I went up to her bedside,
and asked her how she did.
"I talked with her some time, and found that she was a Christian. She
did not seem to know whether she would get well again or not, and, in
fact, she did not appear to care much about it. She was evidently happy
then, and she believed that she should continue so. She had been
penitent for her sins, and had sought and obtained forgiveness, and
enjoyed, in her loneliness, not only the protection of God, but also his
presence in her heart, diffusing peace and happiness there. When I came
into the house, I said to myself, 'I pity, I am sure, a person who is
confined by sickness in this lonely place, with nothing to interest or
amuse her;' but when I came out, I said to myself, 'I do not pity her at
all.'"
Never destroy the effect of such a communication as this by attempting
to follow it up with an exhortation, or with general remarks, vainly
attempting to strengthen the impression.
_Never_, do I say? Perhaps there may be some exceptions. But children
are not reached by formal exhortations; their hearts are touched and
affected in other ways. Sometimes you must reprove, sometimes you must
condemn; but indiscriminate and perpetual harangues about the guilt of
impenitence, and earnest entreaties to begin a life of piety, only
harden the hearts they are intended to soften, and consequently confirm
those who hear them in the habits of sin.
In the same way a multitude of other subjects, infinite in number and
variety, may be brought before your pupils at stated seasons for
religious instruction.
Pages:
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240