We now turn to the opening chapters of the book of Exodus, where we find that one of Pharaoh's four objections to the full deliverance and separation of Israel had specific reference to "the little ones." "And Moses and Aaron were brought again unto Pharaoh; and he said unto them, 'Go, serve the Lord your God; but who are they that shall go?' And Moses said, 'We will go with our young and with our old, with our sons and with our daughters, with our flocks and with our herds will we go; _for_ we must hold a feast unto the Lord.'" (Ex. x. 8, 9.) The reason why they should take the little ones and all with them was because they were going to hold a feast unto the Lord. Nature might say, Oh, what can these little creatures know about a feast unto the Lord? Are you not afraid of making them formalists? The reply of Moses is simple and decisive--"We will go with our young ... _for_ we must hold a feast unto the Lord." They had no idea of seeking one thing for themselves and another for their children. They dreamed not of Canaan for themselves and Egypt for their children. How could they taste the manna of the wilderness, or the old corn of the land, while their children were feeding upon the leeks, the onions, and the garlic of Egypt? Impossible. Moses and Aaron understood not such acting. They felt that God's call to them was a call to their little ones; and, moreover, were it not fully carried out, they would no sooner have gone forth from Egypt by one road than their children would draw them back by another. That such would have been the case Satan was but too well aware, and hence appears the reason of the objection, "Not so: go now _ye that are men_." This is the very thing which so many professing Christians are doing (or attempting, rather, to do) at this present time. They profess to go forth themselves to serve the Lord, but their little ones are in Egypt. They profess to have taken "three days' journey into the wilderness;" in other words, they profess to have left the world, they profess to be dead to it, and risen with Christ, as the possessors of a heavenly life, and the heirs and expectants of a heavenly glory; but they leave their little ones behind, in the hands of Pharaoh, or rather of Satan.[9] They have given up the world for themselves, but they cannot do so for their children. Hence, on Lord's day, the professed position of strangers and pilgrims is taken; hymns are sung, prayers uttered, and principles taught which bespeak a people far advanced in the heavenly life, and just on the borders of Canaan, in actual experience (in spirit, of course, they are already there); but, alas! on Monday morning, every habit, every pursuit, every object, contradicts all this. The little ones are trained for the world. The scope, aim, object, and entire character of their education is worldly, in the truest and strictest sense of the word. Moses and Aaron would not have understood such actings, and neither indeed should any morally honest heart, or upright mind, understand them. I should have no other principle, portion, or prospect for my children but what I have for myself; nor should I train them with a view to any other. If Christ and heavenly glory are sufficient for me, they are sufficient for them likewise; but then the proof that they are really sufficient for me should be unequivocal. The tone of the parent's character should be such as to afford not a shadow of a doubt as to the real, deep-seated purpose and object of his soul.
[9] It will be said that there cannot be any analogy between the actual removal of people from one country to another and the training of our children. I reply, the analogy only applies in principle. It is perfectly evident that we cannot take our children to heaven in the sense in which the Israelites took theirs to Canaan. God alone can fit our children for heaven, by implanting in them the life of His own Son; and He alone can bring them to heaven, in His own time. But then, although we can neither fit our children for, nor bring them to, heaven, we can, nevertheless, by faith, train them for it; and it is not merely our _duty_ (a poor, cold, and unworthy expression), but our high and holy _privilege_ so to do. Hence, therefore, if the principle on which, and the object with which, we train our children are manifestly worldly, we do, virtually, and so far as in us lies, leave them in the world. And on the other hand, if our principle and object are unequivocally heavenly, then do we, so far as in us lies, train them for heaven. This, my beloved reader, is all that is meant in this tract by leaving our children in Egypt or taking them to Canaan. We are responsible to _train_ our children, though we cannot _convert_ them; and God will assuredly bless the faithful training of those whom He has graciously given us.