Chapter 18

In the thirteenth chapter of the Book of Judges is recorded the short but suggestive story which is our Bible lesson for the present month. Horeb is long since left behind. The evil generation, who forty years tried the patience of Jehovah, have fallen in the wilderness, and their successors are now in possession of the promised land. Moses, and Joshua, and Caleb, have gone to their rest, and Israel, bereft of their counsel, follow wise or evil advices as a wayward fancy may dictate, and receive a corresponding recompense at the hands of their God. The children proved in no respect wiser or more obedient than their fathers. Again and again "they forsook the Lord and served the idols of the Canaanites, and in wrath He gave them up to their enemies." Often in pity he raised up for them deliverers who would lead them for a time in better paths, "but when the judge was dead, they returned, and corrupted themselves more than their fathers, in following other gods to serve them, and to bow down unto them; they ceased not from their own doings nor from their stubborn way," and therefore were they often for long tedious years in bondage to the various nations which God had left in the land "to prove them whether they would walk in his ways." It was during one of these seasons of trouble that the subject of our study is mentioned. She was the wife of Manoah, a citizen of Zorah, of the tribe of Dan. Of her previous history, and the events of her after life, we know nothing. He who sitteth on the circle of the heavens, and beholdeth all things that are done under the sun, and readeth all hearts, had marked her out as the instrument, wherewith he would work to get glory to himself, and however little known to others, He deemed her worthy of this distinguished honor, and to receive a direct communication from himself. Of her character nothing is said, but we gather with unerring certainty that she was a self-denying, obedient child of God, for He would not have chosen one who would not adhere strictly to his every injunction.

It is not necessary that we should detail every incident of those interviews with the angel Jehovah, which the mother of Samson was permitted to enjoy. Take your Bible, friend, and read for yourself in words more befitting than we can use, and as you rise from the perusal, if the true spirit of a Christian reigns in your heart, you will perhaps exclaim, "Oh, that the Lord would come to me also and tell me how I shall order my children that so they may be the subjects of his grace and instruments of his will!" If you meditate deeply while you read, perhaps you will conclude that in His directions to this mother, our Heavenly Father has revealed to us wonderful and important things, which may answer us instead of direct communications from Himself, and which, if heeded and obeyed, will secure to us great peace and satisfaction. Bear in mind, that he who speaks is our Creator--that all the wonders of the human frame are perfectly familiar to Him, and that He knows far more than earthly skill and science have ever been able to ascertain, or even hint at, concerning the relations which Himself ordained. He comes to Manoah's wife with these words: "Now, therefore, beware, and drink not wine nor strong drink, and eat not any unclean thing. For, lo! thou shall conceive and bear a son; and no razor shall come on his head: for the child shall be a Nazarite unto God from the womb." Can you discern in this only an allusion to Jewish customs and ceremonies, long since obsolete, and in no way interesting to us, except as a matter of history? Can you not rather see gleaming out a golden rule which all would be blessed in following? To us, in this history, Jehovah says, "Mother, whatever you wish your child to be, that must you also in all respects be yourself." Samson is to be consecrated to God by the most solemn of vows all the days of his life, and the conditions of that vow his mother is commanded to fulfill from the moment that she is conscious of his existence until he is weaned, a period of four years at least, according to the custom of her time.

These thoughts introduce to us a theme on which volumes have been written and spoken. Men of deep research and profound judgment have been ready to say to all the parents of earth, "Whatever ye are such will also your children prove always, and in every particular to be;" and there are not wanting multitudes of facts to strengthen and confirm the position. In certain aspects of it it is assuredly true, since the principal characteristics of the race remain from age to age the same. Nor is it disproved by what seem at first adverse facts, for although children seem in physical and intellectual constitution often the direct opposite of their parents, yet a close study into the history of families may only prove, that if unlike those parents in general character, they have nevertheless inherited that particular phase which governed the period from which they date their existence. No person bears through life precisely the same dispositions, or is at all times equally under the same influences or governed by the same motives. The gentle and amiable by nature may come into circumstances which shall induce unwonted irritability and ill-humor; the irascible and passionate, surrounded in some favored time, by all that heart can wish, may seem as lovely as though no evil tempers had ever deformed them; and the children who may be the offspring of these episodes in life, may bear indeed a character differing wholly from the usual character of their parents, but altogether corresponding to the brief and unusual state which ruled their hour of beginning life. So is it also in physical constitution. The feeble and sickly have sometimes intervals of health, and the robust see months of languor and disease. Hence, perhaps, the differences which are observable many times in the children of the same family with regard to health and natural vigor.

We cannot enter into the subject. It is wide and extended as human nature itself. It is also, apart from the Gospel of God's grace, a very discouraging subject to the parent who contemplates it with seriousness, and with an earnest desire to ascertain the path of duty. "How useless," we may be tempted to exclaim, "any attempt to gain an end which is so uncertain as the securing any given constitution, either of body or mind, for my children. To-day I am in health, full of cheerfulness and hope; a year hence I may be broken and infirm, a prey to depressing thoughts and melancholy forbodings. My mind is now vigorous and active; who knows how soon the material shall subject the intellectual and clog every nobler faculty? What will it suffice that to-day I feel myself controlled by good motives, and swayed by just principles, and possessed of a well-balanced character, since in some evil hour, influences wholly unexpected may gain the ascendancy, and I be so unlike my present self that pitying friends can only wonder and whisper, How changed! and enemies shall glory in my fall. No. It is vain to strive after certainty in this world of change and vicissitude, since none of us can tell what himself shall be on the morrow. Do what I will, moreover, my child can only inherit a sinful nature." In the midst of gloomy thoughts like these, we turn to the story of Samson's mother, and hear Jehovah directing her to walk before Him in the spirit of consecration, which is to be the life-long spirit of her son. He surely intimates that the child's character begins with, and depends upon, that of the mother. A ray of light and encouragement dawns upon us. True, we are fickle and changeable, and subject to vicissitude; but He, our God, is far above all these shifting scenes, and all the varying circumstances of this mortal life are under his control, and he can turn the hearts of men as He will; His counsel shall stand. True, we are transgressors like our first father, partakers of his fallen nature, and inheritors of the curse; but "where sin abounds, grace does much more abound," and "Christ hath redeemed us from the curse of the law, being made a curse for us." For all the evils under which we groan, the Gospel has a remedy, and we have faith that in spite of all obstacles and difficulties, our Savior will yet present us, as individuals, faultless before the throne. Why may not our faith take a still higher flight? There are given to us exceeding great and precious promises. The Holy Spirit, first of all, shall be given to all who ask. They who hunger and thirst for righteousness shall be filled. He has never said to the seed of Jacob, seek ye me in vain. There are on almost every page of the sacred word, these precious promises. By them you are encouraged daily in your onward struggle, Christian friend. What shall hinder you now from taking them to your heart as a mother with the same faith? If God is able to secure your soul against all evil influences, yes, even against the arch enemy himself, and if he has made the character of your child to depend upon your own in any degree, why may you not plead the promises of His word with double power, when your prayers ascend not merely for yourself, but for another immortal being whom he has so intimately associated with you. You are accustomed daily to seek from Him holy influences; you pray that you may grow in grace and knowledge, and be kept from the evil that is in the world, and from dishonoring your Savior. Can you not offer these same petitions as a mother, and beg all these blessings in behalf of your child, who is to take character from you? Can you not consecrate yourself in a peculiarly solemn manner to the Lord, and viewing the thousand influences which may affect you, pray to be kept from all which would be adverse to the best good of the precious soul to be intrusted to you, and believe by all you know of your Heavenly Father and of his plan of grace, that you will be accepted and your petitions answered? And then can you not _act_ upon that faith? Desiring your child to be a man of prayer, will you not, during the years in which you are acting directly on him, give yourself much to prayer? Hoping that he may not be slothful, but an active and diligent servant of his Lord, will you not give your earnest soul and busy hands to the work which you find to do? Wishing him to be gentle and lovely, will you not strive to clothe yourself with meekness? In short, will you not cultivate every characteristic that is desirable for the devoted Christian, in order that, at least, your child may enter on life with every possible advantage which you can give him? And since a sane mind, and rightly-moving heart, are greatly dependent on a sound body, will you not study to be yourself, by temperance and moderation, and self-denial and activity, in the most perfect health which you can by any effort gain?

Who does not believe that if all Christian mothers would thus believe and act, most blessed results would be secured? The subject appeals to fathers also, and equal responsibility rests upon them.

Some will doubtless be ready to say, "This would require us to live in the spirit of a Nazarite's vow all the time. You have drawn for us a plan of life which is difficult to follow, and demands all our vigilance, constant striving, and unwearied labors." True, friends; but the end to be gained is worth the cost, and you have "God all-sufficient" for your helper.

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_June_ 2, 1852.

MY DEAR MADAM,--I send you an extract from an unpublished memoir of the Rev. E.J.P. Messinger, who died in Africa, where he was sent as a missionary of the Protestant Episcopal Church. This biography is not finished; but I think the following passage is well adapted to your Magazine.

Yours, with respect, STEPHEN H. TYNG.

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Original.

THE BOY WHO NEVER FORGOT HIS MOTHER.

When James was ten years old his father was suddenly removed by death. His mother was then left to provide for the aged mother of her husband, as well as her own little family, of whom the youngest was an infant of a few weeks old. This was a weary and toilsome task. Neither of her sons were old enough to render her any assistance on the farm, and the slender income arising from it would not warrant the expense of hiring needful laborers. She was obliged to lease it to others, and the rent of her little farm, together with the avails of their own industry, became the support of the widow and fatherless. With this she was still able to send her children to school, and to give them all the advantages which her retired dwelling allowed.

It was during these first years of his mother's lonely widowhood that the tenderness and the loveliness of her son's character were brought out to view. All that he could do to relieve her under her burden became his delight. Though but a child, he was ready to make every sacrifice to promote her comfort and happiness, and to gratify and console his aged grandmother. Attention to his mother's wants from this time entered into all his plans of life. Her interests and welfare were a part of his constant thoughts. It seemed to be his highest earthly delight to increase her happiness and to relieve her trials. He never forgot his mother. He might be called "the boy who always loved his mother." Beautiful trait of character! And God blessed him in his own character and life, according to his promise. After he had gone from his native home to enter upon the business of life, this trait in his character was very constant and very remarkable. At a subsequent period, when his younger brother was about leaving home to learn a trade, James wrote to him, "Mother informs me that you intend learning a trade. I am very glad of it, because I know that it will be advantageous to you. But before you leave home, I hope you will endeavor to leave our dear mother, and grandmother, and the rest of the family, as comfortable as possible. The desire of mother that I should come home and in some measure supply your place, I should not hesitate to comply with, had I not been strongly impressed with the idea that I could render more substantial help by remaining here than by coming home. But I hope before you leave home you will do everything you can for mother; and should you be near home, that you will often visit them, and afford them all the assistance in your power. You know, dear brother, that mother has had many hardships for our sakes. Well do I remember how she used to go out in cold, stormy weather, to assist us about our work, in order to afford us the opportunity of attending school. May we live to enjoy the pleasure of having it in our power to return in some small degree the debt we owe her, by contributing to her comfort in the decline of life."

Then again he wrote to his sister, referring to his brother's absence: "I scarcely know how you will get along without him, as mother wrote me he was going to learn a trade this fall. You must try to do all you can to help along. Think how much trouble and hardship mother has undergone for our sakes. Surely we are old enough to take some of the burden off her hands. I hope you will not neglect these hints. Never suffer mother to undergo any hardship of which you can relieve her. Strive to do all you can to lessen the cares and anxieties which must of necessity come upon her. Be kind, obedient, and cheerful in the performance of every duty. Consider it a pleasure to do anything by which you can render assistance to her."

To another sister he wrote, "I hope you will do all you can to contribute to the assistance and comfort of grandmother and mother. You have it in your power to do much for them. Take care that you never grieve them by folly or misconduct. If my influence will have any effect on your mind, think how much your brother wishes you to behave well, and to render yourself useful and beloved; but remember above all, that God always sees you, and that you never can be guilty of a fault that is not known to him. Strive then to be dutiful and obedient to our only remaining parent, and to be kind and affectionate to all around you."

These are beautiful exhibitions of his filial love. A remembrance of his mother's wants and sorrows was a constantly growing principle of his youthful heart. It was a spirit, too, which never forsook him through his whole subsequent life. Even while on his bed of death in Africa, his heart still yearned over the sorrows and cares of his widowed mother. Then he gave directions for the sale of his little earthly property, that the avails of it might be sent back to America to his mother. Though the sum was small it was enough to contribute much to her comfort for her remaining years. How precious is such a recollection of a boy who never forgot, and never ceased to love his mother. What a beauty does this fact add to the character and conduct of a youth! How valuable is such a tribute to the memory of a youth, "He never forgot his mother!"

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Original.

THE MISSION MONEY: OR, THE PRIDE OF CHARITY.

"Take heed that ye do not your alms before men to be seen of them."--MATTHEW 6:6.

In an obscure country village lived two little girls of nearly the same age, named Annie Grey and Charlotte Murray; their homes were not very distant from each other, and they were constant companions and playmates.

Charlotte Murray was the eldest of five children, and her parents, though poor, were kept removed from want by constant frugality and industry. Her father labored for the neighboring farmers, and her mother was a thrifty, notable housewife, somewhat addicted to loud talking and scolding, but considered a very good sort of woman.

Charlotte was ten years old, and assisted her mother very much in attending to the children, and performing many light duties about the house. She was healthy, robust and good-natured, but unfortunately had never received any religious instruction, more than an occasional attendance at church with her mother, and thus was entirely ignorant of any higher motives of action than to please her parents, which, though in itself commendable, often led her to commit serious faults. She did not scruple to tell a falsehood to screen herself or brothers from punishment, and would often misrepresent the truth for the sake of obtaining praise. Charlotte was also very fond of dress, and as her parents' means forbade the indulgence of this feeling, she loved to decorate herself with every piece of faded ribbon or soiled lace that came in her way.

Annie Grey was the only child of a poor widow, who supported herself and daughter by spinning and carding wool for the farmers' wives. Mrs. Grey was considered much poorer than any of her neighbors, but her humble cottage was always neat and in perfect order, and the small garden patch which supplied the few vegetables which she needed was never choked with weeds. The honeysuckle was carefully trained about the door, and little Annie delighted in tying up the pinks, and fastening strings for the morning glories that she loved so much.

Mrs. Grey, though poor in this world's goods, had laid up for herself "those treasures in Heaven, which no moth nor rust can corrupt." She had once been in better circumstances, and surrounded by all that makes life happy, but her mercies had been taken from her one by one, until none was left save little Annie; then she learned that "whom God loveth, he chasteneth, and scourgeth every son whom he receiveth;" and thus were her afflictions sanctified unto her.

Annie was a delicate little girl, and had never associated much with the village children in their rude sports. Once, when her mother spent a week at Mrs. Murray's, assisting her to spin, she had taken Annie, and thus a friendship commenced between herself and Charlotte.

Annie had been early taught by her mother to abhor deceit and falsehood as hateful to God, and Charlotte often startled her by equivocating, but she had never known her to tell a direct untruth, and she loved her because she was affectionate and kind. Some kind and pious ladies had succeeded in establishing a Sunday-school in the village, and Annie was among the first who attended; she told Charlotte, who prevailed upon her mother to let her go, and they were both regular scholars.

One pleasant Sunday morning, the two little girls went together to school, and after all the children had recited their lessons, the superintendent rose and said that a good missionary was about to leave his home, and go to preach the Gospel to the heathens far over the sea, and that they wanted to raise a subscription and purchase Bibles to send out with him, that he might distribute them among those poor people who had never heard God's holy word.

He told them how the poor little children were taught to lie and steal by their parents, and how they worshiped images of carved wood, and stone, and sometimes killed themselves and drowned the infants, thinking thus to please the senseless things they called their gods. He said that children who could read and write, and go to church, ought to be grateful to God for placing them in a Christian country, and they should pray for the poor little heathen children, and do all they could to provide instruction for them.

"I do not expect you to do much, my dear children," he said, "but all I ask is, to do what you can; some of you have money given you to buy toys or cakes; would you not rather know that it had helped a little heathen child to come to God, than to spend it in anything so soon destroyed and forgotten? And to those who have no money, let me ask, can you not earn it? There are very many ways in which children may be useful, and God will most graciously accept a gift which has cost you labor or self-denial. You remember Jesus himself said that the poor widow's two mites were of more value than all that the rich cast into the treasury, because they gave of their abundance, but she cast in all that she had; will you not, therefore, endeavor to win the Savior's blessing by following the widow's example, and 'Go and do likewise?'"

The children listened very attentively to all the superintendent said, and after school there was much talking among the scholars as to the amount to be given, and how to obtain it. The following Sunday was appointed to receive the collection, and all seemed animated with a generous feeling, and anxious to do what they could.

"I have a bright new penny," cried little Patty Green, who was scarcely six years old. "I didn't like to spend it, because it was so pretty, but I will send it to the little heathen children to buy Bibles with!"

"And I," added James Blair, "have a tenpence that Mr. Jones gave me for holding his horse; I was saving it to buy a knife, but I can wait a while for that; uncle has promised me one next Christmas."

"You may add my sixpence to it, brother," said his sister Lucy. "I did want a pair of woolen gloves, but it is long until winter, and I do not need them now."

"Good!" exclaimed merry, good-natured Simon Bounce. "Ten and six are sixteen, and Patty's bright penny makes seventeen; and let me see, I've got fivepence, and John Blake offered me three cents for my ball, that will make two shillings exactly, quite a good beginning. Why what a treasure there will be if we all put in our savings at this rate!"

Thus talking, the children strolled away in groups, and Charlotte and Annie walked slowly toward their homes. Annie looked thoughtful, and Charlotte spoke first.