Common trials need not be named:
we allude only to a few of those that are most severe.
Take then first, the trial of leaving friends.
The Saviour says, “He that loveth father or
mother more than me is not worthy of me, and he that
loveth son or daughter more than me is not worthy
of me.” The plain meaning is, to be Christians,
our love to Christ must be supreme. Now, if it
is supreme, it will show itself to be so in our conduct.
There is full room, even at the present day, for a
practical test of this condition of discipleship.
Not only is the spirit of this passage required,
but in many cases, a literal compliance with
the identical things named in it. This saying
of our Saviour has been too much forgotten. Like
some other important sayings of our Lord, it has been
virtually expunged. It has been regarded as applying
only to apostolic times to times of persecution.
This is a wide mistake. If all nations are to
be enlightened by the use of means, there must be
a practical exhibition among Christians at the present
time, and in all time to come, of a love to Christ
superior to the love which we owe to father, mother,
son or daughter. And this love is not spoken
of as a high attainment in piety, but as an indispensable
condition of discipleship. The missionary enterprise
presents many instances of stern necessity to test
and exhibit this principle.
The occasion most familiar to the
general reader, and the one best appreciated by him,
is the time when missionaries go forth to the heathen.
They are compelled to break away from almost every
tie. The strength of attachment to all that is
dear on earth, is a feeling that may be experienced,
and can be imagined too, in part, but can never be
described. There are a thousand ties, and tender
ties too, that must be sundered. The loved scenes
of childhood and youth, and scenes of sacred peace
and pleasure that cluster about the sanctuary, the
conference-room and the praying circle, must all receive
a parting thought. Friends dear friends
and connections, must receive a last adieu and a lingering
look. But O how keen the sensation when the last
sigh, the last tear, and the last embrace is to be
exchanged with father and mother, brother and sister when
all the touching associations of kindred and home
are for once revived to be dismissed forever!
Imagine not that the sensibilities
of missionaries are less exquisite than those of other
persons. The pangs they endure are indeed alleviated
by soothing considerations drawn from the Gospel; but
they are, notwithstanding, deep deeper
than the looker-on may at first suppose.
There may be some persons I
have heard of such who misrepresent the
feelings and motives of missionaries in leaving their
friends; who impute to them cold hearts and a bluntness
of sensibility; who say that they are wanting in filial
devotion, and can therefore leave aged parents to
droop and die: that they have a small share of
fraternal affection, and that it is therefore they
can break away from the embrace of brothers and sisters,
and leave them in anguish and in tears. All these
remarks are sometimes made, and perhaps oftener secretly
indulged, than openly expressed. It is often
that the missionary is not allowed to take his leave
merely with a bleeding heart and a soul gushing with
emotion, but is compelled to endure a keener anguish:
that of knowing that the course he is taking, agonizing
as it is, is imputed by some to a want of sensibility;
to a destitution of the finer, tenderer, and more
delicate feelings, that adorn society, and that make
families lovely and happy. Here then are trials:
such, however, as he must cheerfully meet for Christ’s
sake.
But the separation from home, with
its numerous and nameless endearments, and at the
risk of misrepresentation, is but the first lesson
of obedience. That person whose love to Christ
is so weak as to fail here on the threshold, would
give but poor evidence of being prepared for similar
and severer trials in prospect. The main
occasion for exemplifying the spirit of the Saviour’s
words to which we have alluded, is on heathen ground,
when stern necessity calls upon parents to make the
best disposition in their power in regard to their
own children. This is an occasion not so well
understood by the Christian community as the one I
have noticed. The difficulties in the way of
properly training children on heathen ground are not
clearly seen; neither are all the objections appreciated
which attend the usual alternative, that of sending
them to a Christian land. These are the occasions
of trial, compared with which all other sufferings
of the missionary are scarcely worthy of being named.
They are trials, however, that must be met, not evaded;
for the Saviour says, “He that loveth son or
daughter more than me is not worthy of me.”
They must be cheerfully met, and counted “all
joy,” or we cannot claim the spirit of the first
disciples.
There are those, I know, who would
relieve this subject at once by proposing the celibacy
of missionaries; but the argument of such persons
can hardly be deemed worth considering, till they shall
know a little more “what they say, and whereof
they affirm.” Celibacy for ministers at
home would be a much more proper and expedient arrangement,
than for missionaries in most foreign fields.
And one would think that the experience of the church,
from the days of the apostles till now, had taught
us enough to silence at once any such proposition,
and to place it forever at rest. Were it in place
for me, I could give reasons here to the heart’s
content: but I deem it more prudent to forbear.
The DIFFICULTIES in the way of training
children on heathen ground, cannot all be named; and
fewer still can be justly appreciated by those who
have never made the attempt. What I shall say
will apply particularly to barbarous and degraded
nations, such as the Sandwich Islanders once were;
for it is to such nations that the missionary’s
eye should be specially directed.
I shall mention first, the difficulty
of keeping children from the pollutions and vices
of the heathen. Children have eyes, and among
the heathen what do they see? I need only refer
you to the knowledge you already possess of the naked
condition, vile habits, and gross vices of a barbarous
people. There is much in heathen society which
cannot be described, but which children must more
or less witness. The state of things, in this
respect, is very much improved at the Sandwich Islands;
but I refer to that condition in which they once were to
that condition in which all barbarous nations are,
without the light of the Gospel. Imagine then
to yourself this feature of heathen society, and then
repeat the inquiry, What do children see?
Again, children have ears, and they
cannot be so effectually closed as to be kept from
learning in some measure the language of the heathen.
And if they become acquainted with the language of
the heathen, what do they hear day after day?
In many a pagan country they are liable to hear disputes,
contentions, revilings, execration and blasphemy; but
what is more, they are liable to hear in familiar,
unblushing and open conversation, words and phrases
which are not so much as to be named. The heathen
have no forbidden words in their language. Every
term is liable to be brought into public and frequent
use without the least sense of impropriety.
On account of this pernicious example
and vile conversation, many missionaries, where it
is practicable, make walls about their houses, and
endeavor by strict inclosures to prevent their children
from having intercourse with the natives. This
can be done in some places, and to some degree, while
children are young; but when they are somewhat grown
up, it is preposterous to think of keeping them within
inclosures. And as soon as they are out of their
inclosures, there are a thousand pitfalls ready for
their feet, on the right hand and on the left.
How much solicitude was felt by Abraham and Isaac
for their children, on account of the heathen population
which surrounded them. This pernicious influence,
better imagined than described, and still better seen
than imagined, is one of the reasons which lead missionaries
to undergo the agony of separation, and to send their
children to a Christian land. This evil at the
Sandwich Islands is much diminished, but not so much
so as may at first glance be supposed from the progress
in Christianity which has been made, and from the
powerful revivals which have here been experienced.
Again it must be remarked, that children
trained up on heathen shores are in danger of contracting
habits of indolence. The heathen, as a general
remark, exert themselves no oftener and no longer than
they feel the pressure of present want. They
are far from being industrious, and farther still
from anything like enterprise. Those nations that
are partly civilized exhibit more or less industry,
and are acquainted with some of the arts; but barbarous
nations are acquainted with none of the improvements
that elevate society, and exhibit a state of lounging
indolence and torpid inactivity. If there be noise,
it is not the rattle and whirl of business, or the
hum of industry; but the noise of giddy mirth, boisterous
and unmeaning laughter, or fierce and angry contention.
If there be stillness, it is not the peace and quiet
of well-ordered society, but the gloomy and deathlike
stillness of indolence, sensuality, and beastly degradation.
Now, who does not know that children are likely to
be much influenced by the aspect and character of
the society by which they are surrounded? Who
does not know that they are likely to imbibe the spirit
of the nation in which they live, whether on the one
hand it be that of industry and enterprise, or on
the other, that of sensual ease and torpid indolence?
Let a youth be trained up in a village of intelligence,
active industry and stirring enterprise; let his ears
be filled with the noise of business from morning
till night; let him travel in stages, in steamboats
and on railroads, and it will be next to impossible
for him to be indolent and sluggish. But in heathen
society, the whole atmosphere is entirely different;
it is a choke-damp to all activity, and it falls on
the senses with a benumbing and deadening influence.
But more than this, missionaries have
no business in which to employ their children; and
if it were possible to devise business in which to
employ them, there is no one to superintend their labor.
Missionaries have no time for the purpose, and no
other persons, among most pagan nations, can be found
who are trusty and competent. This is a stubborn
fact, and stands in the way as a very great obstacle.
Neither, in most cases, can the children of missionaries
be kept industrious in the acquisition of knowledge.
Their fathers and mothers cannot devote so much of
their time to their children, as to keep their minds
industriously employed in the pursuit of knowledge;
and as to schools, most missions are not thus favored.
Missionaries then, if they keep their children on
heathen ground, run the risk of seeing them grow up
in habits of inactivity and indolence. This, if
a risk, is a fearful one; for missionaries ardently
wish their children to be useful when they themselves
shall be dead. But indolence and usefulness are
the opposites of each other; whereas indolence and
vice are closely allied. To prevent then this
deadly evil, of having their children grow up in indolent
habits, is one of the strong reasons why missionaries
resort to the heart-rending alternative of parting
with their children, with but little probability of
seeing them again this side the grave.
Again, as the state of things now
is, the children of missionaries, if kept on heathen
ground, can possess but very limited advantages
for mental improvement. Their mothers cannot
be depended upon to instruct them much in literature
and the sciences. Under the influence of a withering
atmosphere, often sick, with no help in many countries
in their domestic affairs but untrusty domestics,
and often with none at all, and obliged to attend
to many calls from the people, or run the risk of
giving offence, how can they be expected to find much
time and strength for disciplining the minds of their
children, and storing them with useful knowledge?
They may succeed in giving them an acquaintance with
the branches of common education, but to carry them
into the higher branches is, as a general remark,
entirely out of the question. Such a task is
by no means expected of a minister’s wife at
home, much less can it be expected of the wife of
a missionary.
Neither can their fathers be depended
upon to give a thorough education. Ministers
at home would find it a great encroachment upon their
time to spend several hours each day in instructing
their own children; but they have vastly more
leisure to do so than the foreign missionary.
To instruct a class of three or four requires the
same apparatus, the same preparation in the teacher,
and the same number of hours each day, as would be
required for a class of thirty or forty. But should
a missionary devote such an amount of time and means
to his own family, it must be to the neglect of other
labor. The most economical, and the most efficient
course by far, evidently is, to collect together a
sufficient number of missionaries’ children
to form a school, and devote a competent number of
teachers entirely to that work.
But even where such schools can be
enjoyed, they must be attended with many risks and
privations, and be only preparatory in their nature.
Those scholars, who may need a thorough education,
must be still under the necessity of visiting a Christian
land. It is too of great, and perhaps indispensable
importance, that youth who are trained for active
life should see the industry, enterprise, and intelligence
of a Christian land, and so far, at least, partake
of its character and imbibe its spirit.
Missionaries, then, must either suffer
their children to grow up with a very limited education,
or submit to the alternative sooner or later of sending
them to a Christian land. But missionaries see
the want of laborers in the great field of the world,
and ardently desire that their children may be qualified
to take part in the work. They choose therefore
the present anguish of separation, bitter as it may
be, that there may exist a reasonable prospect that
their children, at some future day, may be eminently
useful in the vineyard of the Lord.
One other difficulty I must name,
and that is, that missionaries’ children, if
kept on heathen ground, will have no prospect of
suitable employment when old enough to settle in life.
They will have no trades. To be merchants they
will not have means. They will not be acquainted
with agriculture, and in many countries will not be
able to obtain land to cultivate. Some, who are
fit for the work, may become preachers and teachers,
but will not command the influence that they would
if they were educated in a Christian land. Thus
the prospect of suitable employment is very dark,
and is a fact in the case of much weight.
These reasons and others that might
be named, possess in the minds of missionaries immense
force force enough, in many instances, to
induce them to tear from their embrace the dear objects
of their love, and to send them over a wide ocean
to the care of friends, and often to the care of strangers.
They do not lead all parents to this result; for on
the other hand, there are strong, very strong objections
to such a course. The trial in either case is
great; but it is one that must be met, not evaded.
It is wise to count the cost, but it is treason to
be faint-hearted; for the trial, after all, cannot
weigh much in the balance against the eternal interests
of the dying heathen. HOW MUCH WORSE IS THE CONDITION
OF MILLIONS UPON MILLIONS OF HEATHEN CHILDREN!
The first OBJECTION in the minds of
missionaries against sending their children home,
is, that such a measure seems unnatural.
That it is a violation of nature, all parents not
only admit, but most deeply feel. God
has implanted feelings in the breast of natural parents,
which peculiarly fit them to take care of their own
children. No other persons can precisely take
their place, and feel the same interest, the same
unwearied concern the same unprovoked temper
and unchangeable love through good report and through
evil report. In a word, no other persons, however
good and worthy, can be natural parents.
Guardians can be found, who will feel a warm interest
in those children who are bright, interesting, well-behaved
and pious. But to feel properly for children
that are dull, uninteresting and wayward, requires
a parent’s heart.
That this is the state of the case,
is too true to be denied. For parents, then,
to violate this provision of nature, is causing a sword
to pierce through their own bosoms, and the bosoms
of their children: to do it without sufficient
reasons, is to act at variance with the God who made
them. In the feelings implanted in the breasts
of parents towards their children, God has established
a general rule: has made known his will, his
law, and indelibly inscribed it on the parent’s
heart. Missionaries must be able to plead an
exception to this general law, or they will
be found to be opposing the will of their Maker.
That the very strong reasons they can urge really
justify an exception, is plain to the minds of many,
but not to the minds of all.
Another objection arises from the
command binding upon parents to train up their children
in the nurture and admonition of the Lord. It
is clear to the minds of some missionaries, that the
spirit of this and similar commands is complied with
when they make provision, according to the best of
their judgment, for the religious education of their
children. By others it is thought, that these
explicit commands of God cannot be obeyed by any arrangement
which commits the work to proxy; that there is risk
in committing the work to others; that fully to obey
God, parents, if not removed by death, must in
person pray with their children and instruct them
in the truths of the Gospel; and that they must do
this, not only through the period of childhood, but
also through the season of youth, or till their children
are old enough to think and act for themselves.
It is admitted by all, that it is desirable
that parents should do this interesting and responsible
work in person. No one else can do it with the
feeling and unction natural to parents. All not
only admit this to be true, but feel it, too,
to the very centre of their souls. But some think
that it is not only very desirable, but altogether
indispensable that any other course is an
unwarrantable substitution of human wisdom for the
explicit direction of the all-wise God. The reader
must judge whether this position is tenable or not.
There is another objection: If
missionaries’ children are sent home, then one
very important influence of a missionary’s
family upon the heathen is in a great measure
lost. Among the heathen, the family constitution
is in ruins. The state of society is almost a
perfect chaos. It is of immense importance, therefore,
not only to inculcate the principles of domestic peace,
but actually to bring before their eyes living examples
of well-ordered and happy families. They need
to see, not only young children well governed, but
also the mutual interchanges of love, affection and
duty, between young people and their aged parents.
But this they cannot see if children are sent home.
A missionary’s family, who sends his older children
home, and keeps with him only those that are quite
young, is not like a tree adorned with its natural
and well-proportioned branches, but presents the aspect
of a tree closely trimmed, and with only a few twigs
left at the very top. And when all his children
are sent away, his family presents the aspect of a
trunk without branch, shoot, twig or foliage, standing
alone in an open field. This is unnatural, blighting
to much of the comfort and cheerfulness of the parental
abode, and is not the example which it is desirable
to hold up before the eyes of the heathen. One
important reason, then, why a missionary should have
a family, is lost in sending his children home.
I mention as another objection, the
dangerous influence to which children are more or
less exposed on a long voyage at sea. From
some of the missionary fields, the voyage must be
five, six, or seven months. I speak not of what
are called the dangers of the deep, or the hardships
of a sea life for six or seven months. These are
of little account. The danger of which I speak
is, the pernicious influence to which for that length
of time they are exposed. This is an objection
which, though not of sufficient weight in itself to
determine one’s course, may yet come in as an
item in making up the account.
On the supposition that children are
sent, they go of course without their parents.
In some cases the protector to whom they are to be
intrusted may not be altogether such as could be desired.
Even in case a parent accompanies the children, he
will find it a great task to keep them from many pernicious
influences during a long voyage. In very many
ships they will hear more or less profane, low, vulgar
and infamous language, both in conversation and in
song. They will see exhibitions of anger, impatience,
fretfulness, boisterous laughter and giddy mirth.
They will see the holy Sabbath made a day of business,
or at best a day of lounging and idleness. They
will be likely on the one hand to receive such caresses
as to make them vain and self-important; or, on the
other hand, to be so treated as to chafe their tempers
and injure their dispositions. In short, for
six or seven months, they must be thrown into a strange
family; into a family confined to the narrow limits
of a ship’s cabin and deck; into a family over
which the parent of the children has no control; into
a family, too, composed of the variety of character
and disposition of those who sail on the ocean.
Thus circumstanced, children inevitably suffer much,
even under the vigilant eye of a parent, and still
more would they suffer under any eye less careful
and attentive. This moral danger to which children
are exposed at sea, though not an objection of the
strongest kind, is yet an item worthy of being noticed.
Missionaries think of it when sending away their children,
and dread it far more than tempests and tornadoes.
Another objection is, that no adequate
provision is made for the support and education of
missionaries’ children, if sent to a Christian
land. The provision that is made by the American
Board of Commissioners is $60 a year for a boy till
he is eighteen years of age, and $50 a year for a
girl during the same period. Now, every one sees
that this is a sum scarcely sufficient to furnish
them with food and clothing, without provision for
sickness or means of education. It may be said,
that they must be thrown much upon the spontaneous
charities of Christians and of friends. But such
a dependence must be uncertain, especially as few
Christians appreciate the reasons and feelings of
missionaries in sending home their children. Who
of my readers in Christian lands would be willing
to throw his own child on such a precarious subsistence?
But the strongest objection, in my
opinion is this: If no other course can be
adopted than that of sending the children home, it
is to be feared that the number of missionaries will
never be so increased as to afford a rational prospect
of the world’s conversion. While the plan
of sending children home is cherished, it will seem
so incompatible with a large number of laborers, that
it will tend to perpetuate the destructive notion,
that the nations are to be saved by the labors of
merely a few hundred men. But if means are to
be employed in any measure commensurate with the end
in view, a few men cannot put forth the instrumentality
needed to elevate all nations. To commit the work
to a few is in truth to relinquish it. If, then,
the measure of sending children home should tend in
the least to favor this destructive notion, it must,
if possible, be avoided. This tendency is disastrous;
and is, of course, an objection of immense force.
It is clear that there are, on the
one hand, very strong reasons for sending children
home, and on the other hand, very strong objections
to such a course. Missionaries, then, are reduced
to a very trying dilemma. Whichever course they
choose, it is equally distressing. Whichever way
they turn, they find enough to rend their hearts with
anguish. There are two cups, mixed indeed with
different ingredients, but equally bitter, one of
which they must drink. Their only comfort is to
look upward, pour their sorrows into the ear of God,
and cast their cares on him who careth for them.
This is a trial, the sting of which cannot be appreciated
except by those who have felt it. It is by far
the greatest trial of the missionary, and probably
greater than all his other trials combined. The
pain of leaving one’s kindred and country is
nothing compared with it.
But if the cup be of such a mixture,
can there be found those whose hearts are so insensible
as to throw in other ingredients to make the draught
more bitter? If missionaries keep their children,
and ask for the requisite means of education, shall
they be called extravagant? If they send them
home, shall they be regarded as possessing but a small
share of natural affection?
Here, then, are trials; but however
great, they are to be met, not evaded met
by the churches, met by missionaries; and however severe
and agonizing such trials, they are nothing in the
balance against the dying condition of the heathen.
The situation of our children, trying as it is, is
unspeakably better than that of three hundred millions
of heathen children and youth. The Saviour commands the
world is dying and he that loveth son or
daughter more than Christ is not worthy of him.
The inquiry is worth notice, Whether
the situation of missionaries cannot be so altered
as to change very materially the state of the question,
in regard to their children? Would not such a
change be effected by the going forth of laymen in
great numbers, and of all the useful professions,
arts and employments, so as to form little circles
here and there over the earth?
A great part of the heathen world
is open for such classes of men. Appeals for
such men have been sent from Africa, Asia Minor, Siam,
the Sandwich Islands, and in short from almost every
mission. They would of course labor under greater
or less disadvantages; but these disadvantages should
only have the effect to call forth the more energy,
patience and perseverance.
But it will be asked, How would the
going forth of such classes of men better the condition
of missionaries’ children?
1. They would afford society,
form a public sentiment, and thus serve in a measure
to keep children from the influence of a heathen population.
It is already found on heathen ground, that where there
are several families of missionaries, the children
form a society among themselves; but where there is
but one family, the children are more inclined to
seek society among the degraded objects about them.
2. Again, if men of various useful
employments should be located with the missionary,
there would be held up before the children examples
of Christian industry and enterprise; whereas, in
their present isolated condition, the children suffer
from an atmosphere of indolence and stagnation.
3. The going forth of such men
to introduce the different arts and occupations, would
afford suitable employment for the children and youth
of missionaries, and furnish them to some extent with
permanent situations in mature life.
4. If there were such little
circles of laymen as we suppose, they would have at
whatever sacrifice, as the Pilgrims of New England
did, institutions of learning among themselves, where
children and youth might receive a suitable education.
Unless some arrangement of this kind
can be made, the trials of missionaries must remain
unrelieved and unmitigated. And even with such
an arrangement, the trial would be only in part removed.
Even then the children of foreign laborers would by
no means receive all the advantages of a Christian
land, neither would they be shielded from all the
evils of a heathen community. But it is worthy
of thought, whether by such an arrangement they would
not be so far shielded, and possess advantages to
such an amount, as to change the preponderance of
argument.
Then, in addition to this or some
similar arrangement, should not Christians be more
liberal in affording means and facilities for education,
and expect of missionaries to devote to their children
more of their time?
I have now brought before your minds the greatest of all
missionary trials; and yet I urge many of you, ministers and laymen, and urge
you considerately and solemnly too, to enter the work. I have not hesitated to
state freely the whole difficulty, for I am in no wise unwilling that you should
count the cost. And I would say with Gideon, Whosoever is fearful and afraid,
let him return and depart early. God desires no faint-hearted men in his
service. He desires men that shrink from no self-denial for his sake. For after
their trials are over and they will be but short he wishes to
crown them with glory, and place them at his own right
hand as partners of his throne. He will place
no unbelieving, faint-hearted men there. He will
place none there who are not “worthy of him.”
And remember that he said, “He that loveth son
or daughter more than me, is not worthy of me.”
In looking at the embarrassment of
missionaries in regard to their children, a thought
something like this is apt to arise: missionaries
are by profession a class of self-denying persons,
and this trial is only in consistency with the life
they have chosen. Now, where in the Bible do
you find, that a spirit of self-denial and of consecration
is enjoined peculiarly upon missionaries more than
upon others? Where do you find it intimated,
that a missionary spirit is a thing superadded to
Christian character? An entire consecration of
our children to Christ is not a test of missionary
spirit, but a test of discipleship. Not the missionary,
but “He, that loveth son or daughter more
than me, is not worthy of me.”
The spirit of this injunction requires
all parents to train up their children in that
way in which they may be of the greatest service to
Christ; and not only to be willing that
would be but a small measure of Christian feeling but
earnestly and constantly to pray, that they may be
employed in that part of his vineyard, and in that
kind of work, where they can be instrumental of the
most good, even though it be on some distant shore,
teaching the alphabet to the ignorant and degraded.
But is this the spirit which prevails
in the churches? I have seen it stated that,
of twenty or more young men in a theological institution,
who were at the same time agitating the question of
their duty to become missionaries, all but two
were discouraged by their parents, and these two were
the sons of widows. Many other facts of a
similar kind might be added, if it were best to name
them. Many parents give their children to the
Lord when young, and talk of locating them on the shores
of Japan, or New Guinea; but the very manner of educating
them in softness, delicacy and helplessness shows
at once the inefficacy of such a profession.
Many parents are quite ready to consecrate their children
before they become pious. “O, if the Saviour
would only convert my child, I would readily yield
him to go to any part of the world, and to perform
any service for which he might be fitted.”
The child becomes a Christian, and proposes to go
to the heathen. The parents cling, dissuade,
and throw every consideration in the way to keep him
at home.
At the judgment day, if I mistake
not, we shall see a great deal of our conduct in a
different light from what we do now.
The spirit of the Gospel is a spirit
of self-denial for the sake of Christ. The Saviour
is worthy of our highest love, and no earthly attachment
can be allowed to come in competition with the supreme
affection which we owe to him. This love to Christ
must be manifested by obeying his commandments.
To yield strict obedience to Christ in this world,
disordered and confused by sin, it is frequently necessary
to sunder some of the tenderest ties on earth.
Keen as is the sensation, it must be endured.
A child must not cling unduly to a parent, nor a parent
to a child, but each cling with more ardent feelings
and firmer grasp to Jesus Christ and his cause.
This world is not our rest. Neither is it a place
to give much indulgence to many of the fond affections
of the soul. There is no time for it. We
live in a world of sin a confused, disordered
and chaotic world in a revolted territory,
among a crowd of sinners dying an eternal death.
The main point then is, to save our own souls and
the souls of as many as possible of our fellow men,
before the grave shall close upon us. The indulgence
of many of our tenderer feelings of love and
fondness must be postponed to a more peaceful abode.
While in a world of dying souls, self-denial and laborious
effort are most in place. Parental and filial
affection should be deep and ardent indeed, but under
the control of judgment. Love to Christ and to
souls must predominate and govern our conduct.