Monsters of Cruelty by James
Michael Now that I am a father and know the affection of a parent,
would I not defend from every danger? Would I not bestow every
truly good thing? Would I not implore every blessing
on my tender children? Would I not nourish their infant
state, Correct and educate their childhood, Inspect, reprove,
and admonish them in youth? Would I allow the dear little
creatures To play with sharp pointed knives, To frolic on
the brink of a rapid torrent, Or dance around a pit's mouth? Would I permit them to eat deadly
berries or to put a cup of poison to their tender lips? However
indulgent, would I allow them to disobey my commands? And if
they labored under any disease which threatened their precious
life, what pains or expenses would I spare to procure them
relief? If assured that a physician lived
somewhere, who could heal them without fail, would I not send
to the uttermost corner of the land? Would I not travel to the
ends of earth? But hear me, O parents, if our
concern for our children ends only with their bodies, we are
monsters of cruelty. Would we pluck them from fire
and water, and yet permit them to plunge into the fire of hell,
and lie under the billows of Jehovah's wrath? Will we snatch
from them sword, pistol, or knife, and allow them to wound themselves
to the very soul with sin? Will we chastise their disobedience
to us and wink at their spitting in the very face of God by open
acts of sin? Are we fond to have them educated
and well-bred and yet let them live in the neglect of prayer,
which is the highest disrespect that can be put upon the author
of our being? In a word, is this the sum of
our kindness? Is this the height of our concern
for our dear children? To see them happy in time, flourishing
in the affairs of this life, though they end up being miserable
beyond description through eternity itself? Will their bodily pain
excite our sympathy and will we do all in our power to have
their diseases healed and yet have no concern that their souls
pine under sin and they suffer all the pangs of hell? Will we
not bring them in our prayers to the physician of souls, to
the savior of sinners? I have but one request for all
of my children, and that is that they may fear and serve God here
and enjoy Him forever. No matter though they sweat for
their daily bread, only let them feed on the hidden manna. Let
them toil and spin for their apparel, but let them be covered
in Christ's righteousness. How would I count my house renowned
and my family ennobled if there sprang from it not wealthy princes
or kings, let potsherds of the earth strive for such earthly
vanities, but pillars for the temple of God in glory, who shall
dwell in the presence of the King of Kings when time is no
more. This Puritan devotional has been
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