I have seen some bad boys who thought it looked brave to care nothing for the wishes of their parents. But do you think that Casabianca was a coward? No; the boy who is truly brave, and has a noble spirit, will obey his parents. If others tease him to do differently, he will dare to tell them, that he means to do his duty; and if they laugh at him, he will let them laugh, and show them, by his conduct, that he does not care for the sneers of bad boys. The fact is, that, in almost all cases, disobedient boys are mean, and cowardly, and contemptible. They have not one particle of the spirit of the noble little Casabianca. And when these disobedient boys grow up to be men, they do not command influence or respect.
If you would be useful and happy when you arrive at mature years, you must be affectionate and obedient as a child. It is invariably true that the path of duty is the path of peace. The child who has established principles of firm integrity—who has that undaunted resolution which can face opposition and brave ridicule—bids fair to rise to eminence in usefulness and respect. These qualities, which shed so lovely a charm over childhood, will go with you into maturer life; they will give stability to your character, and command respect. And those faults of childhood which render one hesitating, and weak, and cowardly, will, in all probability, continue through your whole earthly existence. The man is but the grown-up child, possessing generally the same traits of character in every period of life. How important it is then that, in early youth, you should acquire the habit of triumphing over temptation, and of resolutely discharging all your duties!
It is important for you to remember that obedience requires of you, not only to do as you are bidden, but to do it with cheerfulness and alacrity. Suppose, as you are sitting at the table in a pleasant evening, the customary hour for you to retire to rest arrives. You are, perhaps, engaged in reading some very interesting book, and do not feel at all sleepy. You ask permission to sit up a little longer. But your mother tells you that the time for you to go to bed has come, and she prefers that you should be regular in your habits. You think it is rather hard that you cannot be indulged in your wishes, and, with sullen looks, shut your book, and, taking a light, in ill humor go to your chamber. Now, this is not obedience. As you retire to your chamber, the displeasure of God follows you. Your sin of disobedience is so great, that you cannot even pray before you fall asleep. It is impossible for a person to pray when out of humor. You may repeat the words of prayer, but you cannot offer acceptable prayer to the Lord. And as you lie down upon your bed, and the darkness of night is around you, your offended Maker regards you as an ungrateful and disobedient child. And all the night long his eye is upon your heart, and the knowledge of your sin is in his mind. Obedience belongs to the heart, as well as to the outward conduct. It is necessary that you should, with affection and cheerfulness, fulfill the wishes of your parents. You should feel that they know what is best, and, instead of being sullen and displeased because they do not think fit to indulge you in all your wishes, you should, with a pleasant countenance and a willing heart, yield to their requirements.
You do not know how much pleasure it affords your parents to see you happy. They are willing to make almost any sacrifice for your good. And they never have more heartfelt enjoyment themselves than when they see their children virtuous, contented, and happy. When they refuse to gratify any of your desires, it is not because they do not wish to see you happy, but because they see that your happiness will be best promoted by refusing your request. They have lived longer in the world than you, and know better than you the dangers by which you are surrounded. Deeply interested in your book, you desire to sit up later than usual, and think it would make you happy. But your mother, who is older and wiser, knows that the way to make children healthy and happy, is to have them in the regular habit of retiring early at night. And when you ask to sit up later than usual, she loves you too well to permit it. You think she is cruel, when, in fact, she is as kind as she can be. If she were an unkind mother, and cared nothing about your happiness, she would say, "O yes; you may sit up as long as you please. I do not care any thing about it."
Now, is it obedience, when your kind mother is doing all in her power to make you happy, for you to look sullen and morose? Is it honoring your father and your mother, for you to look offended and speak unkindly, because they wish you to do that which they know to be for your welfare? The truly grateful child will endeavor, always, with a pleasant countenance, and a peaceful heart, to yield ready obedience to his parents' wishes. He will never murmur or complain. Such a child can retire to bed at night contented and happy. He can sincerely thank God for all his goodness and pray for that protection which God is ever ready to grant those who love him.
CHAPTER IV.
OBEDIENCE, (continued)
There is hardly any subject upon which children in well-regulated families feel more like complaining-, than of the unwillingness of their parents to indulge them, in evening plays and evening visits. An active boy, whose heart is full of fun and frolic, is sitting quietly by the fireside, in a pleasant winter evening. Every now and then he hears the loud shouts and joyful laugh of some twenty of his companions, who are making the moonlight air ring with their merriment. Occasionally, a troop of them will go rushing by the windows, in the impetuosity of their sports. The ardent little fellow by the fireside can hardly contain himself. He longs to unite his voice in the shout, and try his feet in the chase. He nestles upon his chair, and walks across the room, and peeps through the curtains. As he sees the dark forms of the boys clustered together in merry groups, or scattered in their plays, he feels as though, he were a prisoner. And even though he be a good boy, and obedient to his parents, he can hardly understand why it is that they deprive him of this pleasure. I used to feel so when I was a boy, and I suppose other boys feel so. But now I see the reason. Those night plays led the boys into bad habits. All kinds of boys met together, and some would use indecent and profane language, which depraved the hearts and corrupted the morals of the rest. The boys who were thus spending their evenings, were misimproving their time, and acquiring a disrelish for the purifying and peaceful enjoyments of home. You sometimes see men who appear to care nothing about their families. They spend their evenings away from home with the idle and the dissolute. Such men are miserable and despised. Their families are forsaken and unhappy. Why do these men do so? Because, when they were boys, they spent their evenings away from home, playing in the streets. Thus home lost all its charms, virtue was banished from, their bosoms, and life was robbed of its joy. I wish every boy who reads this would think of these reasons, and see if they are not sufficient. Your kind parents do not allow you to go out in the evenings and play in the streets—
I. Because you will acquire bad habits. You will grow rude and vulgar in manners, and acquire a relish for pleasures which will destroy your usefulness and your happiness.
II. You will always find in such scenes bad boys, and must hear much indecent and profane language, which will corrupt your heart.