest Son are affectionately Dedicated." Here we stand at the
foundation stone, and are not surprised afterward to see taking their
place in the fair edifice of family love, "stones polished after the
similitude of a palace."
The history presented in this memoir has no startling incidents. The
subject of it, a beautiful and promising boy, full of life and
happiness, is suddenly smitten with a disease which hangs like an
incubus upon his progress through life, and terminates his course just
after he has entered successfully on the practice of the medical
profession, in the island of Cuba, led, as he had previously been, on
repeated voyages across the ocean, by the hope of permanent benefit from
change of climate. Scattered through the book are descriptions of
scenery, observations on men and manners, and pleasant narratives, which
give variety to its pages, but its charm rises in the character of
uncommon loveliness which it presents; in the unvarying cheerfulness and
patience with which the young sufferer met pain, disappointment of
cherished plans of life, defeat and delay in his efforts for
intellectual improvement, separation from the friends to whom his
sensitive spirit clung with a tenacity of affection which is often
developed by suffering, but which seems to have been an original element
in his nature; years of banishment from the home circle, and at last,
_death_, away from every friend, on the ocean, which he was struggling
to cross once more that he might breathe his last sigh on his mother's
bosom. The conscientiousness, the integrity, the simplicity of this
young Christian are as beautiful to contemplate as his elasticity of
spirit, his cheerful submission, and his resolute determination to be
all that, with the shattered materials, he was capable of making
himself. His patient efforts, retarded by his severe sufferings, to
educate himself, and acquire a profession, are touching and instructive,
though few, who have not experienced the slow martyrdom of chronic
disease, can fully appreciate his energy, or sympathize with his
difficulties. Better than all this is his unwavering trust in God, from
his boyhood to the day of his early death. Here was the secret of his
joyfulness. His biographer well remarks, "Beyond all doubt the
inalienable treasure and guarantee of cheerfulness, being
reconciliation to God, was in that heart, whose pulsations are still
beating in the leaves of this book. In his sky the star of hope was
always in the ascendant. The aspect which life had to him,
notwithstanding all his suffering, was green and cheerful. He was wont
to view things on the sunny side, or if a cloud intervened to look
beyond it."
Such a cheerfulness, so based, is worth more than "silver and gold." We
commend the book to the attention of our readers, as a beautiful
illustration of early and consistent piety.
* * * * *
POETRY FOR CHILDREN.
_Mrs. Whittelsey_:--"The influence of poetry," says another, "in forming
the moral character, and guiding the thoughts of children, is immense.
How often has a simple couplet made an indelible impression on their
memories, and been the means of shaping their conduct for life! It
cannot be a matter of indifference, then, whether the poetry they read
and hear be good or bad, healthful or poisonous. And every parent should
see that it be of the former kind; such as not only to cultivate the
taste, but such as will form the character and mould the heart to all
that is holy and excellent."
These thoughts have come up to my mind with strong interest, since I
have lately examined a little work published by Mr. M.W. Dodd of your
city, entitled, "Select Poetry for Children and Youth," a book worthy to
be in every family, and possessed by every mother in the land. It is
full of just the kind of poetry to interest children deeply, and profit
them truly; and is such a work as every parent may safely and wisely
introduce to his household. As a parent, I have taken it home, and read
it to my own family circle, and have found all, from oldest to youngest,
absorbed in attention to its choice selections, which are from such
writers as Mary Howitt, Jane Taylor, Mrs. Hemans, Cowper, &c., &c., &c.
And I am persuaded that if other parents will make the same experiment,
they will find it attended with the same result.
And now, in conclusion, as a parent who has always taken your excellent
Magazine, and who through it would speak to parents, let me ask, Ought
we not to be more careful as to the reading of our children--more
careful that the couplets they learn, and the little ballads they hear,
and the verses they commit to memory, are such as they ought to be?
Lessons from such sources will leave a deep and lasting impression long
after we are silent in the grave! The verses which the writer was taught
by a pious mother, in early days, are all vividly remembered, and
probably will be while life shall last. And if every parent would seek
to make _verses_ the vehicle of instruction to the young (for children
delight in _poetry_ earlier than in prose), they might easily implant
the seeds of virtue and piety that would never be lost, but that in due
season would spring up and bear fruit an hundred-fold to eternal life.
A PARENT.
* * * * *
Original.
THE MOTHERS OF THE BIBLE.
THE MOTHERS OF ISRAEL AT HOREB.
We beg those readers of this Magazine who have had the patience to
follow us thus far in our study, now to open their Bibles with an
earnest invocation of the aid of that Spirit who indited the sacred
pages, and so far from being satisfied with the meager thoughts which we
are able to furnish, we entreat that they will bend diligently to the
work of ascertaining the real interest which we and all the mothers of
earth have in the scenes which transpired at the foot of Horeb's holy
mount. To the instructions there uttered, the mighty ones of every
age,--the founders of empires, statesmen, law-givers, philanthropists,
patriots, and wise men, have sought for their noblest conceptions, and
their most beneficent regulations, and it would be impossible to
estimate the influence of those instructions upon all the after history
of the world. But if the Almighty there revealed himself as the God of
kingdoms, the all-wise and infinitely good Ruler of men in a national
capacity, not less did He make himself known as the God of the family,
and his will there made known regulating the mutual relations of parents
and children, has been at once the foundation and bulwark of all that
has been excellent or trustworthy in family government from that day to
this.
It is impossible, in the brief space allotted to us, that we should
begin to give any adequate view of the subject which here opens before
us, or follow out fully a single one of the many trains of thought to
which it gives rise.
At Horeb, Jehovah, amid fire and smoke, and in that voice which so
filled with terror all that heard, first inculcated the duty of filial
piety on all the future generations of men. Filial piety! how much it
implies. It stands at the head of the duties enjoined from man to man.
It comes next in order to those which man owes to his Maker. It
inculcates on the part of children toward their parents feelings akin to
those which he has required toward Himself, and far surpassing any which
he demands toward any other human being. It speaks of reverence, of a
love superior to ordinary affection, of unqualified submission and
obedience. "Honor thy father and thy mother" is the solemn command, and
the comments which infinite wisdom has made on it, scattered up and down
on the pages of inspiration, throw light on its length and breadth, and
on the heinous nature of the sin which is committed in its infringement.
"Ye shall fear every man his mother and his father, and keep my
Sabbaths; I am the Lord." In the Jewish law, a man who smote his
neighbor must be smitten in return; but "he that smiteth father or
mother shall be surely put to death." "He that curseth," or as it more
exactly reads, "he that disparages or speaks lightly of his parents, or
uses contemptuous language to them, shall surely be put to death." "If a
man have a stubborn and rebellious son, which will not obey the voice of
his father or the voice of his mother, and who when they have chastised
him will not hearken unto them, then shall his father and his mother lay
hold of him and bring him to the elders of the city, and unto the gate
of his place. And they shall say unto the elders of the city, This, our
son, is stubborn and rebellious; he will not obey our voice. And all the
men of his city shall stone him with stones that he die; so shall thou
put away evil from among you, that all Israel shall hear and fear."
Still more fearful is the practical commentary upon this solemn command,
given in Ezekiel 22:7, when Jehovah, in enumerating the crying sins
which demanded his vengeance on the people, and brought upon them the
terrible calamities of long captivity says, "In thee have they set light
by father and mother."