9. Many hours shalt thou labor with thy child and do all thy work, dressing him, feeding him, teaching him, amusing him, but for one hour out of every seven waking hours shalt thou let him alone, and bother him not, neither thou, nor thy husband, nor thy nursemaid, nor thy friends, nor thy relatives nor any that are in thy house. For in that hour shall the Lord come unto him.
10. Thou shalt not force thy child in any respect, neither physically, mentally or morally. Thou shalt not force obedience, for forced obedience is not righteous; but thou shalt gently lead thy child along the way that he should go, having first passed over the road thyself.
THE PRAYING OF A CHILD.
Pray, little child for me tonight,
That from thy lips like petals white,
Thy words may fall and at His feet
Bloom for His path with fragrance sweet!
Pray, little child, that I may be
Childlike in innocence like thee,
And simple in my faith and trust
Through all the battle's heat and dust!
Pray, little child, in thy white gown,
Beside thy wee bed kneeling down;
Pray, pray for me, for I do know
Thy white words on soft wings will go
Unto His heart, and on His breast
Light as blown doves that seek for rest
Up the pale twilight path that gleams
Under the spell of starry dreams!
Pray, little child, for me, and say:
"Please, Father, keep him firm today
Against the shadow and the care,
For Christ's sake!" Ask it in thy prayer,
For well I know that thy pure word
'Gainst louder tongues will have been heard,
When the great moment comes that He
Shall listen through His love for me!
Oh, little child, if I could feel
One atom of thy faith so real,
Then might I bow and be as one
In whose heart many currents run
Of joyful confidence and cheer,
Making each earthly moment dear
With sunshine and the sound of bells
On the green hills and in the dells!
Pray, little child, for me tonight,
That from thy lips in sunward flight,
One word may fall with all its sweet
Upon the velvet at His feet,
That He may lift it to His ear
Its tender plea of love to hear,
And lay it, granted, on the pile
Signed with the signet of His smile!
[NURSERY HINTS AND FIRESIDE GEMS 801]
Motherhood.—Motherhood is a profession that is overworked. The hours are long and holidays and vacations are few and far between. Mother gets a great deal of maudlin sympathy and not enough tangible aid, says a writer in the Housekeeper. Our poetic conception of the true mother is that her whole life is bound up in the welfare of her children and her family. At what age are her children not, for her, a matter of serious concern? She has ever had plenty of material which she can manufacture into worry and heartaches. Many mothers consume too much of their own nervous energy and jeopardize their health in what they think their bounden maternal duties. There is a judicious limit of all things even though they are virtues.