But what shall my child say to me if I tell him that I am earnestly seeking Christ and heaven for him, while at the same time I am educating him for the world? Which will he believe? Which will exert the more powerful practical influence on his heart and life--my words, or my acts? Let conscience reply; and oh, let it be an honest reply, a reply emanating from its deepest depths, a reply which will unanswerably demonstrate that the question is understood in all its pungency and power. I verily believe the time is come for plain dealing with one another's conscience. It must be apparent to every prayerful and attentive observer of the Christianity of the present day, that it wears a most sickly aspect; that the tone is miserably low; and, in a word, that there must be something radically wrong. As to testimony for the Son of God, it is rarely--alas! how rarely!--thought of. Personal salvation seems to form the very highest object with ninty-nine out of every hundred professing Christians, as if we were left here to be saved; and not, as saved ones, to glorify Christ.
Now, I would affectionately, yet faithfully, suggest the question, whether much of the failure in practical testimony for Christ is not justly traceable to the neglect of the principle involved in the expression, "Thou and thy house." I cannot but think it has much to do with it. One thing is certain, that a quantity of worldliness, confusion, and moral evil has crept in amongst us through our little ones having been left in Egypt. We see many who, it may be, ten, fifteen, or twenty years ago, took a prominent place in testimony and service, and seemed to have their hearts much in the work, are now gone back, lamentably, not having power to keep their own heads above water, much less to help any one else. All this utters a warning voice for Christian parents having rising families; and the utterance is, "BEWARE OF LEAVING YOUR LITTLE ONES IN EGYPT." Many a heart-broken father, at the present moment, is left to weep and groan over his fatal mistake in reference to his household. He left them in Egypt, in an evil hour, and under a gross delusion, and now when he ventures, it may be in real faithfulness and earnest affection, to drop a word into the ear of those who have grown up around him, they meet it with a deaf ear and an indifferent heart, while they cling with vigor and decision to that Egypt in which he faithlessly and inconsistently left them. This is a stern fact, the statement of which may send a pang to many a heart; but truth must be told, in order that, though it wounds some, it may prove a salutary warning to others. But I must proceed with the proofs.[10]
[10] There is, I should say, a very serious error involved in a Christian parent's committing the training of his children to unconverted persons, or even to those whose hearts are not one with him as to separation from the world. It is natural that a child should look up to, and follow the example of, one who has the training and management of him. Now, what can a teacher make of a child, save what he is himself? Whither can he lead him, but to where he is himself? What principles can he instill, save those which govern his own mind, and form the basis of his own character? Well, if I see a man governed by worldly principles--if I see plainly, from his whole course and character, that he is an unconverted person, shall I commit to him the training and instruction of my children, or the formation of their characters? It would be the height of folly and inconsistency so to do. As well might a man who desired to make an oval-shaped bullet cast the melted lead into a circular mould.
The same principle applies to the reading of books. A book is decidedly a _silent_ teacher and former of the mind and character; and if I am called to look well to the character and principles of the living teacher, I am equally so to look to those of the silent teacher. I am quite convinced that in reference both to books and teachers, we need to have our consciences stirred and instructed.