FIRST RELIGIOUS LESSONS. FOR YOUNG MOTHERS. BY a first religious lesson, we mean, the parent's first attempt to make a religious impression upon the intellect and heart of a child. It is the most interesting experiment upon mind which can be made. Parents very often confine the early religious instruction of their children to teaching them hymns and answers to questions. This is done in many cases before the child can articulate easily, and is, in fact, only a lesson in articulation. The mother so considers it. The child so considers it. He regards it merely as an effort on his part, to remember and to pronounce certain words. It is useful, notwithstanding. It exercises and improves both the memory and the organs of speech. But it is not religious instruction. Perhaps it is better, on the whole, that such lessons on articulation, should be given by means of other exercises than those connected with religious subjects; for many a mother, after holding a dialogue with a little child, in which he lisps out in reply to her questions, "Adam," "Eve,” and "Methuselah," will insensibly receive the impression that she has been giving a religious lesson,-that she has been discharging the obligation, which, as a christian parent, she owes to her child. Such an impression cannot be correct. A religious lesson is one which reaches the understanding and the heart. It is no religious lesson to teach a child that Cain slew Abel his brother, if the words are all which are taught, nor that God made him; if, after he has learned to repeat the truth, he still has no conception of an invisible Being. A religious lesson must reach the understanding and the heart. The first religious lesson to be taught a child, is evidently the existence of God, and it is useless to attempt it, until he is old enough to comprehend you, when you for the first time inform him of the presence and the power of an unseen Being. Must then, the reader will ask, the child's religious education be entirely neglected, until this time shall arrive? Strictly speaking it must. You may inculcate and enforce duties of various kinds before, but what religious lesson can come before that which relates to the being of a God, and how can this come, before the child is capable of understanding it? If religious truth is brought before the child, with a proper regard to his capacity and to his previous knowledge, and if it is brought before him with a design that he shall really understand and feel it, it will make a strong impression. In fact, the time most favourable for making a strong religious impression on the human heart is, when the principles of christianity are first announced, provided that it is done in such a manner as to be really an announcement to the intellect and heart, and not merely to the ear. The following case, which we have good authority for saying occurred exactly as it is here described, illustrates this and shows what we mean, by attempting really to reach the mind of a child and not merely his ear, in giving early religious instruction. Little Samuel had just learned to talk. His father had said nothing to him about his obligations to any higher power than his earthly parents, having been waiting for him to acquire such maturity of mind and command of language as should enable him to understand and to feel the existence of God, when it should first be declared. The time had now arrived. One evening, when he had gone to bed, his father determined to employ the few minutes which would intervene before he would be asleep, to convey to his mind his first notion of the unseen Jehovah. He leaned over him on his pillow, and the following dialogue ensued. "Samuel," said his father, "who is here ?" "Who is here, besides Samuel ?" asked the child, as if he did not fully understand the question. "Yes." 66 Papa and Mamma.” "Who else is here ?" said his father, intending first to excite his attention to the question of persons present and absent. Samuel raised his head and looked around the room, and then said, "Mary is out,-away." "Yes, but who is here?" "Besides the room, where Samuel is ?" asked he, looking und in vain for any other person. After a momentary pause, the father added in a serious voice, "God is here." "Heh ?" The exclamation was in the tone of a robin; it cannot be spelled. "God is here." "Is he?" in a tone of surprise. "Yes, he is here." "Let me see him ;" said he, starting up from his pillow, and looking eagerly around. "No, you can't see him." "Is he out this way?" asked he eagerly, pointing. "No, you cannot see him, I say." "Is he out that way? "No, you cannot see him any where." "Is he out that up. I can see it." y?"-very eagerly. way! "Let me get "No," said the father, calmly, "you cannot see him any where. Papa cannot see him. Mamma cannot see him. Nobody can see him.” "All folks can't see him?" It was with great difficulty that he could be satisfied that he could not see God. He wanted to get up and look around, and he gazed, with great earnestness, into every part of the room, which was but feebly lighted, by a single dimly-burning lamp. Presently he lay down, and there was a pause. "God can see Samuel," said his father, cannot see him." "Heh ?" though you 66 Yes, he sees you. When you are naughty God sees you, and when you are good he sees you." The child did not answer. He seemed lost in thought. "God is all about us," continued his father, every where. He is down stairs and up stairs, and out in the street, and every where." "Can Mary see him?" "No: nobody can see him." He lay still for a moment, apparently thinking with interest and pleasure, of what he had learned. At last he said in a subdued and gentle tone, "I like God." He probably merely meant by this that he was interested in the new idea thus presented to his mind. After a little more conversation he was left for the night, and a few minutes afterwards, some one passing by his door, heard his voice. He was half singing, half talking himself to sleep. "Dum dum dum,-Pa' can't see him, Ma' can't see him; dum dum dum,—God can see me, dum dum dum.” Although such a mind could of course but faintly appreciate the sublime conception of an invisible but omnipresent Deity, the lesson had evidently made its way to the understanding and the heart. It was not a mere lesson in articulation. Such a lesson must have been remembered too. There is, however, one great danger, against which a mother ought very carefully to guard; it is that of allowing her attention to be turned away from the work of guiding to religious truth, the intellect and conscience of the child for his good, and becoming interested in his simple remarks and questions, for her own amusement. Many a time will a mother, especially in the presence of others, attempt to instruct the child, and draw him forth into conversation, simply to hear and to exhibit the queer things he may say. Thus, while the solemn truths of religion are on her tongue, her real object is not to lead her child to its Maker, but to amuse herself with his remarks. A child, for example, two years old, after hearing the existence of God explained as above, asks, in the fine clear voice, and hesitating and imperfect accents of childhood; 66 Mother, what is God for ?" "He is to take care of you," perhaps the mother replies, "and of me, and your father; to keep us from being sick, and when we are sick to make us well." "Well, I am glad of God.-What else does he do?" "He made every thing; the trees, and the fields, and the lofty mountains." "I think God is very high." We copy the above from a mother's journal; and every mother's journal will furnish abundance of dialogue, which would give similar illustrations of the feelings of a child, and of the singular inferences which he will, of himself, draw, when his little mind is active on the simple truths of religion. We copy it in order to say, that if a mother allows her attention to be drawn away from her object by the mere singularity and oddity of such remarks, she greatly errs. She ought to reflect upon such remarks, that she may better understand the effects her future instructions may have. In the above case, for instance, she will perceive that her announcing God's goodness to her child awakened some kind of joy. The child said he was "glad of God." She will be interested too in his inference, (perhaps the first. attempt at drawing a conclusion from premises he ever made,) that God, if he created the mountains, must himself be very high. It is right to be deeply interested in these indications of the first workings of the mind, and to draw from them useful lessons for the future, but not to turn away from the great object in view to the mere amusement they afford. If the mother does this, the child will almost immediately discover it, and will show, by his look and. manner, that in his answers and remarks he is only aiming at an exhibition of wit or drollery. We come thus to the following practical principle. In giving early religious instruction, endeavour to find your way, in, to the intellect and heart of your child. Study his character and feelings, and the manner in which his dawning intellect illuminates imperfectly the objects you present. Do this with interest, but let it be serious interest. You are cultivating powers for immortality. Аввотт. ACTIVE DUTY AND ASSURANCE CONNECTED. "ASSURANCE," says president Edwards, "is not to be obtained so much by self-examination, as by action ;" and the assertion is equally true of christian enjoyment, which flows from this assurance. This was the course adopted by Howard, the philanthropist. His rule for shaking off trouble was, "Set about doing good. Put on your hat, and go and visit the sick and the poor in your neighbourhood; inquire into their wants, and minister to them; seek out the desolate and the oppressed, and tell them of the consolations of religion. I have often tried this method," he adds, "and have always found it the best medicine for a heavy heart." The prescription is a good one; and others, as well as Howard, may find a good remedy for trouble in active |