When I was in England, I read of a man who professed to be a
Christian, who was brought before the magistrate for not supporting
his aged father. He had let him go to the workhouse. My friends, I'd
rather be content with a crust of bread and a drink of water than let
my father or mother go to the workhouse. The idea of a professing
Christian doing such a thing! God have mercy on such a godless
Christianity as that! It is a withered up thing, and the breath of
heaven will drive it away. Don't profess to love God and do a thing
like that.
A friend of mine told me of a poor man who had sent his son to school
in the city. One day the father was hauling some wood into the city,
perhaps to pay his boy's bills. The young man was walking down the
street with two of his school friends, all dressed in the very height
of fashion. His father saw him, and was so glad that he left his wood,
and went to the sidewalk to speak to him. But the boy was ashamed of
his father, who had on his old working clothes, and spurned him, and
said:
"I don't know you."
Will such a young man ever amount to anything? Never!
I remember a very promising young man whom I had in the Sunday school
in Chicago. His father was a confirmed drunkard, and his mother took
in washing to educate her four children. This was her eldest son, and
I thought that he was going to redeem the whole family. But one day a
thing happened that made him go down in my estimation.
The boy was in the high school, and was a very bright scholar. One day
he stood with his mother at the cottage door--it was a poor house, but
she could not pay for their schooling, and feed and clothe her
children, and hire a very good house too, out of her earnings. When
they were talking a young man from the high school came up the street,
and this boy walked away from his mother. Next day the young man said:
"Who was that I saw you talking to yesterday?"
"Oh, that was my washerwoman."