faith:
it may be a matter of reason likewise; a thing which seems
reasonable to us, and recommends itself to our mind and conscience
as true.
Consider, my friends, a babe when it comes into the world. The
first thing of which it is aware is its mother's bosom. The first
thing which it does, as its eyes and ears are gradually opened to
this world, is to cling to its parents. It holds fast by their
hand, it will not leave their side. It is afraid to sleep alone, to
go alone. To them it looks up for food and help. Of them it asks
questions, and tries to learn from them, to copy them, to do what it
sees them doing, even in play; and the parents in return lavish care
and tenderness on it, and will not let it out of their sight. But
after a while, as the child grows, the parents will not let it be so
perpetually with them. It must go to school. It must see its
parents only very seldom, perhaps it must be away from them weeks or
months. And why? Not that the parents love it less: but that it
must learn to take care of itself, to act for itself, to think for
itself, or it will never grow up to be a rational human being.
And the parting of the child from the parents does not break the
bond of love between them. It learns to love them even better.
Neither does it break the bond of obedience. The child is away from
its parents' eye. But it learns to obey them behind their back; to
do their will of its own will; to ask itself, What would my parents
wish me to do, were they here? and so learns, if it will think of
it, a more true, deep, honourable and spiritual obedience, than it
ever would if its parents were perpetually standing over it, saying,
Do this, and do that.
In after life, that child may settle far away from his father's
home. He may go up into the temptations and bustle of some great
city. He may cross to far lands beyond the sea. But need he love
his parents less? need the bond between them be broken, though he
may never set eyes on them again? God forbid. He may be settled
far away, with children, business, interests of his own; and yet he
may be doing all the while his father's will. The lessons of God
which he learnt at his mother's knee may be still a lamp to his feet
and a light to his path. Amid all the bustle and labour of
business, his father's face may still be before his eyes, his
father's voice still sound in his ears, bidding him be a worthy son
to him still; bidding him not to
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