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he is in danger of serious injury, he may keep out of the way. If his father comes home intoxicated and offers violence to his mother, he may remonstrate with him; and, when worst comes to worst, restrain him by force, if he can. But he may not use any other personal violence; he may not rebuke him in language which he might use toward any other man, nor speak of him as he might if he were not his father. He may mourn over his fall in secret, and do all he can to reclaim him; but he may not forget that "he is bone of his bone and flesh of his flesh."

I have put this extreme case to guard those whom it may concern against the mistake, touching their duty, into which they are liable to fall. That a parent does not treat his children as he ought, does not exonerate them from their filial duties, of which reverence is

one.

Fourthly. The filial relation involves a great many duties to parents in after life; I mean after children are of age, leave home, and have families of their own to care for. A son is a son, a daughter is a daughter, as long as the parents live; and in poverty, sickness or old age, parents have claims upon their children for support, sympathy and "bearing their burdens," which can never be cancelled. I once knew a very rich man, the son of poor but respectable parents, who was reported to have said, "I wish I knew how much I owed them for my existence, that I might pay up the debt." Pay up the debt! What son ever did, or ever can? Pay his mother! Why, that, though infinitely less in degree, would be next to paying "Him in whom he lives and moves and has his being!" God never intended that children should be able in any way to cancel the obligation, as long as either parent lives. It is impossible.

Perhaps your parents are poor, and unable, in the decline of life, to support themselves. Many are; and to whom shall they look, if not to their children, for whose sake they cheerfully toiled and submitted to great personal privations in bringing them up? Perhaps you have a large family of your own, and think you have nothing to spare to help your father and mother. If so, you are greatly mistaken, so long as you have anything. Many have tried it, and found it easier to support two families than one; that is, they have got along better after providing for their aged parents than they did before. And, if it were not so, it is a burning shame for children to

shift off the burden upon to want any good thing.

others, or to leave either father or mother How much more criminal, in the sight of God, to let them suffer for want of the necessaries of life! What son or daughter, deserving the name, would not rather work harder, and put him or herself upon short allowance ?

Moreover, however independent parents may be in their worldly circumstances, when sick or laboring under infirmities incident to declining years, they need attentions and sympathies which children alone can give, attentions which could not be so gratefully administered by any other hand. It is not enough to see that they are well taken care of by others, when it is in your power to render them personal attentions. Where children live so near that they can run in every day almost, if only for a few moments, it is one of the filial duties, especially when parents are far advanced in life, and the world has gone by, and but few acquaintances are left to call and see how they do. In this country, I know, families are so widely dispersed, that children find it difficult, if not impracticable, to visit their parents very often; but it is their duty to make this their first care in visiting friends at a distance, and, if need be, to deny themselves other more pleasant excursions for the sake of it. And, the older and more infirm parents grow, the oftener ought their children to visit them.

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You must expect that, as the infirmities of age come on, and "the doors are shut in the streets, and the grasshopper becomes a burden," your parents will exact more from you than they did before they were shut up. They may at times forget that you have other duties, which you must not neglect; they may become so helpless and peevish that money would not hire you to take care of them; but it is your duty cheerfully to render them all the attentions and solaces in your power. It may cost you no little time and nursing and confinement. But what have they not done for you in your helpless infancy, and when you were sick? Think of a father's toils, so cheerfully undergone, when you could do nothing for yourselves; and of a mother's love, which "many waters cannot quench nor the floods drown." It is not uncommon for parents, in their last years of bodily infirmities and mental decay, to need attentions which money can hardly procure, and which, if it could, none can so soothingly render as dutiful sons and daughters.

And now, did space permit, all the duties involved in the filial

The fifth commandHonor thy father and

relation might be enforced by the most cogent motives and arguments. I can only glance at some of them. ment alone comprises more than a volume. thy mother, that thy days may be long upon the land which the Lord thy God giveth thee. In quoting this, the apostle Paul calls it the first commandment with promise. "That is," says Dr. Scott, in his admirable commentary, "being the first commandment of the second table, the first of the relative duties, and the source of all others." It is the only one in the decalogue to which a promise is annexed. This is remarkable. It shows what stress God lays upon the duties enjoined, and what reward he has annexed to the truly filial discharge of these duties.

The promise, indeed, does not insure long life to every one who obeys the command. Some of the most dutiful children die early. But it must mean that, as a general thing, such children will live longer, and enjoy more of the divine smiles in their temporal allotments, than any other class; and I am satisfied, from the observations of a long life and extended inquiries, that God makes his approbation and his frowns more strikingly visible upon obedience and disobedience to the fifth commandment than to any other. Woe to the son or the daughter who says to a father or a mother, "It is Corban, that is to say, a gift, by whatsoever thou mayest be profited by me." "Hearken unto thy father that begat thee, and despise not thy mother when she is old." "The eye that mocketh at his father, and scorneth to obey his mother, the ravens of the valley shall pick it out, and the young eagles shall eat it." "He that provideth not for his own, especially for those of his own house (undoubtedly, I think, including his parents, if they need help), hath denied the faith, and is worse than an infidel." I never knew or heard of a son's being impoverished by providing for his father and mother in their old age; but, on the other hand, cases might be indefinitely multiplied, where the more children have done for their parents, the more they have prospered. I do not say this as if it ought to be the chief motive to obedience and reverence. Certainly it ought not. Every filial duty should be discharged as a filial and religious obligation. Were there no promise annexed to the fifth commandment, it would be equally binding as it is now.

I shall close with two memorable examples, from the Scriptures, of the true filial spirit. The first is that of Solomon, the wisest and

one of the most illustrious kings that ever wore a crown. When Bathsheba came in to present a request from Adonijah, "the king rose up to meet her, and bowed himself unto her, and sat down on his throne, and caused a seat to be set for the king's mother, and she sat on his right hand."

The other example was that of a king infinitely greater than Solomon. When our Lord Jesus Christ hung in his dying agonies upon the cross, and saw his mother standing by with the disciple whom he loved, both overwhelmed with grief and amazement, "he said to his mother, Woman, behold thy son; and to the disciple, Behold thy mother." He could not die till he had secured a home for his mother; and from that hour that disciple took her to his own home."

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THE SPIRIT'S TRUST.

BY MARY A. COLLIER.

"The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want."- Ps. 23: 1.

Ir may be that a blight hath fallen
Upon thine earthly way;
Perchance thy fair and sunny morn
Hath proved a cloudy day.

It may be that a blasting storm
Among thy joys hath swept;
Or mildew, with its silent step,
Hath darkly o'er them crept.

It may be that remorseless death
Hath laid thy loved ones low,
And all around thy daily paths
The bitter waters flow.

O, wandering mortal wheresoe'er
Misfortune's blow hath sped,
Yet, as a plant to meet the sun,
Lift up once more thy head.

Only the Lord thy Leader make,
Thy shepherd and thy trust;
Good shall be thine forevermore,
Joy springing from the dust.

THE SPOILED PET.

BY REV. E. PORTER DYER.

A LOVING mother sat her down to knit the hours away,
What time the elm's long shadow from the sunset crept away;
'T was an afternoon in summer-time, the sash let in the air,

For a shower had shed fresh beauty and sweet fragrance everywhere,
When there came a little flaxen head and bent upon her knee,
And "Mother, mother, pray you look, why don't you look at me?
Say, mother, may I go alone among the grass and play?
The mother shook her silent head, and seemed to answer, Nay!

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But not a word she uttered then, for she was counting stitches,
And quite too much engaged to heed the little maiden's speeches;
So out her darling nimbly ran, and, as it came to pass,
Quite spoiled her little glossy shoes amid the dripping grass.

A half-hour passed quite rapidly, the knitting-work went on,

When this fond mother looked, and, lo! her darling child was gone. "Where can she be?" This way and that she runs, with anxious haste, Till, chin-deep in the mowing field, her babe she finds at last.

Yet not with word of wise rebuke, nor rod of stern reproof,
Does she instruct the child henceforth from wrong to stand aloof;

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But, "0, my little ducky dear, how very prone to err !

Poor little darling, dripping wet! how mother pities her!
Dear little chick, how wet and cold! run, Jane, and light a fire,

And mother 'll kiss her darling babe, and then sit down and dry her."
Now wherefore smiles that erring child with mischief in her eye?
Alas her guilt mistaken love has passed unheeded by.

Beware, fond mothers, how you deal with childhood's tender years;
Love, too indulgent, reaps at length a heritage of tears.

The words of wisdom still address all ages and all climes,
"He spares the rod who hates his son; love chastens him betimes!"
BETIMES! It trains the tender twig to shape the future tree,
Aware that as the tree should grow, so bent the twig must be.
Such love with that false clemency can ne'er be reconciled,
Which bids a mother spare the rod and spoil her erring child.

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