ome almost a stranger to them?
or are you training them for God and righteousness?

The story is told that a man once said he would not talk to his son
about religion; the boy should make his own choice when he grew up,
unprejudiced by him. The boy broke his arm, and when the doctor was
setting it, he cursed and swore the whole time.

"Ah," said the doctor, "you were afraid to prejudice the boy in the
right way, but the devil had no such prejudice. He has led your son
the other way." The idea that a father is to let his children run
wild! Nature alone never brings forth anything but weeds.

One of Coleridge's friends once objected to prejudicing the minds of
the young by selecting the things they should be taught. The
philosopher-poet invited him to take a look at his garden, and took
him to where a luxuriant growth of ugly and infragrant weeds spread
themselves over beds and walks alike.

"You don't call that a garden!" said his friend.

"What!" said Coleridge, "would you have me prejudice the ground in
favor of roses and lilies?"

Have you never noticed the same thing about the mind and the heart?
Let a child be idle, and Satan will soon lead him into mischief. He
must be looked after. Those things that will help to develop
character must be selected for him, and hurtful things must be kept
out, just as industriously as the farmer cultivates the useful
products of the soil, but wages continual war on weeds and all
unwholesome growths.

A murderer was to suffer the penalty of his crime. Speaking of his
reckless career, he said:

"How could it be otherwise, when I had such bad training? I was
taught these things from my youth. When only four years old my
mother poured whisky down my throat to see how I would act."

On the morning of his execution, the wretched mother bade good-bye
to the son whom her influence had helped to that shameful end.

A father started for his office early one morning, after a light
fall of snow. Turning, he saw his two year-old boy endeavoring to
put his tiny feet in his own great footprints. The little fellow
shouted: "Go on, I'se comin', papa, I'se comin' right in ure
tracks."

He caught the boy in his arms and carried him to his mother, and
started again for his office.

His habit had been to stop on the way at a saloon for a glass of
liquor. As he stood upon the threshold that morning he seemed to
hear a sweet voice say: "Go on, I'se comin', papa, I'se comin' right
in ure t