And where, my friend—­if I may speak plainly—­do you find any warrant in the Word of God for such assumptions as these?  Leave all the care of your children’s moral and religious instruction, guidance, restraint, to their mother!  It is indeed her duty, and in most cases she finds it her pleasure, to watch over her beloved ones.  And in the morning of their being, and in the first years of their childhood, it is hers to watch over them, to cherish them, and to bring out and direct the first dawnings of their moral and intellectual being.

But beyond this the duties of father and mother are coincident.  At a certain point your responsibilities touching the training of your children blend.  I find nothing in the Word of God which separates fathers and mothers in relation to bringing up their children in the ways of virtue and obedience to God.

I know what fathers plead.  I see the difficulties which often lie in their path.  I am aware of the competition which marks every industrial pursuit in the land.  And many men who wish it were different, who would love to be more with their families, who would delight to aid in instructing their little ones, find it, they think, quite impossible so to alter their business—­so to cast off pressure and care, as to give due attention to the moral and religious training of their children.

But, fathers, might you not do better than you do?  Suppose you should make the effort to have an hour each day to aid your wife in giving a right moral direction to your little ones?  How you would encourage her!  What an impulse would you give to her efforts!  Now, how often has she a burden imposed upon her, which she is unable to bear!  What uneasiness and worry—­what care and trouble are caused her, by having, in this matter of training the children, to go on single-handed! whereas, were your parental authority added to her maternal tenderness, your children would prove the joy of your hearts and the comfort of your declining years.  But as you manage—­or rather as you neglect to manage them, a hundred chances to one if they do not prove your sorrow, when in years you are not able well to sustain it.  Gather a lesson, my friend, from the conduct of David in respect to Absolom.  He neglected him—­he indulged him, and what was the consequence?  The bright, beautiful, gifted Absolom planted thorns in his father’s crown,—­he attempted to dethrone him,—­he was a fratricide,—­he would have been a parricide:  and what an end!  Oh, what an end!  Listen to the sorrowful outpourings of a fond, too fond, unfaithful parent:  “My son, oh, my son Absolom,—­would to God I had died for thee, oh, Absolom, my son, my son!”

Take another example, and may it prove a warning to such indulgence and such neglect!  Eli had sons, and they grew up, and they walked in forbidden ways, and he restrained them not; yet he was a good man:  but good men are sometimes most unfaithful fathers, and what can they expect?  Shall we sin because grace abounds?  Shall we neglect our children in expectation that the grace of God will intervene to rescue them in times of peril?  That expectation were vain while we neglect our duty.  That expectation is nearly or quite sure to be realized if duty be performed.