READING, COMPANIONS, AMUSEMENT.
By Mrs. C. R. McCartney
BE careful what your children read. Do not take it for granted that it is all right when you see them sitting quietly in some corner with a book in their hand, and please yourself with the thought that your boy or girl is so studious and fond of reading. Examine what it is. Enjoy it with them. Supply them with plenty of good literature. If you don't know yourself you can easily find out what books and papers are suitable. Make it a matter of serious duty. Do not allow skeptical or vicious literature inside your doors, not even when it comes wrapped around a parcel. Destroy it instantly. You don't know what one such paper may do. An aged minister said that he would give all he now possessed if he could undo the work of a quarter of an hour's reading in a book given him by a companion at the corner of a street forty years before. But it was impossible. In that quarter of an hour a line of thought had been started which had colored all his after life. If your mother heart is growing with your child's growth, and you are cultivating your talent of sympathy, you will anticipate their desire of companionship, and make them understand that their friends are your friends, and that they are always welcome to your house. Your mother's eye will be alert to see who are the good and true and noble, and you will encourage your son or daughter to select these as friends. I would have mothers the farthest possible from matchmaking, but I would have them invite or encourage to their homes none whom they would be grieved to see become the life companion of their son or daughter. I come now to amusements, and from this quarter too comes a loud call for parents' sympathy. It is a beautiful sight to see a mother or father in midtime or evening of their days looking on and enjoying, or even taking part in, the amusements of the young people. They have been making their way up the hill of life through toils and cares, and have gained wisdom and experience; but with it all they have not forgotten that they were once young, and their heart is big enough to take in the children's sports and the young men's and women's plays. Mothers, as often as you can, take part in your children's amusements, it will help to keep them good and pure, and it will help to keep you young. But let yours be a wise sympathy. Be sure the amusements are of the right kind. Innocent amusements, both for indoors and outdoors, are so many and so well known that I will not wait here to say anything about them, except that, even though right and proper, they may be indulged in too much. Too much time and thought may be given to them. But I have something to say about the questionable amusements. I am sorry to say that these are prevailing in our day and in our towns to an alarming extent. Mothers, you must arouse yourselves or your children will be ruined. It has been said that the character of a community may be known by its amusements. What, then, can be said of that community the nature of whose entertainments are portrayed in hideous and disgusting pictures on our streets; whose theaters are crowded on almost every night in the week; whose youth spend evening after evening in card playing and dancing? "What is the harm in a dance or a simple game of cards?" How often do we hear this question asked by mothers, whose care it ought rather to be to inquire, "What good is there in this, that is so engrossing and captivating our children?" I cannot, perhaps, tell you what harm there may be in them. I do not know much about them. But there are a few things I can say regarding them. I can tell you that the church of Christ in all ages has lifted its voice against them; I can tell you that those most eminent for piety in past generations and in our own time condemn them with one accord. We can hardly afford to disregard the opinion of such. Another remark I would make about them is, They often, very often, lead to evil. There is a game some of you may have seen called the "checkered game of life." When a move is made onto one of the squares, a hand points to where the player must go next. When he reaches that, the hand points him farther on. If some of you mothers were quietly to look over the shoulders of your boys as they sit so merry, thoughtless, and bright at the card table, you might, if you observed closely, see a hand pointing to the gambling table and the saloon. Or, as you follow with admiring eye the graceful form of your fair young daughter as she moves lightly around in the promiscuous dance, you might notice here and there an ominous finger pointing to the theater, the public ball, the tarnished name. From the gambling den and the saloon, the hand, standing out now more clear and defined, may be seen pointing down to the haunts of vice, to poverty, disgrace, a felon's cell, a drunkard's grave, a drunkard's hell. A simple game of cards or a dance at the beginning, "but the end of these things is death."