WHAT ARE YOUR CHILDREN READING?
Preaching a few Sundays since in one of our country churches, we noticed that the little son of our host, who was about twelve years of age, was entirely absorbed in the book which he had secured from the Sunday-school library. He curled himself up upon the lounge, and was soon entirely unconscious of what was said or done in the room. His face was flushed with the exciting details of the story, and he reluctantly closed the volume when summoned to supper. He was reading one of the numerous exciting sea tales, of a prolific author, which are sold by tens of thousands, and form no small proportion of many of our Sunday-school libraries. The language of them is coarse, although not exactly profane; the incidents in them are astonishing, even if not absolutely improbable; the plot is somewhat intricate, the occurrences are exciting, and the outcome is wonderful! Boys are absolutely fascinated by them. Now, what is the most manifest result of reading them? Not to speak of the fact that they crowd aside all religious reading on the Sabbath, and fairly overmaster all the sanctuary and home influences of the day, of a serious or spiritual character; overlooking also, the vital truth that the intellectual and moral culture of such a book is exactly like to that of the family presence of a rough and vulgar companion; that it is all the time weakening the mental fiber, and deteriorating the moral strength,—leaving these important considerations out of our view, for the time, let us not forget that an overmastering, morbid appetite is being nurtured and fed, which will constantly demand, hereafter, the same kind of nutriment, only in a stronger form. All taste for wholesome and improving literature is destroyed, and only a craving is engendered for the lightest and most noxious fictions. Why is it that nearly eighty per cent of the patrons of our public libraries choose only novels, and, when they can be obtained, only those of the most flashy character? It is simply because they are brought up upon these weak and improbable novelettes. But what shall be done about it? Shall we snatch the entertaining volume from the hand of the bewitched little lad? By no means. There is an infinitely better way than this. By all means, if he reads the book, let it be done in the common sitting-room, and in the presence of his parents. Do not train him to concealment and hypocrisy. Do not force him into the hay-mow, or into his cold chamber, or to snatch the opportunity with the stealthy lamp by night. Better, a thousand times, have him read the book before your face, than simply to drive him into concealment, and abuse his conscience and harden his heart at the same time. The boy is to be won to something better. It will cost something, as every valuable result does, to accomplish this, but the end gained will be an ample155compensation for all the time and trouble it takes. Boys that are accustomed to simple and wholesome food find their appetites entirely satisfied with it; but by pandering a lad’s taste with rich viands only for a little while, he will soon turn away disgusted from his oatmeal and bread and milk. We know a father who has been accustomed to read volumes of history, of travel, of adventure, and of popular science, with his little boys almost from the time they were themselves able to read. Now, about ten and twelve, they are as interested in a volume of well written history, in polar explorations, and in clear illustrations of applied science, as the father himself. He reads aloud in the family. He has the children read in their turn; and he makes the facts of their reading the subject of domestic conversation. Here is the simple secret of cultivating a taste for pure and instructive literature. There never was an hour when so many specially entertaining volumes were coming from the press. Hundreds of juvenile works, if only a little time were taken to sift them out from the masses of trash, of the most wholesome and attractive character, are now provided for young people. But the indispensable thing is for the parent to be personally interested in the reading of the child. The father or mother must watch and cultivate the taste, as a wise parent would care for a child if one of its limbs threatened to become, in some way, distorted, or elements of physical disease had manifested themselves. A pure taste for wholesome knowledge is more important than a perfect foot, or the cure of an imperfect foot, or the cure of an oblique vision in the eye. Any Christian parent would blame himself severely, and properly, if he should neglect, in time, to correct any morbid physical tendency on the part of a child. Of how much more importance is it that he should watch over the healthful development of his child’s mind; and how much more bitter will be his chagrin, when he apprehends, as he sometime may, the sad consequences which follow such neglect.—Zion’s Herald.