The man, therefore, of fourscore years, though he may understand all things else,—­how to chain the lightning, to analyze all earthly substances, to solve every problem in Euclid, yet in matters of Gospel faith, before he can enter the kingdom of God, must come down to the capacity of a little child, and take all upon trust, and believe, and obey, and acquiesce, simply on the ground, “My Father told me so.”

One of the first things I remember with distinctness as having occurred in the nursery, related to the matter of prayer.  One night when a sister a year and a half older than myself had, as usual, repeated all our prayers suited to the evening, which had been taught to us, from a sudden impulse I made up a prayer which I thought better expressed my feelings and wants than any which I had repeated.  My sister, who was more timid, was quite excited on the occasion.  She said that as I did not know how to make up prayers, God would be very angry with me.  We agreed to refer the case in the morning to our mother.  When we came to repeat our morning prayers, the preceding transaction came to mind, and we hurried as fast as possible to dress, each one eager first to obtain the desired verdict.

Almost breathless with excitement, we stated the affair to mother.  Her quick reply was, “The Bible says that Hezekiah, king of Israel, had been sick, and he went upon the house-top, and his noise was as the chattering of a swallow, but the Lord heard him.”  Without asking any further questions, ever after we both framed prayers for ourselves.

Soon after this occurrence a sudden death occurred in our neighborhood, and my mind was deeply affected.  I went stealthily into our spare chamber to offer up prayer, feeling the need of pardon.  Just as I knelt by the bedside, my eldest sister opened the door.  Seeing her surprise at seeing me there and thus engaged, I was about to rise, when she came up to me, put her arms about my neck, kissed me, and without saying anything, left the room.  This tacit approval of my conduct, so delicately manifested, won for her my love and my confidence in her superior wisdom; and though nearly sixty years with all their important changes have intervened, yet that trifling act is still held in grateful remembrance.

One such incident is sufficient to show the immense influence which an elder brother or sister may have, for weal or for woe, over the younger children.  The smothered falsehood, the petty theft, the robbing of a bird’s-nest, the incipient oath, the first intoxicating draught, the making light of serious things, with the repeated injunction—­“Don’t tell mother!” may foster in a younger brother the germ of evil propensities, and lead on till some fatal crime is the result.