with the “Light that lighteth every man that
cometh into the world”; common love for mother
and sister, which for their sakes maketh it impossible
to wrong their womanhood, even when fallen into the
dust; common self-respect, which is so strong in some
men, and makes them shrink from anything in the nature
of mud, is often sufficient to accomplish this end.
But still, when all is said, if in answer to your
mother’s prayers you can implant in your boy
a sense of the Divine Presence and the cry of the
quickened conscience, “How can I do this great
sin and wickedness against God?” you have doubtless
given him the best panoply against the fiery darts
of temptation. Only I would again warn you that
there must be no forcing of the religious emotions,
no effort to gather the fruits of the spirit before
the root, in the shape of the great cardinal virtues
everywhere presupposed in Christian ethics, has been
nourished, and strengthened, and watered into strong,
healthy growth. We have to bear in mind our Lord’s
words, which it seems to me religious parents sometimes
forget, that there is an order of growth in spiritual
things as in natural—first the blade, then
the ear, and then the full corn in the ear; and we
are not to try to force the full corn in the ear before
the stalk and the blade have grown. For the want
of laying to heart these words of the great Teacher,
I have known much pulpy, emotional religion engrafted
on young souls—admirably adapted to exhaust
the soil, but with the smallest possible bearing upon
right conduct; a religion perfectly at its ease with
much scamping of lessons and hard work in general;
indulgent of occasional cribbing, and of skilful manipulation
of awkward truth, of betting and small extravagances;
and innocent of all sense of dishonesty in allowing
a struggling parent to pay large sums for education
while the school-time so purchased, often at the cost
of home comforts and pleasant outings, is squandered
in idleness.
What a boy really needs, and, indeed, all immature
things—for I found it equally true of immature
men—is a simple, practical religion, based
more on the facts of life and conscience than on doctrines
and dogmas. To know God as his Father; to know
that he has a Redeemer who laid down His life to save
him from sin and who takes account of his smallest
and most broken effort to do what is right; to realize
that it is only so far as he is like Christ and in
Christ that he can be really a man and work out what
is highest in him; to know that he has been baptized
into a Divine Society, binding him to fight against
all wrong, both within and in the world without; above
all, to know that there is a supreme spiritual Power
within him and about him to enable him to do right,
and that in the line of duty “I can’t”
is a lie in the lips that repeat, “I believe
in the Holy Ghost”; this is as much as his young
soul can assimilate, not as mere religious phrases,
but as realities to live by.
“So nigh to glory is
our dust,
So nigh to God
is man,
When duty whispers low ‘Thou
must,’
The soul replies,
‘I can.’”