It is kind in G.o.d that he will not let the wicked enter heaven. He loves his holy children there too well, to allow the wicked to enter and trouble them, and destroy their peace. There was a little girl once, who had a party of her companions to spend the evening with her. They were all playing very happily in the parlor, when a drunken man happened to go by. As he heard their voices, he came staggering up to the door, and tried to get in. All the girls were very much frightened, for fear the degraded wretch would get into the parlor.

But the gentleman of the house told them not to be frightened. He a.s.sured them that the man should not come in, and though it was a cold winter's night, he went out and drove him away. Now, was not this gentleman kind thus to protect these children?

Suppose a wicked man, or a lost spirit, should go to the gates of heaven and try to enter there. Do you suppose that G.o.d would let him in? Would not G.o.d be as kind to the angels as an earthly father to his earthly children? Every angel in heaven would cry to G.o.d for protection, if they should see the wicked approaching that happy world. And G.o.d shows his love, by declaring that the wicked shall never enter there.

"Those holy gates for ever bar Pollution, sin and shame; None shall obtain admittance there, But followers of the Lamb."

It is not because G.o.d is unkind and cruel that he shuts up the wicked in the world of wo. He does this because he loves his children, and, like a kind father, determines to protect them from oppression and sorrow. The bright wings of the angel glitter in the heavenly world.

Pure joy glows in the bosoms of the blest. Love unites them all, as they swell their songs, and take their flight. In their home, the wicked cease from troubling, and the weary are for ever at rest.

A few years since, there was a certain family which was united and happy. The father and mother looked upon the children who surrounded their fireside, and beheld them all virtuous in their conduct, and affectionate towards one another. Their evening sports went on harmoniously, and those children were preparing, in their beloved home, for future virtues and usefulness. But, at last, one of the sons became dissipated. He went on from step to step in vice, till he became a degraded wretch. His father and mother wept over his sins, and did everything in their power to reclaim him. All was in vain.

Every day he grew worse. His brothers and sisters found all the happiness-of their home destroyed by his wickedness. The family was disgraced by him, and they were all in sorrow and tears. One evening he was brought home so intoxicated that he was apparently lifeless.

His poor broken-hearted mother saw him conveyed in this disgraceful condition to his bed. At another time, when his parents were absent, he came home, in the evening, in a state of intoxication bordering on phrensy. He raved about the house like a madman. He swore the most shocking oaths. Enraged with one of his sisters, he seized a chair, and would have struck her, perhaps, a fatal blow, if she had not escaped by flight. The parents of this child felt that such things could no longer be permitted, and told him that, if there was not an immediate reformation in his conduct, they should forbid him to enter their house. But entreaties and warnings were alike in vain. He continued his disgraceful career. His father, perceiving that amendment was hopeless, and that he was, by remaining at home, imbittering every moment of the family, and loading them with disgrace, sent his son to sea, and told him never to return till he could come back improved in character. To protect his remaining children, it was necessary for him to send the dissolute one away.

Now, was this father cruel, in thus endeavoring to promote the peace and the happiness of his family? Was it unkind in him to resolve to make his virtuous children happy, by excluding the vicious and the degraded? No! Every one sees that this is the dictate of paternal love. If he had been a cruel father--if he had had no regard for his children, he would have allowed this abandoned son to have remained, and conducted as he pleased. He would have made no effort to protect his children, and to promote their joy.

And is it not kind in our heavenly Father to resolve that those who will not obey his laws shall be for ever excluded from heaven? He loves his virtuous and obedient children, and will make them perfectly happy. He never will permit the wicked to mar their joys and degrade their home. If G.o.d were an unkind being, he would let the wicked go to heaven. He would have no prison to detain them. He would leave the good unprotected and exposed to abase from the bad. But G.o.d is love.

He never thus will abandon his children. He has provided a strong prison, with dungeons deep and dark, where he will hold the wicked, so that they cannot escape. The angels in heaven have nothing to fear from wicked men, or wicked angels. G.o.d will protect his children from all harm.

Our Father in heaven is now inviting all of us to repent of our sins, and to cultivate a taste for the joys of heaven. He wishes to take us to his own happy home, and make us loved members of his own affectionate family. And every angel in heaven rejoices, when he sees the humblest child repent of sin and turn to G.o.d. But if we will not be obedient to his laws; if we will not cultivate in our hearts those feelings of fervent love which glow and burn in the angel's bosom; if we will not here on earth learn the language of prayer and praise, G.o.d a.s.sures us that we never can be admitted to mingle with his happy family above. Would not G.o.d be very unkind to allow the wicked and impenitent to enter in and mar their joys? The angels are happy to welcome a returning wanderer. But if they should see an unsubdued spirit directing his flight towards heaven, they all would pray to G.o.d that he might not be permitted to enter, to throw discord into their songs, and sorrow into their hearts. G.o.d is love. He will keep heaven pure and happy. All who will be obedient to him, he will gladly elevate to walk the streets of the New Jerusalem, and to inhabit the mansions which he has built.

But those who will not submit to his authority must be shut out for ever. If we do not yield to the warnings and entreaties which now come to us from G.o.d, we must hear the sentence, "Depart from me,"--"I know you not." G.o.d uses all the means which he deems proper to reclaim us; and when he finds that we are incorrigible, then does he close upon us the doors of our prison, that we never may escape.

If G.o.d cared not for the happiness of his children, he would break these laws; he would tear down this prison; he would turn all its guilty inmates loose upon the universe, to rove and to desolate at their pleasure. But, blessed be G.o.d, he is love; and the brightness and glory of heaven never can be marred by the entrance of sin. In h.e.l.l's dreary abyss, the wretched outcasts from heaven will find their secure and eternal abiding place. Where do you wish to have your home? with the virtuous and happy in heaven, or with the vicious and miserable in the world of wo? Now is the time to decide. But life will soon be gone. As we die, we shall continue for ever.

"There are no acts of pardon pa.s.sed In the cold grave to which we haste."

G.o.d, in this world, makes use of all those means which he thinks calculated to affect your feelings and to incline you to his service.

You now hear of the love of Jesus, and feel the strivings of the Holy Spirit. You are surrounded by many who love the Savior, and enjoy all the precious privileges of the Bible and the Sabbath. G.o.d speaks to you in afflictions and enjoyments, and tries ways without number to reclaim you to himself. If you can resist all this, your case is hopeless. In the world of wo there will be no one to plead with you the wonders of a Savior's love. You will feel no strivings of the Spirit. No Christian friends will surround you with their sympathies and their prayers. The Sabbath will no longer dawn upon you, and the Bible will no longer entreat you to turn to the Lord. If you can resist all the motives to repentance which this life affords, you are proof against all the means which G.o.d sees fit to adopt. If you die impenitent, you will for ever remain impenitent, and go on unrestrained in pa.s.sion and wo. The word of G.o.d has declared that, at the day of judgment our doom will be fixed for ever. The wicked shall then go into everlasting punishment, and the righteous to life eternal. The bars of the sinner's prison will never be broken. The glories of the saint's abode will never be sullied.

A few years since, a child was lost in the woods. He was out, with his brothers and sisters, gathering berries, and accidentally was separated from them and lost. The children, after looking in vain for some time in search of the little wanderer, returned just in the dusk of the evening, to inform their parents that their brother was lost, and could not be found. The woods at that time were infested with bears. The darkness of a cloudy night was rapidly coming on, and the alarmed father, gathering a few of his neighbors, hastened in search of the lost child. The mother remained at home, almost distracted with suspense. As the clouds gathered and the darkness increased, the father and the neighbors, with highly-excited fears, traversed the woods in all directions, and raised loud shouts to attract the attention of the child. But their search was in vain.

They could find no traces of the wanderer; and as they stood under the boughs of the lofty trees, and listened, that if possible they might hear his feeble voice, no sound was borne to their ears but the melancholy moaning of the wind as it swept through the thick branches of the forest. The gathering clouds threatened an approaching storm, and the deep darkness of the night had already enveloped them. It is difficult to conceive what were the feelings of that father. And who could imagine how deep the agony which filled the bosom of that mother as she heard the wind, and beheld the darkness in which her child was wandering! The search continued in vain till nine o'clock in the evening. Then one of the party was sent back to the village to collect the inhabitants for a more extensive search. The bell rung the alarm, and the cry of fire resounded through the streets. It was, however, ascertained that it was not fire which caused the alarm, but that the bell tolled the more solemn tidings of a lost child. Every heart sympathized in the sorrows of the distracted parents. Soon the mult.i.tudes of the people were seen ascending the hill upon the declivity of which the village was situated, to aid in the search.

Ere long the rain began to fall, but no tidings came back to the village of the lost child. Hardly an eye was that night closed in sleep, and there was not a mother who did not feel for the agonized parents. The night pa.s.sed away, and the morning dawned, and yet no tidings came. At last those engaged in the search met together and held a cousultation. They made arrangements for a more minute and extended search, and agreed that in case the child was found, a gun should be fired to give a signal to the rest of the party. As the sun arose, the clouds were dispelled, and the whole landscape glittered in the rays of the bright morning. But that village was deserted and still. The stores were closed, and business was hushed. Mothers were walking the streets with sympathising countenances and anxious hearts. There was but one thought there--What has become of the lost child? All the affections and interest of the community were flowing in one deep and broad channel towards the little wanderer. About nine in the morning the signal gun was fired, which announced that the child was found; and for a moment how dreadful was the suspense! Was it found a mangled corpse, or was it alive and well? Soon a joyful shout proclaimed the safety of the child. The shout was borne from tongue to tongue, till the whole forest rung again with the joyful acclamations of the mult.i.tude. A commissioned messenger rapidly bore the tidings to the distracted mother. A procession was immediately formed by those engaged in the search. The child was placed upon a platform, hastily constructed from the boughs of trees, and borne in triumph at the head of the procession. When they arrived at the brow of the hill, they rested for a moment, and proclaimed their success with three loud and animated cheers. The procession then moved on, till they arrived in front of the dwelling where the parents of the child resided. The mother, who stood at the door, with streaming eyes and throbbing heart, could no longer restrain herself or her feelings. She rushed into the street, clasped her child to her bosom, and wept aloud. Every eye was suffused with tears, and for a moment all were silent. But suddenly some one gave a signal for a shout. One loud, and long, and happy note of joy rose from the a.s.sembled mult.i.tude, and they then dispersed to their business and their homes.

There was more joy over the one child that was found than over the ninety and nine that went not astray. Likewise there is joy in the presence of the angels of G.o.d over one sinner that repenteth. But still this is a feeble representation of the love of our Father in heaven for us, and of the joy with which the angels welcome the returning wanderer. The mother cannot feel for her child that is lost as G.o.d feels for the unhappy wanderers in the paths of sin. The child was exposed to a few hours of suffering; the sinner to eternal despair. The child was in danger of being torn by the claws and the teeth of the bear--a pang which would be but for a moment; but the sinner must feel the ravages of the never-dying worm, must be exposed to the fury of the inextinguishable flame. Oh, if a mother can feel so much, what must be the feelings of our Father in heaven! If man can feel so deep a sympathy, what must be the emotions which glow in the bosoms of angels! Such is the nature of the feelings with which we are regarded by our heavenly Father and the holy angels.

Many parables are introduced in the Bible to ill.u.s.trate this feeling on the part of G.o.d. He compares himself with the kind shepherd, who, finding that one little lamb had strayed from the flock, left the ninety and nine and went in search of the lost one. He ill.u.s.trates this feeling by that of the woman who had lost a piece of silver, and immediately lit a candle and swept the house diligently, till she found it. In like manner, we are informed, that it is not the will of our Father who is in heaven, that one of his little ones should perish. He has manifested the most astonishing love and kindness that he might make us happy.

But what greater proof of love can we have than that which G.o.d has given in the gift of his Son! That you might be saved from sin and ceaseless wo, Jesus came and died. He came to the world, and placed himself in poverty, and was overwhelmed with sorrow, that he might induce you to accept salvation, and to be happy for ever in heaven.

The Savior was born in a stable. When an infant, his life was sought. His parents were compelled to flee out of the country, that they might save him from a violent death. As he grew up, he was friendless and forsaken. He went about from town to town, and from village to village, doing good to all. He visited the sick, and healed them. He went to the poor and the afflicted, and comforted them. He took little children in his arms, and blessed them. He injured no one, and endeavored to do good to all. And yet he was persecuted, and insulted, and abused. Again and again he was compelled to flee for his life. They took up stones to stone him.

They hired false witnesses to accuse him. At last they took him by night, as he was in a garden praying. A cruel mult.i.tude came and took him by force, and carried him into a large hall. They then surrounded our blessed Savior, and heaped upon him all manner of insult and abuse. They mocked him. They collected some thorns, and made a crown, which they forced upon his head, pressing the sharp thorns into his flesh, till the blood flowed down upon his hair and his cheeks. And after thus pa.s.sing the whole night, he was led out to the hill of Calvary, tottering beneath the heavy burden of the cross, which he was compelled to bear upon his own shoulders, and to which he was to be nailed. When they arrived at the place of crucifixion, they drove the nails through his hands and his feet. The cross was then fixed in the ground, and the Savior, thus cruelly suspended, was exposed to the loud and contemptuous shouts of an insulting mob. The morning air was filled with their loud execrations. A soldier came and thrust a spear deep into his side. To quench his burning thirst, they gave him vinegar, mixed with gall. Thus did our Savior die. He endured all this, from the cradle to the grave, that he might save sinners. And when he, while enduring the agony of the cross, cried out, "My G.o.d, my G.o.d, why hast thou forsaken me?" he was then suffering those sorrows which you must otherwise have suffered. If it had not been for our Savior's sorrows and death, there would have been no help for any sinner. You never could have entered heaven. You must for ever have endured the penalty of that law which saith, "The soul that sinneth, it shall die." Was there ever such love as this? And, oh, must not that child's heart be hard, who will not love such a Savior, and who will not do all in his power to prove his grat.i.tude by a holy and an obedient life? Christ so loves you, that he was willing to die the most cruel of deaths, that he might make you happy. He is now in heaven, preparing mansions of glory for all those who will accept him as their Savior, and obey his law. And where is the child who does not wish to have this Savior for his friend, and to have a home in heaven?

The Holy Spirit is promised to aid you in all your efforts to resist sin. If, when the power of temptation is strong, you will look to him for aid, he will give you strength to resist. Thus is duty made easy, G.o.d loves you. Angels desire that you should come to heaven. Jesus has died to save you. The Holy Spirit is ready to aid you in every Christian effort, and to lead you on, victorious over sin. How unreasonable, then, and how ungrateful it is, for any child to refuse to love G.o.d, and to prepare to enter the angels' home! There you can be happy. No night is there. No sickness or sorrow can ever reach you there. Glory will fill your eye. Joy will fill your heart. You will be an angel yourself, and shine in all the purity and in all the bliss of the angels' happy home.

CHAPTER VI.

PIETY.

In the last chapter I have endeavored to show you in what your sin princ.i.p.ally consists; and also the interest which G.o.d feels in your happiness, and the sacrifice he has made to lead you to penitence and to heaven. But you desire more particular information respecting the duties which G.o.d requires of you. I shall in this chapter explain the requirements of G.o.d; and show you why you should immediately commence a life of piety.

Probably no child reads this book who is not conscious of sin. You feel not only that you do not love G.o.d as you ought, but that sometimes you are ungrateful or disobedient to your parents; you are irritated with your brother or your sister, or you indulge in other feelings, which you know to be wrong. New, the first thing which G.o.d requires of you is, that you should be penitent for all your sins. At the close of the day, you go to your chamber for sleep. Perhaps your mother goes with you, and hears you repeat a prayer of grat.i.tude to G.o.d for his kindness. But after she has left the chamber, and you are alone in the darkness, you recall to mind the events of the day, asking yourself what you have done that is wrong. Perhaps you were idle at school, or unkind to a playmate, or disobedient to your parents. Now, if you go to sleep without sincere repentance, and a firm resolution to try for the future to avoid such sin, the frown of your Maker will be upon you during all the hours of the night. You ought, every evening, before you go to sleep, to think of your conduct during the day, and to express to G.o.d your sincere sorrow for every thing you have done which is displeasing to him, and humbly implore the pardon of your sins through Jesus Christ. Such a child G.o.d loves. Such a one he will readily forgive. And if it is his will that you should die before the morning, he will take you to heaven, to be happy there. But remember that it is not enough simply to say that you are penitent. You must really feel penitent. And you must resolve to be more watchful in future, and to guard against the sin over which you mourn. You have, for instance, spoken unkindly, during the day, to your brother. At night, you feel that you have done wrong, and that G.o.d is displeased. Now, if you are sincerely penitent, and ask G.o.d's forgiveness, you will pray that you may not again be guilty of the same fault. And when you awake in the morning, you will be watchful over yourself, that you may be pleasant and obliging. You will perhaps go to your brother, and say, "I did wrong in speaking unkindly to you yesterday, and I am sorry for it. I will endeavor never again to do so." At any rate, if you are really penitent, you will pray to G.o.d for forgiveness, and most sincerely resolve never willingly to be guilty of the same sin again.

But you must also remember that, by the law of G.o.d, sin can never pa.s.s unpunished. G.o.d has said, "The soul that sinneth, it shall die." And when you do any thing that is wrong, and afterwards repent of it, G.o.d forgives you, because the Savior has borne the punishment which you deserve. This is what is meant by that pa.s.sage of Scripture, "he was wounded for our transgressions, and bruised for our iniquities." Our Father in heaven loved us so much that he gave his own Son to die in our stead. And now he says that he is ready to forgive, if we will repent, and believe in his Son who has suffered and died to save us.

And ought we not to love so kind a Savior?

You cannot expect at present precisely and fully to understand every thing connected with the sufferings and death of Christ, and the moral effect they produce. In fact, it is intimated in the Bible, that even the angels in heaven find this subject one capable of tasking all their powers. You can understand, however, that he suffered and died, that you might be forgiven. It would not be safe in any government to forgive sin merely on the penitence of the sinner.

Civil government cannot do this safely; a family government cannot do it safely. It is often the case, when a man is condemned to death for a crime he has committed, that his dearest friends, sometimes his wife and children, make the most affecting appeals to the chief magistrate of the state, to grant him pardon. But it will not do. The governor, if he knows his duty, will be firm, however painful it may be, in allowing the law to take its course; for he has to consider not merely the wishes of the unhappy criminal and his friends, but the safety and happiness of the whole community.

And so the governor of the universe must consider, not merely his own benevolent feelings towards the sinner, but the safety and the holiness of all his creatures; and he could not have forgiven our sins, unless he had planned a way by which we might safely be forgiven. This way he did devise, to sustain law and protect holiness, and yet to let us go free from the punishment due to our sins. Jesus died for us. He bore our sins. By his stripes we are healed. And shall we not be grateful?

It is thus that G.o.d has provided a way for our escape from the penalty of his law. You have read, "G.o.d so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life." Was it not kind in G.o.d to give his Son to suffer, that we might be saved from punishment? G.o.d has plainly given his law. And he has said, the soul that sinneth, it shall die. And he has said, that his word is so sacred, that, though heaven and earth should pa.s.s away, his word shall not pa.s.s away. We have all broken G.o.d's law, and deserve the punishment it threatens. But our indulgent Father in heaven is looking upon us in loving kindness and in tender mercy. He pities us, and he has given his own Son to bear the punishment which we deserve. Oh, was there ever proof of greater love?

And how ardently should we love that Savior, who is nearer and dearer than a brother, who has left heaven and all its joys, and come to the world, and suffered and died, that we might be happy! G.o.d expects that we shall love him; that we shall receive him as our Savior, and whenever we do wrong, that we shall ask forgiveness for his sake. And when a child thinks of the sorrows which his sins have caused the Savior, it does appear to me that he must love that Savior with the most ardent affection.

It was the law of a certain town that the boys should not slide down hill in the streets. [FOOTNOTE: To those children who live where it seldom or never snows, I ought to say in this note, that, in New England, it is a very common amus.e.m.e.nt to slide down the hills on sleds or boards, in the winter evenings, when the roads are icy and smooth. In some places this is dangerous to pa.s.sengers, and then it is forbidden by law.] If any were found doing so, they were to be fined, and it the money was not paid, they were to be sent to jail.

Now, a certain boy, the son of a poor man, broke the law, and was taken up by an officer. They carried him into court, the fact was fully proved against him, and he was sentenced to pay the fine. He had no money, and his father, who stood by, was poor, and found it hard work to supply the wants of the family. The money must be paid, however, or the poor boy must go to jail. The father thought that he could earn it in the evenings, and he promised, accordingly, to pay the money if they would let his son go.

Evening after evening, then, he went out to his work, while the boy was allowed to remain by the comfortable fire, at home. After a while the money was earned and paid, and then the boy felt relieved and free.

Now, suppose this boy, instead of being grateful to the father, who had suffered for him, should treat him with coldness and unkindness.

Suppose he should continually do things to give him pain, and always be reluctant to do the slightest thing to oblige him. Who would not despise so ungrateful a boy?

And do you think that that child who will grieve the Savior with continued sin, who will not love him, who will not try to obey him, can have one spark of n.o.ble, of generous feeling in his bosom? Would any person, of real magnanimity, disregard a friend who had done so much as the Savior has done for us? G.o.d requires of us, that while we feel penitent for our sins, we should feel grateful to that Savior who has redeemed us by his blood. And when Jesus Christ says, "Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy-laden, and I will give you rest," this is what he means. We must love Christ, We must regard him as the friend who has, by his own sufferings, saved us from the penalty of G.o.d's law. And it is dishonorable and base to refuse to love him, and to do every thing in your power to please him.

This kind Savior is now looking upon you with affection. He has gone to heaven to prepare a place for you, and there he wishes to receive you, and to make you happy for ever. His eye is upon your heart every day, and every hour. He never forgets you. Wherever you go, he follows you. He shields you from harm. He supplies all your wants. He surrounds you with blessings. And now, all that he asks for all these favors is your love; not that you may do good to him, but that he may do still more good to you. He wishes to take you, holy and happy, to the green pastures and the still waters of heaven. Can any child refuse to love this Savior? Oh, go to him at once, and pray that he will receive you, and write your name among the number of his friends. Then will he soon receive you to his own blissful abode.

"Fair distant land; could mortal eyes But half its charms explore, How would our spirits long to rise, And dwell on earth no more!

No cloud those distant regions know, Realms ever bright and fair!

For sin, the source of mortal wo, Can never enter there."

Every child who reads this book probably knows, that, unless he is penitent for sin, and trusts in the Savior, he must for ever be banished from the presence of G.o.d. But a person cannot be penitent and grateful who does not endeavor in all things to be obedient. You must try at all times of the day, and in all the duties of the day, to be faithful, that you may please G.o.d. It is not a little thing to be a Christian. It is not enough that you at times pray earnestly and feel deeply. You must be mild, and forbearing, and affectionate, and obedient. Do you think that child can be a Christian, who will, by ingrat.i.tude, make his parents unhappy? There is, perhaps, nothing which is more pleasing to G.o.d than to see a child who is affectionate and obedient to his parents. This is one of the most important Christian duties. And if ever you see a child who professes to be a Christian child, and who yet is guilty of ingrat.i.tude and of disobedience, you may be a.s.sured that those professions are insincere.

If you would have a home in heaven, you must be obedient while in your home on earth. If you would have the favor and the affection of your heavenly Father, you must merit the affection and the grat.i.tude of your earthly parents. G.o.d has most explicitly commanded that you should honor your father and your mother. If you sin in this respect, it is positive proof that the displeasure of G.o.d rests upon you.

Sincere love to G.o.d will make a child not only more amiable in general character, but also more industrious. You are, perhaps, at school, and, not feeling very much like study, idle away the afternoon. Now, G.o.d's eye is upon you all the time. He sees every moment which is wasted. And the sin of that idle afternoon you must render an account for, at his bar. Do you suppose that a person can be a Christian, and yet be neglecting time, and living in idleness? Even for every idle word that men shall speak they must give an account in the day of judgment. If you do not improve your time when young, you can neither be useful, nor respected, nor happy. The consequences of this idleness will follow you through life. With all sin G.o.d has connected sorrow. The following account of George Jones will show how intimately G.o.d has connected with indolence sorrow and disgrace.