INTOLERANCE by George E. Price

Pacific Press Publishing Company · Oakland, California · May 6, 1897

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 23, No. 18.

INTOLERANCE.

By George E. Price

'Twas long ago, and in the gladsome days When time uncounted comes to youthful hearts, And when the present joys and sorrows seem The sum of earthly life, eclipsing oft The true and noble by their violent moods. The day was past, and in the twilight hour I heard my mother tell of power divine— The majesty that rolls in trackless paths Uncounted millions in complex array And sweet accord, the symphony of time. In awe and fear I left my mother's knee And sought my chamber. There a brother's voice In lisping prayer I heard ascending up To this same Being, in an earnest plea For broken toys, the darlings of his life. My thoughts, so foreign to these childish words, In strange resentment surged. Nor scarce could I Restrain my voice or hands until he rose. "What foolishness," I then began, "to think That God will hear and mend your broken toys! Better to wait until you older grow, Or learn from others how folks ought to pray." The little fellow stood defenseless, mute. But as I thought my victory complete, I felt a hand upon my shoulder laid. "My son," I heard my mother's voice begin, "Are we not all dependent on His care Who holds the worlds in line? And should we then Think aught beneath the notice of that Mind Who moulds each flower and bud with careful art Far from the gaze of man? Or should we here, As mutually responsible to Him Alone, debate each other's dues; or seek By angry words or acts to show that we Alone can worship Him aright? 'Twere better far to heed each duty's call As we may hear it, and in humbleness Refrain from forcing others to obey And worship only as we think is best." GEO. E. PRICE.