The duties of children to parents are far too little considered. As the children grow up the parents lean on them much earlier than either imagine. In the passage of years the children gain experience and strength. But with the parents! The cares of a long life bow the form, and the strong are again made weak. It is now that the duties of children assume their grandest forms. It is not sufficient to simply give them a home to make their declining years comfortable. While supplying their physical wants, their hearts may be famishing for some expression of love from you. If you think they have outgrown these desires, you are mistaken. Every little attention you can show your mother—your escort to Church or concert, or for a quiet walk—brings back the youth of her heart; her cheeks glow with pleasure, and she feels happy for such a dutiful son. The father, occupied and absorbed as he may be, is not wholly indifferent to the filial expressions of devoted love. He may pretend to care but very little for them; but, having faith in their sincerity, it would give him pain were they entirely withheld. Fathers need their sons quite as much as the sons need the fathers; but in how many deplorable instances do they fail to find in them a staff for their declining years!
You may disappoint the ambition of your parents, you may be unable to distinguish yourself as you fondly hoped; but let this not swerve you from a determination to be a son of whose moral character they need never be ashamed. Begin early to cultivate a habit of thoughtfulness and consideration for others, especially for those you are commanded to honor. Can you begrudge a few extra steps for the mother who never stopped to number those you demanded during your helpless infancy? Have you the heart to slight her requests or treat her remarks with indifference, when you can not begin to measure the patient devotion with which she bore your peculiarities? Anticipate her wants, invite her confidence, be prompt to offer assistance, express your affections as heartily as you did when a child, that the mother may never have occasion to grieve in secret for the child she has lost.
Aim of Life
It is the aim that makes the man, and without this he is nothing as far as the utter destitution of force, weight, and even individuality among men can reduce him to nonentity. The strong gusts and currents of the world sweep him this way and that, without steam or sail to impel, or helm to guide him. If he be not speedily wrecked or run aground, it is more his good fortune than good management. We have never heard a more touching confession of utter weakness and misery than these words from one singularly blessed with the endowments of nature and of Providence: "My life is aimless."
Take heed, young man, of an aimless life. Take heed, too, of a low and sordid aim. A well-ascertained and generous purpose gives vigor, direction, and perseverance to all man's efforts. Its concomitants are a well-disciplined intellect, character, influence, tranquillity, and cheerfulness within—success and honor without. Whatever a man's talents and advantages may be, with no aim, or a low one, he is weak and despicable; and he can not be otherwise than respectable and influential with a high one. Without some definite object before us, some standard which we are earnestly striving to reach, we can not expect to attain to any great height, either mentally or morally. Placing for ourselves high standards, and wishing to reach them without any further effort on our part, is not enough to elevate us in any very great degree.
Some one has said, "Nature holds for each of us all that we need to make us useful and happy; but she requires us to labor for all that we get." God gives nothing of value unto man unmatched by need of labor; and we can expect to overcome difficulties only by strong and determined efforts. Here is a great and noble work lying just before us, just as the blue ocean lies out beyond the rocks which line the shore. In our strivings for "something better than we have known" we should work for others' good rather than our own pleasure. Those whose object in life is their own happiness find at last that their lives are sad failures.
We need to do something each day that shall help us to a larger life of soul; and every word or deed which brings joy or gladness to other hearts lifts us nearer a perfect life; for a noble deed is a step toward God. To live for something worthy of life involves the necessity of an intelligent and definite plan of action. More than splendid dreamings or magnificent resolves is necessary to success in the objects and ambitions of life. Men come to the best results in every department of effort only as they thoughtfully plan and earnestly toil in given directions. Purposes without work is dead. It were vain to hope for good results from mere plans. Random or spasmodic efforts, like aimless shoots, are generally no better than wasted time or strength. The purposes of shrewd men in the business of this life are always followed by careful plans, enforced by work. Whether the object is learning, honor, or wealth, the ways and means are always laid out according to the best rules and methods. The mariner has his chart, the architect his plans, the sculptor his model, and all as a means and condition of success. Inventive genius, or even what is called inspiration, can do little in any department of the theoretic or practical science except as it works by a well-formed plan; then every step is an advance towards the accomplishment of its object. Every tack of the ship made in accordance with nautical law keeps her steadily nearing the port. Each stroke of the chisel brings the marble into a clearer likeness to the model. No effort or time is lost; for nothing is done rashly or at random.