hen walking through the streets of london, have you not sometimes met a party of strangers, and felt sure that they belonged to another land, because they spoke not the english tongue? had you listened to them, you would not have understood them; they conversed in the language of their own country.
my young friend, what language do you speak? if i knew but that, i should soon guess to what country you belong.
perhaps you answer, “i am english. i know no language but my own.” true, in one sense you are english, and you may[94] thank god for it! you were born in england, and here may spend all the years or days of your mortal life. but your real country is in another world, where you will live for ever! thousands and millions of years may pass, but you will be still remaining in the country which you have chosen. so, again i ask, what language do you speak? to what country do you belong?
foreigners.
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the one is a bright and glorious place, where sorrow and pain are unknown. its citizens are angels and redeemed saints, who, with shining crowns and harps of gold, rejoice before the throne of god. the language which they speak is truth.
the other country is too terrible to describe. happiness never enters there, but pain, grief, and remorse abide for ever! its inhabitants are the tempter and his evil ones—hardened sinners who would not repent, who chose the broad way that leadeth to destruction. and what is the language which its citizens have learned? the language of satan is falsehood.
o my dear young reader, with anxious love would i once more repeat my question—let your heart answer it—what language do you speak—to what country do you belong?
yet, mistake me not. there are some whose lips were never stained with falsehood, who yet cannot be counted among the citizens of heaven. the proud, the self-righteous, who trust to their own merits, who love not the saviour who suffered for[96] all,—these may have learned the language of truth, even as foreigners may learn the tongue of our land; but they belong not to the country of holiness and joy.
and others there are who have fallen into sin, whom the “father of lies” has tempted and deceived; yet god’s mercy may prepare a heavenly home even for them, if, believing and repenting, they turn to the truth. thus, st. peter thrice uttered a terrible falsehood, but repented with bitter tears, and, through the atoning blood of his lord, was received into heaven a glorious martyr.
but oh, dread a falsehood as you would dread a serpent; it leaves a stain and a sting behind. if you have ever been led into this deadly sin, implore for pardon, like st. peter. like st. peter, when next placed in temptation, speak the truth firmly, faithfully, fearlessly; for truth is the language of heaven.
there are four chief causes which lead to the guilt of lying—folly, covetousness, malice, and fear. examine your own life, and see if any one of these has ever tempted you to utter a falsehood.
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it was folly which made richard tell a traveller the wrong road when asked the way to the next village. he thought little of the sin of his lie—it seemed to him but an excellent jest; but the jest cost a neighbour his life! the stranger was a doctor, travelling in haste to attend a patient who had been taken with a fit. richard’s falsehood made the medical man lose half an hour, when every minute was precious. oh, what anxious hearts awaited his arrival! but he came too late; he found the sufferer at the point of death, with his desolate family weeping around him!
it was covetousness which made sally declare that her fruit had only been gathered that morning, when she knew it to be the refuse of yesterday’s market. did she forget that god’s eye was upon her—that her words could not pass unnoticed by him—that she would have to answer for them at the day of judgment?
it is covetousness that makes nelly stand begging in the streets, telling to passers-by her pitiful tale of a father in hospital and a family starving. will the money which[98] she gains by falsehood and hypocrisy bring with it a blessing or a curse? oh, “what is a man profited, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul? or what shall a man give in exchange for his soul?” (matt. xvi. 26).
it is malice that makes eliza invent strange stories of her neighbours. she delights to spread a slander, or to give an ill name. she mixes a little truth with a great deal of falsehood, and cares not what misery she inflicts. whom does she resemble? not the citizens of zion. what language does she speak? not the language of heaven.
it was cowardice which drew peter into falsehood when asked who had broken the china vase: he dreaded a blow; he dared not speak the truth. do you not blush for him, little reader, who feared man rather than god?
how different is margaret lacy! neither covetousness nor cowardice could ever make her pollute her lips with a lie. she serves a god of truth; she is learning on earth the language of heaven.
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she was met one day returning, with a sorrowful step and tearful eye, from a house to which she had gone to try for a place. “well, margaret,” said mrs. porter, “why so sad? i fear that you have not succeeded.”
“no, indeed,” sighed the poor girl.
margaret and mrs. porter.
“and how was that? i thought that you were pretty sure of being settled there comfortably.”
“why,” replied margaret, “the lady asked me why i had left my last place; so i told her that both i and the cook had[100] been sent away because a bank-note had been lost in the house.”
“you were not so mad as to tell her that?”
“it was the truth,” calmly answered margaret. “what else could i have told?”
“well,” said mrs. porter, “at that rate you will never get a place.”
“god help me!” said poor margaret, meekly. “he will not let me starve for obeying his word. i never touched the bank-note.”
“i believe you,” answered her neighbour; “for i do not think that you ever spoke an untruth in your life.”
and margaret did get a place. carter, the butcher, engaged her the next day. “say nothing against her to me,” he cried. “i know the girl; she would sooner touch red-hot iron than money that was not hers. and as for truth, i’d take her word against the oaths of a dozen!”
once, as margaret was cleaning out the parlour, not perceiving her master’s new watch, which lay on the table concealed by a newspaper, she threw it by accident down to the ground. startled and alarmed, she[101] raised it and put it to her ear, longing to hear the regular beat, which might show that it was unhurt. alas! all was quite still—what mischief she had done! margaret dreaded her master, who was a passionate man; she dreaded, perhaps, losing her place. she might have replaced the watch on the table, and said nothing; its stopping might be thought accidental. but margaret would not stoop to hide the truth any more than to tell a lie. with a beating heart and a trembling hand she carried the watch to her master, and confessed the whole truth. was she dismissed or struck, as she had feared that she might be? no; carter, vexed as he was, could not but admire her honesty and candour.
“well, margaret,” he cried, “were your life to depend on it, i don’t believe you would buy life itself with a lie.”
can this be said of you, reader? if not, oh, pray for forgiveness of your sin, and for grace from this hour to forsake it. may god enable you to speak the truth from your heart, and to learn upon earth the language of heaven!
