The first duty which man owes, is to God; the second, to his Parents. They are his appointed guardians, in the season of helplessness and inexperience. God has entrusted him to their care; and in return for that care, he requires honor and obedience. A child cannot be pious toward God without being pious toward his parents. The corner stone of a good character must be laid in piety towards God; the rest of the foundation, in piety towards Parents. Show me the boy that honors his parents, and I will show you the man that will obey the laws of his country, and make a good citizen. Show me the boy that is disobedient to his parents, and turbulent and ungovernable at home, and I will show you the man that will set at naught the laws of his country, and be ready to every evil work. When a boy ceases to respect his father or to love his mother, and becomes tired of home and its sacred endearments, there is very little hope of him.

GEORGE WASHINGTON.

When George Washington was about fourteen years of age, he wanted to join the Navy. Accordingly, all the arrangements were made for him, in company with several of his young companions, to go on board a man of war. When the time arrived, he went into the sitting-room, to take leave of his mother. He found her in tears. He threw his arms about her neck and kissed her, and was about bidding her “farewell;” but seeing her so much afflicted, he suddenly relinquished his purpose. The boat which was taking officers, men, and baggage, from the shore to the ship, went back and forth, in his sight. At length it came ashore for the last time. A signal flag was raised to show that all was ready. George was standing, viewing all these movements. Several of his companions now entered the boat, and as they approached the ship, signal guns were fired; and soon after, the sails rose majestically, one after another. George could no longer bear the sight, but entered the room where his mother sat. Observing that his countenance bore a strong expression of grief, she said, “I fear, my son, that you have repented your determination to stay at home and make me happy.” “My dear mother,” he replied, placing his arms round her neck, and giving vent to his feelings in a gush of tears, “I did strongly wish to go; but I could not endure being on board the ship, and know that you were unhappy.” He was young, ardent, and ambitious, and had doubtless anticipated, with great delight, the pleasure he should have, in sailing to different places, on board a man of war; and, although the expectation of pleasure which boys sometimes indulge, in the prospect of a sea-faring life are delusive; yet, it was a noble generosity to sacrifice all the high hopes he had cherished, to the feelings of his mother.

Obey God rather than man.

As a general thing, it is the duty of children to obey their parents; but, when a parent commands what is wrong, the child should not obey. A poor woman told her son to cut down a large pear tree, which stood in the garden of the cottage where they lived, for firewood, as they were suffering from cold. The boy made no answer. His mother repeated her command; but he still hesitated, and said, “Mother, I ought to obey you, but I must first obey God. The tree is not ours. It belongs to our landlord; and you know that God says, ‘Thou shalt not steal.’ I hope you will not make me cut it down.” She yielded, for the time; but after suffering from cold a day or two longer, she told him he must cut down the tree. He then said to her, “Mother; God has often helped us, and supplied our wants when we have been in trouble. Let us wait till this time to-morrow. Then, if we do not find some relief, though I am sure it will be wrong, yet if you make me do it, I will cut the tree in obedience to your command.” To this she agreed. The boy retired to his closet, and prayed earnestly that God would help them, and save him from being compelled to break his law. The next morning, he went out and found a man whose wagon had broken down under a heavy load of coal. He told the man his case, who agreed to let him carry away the coal, and they might pay for it, if they were able, when he called for it. But he never called. It is always safe to do right.

A son’s love.

A man in Sweden was condemned to suffer death for some offences committed while he held a public office. He had a son, about eighteen years of age; who, as soon as he heard of it, hastened to the judge and begged that he might be allowed to suffer instead of his father. The judge wrote to the king about it; who was so affected by it that he sent orders to grant the father a free pardon, and confer upon the son a title of honor. This, however, the son refused to receive. “Of what avail,” said he, “could the most exalted title be to me, humbled as my family already is in the dust?” The king wept, when he heard of it, and sent for the young man to his court.

Filial piety rewarded.

Frederick, king of Prussia, one day rung his bell, and nobody answering, opened the door and found his page fast asleep. Seeing a letter in his pocket, he took it out and read it, and found it was a letter from his mother, thanking him for having sent a part of his wages to relieve her wants. The king was so much pleased that he slipped a bag full of ducats into the young man’s pocket, along with the letter.

Filial Tenderness.

A young man, newly admitted to the military school in France, would eat nothing but bread and soup, and drink nothing but water. He was reproved for his singularity; but still he would not change. He was finally threatened with being sent home, if he persisted. “You will not, I hope, be displeased with me,” said he to the Principal of the institution; “but I could not bring myself to enjoy what I think a luxury, while I reflect that my dear father and mother are in the utmost indigence. They could afford themselves and me no better food than the coarsest of bread, and of that but very little. Here I have excellent soup, and as much fine wheat bread as I choose. I look upon this to be very good living; and the recollection of the situation in which I left my parents, would not permit me to indulge myself by eating any thing else.”

Filial impiety punished.

God has promised long life and prosperity to the child that honors his parents. Of course, this promise is not meant to be absolute; for many die before they have an opportunity of obeying the command, and others are taken away for wise reasons. But, as a general principle, the promise is verified. On the contrary, the word of God declares, “The eye that mocketh at his father, and scorneth to obey his mother, the ravens of the valley shall pick it out, and the young eagles shall eat it;” meaning that God will visit with sore punishment those that despise and ill-treat their parents. Boys, when they begin to approach manhood, are very apt to think themselves wiser than their parents, and to be restive and turbulent under restraint. Two young men in England, the sons of pious and wealthy parents, wanted the family carriage to ride out and seek their pleasure on the holy Sabbath. This being repeatedly refused, they resolved to resent it; and accordingly went off with the determination to go to sea. Their father sent word to Rev. Mr. Griffin, of Portsea, requesting him to find them, and try to persuade them to return. He did so; and among other things, urged the feelings of their parents; who, after watching over them with so much care and tender anxiety, must now see all their hopes blasted. This touched the heart of the younger, and he consented to return; but the elder was obstinate. The carriage, he said, had been refused, he had made up his mind to go to sea, and to sea he would go. Mr. Griffin then requested the young man to go with him to his house, and he would get him a ship that he might go out as a man and a gentleman. This he declined, giving as a reason, that it would make his parents feel to have it said that their son went out as a common sailor; as a common sailor, therefore, he would go. “Is that your disposition?” said Mr. Griffin; “then, young man, go; and while I say, God go with you, be sure your sin will find you out, and for it God will bring you into judgment.” The younger son was restored to his parents, while all traces of the elder were lost, and he was mourned for as for one dead.

After a considerable time, a sailor called on Mr. Griffin, and informed him that there was a young man on board one of the ships in the harbor, under sentence of death, who wanted to see him. What was his astonishment, on finding the young man, who had gone to sea to be revenged on his parents for refusing him a sinful indulgence, a prisoner, manacled and guarded! “I have sent for you,” said the young man, “to take my last farewell of you in this world, and to bless you for your efforts to restore me to a sense of my duty. Would to God that I had taken your advice; but it is now to late. My sin has found me out, and for it God has brought me into judgment.” Mr. Griffin spent some time with the young man in conversation and prayer; and then hastened to London, to see if he could not get him pardoned. But, when he arrived there, the warrant had already been sent for the young man’s execution. He returned home, and arrived on the morning that the young man was to be executed. Within a few minutes after his arrival came a pardon, with which he hastened to the ship, where he met the young man’s father, in the greatest agony, as he was returning from taking, as he supposed, his last farewell of his son. Mr. Griffin entered the vessel at the moment when the prisoner, pinioned for execution, was advancing towards the fatal spot. In a few moments, he was restored to the embrace, of his father. Thus he suffered shame and ignominy, and the agonies of death, as a punishment for his disobedience to his parents; though, in consequence of his penitence, his life was spared.

Think how you will feel when your parents are gone.

A young man was lamenting the death of a most affectionate parent. His companions, to console him, said that he had always behaved to the deceased with tenderness, duty, and respect. “So I thought,” he replied, “while my parent was living; but now I recollect with pain and sorrow, many instances of disobedience and neglect, for which, alas, it is too late to make any atonement.” If you would avoid this bitter reflection, ask yourself, when disposed to do any thing that will grieve your parents, “With what feelings shall I think of this, when they are dead and gone?”

Benefit of Obedience.

A boy wishing, one afternoon, to go with some other boys, on a sailing excursion, asked permission of his mother, which was not granted. After a severe struggle in his mind between inclination and duty, he gave up his anticipated pleasure, and remained at home. The other boys went. A sudden flaw of wind capsized their boat, and two of them were drowned. The boy, when he heard of it, was much affected, and said to his mother, “After this I shall always do as you say.”

Reward of Disobedience.

Another boy was charged by his father, as he was going away, to be gone a few days, not to go on the pond. Saturday, being his holiday, he asked permission of his mother to go a skating. She told him he might skate about in the fields and by the sides of the road, on such patches of ice as he could find; “but,” said she, “be sure you do not go on the pond.” He went out; and contrary to the strict charges he had received from his parents, he went on the pond. He thought there was no danger; for the ice was a foot thick. But there was a place that had been cut open to get ice, where he and his companions fell in, and he was drowned!

Some years ago, a boy in Woburn, named William Wheat, came to a terrible end in consequence of disobedience to his parents. Three Sabbaths before his death, he left the Sabbath School, and went to a public house—a place where no boy should go, on any day, unless sent on business. The next Sabbath, his teacher reproved him, and he was very angry, and declared it was the last time he should ever enter the Sabbath School; which proved true. The next Sabbath, he did not go; and the following Wednesday, he got an old gun barrel, which his parents had repeatedly forbidden him to meddle with, and charging it with powder, applied a lucifer match, to “fire off his cannon,” as he called it. The gun burst and killed him instantly. Here was a boy of a turbulent ungovernable disposition, despising the authority of his parents and the law of God. He only came to the end to which the road, in which he walked, naturally leads.

Boys should never attempt to set up their own judgment against that of their parents. When a parent denies the requests of his children, he does it, not to deprive them of pleasure, but because he sees a good reason for it. If the child submits, he will one day see that his parents had a good reason, although he could not then perceive it. Let this reflection silence all murmuring: “My father and mother know better than I.” The truth of this is clearly proved in the foregoing cases.

Conscientious Obedience.

Some children obey their parents because it is right, and because they love them. This is true, conscientious obedience—the obedience of the heart. And those who render to their parents this kind of obedience, will be just as careful to obey them, when out of their sight, as in their presence; and they will be careful not to evade their commands. They only want to know the wishes of their parents, promptly to obey them.

The shouts of half a dozen children were heard from the piazza of one of the large boarding houses at Saratoga Springs—“O yes; that’s capital! so we will! Come on now! there’s William Hale! Come on, William, we’re going to have a ride on the Circular Railway. Come with us?” “Yes, if my mother is willing. I will run and ask her,” replied William. “O, O! so you must run and ask your ma. Great baby, run along to your ma! Ain’t you ashamed? I didn’t ask my mother.” “Nor I.” “Nor I,” added half a dozen voices. “Be a man, William,” cried the first voice,—“come along with us, if you don’t want to be called a coward as long as you live. Don’t you see we are all waiting?”

William was standing with one foot advanced, and his hand firmly clenched, in the midst of the group, with flushed brow, flashing eye, compressed lip, and changing cheek, all showing how the epithet coward rankled in his breast. It was doubted, for a moment, whether he would have the true bravery to be called a coward rather than do wrong. But, with a voice trembling with emotion, he replied, “I will not go without I ask my mother; and I am no coward either. I promised her I would not go from the house without permission, and I should be a base coward, if I were to tell her a wicked lie.”

In the evening, William was walking in the parlor, among the crowd, with his mother, a Southern lady, of gentle, polished manners, who looked with pride on her graceful boy, whose fine face was fairly radiant with animation and intelligence. Well might she be proud of such a son, who could dare to do right, when all were tempting him to do wrong.

Cheerful Obedience, Sullen Obedience, and Disobedience.

When children are away from home, they are bound to obey those to whose care their parents have entrusted them. Three boys, Robert, George, and Alfred, went to spend a week with a gentleman, who took them to be agreeable, well-behaved boys. There was a great pond near his house, with a flood-gate, where the water ran out. It was cold weather, and the pond was frozen over; but the gentleman knew that the ice was very thin near the flood-gate. The first morning after they came, he told them they might go and slide on the pond, if they would not go near the flood-gate. Soon after they were gone, he followed them to see that they were safe. When he got there, he found Robert sliding in the very place where he had told him not to go. This was disobedience outright. George was walking sullenly by the side of the pond, not so much as sliding at all, because he had been forbidden to venture on the dangerous part. This was sullen obedience; which is, in reality, no obedience at all, because it comes not from the heart. But Alfred was cheerfully enjoying himself, in a capital long slide, upon a safe part of the pond. This was true obedience. Suddenly, the ice broke where Robert was sliding, he immediately went under water, and it was with difficulty that his life was saved. The gentleman concluded that Alfred was a lad of integrity, but that his two brothers were not to be trusted. Obedience secured him happiness, and the confidence of the kind gentleman with whom he was staying; while the others deprived themselves of enjoyment, lost the gentleman’s confidence, and one of them nearly lost his life; and yet, to slide on the dangerous part of the pond would have added nothing to their enjoyment. They desired it from mere wilfulness, because it was forbidden. This disposition indulged, will always lead boys into difficulty; and if they cherish it while boys, it will go with them through life, and keep them always “in hot water.”