Stirring the Eagle's Nest, and Other Practical Discourses

Here is a text for the naturalist and for the Christian — for the student of birds and for the student of Providence. Audubon might introduce it into his Chapter on Eagles; Spurgeon might make it the theme for a “morning reading” on God’s love for His people. And it is a grand theme, whether for the ornithologist or the child of God.

The passage before us is a brief and beautiful parable. To get the full benefit of it, we must look first at its literal facts, and then at its moral and spiritual teachings. The parable is of the Eagle — the king of all the feathered tribes. What the majestic sequoia is among the trees, what the gorgeous cactus is among flowering plants, what the lion of Numidia is among wild beasts, that is the eagle among the birds of heaven. Naturalists tell us that he has tremendous strength in his wings. He bears up against the tempest — flies in the teeth of a gale — soars up to untold lieiglits — goes out on long voyages toward the sun, and after playing the aeronaut for hours, he wheels downward toward his rocky nest. That nest is, like himself, on a right royal scale.

It is sometimes fashioned — a yard square — of billets of wood, and inlaid with rushes and mountain heather. Not down among the reeds and grass does the eagle build; not even among the tree-tops — but far up on the crags of mountain-peaks. When the prophet Obadiah would denounce the pride of Edom, he says:” Though thou exalt thyself as the eagle, and though thou set thy nest among the stars, thence will I bring thee down, saith the Lord.” Up in this airy home — surrounded by desolate solitudes and far above the noise and smoke of human habitation — the mother eagle reai her young. Stout and fierce though she be, yet she has a true parent’s instincts. While they need to be fed, she feeds them. But when they are old enough to fly, she trains them for the perilous process. To this process our text refers.

She “” siirretJi up the nestP However cozy and comfortable it may be, however closely the young eaglets may cling to their home, she stirs them out. They are afraid to fly, and sit timidly on the edge of the nest, looking out into the Avide air and down into the chasms beneath them. So she spreadeth abroad her ample wings — “taketh them on her wings” as

STIRR1^’G THE EAGLE’S WEST. 5

on an aerial car, and soars out for a sail! It is dizzy work nj) there and dangerous. But to the broad, stalwart wings of the i:)arent bird the little fellows cling, and she transports them safely. This is the first lesson. At length they are thrust out to try their own wings. They may, at first, reel to and fro, flutter about, and catch some rough falls against cliff or tree-top. But they are learning, and without practice they never can fly. They must run some risks, or else be left to starve in their nests. They improve by each attempt. Their wings grow stronger, and they grow more expert in using them. And ere long the eaglet can fly like the mother bird, and keep her company in all her chase for si:)ort or spoil.

I. This is a picturesque process that we have been looking at, and we will find it an object-lesson well worth our studying. We may learn many things from these brute teachers, with their sagacity of instinct, parental affection, and noble daring. We may apply this parable — in the first place — to the secular and uomestic life with which many of us are familiar.

A wise and thrifty parent rears his brood around the hearthstone and the family altar. The fireside is pleasant, and home is dear. But the nest gets full and cannot hold them all. If the boys and girls nestle all together, as consumers and not producers, the whole household will soon come to want. So the lrudent father “stirs up the nest.” The eldest-born mustliy out, and learn to shift for themselves. The parting from home gives a hard wrench to the heart, and the very thought of pushing out into the strange world has some terrors in it. As the good mother — God bless her! packs the trunk of her darling boy, many a tear falls in upon the lad’s wardrobe. She stows in many a useful “knicknacket” and precious keepsake that no one but a mother would ever think of. She bids him remember her, as she will remember him in her prayers night and day. “My son, if sinners entice thee, consent thou not!” Homesj)un father has his good counsels also — never to shirk hard work and never to stain his lips with a lie, or an oath, or an intoxicating cup. And so the young eaglet leaves the old rustic nest — borne out on the wings of prayer and parental affection, and with warm kisses and tears rained on the young, resolute face. He must try his own wings now and learn to fly for himself. With sturdy arm and sharp self-denial and patient toil he soon begins to push upward. First failures and some disappointments, instead of scorching his courage, only fire him to fresh ventures and more disciplined endeavors. That mighty arm of God, that helps those who bravely help themselves, steadies him forward in his persistent push, until he is able at last to build his own nest among the cliffs with a free eagle spirit. He becomes the thrifty man of business, the useful citizen — and when ascending prayers have returned in converting grace he becomes the earnest follower of Christ. For as surely as good plowing and good planting ]3roduce good crops, so surely does wise and godly nurture yield an after life of secular and spiritual good-fruitage. This is the rule, which no occasional exception can invalidate.

Whoever of you would have your sons and daughters make your hearts rejoice must not dream that they can be left at home to shiftless indolence, or enervating self-indulgence. Next to teaching your children Christ, teach them to work. “He who brings up a child to no trade, brings up a child for the devil,” is an old Jewish proverb worthy of observance in our modern American homes. Try to discover just what your children were made for; set before them the highest and the holiest aims, and impress upon them that life is only a trust to be held for God and for the good of others. Then stir the nest, and let the young eaglets fly! So rose the shepherd boy Sanderson to the astronomic chair of Edinburgh University, and the weaver boy Livingstone to be the sublimest missionary hero of our time. So rose our beloved Lincoln from his frontier cabin to that lofty eminence in which his heaven-ordained mission was to bind up the Union and to unbind the slave. The younger Franklin was pushed out of the nest to struggle for himself; and he rose among the clouds to play with the forked lightnings. It was from humble beginnings in a Kelvedon cottage that Spurgeon wheeled uj) in his majestic flight — the royalest eagle of our modern ministry.

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