What does all this do but to awaken, on the part of the mother, a still deeper interest in the welfare of her sympathizing little one.  She now realizes as she never did before, what an influence she has in swaying the mind and affections of her darling child, and her responsibility seems to increase at every step.  She presses her child more and more fondly to her bosom.  With daily and increasing faith, love and zeal, she resorts to the throne of grace, and pleads for that wisdom she so pre-eminently needs.

It cannot be but that her love to her child should be daily strengthened by such communings with her own heart and her Savior, in sweet fellowship with her little one, though so young as not fully to comprehend all it sees and hears, yet it will remember and be influenced, eternally, by what has been done and said in its presence.  This mother fully realizes that she is under the watchful eye of God, her Maker and Redeemer—­that the Holy Trinity—­the mysterious “three in one” have been present, more than spectators of what has transpired.  For she is sure that these aspirations after holiness for herself and for her child are not earth-born—­but emanations from the triune God.

It is natural to suppose that lasting impressions would be made upon the heart of a child thus early taught to pray.

No wonder if this little child, ever after, should find a sacred pleasure in visiting the place where prayer is wont to be made, which at first was hallowed and sweetened by tender and endearing associations.

And we would here remark, that it is chiefly by the power of association that young children can be supposed to be benefited by such teachings and examples.

A striking incident occurred in my mother’s nursery, not only illustrative of the power of association, but showing how very tenacious is the memory of young children.

My mother had a fit of sickness when my little brother was but seven months old, and she was obliged to wean him at that early age.

He was always a feeble child and clung to our mother with almost a death-grasp.  The weaning of that child will never fade from my recollection.  In fact our mother used to say that that boy was never weaned.

When he was about a year old, he was found fast asleep one day behind the bed-room door, leaning his little head upon a chest.  Over the chest was a line, and across the line had been thrown a chintz shawl, memorable as having always been worn by our mother when nursing her children.  In one hand he had hold of the end of the shawl, which he could just reach, and he was sucking the thumb of the other.

This shawl, which this little child had not previously seen for some time, was associated in his mind with its sweetest, but short-lived comfort.  This fact will serve to explain the propriety of taking all the ordinary week day play-things from children on the Sabbath, and substituting in their place others more quiet—­for instance, relating Scripture stories, explaining Scripture pictures, and the like.