ANECDOTES FOR BOYS. 

[Illustration: MRS. S. C. HALL'S RESIDENCE BROMPTON. --_See page 118. _]

 ANECDOTES FOR BOYS. 

 ENTERTAINING NARRATIVES AND ANECDOTES, ILLUSTRATIVE OF PRINCIPLES AND CHARACTER. 

 BY

 HARVEY NEWCOMB, AUTHOR OF "HOW TO BE A LADY, " "HOW TO BE A MAN, " ETC. 

 SIXTH THOUSAND. 

 BOSTON: GOULD AND LINCOLN, 59 WASHINGTON STREET. 1851. 

 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1847, BY GOULD, KENDALL AND LINCOLN, In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts. 

 STEREOTYPED BY S. N. DICKINSON, BOSTON. 

PREFACE. 

I have noticed that young people are fond of reading anecdotes, narratives, parables, &c. This taste of theirs sometimes leads them todevour all the trash that comes in their way, with no other object thanmere amusement. But, if properly guarded, it may be the means ofconveying truth to their minds in a form not only more attractive, butmore readily understood. The design of this book is, to supply readingof this kind, which shall be not only _entertaining_ but _instructive_. I never write for the amusement of the reader merely. But I am glad ifhe is entertained at the same time that he is instructed. 

This book is not a mere compilation of stories. Its main object is toillustrate truth and character. No anecdote has been admitted but suchas could be turned to this account; and if suited to this purpose, thequestion has not been asked whether it was new or old. But nearly everyone has been entirely rewritten, presented in a new dress, and made tobear on the object in view. The work was suggested, while writing mylast two publications, "How to be a Man, " and "How to be a Lady. " I haddesigned to illustrate the topics there treated of, in this manner, butcould not find space. The favor with which these works have beenreceived, has encouraged me to undertake something of the kindseparately. I have prepared two volumes, one for boys and one for girls, but the matter in each is entirely distinct. The same anecdote is in noinstance introduced into both books; though in some cases the topics aresimilar. They form _a pair_, for the rising youth of both sexes; and ifthey shall contribute in any degree towards forming their characters, after the true model, my object will be attained. 

_Grantville, Mass. , Sept. 1847. _

CONTENTS. 

 CHAPTER I. 

 THE BOY MAKES THE MAN. --Benedict Arnold--George Washington--Gov. Ritner--Roger Sherman. 9

 CHAPTER II. 

 FILIAL PIETY. --George Washington--obey God rather than man--a son's love--filial piety rewarded--filial tenderness--filial impiety punished--think how you will feel when your parents are gone--benefit of obedience--reward of disobedience--conscientious obedience--cheerful obedience, sullen obedience, and disobedience. 16

 CHAPTER III. 

 SOCIAL VIRTUES AND VICES. --Brotherly affection--the golden rule--gratitude and benevolence--manners--overcome evil with good--use of the tongue--contention--punctuality. 31

 CHAPTER IV. 

 BAD COMPANY AND BAD HABITS. --Green, the reformed gambler--profaneness--playing truant--ruin of a deacon's son--bad books--intemperance--going to the theatre--gaming 70

 CHAPTER V. 

 INDUSTRY--LABOR, &c. --An Indian story--business first and then pleasure--industry. 90

 CHAPTER VI. 

 TRUE GREATNESS. --Anecdotes of President Jefferson, Chief Justice Marshall, Chancellor Kent, and Dr. Franklin. 97

 CHAPTER VII. 

 ADVANTAGES OF HONESTY. --Colbert--two opposite examples--fruits of dishonesty. 101

 CHAPTER VIII. 

 PURSUIT OF KNOWLEDGE. --Reading--love of learning--dislike of study. 109

 CHAPTER IX. 

 MISCELLANEOUS SUBJECTS. --Fickleness--independence of character--contentment--the old black sheep. 115

 CHAPTER X. 

 RELIGION. --Religious knowledge--the Sabbath--early piety recommended--uncertainty of life. 124

ANECDOTES FOR BOYS. 

CHAPTER I. 

THE BOY MAKES THE MAN. 

A man's character is formed early in life. There may be some exceptions. In some instances, very great changes take place after a person hasgrown to manhood. But, even in such cases, many of the early habits ofthought, feeling, and action still remain. And sometimes, we aredisappointed in the favorable appearances of early life. Notunfrequently the promising boy, in youth or early manhood, runs a rapidrace downward in the road to ruin. All the promising appearances failed, because they were not formed upon religious principle and a change ofheart. But, as a general rule, show me the _boy_, and I will show youthe _man_. The following cases afford illustrations of this principle. 

_Benedict Arnold. _

I suppose all my readers have heard of Benedict Arnold, the traitor; andof his attempt to betray his country into the hands of the British, during the Revolutionary War. His name is a by-word in the mouth ofevery lover of liberty in the land. But there are few that know how hecame to be such a character. When we come to learn his early history wefeel no more surprise. His father was an intemperate man; and at anearly age, Benedict was placed with an apothecary, in Norwich, Connecticut, his native town. His master soon discovered in him the mostoffensive traits of character. He seemed to be entirely destitute ofmoral principle, and even of conscience. He added to a passionate loveof mischief a cruel disposition and a violent, ungovernable temper. Hehad no sympathy with any thing that was good. His boyish pleasures wereof the criminal and unfeeling cast. He would rob the nests of birds, andmangle and maim the young ones, that he might be diverted by theirmother's cries. He would throw broken pieces of glass into the street, where the children passed barefooted, that they might hurt their feet. He would persuade the little boys to come round the door of his shop, and then beat them with a horse-whip. All this showed a maliciousdisposition, and great hardness of heart. He hated instruction anddespised reproof; and his master could not instil into his mind anyreligious or moral principles, nor make any good impression upon hisheart. 

Before Benedict had reached his sixteenth year, he twice enlisted as asoldier and was brought back by his friends. He repaid his mother'skindness with baseness and ingratitude; so that, between theintemperance and wretchedness of the father, and the cruelty anddepravity of the son, she died of a broken heart. When he grew up, thesame character followed him. We need not be surprised, then, that, inthe most critical period of his country's history, he betrayed histrust. He was a General in the American Army, in the Revolutionary War;and by his extravagance, and his overbearing behavior, he brought uponhimself a reprimand from the American Congress. His temper, naturallyimpetuous, had never been controlled, and he could not bear reproof. Hewas bent on revenge; and to accomplish it, he entered into anegotiation, through Major André, to deliver up West Point, of which hehad the command, to the enemy. If the plot had not been discovered andprevented it would have been a very great calamity to our country. Itmight have turned the scale against us. I have some personal reason tofeel indignant at the traitor, besides what arises from the love ofcountry; for my father was on picket guard at West Point, the night inwhich it was to have been delivered up, and would have been the firstman killed. If Arnold had been caught, he would have closed his careeron the gallows; but, as it was, he escaped, and a more worthy mansuffered. He received, as the reward of his treachery, the appointmentof Brigadier General in the British Army, and ten thousand poundssterling. But his name will go down with the history of his country, tothe latest generation, black with infamy. He was a bad boy, and he madea bad man. And, as Solomon has said, "The name of the wicked shall rot. "

GEORGE WASHINGTON. 

A single incident, in the history of _George Washington as a boy_, furnishes a clew to the character of _George Washington as a man_. Irefer to the well known story of the new hatchet and the cherry-tree, with his refusing to tell a lie; which I need not repeat, because it ispreserved in the books that are read in our common schools, and embalmedin the memory of the rising generation. This incident shows that he hadalready in his bosom a deep-seated principle of stern integrity, whichno temptation could shake. This was the leading feature in his characterwhen he became a man. We have evidence, also, from other incidents whichhave been related of his early life, that strong, deep-seated, filialpiety, was one of the prominent elements of his youthful character. Hehad learned, in early life, to honor and obey his parents; and thistaught him to love and reverence his country, instead of making himselfa despot, as most successful generals do. But, at the bottom of all, wasthe religious element. Religious principle controlled his conduct bothin private and public life. 

GOVERNOR RITNER. 

_Joseph Ritner_, who was for some time a member of the legislature ofPennsylvania, and afterwards Governor of that state, was once a boundboy to Jacob Myers, an independent farmer, who brought him up. While hewas governor, there was a celebration of the fourth of July, at whichMr. Myers gave the following toast:--"JOSEPH RITNER--he was always a_good boy_, and has still grown better; every thing he did, he alwaysdid _well_; he made a good _farmer_, and a good legislator; and he makesa _very good governor_. " All this man's greatness was the result of hisbeing a _good boy_. 

ROGER SHERMAN. 

_Roger Sherman_, in his public life, always acted so strictly from hisown convictions of what was right, that Fisher Ames used to say, if hehappened to be out of his seat in Congress when a subject was discussed, and came in when the question was about to be taken, he always felt safein voting as Mr. Sherman did, "_for he always voted right_. " This wasMr. Sherman's character everywhere. But, if we inquire how it came to besuch we must go back to his early life. 

Mr. Sherman's character was formed upon the principles of the Bible. And, when he was an apprentice, instead of joining in the rude andvulgar conversation, so common among the class to which he thenbelonged, he would sit at his work with a book before him, devotingevery moment to study, that his eyes could be spared from theoccupation in which he was engaged. When he was twenty-one years of agehe made a profession of religion. He was as familiar with theology as hewas with politics and law. He read the Bible more than any other book. Always, when he went to Congress, he would purchase a copy of the Bible, at the commencement of the session, to read every day; and when he wenthome, he would present it to one of his children. Mr. Macon, of Georgia, said of him, that he had more common sense than any man he ever knew. Mr. Jefferson, one day, as he was pointing out to a friend thedistinguished men in Congress, said of him, "That is Mr. Sherman, a manwho _never said a foolish thing in his life_. " Mr. Sherman was aself-educated man, a shoemaker, _and a Christian_. He was brought up, after the old New-England fashion, in a pious Connecticut family. _And, as was the boy, so was the man. _ If you would be a good man, you must bea good boy. If you would be a wise man you must be a studious boy. Ifyou would have an excellent character, it must be formed after the modeldelineated in the Holy Bible. The basis must be a change of heart. Thesuperstructure must be laid up on the principles of God's word. 

CHAPTER II. 

FILIAL PIETY. 

By _Filial Piety_, I mean the exercise of those feelings of reverence, submission, and love; and the faithful and conscientious discharge ofthose duties, which children owe their parents. 

The first duty which man owes, is to _God_; the second, to his_Parents_. They are his appointed guardians, in the season ofhelplessness and inexperience. God has entrusted him to their care; andin return for that care, he requires _honor and obedience_. A childcannot be pious toward God without being pious toward his parents. The_corner stone_ of a good character must be laid in piety towards God;the rest of the foundation, in piety towards Parents. Show me the boythat honors his parents, and I will show you the man that will obey thelaws of his country, and make a good citizen. Show me the boy that isdisobedient to his parents, and turbulent and ungovernable at home, andI will show you the man that will set at naught the laws of his country, and be ready to every evil work. When a boy ceases to respect his fatheror to love his mother, and becomes tired of home and its sacredendearments, there is very little hope of him. 

GEORGE WASHINGTON. 

When George Washington was about fourteen years of age, he wanted tojoin the Navy. Accordingly, all the arrangements were made for him, incompany with several of his young companions, to go on board a man ofwar. When the time arrived, he went into the sitting-room, to take leaveof his mother. He found her in tears. He threw his arms about her neckand kissed her, and was about bidding her "farewell;" but seeing her somuch afflicted, he suddenly relinquished his purpose. The boat which wastaking officers, men, and baggage, from the shore to the ship, went backand forth, in his sight. At length it came ashore for the last time. Asignal flag was raised to show that all was ready. George was standing, viewing all these movements. Several of his companions now entered theboat, and as they approached the ship, signal guns were fired; and soonafter, the sails rose majestically, one after another. George could nolonger bear the sight, but entered the room where his mother sat. Observing that his countenance bore a strong expression of grief, shesaid, "I fear, my son, that you have repented your determination to stayat home and make me happy. " "My dear mother, " he replied, placing hisarms round her neck, and giving vent to his feelings in a gush of tears, "I did strongly wish to go; but I could not endure being on board theship, and know that you were unhappy. " He was young, ardent, andambitious, and had doubtless anticipated, with great delight, thepleasure he should have, in sailing to different places, on board a manof war; and, although the expectation of pleasure which boys sometimesindulge, in the prospect of a sea-faring life are delusive; yet, it wasa noble generosity to sacrifice all the high hopes he had cherished, tothe feelings of his mother. 

_Obey God rather than man. _

As a general thing, it is the duty of children to obey their parents;but, when a parent commands what is wrong, the child should not obey. Apoor woman told her son to cut down a large pear tree, which stood inthe garden of the cottage where they lived, for firewood, as they weresuffering from cold. The boy made no answer. His mother repeated hercommand; but he still hesitated, and said, "Mother, I ought to obey you, but I must first obey God. The tree is not ours. It belongs to ourlandlord; and you know that God says, 'Thou shalt not steal. ' I hope youwill not make me cut it down. " She yielded, for the time; but aftersuffering from cold a day or two longer, she told him he must cut downthe tree. He then said to her, "Mother; God has often helped us, andsupplied our wants when we have been in trouble. Let us wait till thistime to-morrow. Then, if we do not find some relief, though I am sure itwill be wrong, yet if you make me do it, I will cut the tree inobedience to your command. " To this she agreed. The boy retired to hiscloset, and prayed earnestly that God would help them, and save him frombeing compelled to break his law. The next morning, he went out andfound a man whose wagon had broken down under a heavy load of coal. Hetold the man his case, who agreed to let him carry away the coal, andthey might pay for it, if they were able, when he called for it. But henever called. It is _always safe to do right_. 

_A son's love. _

A man in Sweden was condemned to suffer death for some offencescommitted while he held a public office. He had a son, about eighteenyears of age; who, as soon as he heard of it, hastened to the judge andbegged that he might be allowed to suffer instead of his father. Thejudge wrote to the king about it; who was so affected by it that he sentorders to grant the father a free pardon, and confer upon the son atitle of honor. This, however, the son refused to receive. "Of whatavail, " said he, "could the most exalted title be to me, humbled as myfamily already is in the dust?" The king wept, when he heard of it, andsent for the young man to his court. 

_Filial piety rewarded. _

Frederick, king of Prussia, one day rung his bell, and nobody answering, opened the door and found his page fast asleep. Seeing a letter in hispocket, he took it out and read it, and found it was a letter from hismother, thanking him for having sent a part of his wages to relieve herwants. The king was so much pleased that he slipped a bag full ofducats into the young man's pocket, along with the letter. 

_Filial Tenderness. _

A young man, newly admitted to the military school in France, would eatnothing but bread and soup, and drink nothing but water. He was reprovedfor his singularity; but still he would not change. He was finallythreatened with being sent home, if he persisted. "You will not, I hope, be displeased with me, " said he to the Principal of the institution;"but I could not bring myself to enjoy what I think a luxury, while Ireflect that my dear father and mother are in the utmost indigence. Theycould afford themselves and me no better food than the coarsest ofbread, and of that but very little. Here I have excellent soup, and asmuch fine wheat bread as I choose. I look upon this to be very goodliving; and the recollection of the situation in which I left myparents, would not permit me to indulge myself by eating any thingelse. "

_Filial impiety punished. _

God has promised long life and prosperity to the child that honors hisparents. Of course, this promise is not meant to be _absolute_; formany die before they have an opportunity of obeying the command, andothers are taken away for wise reasons. But, as a general principle, thepromise is verified. On the contrary, the word of God declares, "The eyethat mocketh at his father, and scorneth to obey his mother, the ravensof the valley shall pick it out, and the young eagles shall eat it;"meaning that God will visit with sore punishment those that despise andill-treat their parents. Boys, when they begin to approach manhood, arevery apt to think themselves wiser than their parents, and to be restiveand turbulent under restraint. Two young men in England, the sons ofpious and wealthy parents, wanted the family carriage to ride out andseek their pleasure on the holy Sabbath. This being repeatedly refused, they resolved to resent it; and accordingly went off with thedetermination to go to sea. Their father sent word to Rev. Mr. Griffin, of Portsea, requesting him to find them, and try to persuade them toreturn. He did so; and among other things, urged the feelings of theirparents; who, after watching over them with so much care and tenderanxiety, must now see all their hopes blasted. This touched the heart ofthe younger, and he consented to return; but the elder was obstinate. The carriage, he said, had been refused, he had made up his mind to goto sea, and to sea he would go. Mr. Griffin then requested the young manto go with him to his house, and he would get him a ship that he mightgo out as a man and a gentleman. This he declined, giving as a reason, that it would make his parents _feel_ to have it said that their sonwent out as a common sailor; as a common sailor, therefore, he would go. "Is that your disposition?" said Mr. Griffin; "then, young man, go; andwhile I say, God go with you, be sure your sin will find you out, andfor it God will bring you into judgment. " The younger son was restoredto his parents, while all traces of the elder were lost, and he wasmourned for as for one dead. 

After a considerable time, a sailor called on Mr. Griffin, and informedhim that there was a young man on board one of the ships in the harbor, under sentence of death, who wanted to see him. What was hisastonishment, on finding the young man, who had gone to sea to berevenged on his parents for refusing him a sinful indulgence, aprisoner, manacled and guarded! "I have sent for you, " said the youngman, "to take my last farewell of you in this world, and to bless youfor your efforts to restore me to a sense of my duty. Would to God thatI had taken your advice; but it is now to late. My sin _has_ found meout, and for it God _has_ brought me into judgment. " Mr. Griffin spentsome time with the young man in conversation and prayer; and thenhastened to London, to see if he could not get him pardoned. But, whenhe arrived there, the warrant had already been sent for the young man'sexecution. He returned home, and arrived on the morning that the youngman was to be executed. Within a few minutes after his arrival came apardon, with which he hastened to the ship, where he met the young man'sfather, in the greatest agony, as he was returning from taking, as hesupposed, his last farewell of his son. Mr. Griffin entered the vesselat the moment when the prisoner, pinioned for execution, was advancingtowards the fatal spot. In a few moments, he was restored to theembrace, of his father. Thus he suffered shame and ignominy, and theagonies of death, as a punishment for his disobedience to his parents;though, in consequence of his penitence, his life was spared. 

_Think how you will feel when your parents are gone. _

A young man was lamenting the death of a most affectionate parent. Hiscompanions, to console him, said that he had always behaved to thedeceased with tenderness, duty, and respect. "So I thought, " he replied, "while my parent was living; but now I recollect with pain and sorrow, many instances of disobedience and neglect, for which, alas, it is toolate to make any atonement. " If you would avoid this bitter reflection, ask yourself, when disposed to do any thing that will grieve yourparents, "With what feelings shall I think of this, when they are deadand gone?"

_Benefit of Obedience. _

A boy wishing, one afternoon, to go with some other boys, on a sailingexcursion, asked permission of his mother, which was not granted. Aftera severe struggle in his mind between inclination and duty, he gave uphis anticipated pleasure, and remained at home. The other boys went. Asudden flaw of wind capsized their boat, and two of them were drowned. The boy, when he heard of it, was much affected, and said to his mother, "_After this I shall always do as you say. _"

_Reward of Disobedience. _

Another boy was charged by his father, as he was going away, to be gonea few days, not to go on the pond. Saturday, being his holiday, he askedpermission of his mother to go a skating. She told him he might skateabout in the fields and by the sides of the road, on such patches of iceas he could find; "but, " said she, "be sure you do not go on the pond. "He went out; and contrary to the strict charges he had received from hisparents, he went on the pond. He thought there was no danger; for theice was a foot thick. But there was a place that had been cut open toget ice, where he and his companions fell in, and he was drowned!

Some years ago, a boy in Woburn, named William Wheat, came to a terribleend in consequence of disobedience to his parents. Three Sabbaths beforehis death, he left the Sabbath School, and went to a public house--aplace where no boy should go, on any day, unless sent on business. Thenext Sabbath, his teacher reproved him, and he was very angry, anddeclared it was the last time he should ever enter the Sabbath School;which proved true. The next Sabbath, he did not go; and the followingWednesday, he got an old gun barrel, which his parents had repeatedlyforbidden him to meddle with, and charging it with powder, applied alucifer match, to "fire off his _cannon_, " as he called it. The gunburst and killed him instantly. Here was a boy of a turbulentungovernable disposition, despising the authority of his parents and thelaw of God. He only came to the end to which the road, in which hewalked, naturally leads. 

Boys should never attempt to set up their own judgment against that oftheir parents. When a parent denies the requests of his children, hedoes it, not to deprive them of pleasure, but because he sees a goodreason for it. If the child submits, he will one day see that hisparents had a good reason, although he could not then perceive it. Letthis reflection silence all murmuring: "_My father and mother knowbetter than I. _" The truth of this is clearly proved in the foregoingcases. 

_Conscientious Obedience. _

Some children obey their parents because it is right, and because theylove them. This is true, conscientious obedience--the obedience of theheart. And those who render to their parents this kind of obedience, will be just as careful to obey them, when out of their sight, as intheir presence; and they will be careful not to _evade_ their commands. They only want to know the wishes of their parents, promptly to obeythem. 

The shouts of half a dozen children were heard from the piazza of one ofthe large boarding houses at Saratoga Springs--"O yes; that's capital!so we will! Come on now! there's William Hale! Come on, William, we'regoing to have a ride on the Circular Railway. Come with us?" "Yes, if mymother is willing. I will run and ask her, " replied William. "O, O! soyou must run and ask your _ma_. Great baby, run along to your ma! Ain'tyou ashamed? I didn't ask my mother. " "Nor I. " "Nor I, " added half adozen voices. "Be a man, William, " cried the first voice, --"come alongwith us, if you don't want to be called a coward as long as you live. Don't you see we are all waiting?"

William was standing with one foot advanced, and his hand firmlyclenched, in the midst of the group, with flushed brow, flashing eye, compressed lip, and changing cheek, all showing how the epithet _coward_rankled in his breast. It was doubted, for a moment, whether he wouldhave the true bravery to be called a coward rather than do wrong. But, with a voice trembling with emotion, he replied, "I _will not_ gowithout I ask my mother; and I am no coward either. I promised her Iwould not go from the house without permission, and I _should_ be abase coward, if I were to tell her a wicked lie. "

In the evening, William was walking in the parlor, among the crowd, withhis mother, a Southern lady, of gentle, polished manners, who lookedwith pride on her graceful boy, whose fine face was fairly radiant withanimation and intelligence. Well might she be proud of such a son, whocould dare to do right, when all were tempting him to do wrong. 

_Cheerful Obedience, Sullen Obedience, and Disobedience. _

When children are away from home, they are bound to obey those to whosecare their parents have entrusted them. Three boys, Robert, George, andAlfred, went to spend a week with a gentleman, who took them to beagreeable, well-behaved boys. There was a great pond near his house, with a flood-gate, where the water ran out. It was cold weather, and thepond was frozen over; but the gentleman knew that the ice was very thinnear the flood-gate. The first morning after they came, he told themthey might go and slide on the pond, if they would not go near theflood-gate. Soon after they were gone, he followed them to see that theywere safe. When he got there, he found Robert sliding in the very placewhere he had told him not to go. This was disobedience outright. Georgewas walking sullenly by the side of the pond, not so much as sliding atall, because he had been forbidden to venture on the dangerous part. This was _sullen obedience_; which is, in reality, no obedience at all, because it comes not from the heart. But Alfred was cheerfully enjoyinghimself, in a capital long slide, upon a safe part of the pond. This wastrue obedience. Suddenly, the ice broke where Robert was sliding, heimmediately went under water, and it was with difficulty that his lifewas saved. The gentleman concluded that Alfred was a lad of integrity, but that his two brothers were not to be trusted. Obedience secured himhappiness, and the confidence of the kind gentleman with whom he wasstaying; while the others deprived themselves of enjoyment, lost thegentleman's confidence, and one of them nearly lost his life; and yet, to slide on the dangerous part of the pond would have added nothing totheir enjoyment. They desired it from mere wilfulness, _because it wasforbidden_. This disposition indulged, will always lead boys intodifficulty; and if they cherish it while boys, it will go with themthrough life, and keep them always "_in hot water_. "

CHAPTER III. 

SOCIAL VIRTUES AND VICES. 

SECTION I. --BROTHERLY AFFECTION. 

_Sergeant Glanville. _

Customs vary in different countries. In England, when a man dies withoutmaking a will, his property goes to his eldest son. Mr. Glanville, wholived in the days of Charles II. , had an eldest son, who was incurablyvicious; and seeing no hope of reforming him, the father gave hisproperty to his second son. When Mr. Sergeant Glanville died, and hiseldest son learned what was done, he became greatly dejected, and in ashort time his character underwent an entire change. When his brotherperceived this, he invited him and a party of his friends to a feast. After several dishes had been served, he ordered one, covered up, to beset before his brother; which on being opened, was found to contain thewritings that conveyed to him the estate. This, he remarked was what hewas sure his father would have done, had he lived to witness the happychange which they saw. 

_Generosity of an elder brother. _

Mr. H----, an ingenious artist, for want of employment, was reduced togreat distress, and applied to his elder brother, who was in goodcircumstances, and begged some little hovel to live in, and someprovision for his support. His brother was melted to tears: "You, mydear brother, " said he, "you live in a hovel! You are a man; you are anhonor to the family. I am nothing. You shall take this house and estate, and I will be your guest, if you please. " The two brothers lived thusaffectionately together, as if it had been common property, till thedeath of the elder put the artist in possession of the whole. How happyevery family of brothers would be, if they would thus share with eachother all they have! It would save all disputing about _mine_ and_thine_. Every one would be equally pleased that his brother wasenjoying any thing, as if he had it himself. 

SECTION II. --THE GOLDEN RULE. 

GENEROUS BLACKSMITH. 

Mr. Wilson, passing late one evening by a blacksmith's shop, and hearingthe sound of the hammer much later than usual, stepped in to inquire thecause. The man told him that one of his neighbors had just been burnedout, and had lost every thing; and he had undertaken to work an hourearlier in the morning and an hour later at night to help him. 

"This is kind, in you, " said Mr. Wilson; "for I suppose your neighborwill never be able to pay you again. "

"I do not expect it, " replied the blacksmith; "but if I were in hissituation, and he in mine, I am sure he would do as much for me. "

The next morning, Mr. Wilson called and offered to lend the blacksmithfifty dollars without interest, so that he might be able to buy hisiron cheaper. But the man refused to take it, but told Mr. Wilson that, if he would lend it to the man whose house was burned down, it would gofar towards helping him rebuild his cottage. To this, Mr. Wilsonconsented, and had the pleasure of making two men happy. 

_Michael Verin. _

Michael Verin, a Florentine youth, was always foremost; and hiscompositions being more correct than those of any other boy in school, he always obtained the first prize. One of his school-fellows, namedBelvicino, studied hard night and day, but could never get the prize. This grieved him so much that he pined away and grew sick. Verin wasstrongly attached to Belvicino; and, discovering the cause of hisillness, he determined to remove it. The next composition day, he madeseveral faults in his Greek version. Belvicino's was judged the best, and he took the prize. This so delighted him that he quickly recoveredhis health and spirits. But he would never have known to whom he wasindebted for his success, had not the preceptor pressed Verin to tellhim why he had made such palpable faults in his composition. 

SECTION III. --GRATITUDE AND BENEVOLENCE. 

PLANTING TREES. 

An old man was busily employed in planting and grafting an apple tree. Some one passing by, rudely accosted him with the inquiry, "Why do _you_plant trees, who cannot hope to eat the fruit of them?" The old manraised himself up, and leaning on his spade, replied, "Some one plantedtrees before I was born, and I have eaten the fruit; I now plant forothers, that the memorial of my gratitude may exist when I am dead andgone. " It is a very narrow, selfish feeling that confines our viewswithin the circle of our own private interests. If man had been made tolive for himself alone, we may justly conclude that every one would havebeen made by himself, and his bounds marked out, so that he might livealone. But since God has made us to live in society, he designs that weshould be helpful to each other. The truly ingenuous, benevolent mind, takes more pleasure in an act which will confer blessings upon others, than in one that terminates on himself. The selfish man wraps himself inhis cloak, and cares not for the sufferings of others, so that he keepswarm himself. This old man, however, remembered how much he was indebtedto those who had lived before him, and resolved to pay his debts. If wewould look around us, we should find ourselves indebted to others, onevery side, for the comforts which we now enjoy--first to God, and underhim, to those whom he has employed as his agents to give them to us. Ought we not, then, to strive in some measure to repay theseobligations, by doing something to promote the happiness and well-beingof others? Who gave us the Gospel? The missionaries, who preached thegospel to our Saxon ancestors, and the Reformers, who opened thetreasures of God's word, when they were hid under the rubbish of Popishsuperstition. Ought we not, then, in return for this, to send theblessed gospel to those who are now destitute? Who gave us our civil andreligious liberties? Our fathers who braved the ocean and the wildernessto establish it, and the sword of the mother country to maintain it. Ought we not, then, to transmit this precious boon to our posterity? Andso in whatever direction we look, we shall find some blessing for whichwe are indebted to the noble generosity, public spirit, or christianbenevolence of others. Let us return the blessing, with interest, intothe bosom of others. Dr. Franklin, having done a favor to some one, andbeing pressed with thanks, requested the person whom he had obliged toembrace the first opportunity of doing a kindness to some other person, and request him to pass it round, as all mankind are friends andbrothers. A greater than he has said, "It is more blessed to give thanto receive. "

_Thomas Cromwell. _

Francis Frescobald, a rich Florentine merchant, had become noted for hisliberality to the needy and destitute. A young Englishman, named ThomasCromwell, the son of a poor man, had gone into Italy with the Frencharmy, where he found himself in a destitute condition. Hearing of theliberality of Frescobald, he applied to him for aid; who, havinginquired into his circumstances, took him to his house, clothed himgenteelly, and kept him till he had recovered his strength. He then gavehim a good horse, with sixteen ducats of gold in his pockets; withwhich, after expressing his gratitude to his benefactor, he made his wayhome. After his arrival in England, he was taken into the service ofCardinal Wolsey, who was then the favorite of King Henry VIII. , and hisPrime Minister. After the death of the Cardinal, Cromwell became theKing's favorite; who made him a baron, a viscount, Earl of Essex, andfinally, lord chancellor of England. 

Frescobald the rich Florentine merchant, by repeated losses both at seaand on the land, was now reduced to poverty. Some English merchants, however, were owing him fifteen thousand ducats, and he came to Englandto collect the money. The lord chancellor, as he was riding to court, met him in the street, and immediately alighted and embraced him; andwithout waiting for his old friend to recognize him, invited him to dinewith him. Frescobald, after recollecting himself, concluded it must bethe young Englishman whom he had assisted, and therefore complied withthe invitation. When the chancellor returned from court, with a numberof the nobility, he introduced them to the merchant, and related thestory of the assistance he had received from him in a time of need. After the company were gone, Cromwell inquired of Frescobald what hadbrought him to England, who related to him his misfortunes. "I am sorryfor them, " said he; "and I will make them as easy to you as I can. But, because men ought to be just before they are kind, it is fit I shouldrepay the debt I owe you. " Then leading him to a closet, he took outsixteen ducats and gave them to Frescobald, saying, "My friend, here isthe money you lent me at Florence, with ten pieces you laid out for myapparel, and ten more you paid out for my horse; but, considering thatyou are a merchant, and might have made some advantage by this money inthe way of trade, take these four bags, in every one of which are fourhundred ducats, and enjoy them as free gifts of your friend. " TheseFrescobald would have refused, but Cromwell forced them upon him. Hethen took the names of his debtors and the sums they owed, and sent hisservant to demand their payment in fifteen days. In a short time, theentire sum was paid. During this time Frescobald lodged at Cromwell'shouse; and the latter would have persuaded him to remain in England; buthe chose to return to Florence. Here is a fine illustration of thatpassage of Scripture, which says, "Cast thy bread upon the waters, forthou shalt find it after many days. "

_Lending to the Lord_. 

Solomon says, "He that hath pity on the poor lendeth unto the Lord; andthat which he hath given will he pay him again. " The following anecdoteaffords a very striking illustration of the truth of this passage:

In the year 1797, as Mr. M. ---- was travelling among the mountains inVermont he was overtaken by a thunder shower, and sought shelter in asmall house, on the borders of a great forest. On entering the house andfinding no one but a woman and her infant he apologized, and asked theprivilege of stopping till the shower was over. The woman said she wasglad to have him come in, for she was always terrified by thunder. Thegentleman told her she need not be terrified at thunder, if she onlytrusted in God. After conversing with her some time on this subject, heinquired whether she had any neighbors, who were religious. She told himshe had neighbors about two miles off, but whether they were religiousor not, she could not tell. She heard that they had preaching there oncea fortnight, but she never attended their meetings. She appeared to beextremely ignorant on the subject of religion. The rain had now passedover, and all nature smiled. The traveller, as he was about to leave, thanked the woman for her kindness, and expressed to her his earnestdesire for the salvation of her soul, and besought her to read the Bibledaily, and give diligent heed to its instructions. But she, with tearsin her eyes, confessed that she had no Bible. They had never been able, she said, to buy one. "Could you read one if you had it?" he inquired. She said she could, and would be very glad of the privilege. "Poorwoman, " said he, "I do heartily pity you: farewell. "

As the traveller was preparing to go, he thought to himself, "This womanis in very great want of a Bible. O that I had one to give her! But Ihave not. As for money to buy one, I have none to spare. I have no morethan will be absolutely necessary for my expenses home. I must go: butif I leave this woman without the means to procure the word of God, shemay perish for lack of knowledge. What shall I do?" These passages ofScripture then came to his mind, "He that hath pity on the poor lendethto the Lord. " "Cast thy bread upon the waters, for thou shalt find itafter many days. " He said in his heart, "I will trust in the Lord. " Hetook a dollar from his purse, went back and gave it to the woman, telling her to buy a Bible with it. She promised to do so, and said sheknew where one could be obtained. 

The traveller set out, and when night came he took lodgings at a privatehouse. He had a little change left, but as he had two days more totravel, he thought he would make his supper on a cold morsel, which hehad with him. But, when the family came to the table, he was urged totake a seat with them, and invited to ask a blessing. He now began tofeel himself among friends, and at liberty to speak of divine things;and the family seemed gratified in listening to his conversation. In themorning, he offered to pay for his lodging, but the people would takenothing. He travelled on, till late in the morning, when, finding nohotel, he stopped at a private house for breakfast. While waiting, helost no time to recommend Christ to the family. When ready to depart, the mistress of the house would take nothing for his breakfast, or theoats, which his horse had eaten. And so he went on, asking for andreceiving refreshment when he wanted it, and offering to pay for it, asany other traveller would do; but no one would take any thing, althoughthey did not know but he had plenty of money. "What does this mean?"said he to himself. "I was never treated in this manner on a journeybefore. " He recollected the dollar he had given the poor woman, and thepassage of Scripture, which induced him to do it, and said, "I have beenwell paid. It is indeed safe lending to the Lord. " On the second dayafter he left the cottage in the wilderness, he arrived safely at home, having been at no expense on the way. The Lord has the control of allevents. The hearts of all men are in his hands. It was He who inclinedthe hearts of the people to be kind and hospitable to his servant, andto ask no pay for what they gave him. 

About a year and a half after this, a stranger called at Mr. M. 's house, and asked for some refreshment. In the course of their conversation, Mr. M. Asked the stranger whether the people in those parts where he livedpaid much attention to religion. 

"Not much, " he replied; "but in a town twenty or thirty miles distant, there has been a powerful revival. The commencement of it was veryextraordinary. The first person that was awakened and brought torepentance, was a poor woman, who lived in a very retired place. Shetold her friends and neighbors that a stranger was driven into her houseby a thunder storm, and talked to her so seriously, that she began, while listening to his discourse to feel concerned about her soul. Thegentleman was much affected, when he found she had no Bible; and afterhe had left the house to go on his journey, returned again, and gave hera dollar to buy one; and charged her to get it soon, and read itdiligently. She did so; and it had been the means, as she believed, ofher salvation. The neighbors wondered at this; and it was the means ofawakening them to a deep concern for the salvation of their souls. Asmany as thirty or forty are rejoicing in God their Savior. " Mr. M. Whohad listened to this narrative, with his heart swelling more and morewith wonder, gratitude, and joy, could refrain no longer; but with handsand eyes raised to heaven, exclaimed, "My God, thou hast paid me again!"

When we lend to the Lord, he always pays us with "good measure, presseddown and running over. "

_An Indian story_. 

In the early settlement of this country a strange Indian arrived at aninn in Litchfield, Connecticut, and asked for something to eat; at thesame time saying that, as he had been unsuccessful in hunting, he hadnothing to pay. The woman who kept the inn, not only refused hisreasonable request, but called him hard names. But a man who sat by, seeing that the Indian was suffering for want of food, told her to givehim what he wanted at his expense. When the Indian had finished hissupper, he thanked the man, and assured him that he should be faithfullyrecompensed, whenever it was in his power. 

Some years after this, the man had occasion to go from Litchfield toAlbany, where he was taken prisoner by the Indians, and carried toCanada. Some of them proposed that he should be put to death; but an oldwoman demanded that he should be given to her, that she might adopt himin place of a son, who had been killed in the war. This was done, and hepassed the winter in her family. The next summer, while he was at workalone in the woods, a strange Indian came and asked him to go to acertain place on a given day, which he agreed to do; though he had somefears that mischief was intended. His fears increased, and his promisewas broken. But the Indian came again and renewed the request. The manmade another engagement, and kept his word. On reaching the spot, hefound the Indian provided with ammunition, two muskets, and twoknapsacks. He was ordered to take one of each; which he did, andfollowed his conductor. In the day time, they shot the game that camein their way, and at night, they kindled a fire and slept by it. Butthe Indian observed a mysterious silence as to the object of theirexpedition. After travelling in this manner many days, they came to thetop of a mountain, from which they saw a number of houses in the midstof a cultivated country. The Indian asked him if he knew the ground, andhe eagerly answered, "_It is Litchfield?_" The Indian then recalled tohis mind the scene at the inn, and bidding him farewell, exclaimed, "_Iam that Indian!_ Now I pray you go home. "

_Example of Disinterested Benevolence. _

A traveller in Asia Minor, in a time of distressing drought, found avase of water under a little shed by the road-side, for the refreshmentof the weary traveller. A man in the neighborhood was in the habit ofbringing the water from a considerable distance, and filling the vaseevery morning, and then going to his work. He could have had no motiveto do this, but a kind regard to the comfort of weary travellers, for hewas never there to receive their thanks, much less their money. This wasbenevolence. 

SECTION IV. --MANNERS. 

POLITENESS. 

Rev. Dr. Witherspoon, President of New-Jersey College, once gave out_Politeness_, to a division of one of his classes, as a subject forcomposition. The young gentlemen were delighted with it; and when thetime came for reading, some of them expatiated upon it largely, learnedly, and politely. After they had all read, they waited for thePresident to sum up their observations, and then state his own views. But, he told them, he should only give them a short definition, whichthey might always remember. "POLITENESS, " said he, "IS REAL KINDNESS, KINDLY EXPRESSED. " This is the sum and substance of all true politeness;and if my readers will put it in practice, they will be surprised to seehow every body will be charmed with their manners. 

_Good Breeding_. 

Gassendi was a youth of such extraordinary abilities and attainments asto command universal admiration; but in his manners he was generallysilent, never ostentatiously obtruding upon others his own knowledge. Hewas never in a hurry to give his opinion before he knew that of thepersons who were conversing with him. He was never fond of displayinghimself. 

I knew a young man whose behavior was directly the opposite ofGassendi's: a _compound of ignorance_, _self-conceit_, _and impudence_. He was forward to talk in all companies. His opinion, on all subjects, was _cheap_--a gift that went a-begging. He could tell the farmer how totill the soil; the mechanic how to use his tools; the merchant, how tomake his gains; the doctor, how to cure his patient; the minister, howto preach; and the cook, how to bake her bread. He wanted only a _pairof long ears_ to complete his character. 

SECTION V. --OVERCOME EVIL WITH GOOD. 

A BLACK BOY

Some boys are mean enough to ridicule others for natural defects, forwhich they are not to blame; and it is a very common thing to considerthe color of the skin as a mark of inferiority. But even if it were so, it would be no ground of reproach, for it is the color which God gave. Mr. Southey, the poet, relates that, when he was a small boy, there wasa black boy in the neighborhood, who was called _Jim Dick_. Southey anda number of his play fellows, as they were collected together oneevening at their sports, began to torment the poor black boy, callinghim "_nigger_, " "_blackamoor_, " and other nicknames. The poor fellow wasvery much grieved, and soon left them. Soon after, these boy's had anappointment to go a skating, and on that day Southey broke his skates. After all his rude treatment of poor Jim, he was mean enough to go andask him to lend his skates. "O yes, John, " Jim replied, "you may havethem and welcome. " When he went to return them, he found Jim sitting inthe kitchen reading his Bible. As Southey handed Dick his skates, thelatter looked at him with tears in his eyes, and said, "John, don't evercall me blackamoor again, " and immediately left the room. Southey burstinto tears, and from that time resolved never again to abuse a poorblack--a resolution which I hope every one of my readers will make andnever break. But, if you will follow the example of this poor coloredboy, and return good for evil, you will always find it the bestretaliation you can make for an injury. 

_The converted soldier. _

A soldier in the East Indies, a stout, lion-looking, lion-hearted man, had been a noted prizefighter, and a terror to those who knew him. Withone blow he could level a strong man to the ground. That man saunteredinto the mission chapel, heard the gospel, and was alarmed. He returnedagain and again, and at last, light broke in upon his mind, and hebecame a new creature. The change in his character was marked anddecided. The lion was changed into a lamb. Two months afterwards, in themess-room, some of those who had been afraid of him before began toridicule him. One of them said, "I'll put it to the test whether he is aChristian or not;" and taking a basin of hot soup, he threw it into hisbosom. The whole company gazed in breathless silence, expecting that thelion would start up, and murder him on the spot. But after he had tornopen his waistcoat, and wiped his scalded breast, he calmly turned roundand said, "This is what I must expect: If I become a Christian, I mustsuffer persecution. " His comrades were filled with astonishment. Thiswas overcoming evil with good. If the reader will follow this man'sexample, he will save himself a world of difficulty. 

_The forgiving school boy. _

In a school in Ireland, one boy struck another; and when he was about tobe punished, the injured boy earnestly begged for his pardon. The masterinquired why he wished to prevent so deserved a punishment; to which hereplied, that he had read in the New-Testament that Jesus Christ said weshould forgive our enemies; "and I forgive him, and beg he may not bepunished for my sake. "

SECTION VI. --USE OF THE TONGUE. 

ADVANTAGES OF SPEAKING THE TRUTH. 

It is a great advantage to any one to have the confidence of others, sofar that his word will always be taken for the exact truth. Thisconfidence is to be acquired only by always speaking the truth; andespecially, by adhering so closely to the fact that people will not onlybelieve that we mean to speak the truth, but that they will feelconfident that we have neither mistaken the facts, nor added anycoloring, nor kept back any thing, to make it appear different from thereality. The following story shows how great an advantage one may derivefrom having this confidence in his strict veracity established:

_Petrarch_, the celebrated Italian poet, by his strict regard for truth, secured the unbounded confidence of Cardinal Colonna, in whose familyhe resided. A violent quarrel broke out among the Cardinal's numerousfamily of servants, which ended in a fight. The Cardinal, in order toinvestigate the affair, and punish the offenders, assembled all hispeople and put them under oath to tell the whole truth. Everyone tookthe oath, not excepting the bishop of Luna, the Cardinal's own brother. Petrarch, in his turn, presented himself, but the Cardinal closed thebook, saying, "As to you, Petrarch, your word is sufficient. " Ourreaders will perceive how great an advantage it will be to them to havealways such a strict regard to the exact truth, that their word will beconsidered as good as an oath. 

_Remember the bright side. _

When Peter the Great heard any one speaking ill of another, he wouldinquire, "Is there not a _fair side_, also, to the character of theperson of whom you are speaking? Come, tell me what _good_ qualities youhave remarked about him. " If, in speaking of others, we should lookalways at the _fair side_, and see what good things we can say of them, it would make us feel better towards them; it would be doing them aservice instead of an injury; it would tend to make _peace_, rather thanfoment strife. 

SECTION VII. --PUNCTUALITY. 

EXAMPLE OF WASHINGTON. 

When Washington appointed the hour of twelve to meet Congress, he neverfailed to be passing the door of the hall while the clock was strikingtwelve. His dinner hour was four o'clock. If his guests were not thereat the time, he never waited for them. New members of Congress, who wereinvited to dine with him, would frequently come in when dinner was halfover; and he would say to them, "Gentlemen, we are punctual here. Mycook never asks whether the company has arrived, but whether the hourhas. " In 1799, when on a visit to Boston, he appointed eight o'clock inthe morning as the hour when he would set out for Salem. While the OldSouth clock was striking eight, he was mounting his horse. The companyof cavalry, who had volunteered to escort him, was parading in Tremontstreet, and did not overtake him till he had reached Charles RiverBridge. On their arrival, the General said, "Major, I thought you hadbeen too long in my family not to know when it was eight o'clock. "

_Samuel Wesley, Esq. _

Samuel Wesley, Esq. , was one of the greatest musicians of his age. Hismusical powers were developed while he was a child, and excited thegreatest admiration. But he was as great a lover of regular habits as ofsong. No company or persuasion could keep him up beyond his regular timefor going to bed. For this reason, he could seldom be persuaded to go toa concert in the night. The moment the clock struck eight, away ranSamuel, in the midst of his most favorite amusement. Once he rose upfrom the first part of the _Messiah_, saying, "Come, mamma, let us gohome, or I shan't be in bed by eight. " When some friends talked ofcarrying him to the queen, and his father asked him if he was willing togo, he replied, "Yes, with all my heart; but I won't stay beyond eight. "This was a wise resolution; for children are sadly injured, by beingkept up late at night. 

_Five minutes too late. _

The following amusing sketch, though perhaps fictitious, gives a prettyfaithful picture of many a man's life:

"When a child, I was scolded for being too late at school; when a boy, Iwas cuffed and kicked for being too late at my work; and when a man, Iwas turned away for being behind my time on a particular occasion whenmy services were wanted. 

"My uncle Jonathan was well to do in the world, and as his nephews werehis nearest relations, we had reason to expect that his property wouldcome among us. He had, however, one peculiarity, which effectually shuthis door against me. He never was five minutes too late in anappointment in his life, and thought most contemptuously of those whowere. I really believe that I was a bit of a favorite with him until myunfortunate failing justly offended him. 

"He had occasion to go a journey, and I was directed to be with him atseven in the morning, to carry his portmanteau to the coach. Alas! I was"Five minutes too late, " and he had left the house. 

"Knowing his particularity, I hurried after him, and running till Icould scarcely stand, arrived at one end of the street just in time tosee the coach go off with my uncle at the other. Dearly did I pay forbeing "Five minutes too late. "

"My Uncle did not return for a month, and certainly showed moreforbearance toward me than he was ever known to do on a similaroccasion; for in a letter he stated, that if I could be punctual, heshould wish me to meet him on his return, to take charge of hisportmanteau, and thereby make some amends for my misconduct. Off I set, but knowing that coaches frequently arrive a quarter of an hour aftertheir set time, I thought a minute or two could be of no consequence. The coach unfortunately, was "horridly exact, " and once more I was aftermy time, just "Five minutes too late. "

"My Uncle Jonathan never forgave me, fully believing that I had done iton purpose to get rid of the trouble of carrying his portmanteau. Yearsrolled away, and I was not so much as permitted to enter the door of myUncle Jonathan. 

"Time, however, heals many a sore, and while it ruffles many a smoothbrow, smooths many a ruffled temper. My Uncle Jonathan so far relented, that when about to make his will, he sent to me to call upon himexactly at ten o'clock. Determined to be in time, I set off, allowingmyself some minutes to spare and pulling out my watch at the door, foundthat for once in my life I had kept my appointment to the second. Theservant, to my surprise, told me, that my Uncle Jonathan had ordered thedoor to be shut in my face for being behind my time. It was then I foundout my watch was too slow, and that I was exactly "Five minutes toolate. "

"Had I been earlier on that occasion I might have been provided for, butnow I am a poor man, and a poor man I am likely to remain. However, goodmay arise from my giving this short account of my foolish habit, as itmay possibly convince some of the value of punctuality, and dispose themto avoid the manifold evils of being "Five minutes too late. ""

Few young persons are sensible of the importance of punctuality, becausethey are not aware of the value of time. But time is money; and to rob aman of his time, by obliging him to wait beyond the appointed hour tomeet your engagement with him, is equivalent to robbing him of so muchmoney as he could have earned in the lost time. The _habit_ ofpunctuality must be acquired early. Be punctual in the family andschool, and you will be a punctual man. 

SECTION VIII. --CONTENTION. 

DANGER OF CONTENTION. 

Quarrelling generally arises from selfishness and anger. Selfishness isgrasping. It respects not the rights of others. It will yield none ofits own. The selfish person is therefore continually coming in conflictwith others; and, as impediments are thrown in the way of hisgratification, his passions are roused. Anger is a species of insanity. When one yields to his passions, he loses self-control. He takes anenemy into his bosom, and suffers himself to be nosed about by him atwill. No one can tell what dreadful thing he may do when once he gives aloose rein to his passions. 

"The beginning of strife is as the letting out of waters. " When you opena little drain to a pond of water, it runs slowly at first, in a verysmall stream; but the body of water above rushes into the channel andwears it deeper, and that increases the pressure and widens it stillmore, till presently the whole body comes pouring forth in anirresistible torrent. One dry season, in the summer, a man in Vermont, who owned a mill, on a small stream near a large pond, found his waterfailing, so that his mill was likely to stop. To prevent this, hecollected together a few of the neighbors, and dug a little trench fromthe pond to the stream that carried his mill. At first it ran veryslowly and quietly along, till it began to wear away the channel, and toturn the force of the body of water in the pond in that direction, whenit increased violently, tore away the banks, and poured the wholecontents of the pond into the little stream, carried off the mill, andrushed on with impetuous fury through the valley, sweeping away fences, bridges, barns, houses, and every thing that came in its way. 

At a place called _Brag Corner_, in the State of Maine, a small streamfalls into the Sandy river, on which a superior grist-mill was erected afew years since. The stream not affording water enough, a pondcontaining fifty or one hundred acres, having no outlet, and lying twohundred feet above the level where the mill stood, was connected withthe stream that carried the mill by an artificial canal. The water ofthe pond began to gully away the gravel over which it was made to run, and having formed a regular channel, defied all human control, and, inthe space of six hours, cut a ravine seventy feet deep, and let out thewhole pond, sweeping away the mill, foundation and all, and carryingaway a house and blacksmith's shop, which stood near, not giving theowner time to save any thing of consequence from his house. 

Such, Solomon says, is strife. When you begin to quarrel, you know notwhere it will end. It not unfrequently terminates in the death of one ofthe parties, as in the following case: A boy about eleven years of age, son of Mr. Philip Petty, of Westport, R. I. , took his father's gun, ashe said, to go a gunning. His elder brother attempted to take it fromhim. A quarrel ensued, between the two brothers, and in the course ofthe scuffle, the gun went off and lodged the contents in the youngerone's bowels. He lingered a few hours in great agony and died. How mustthe other one feel, to think that the quarrel, which he began, led tothe death of his brother. How much safer to take Solomon's advice, and"leave off contention before it be meddled with. "

_Danger of Indulging anger. _

Frederick Jones was the son of a rich manufacturer. His father beingengrossed in business, the children were left to the care of theirmother, who, being a weak woman, did not restrain them as she ought. There were four, but three of them died; and Frederick being left theonly child, was indulged still more. At a very early age he showed hisangry temper; and he became such a little tyrant that the very dogs andcats about the house were afraid of him. Once, when he was three yearsold, he insisted that he would have the silver tea-urn, to drag aboutthe room by a string for his coach. And, because his mother refused tolet him do so, he seized her cap and tore it from her head. 

When Frederick was ten years old, he went into the kitchen, where theservants used to let him do as he pleased for fear of his dreadfultemper; for they called him "_Mamma's pet lion_. " He had not been longthere before he upset the table, knocked down the shovel and tongs, andbroke several plates. Not satisfied with this, he collected all the tinthings in the middle of the floor, and began battering them with thetongs. The cook, not being very well pleased with this destruction, undertook to lead him out of the kitchen. But the little fury, byshrieking and scratching, got free, and seizing a fork, he threw it atthe cook, which struck her in the eye and put it out. Thus, by thefoolish anger of this little boy, a poor woman lost the sight of her eyeentirely. This shows the danger of indulging angry passions; for no oneknows what a dreadful deed he may commit in a fit of anger. It showsalso the danger of throwing things at others. It is a very dangerouspractice, and sometimes leads to the loss of life. 

A little while after this, Frederick was playing at the front door ofthe house, when a boy passing on the other side of the street, calledout, "Hallo, Master Fred. , have you put any more people's eyes outlately?" This was enough to make him angry. He immediately picked up alarge stone, and chasing the boy some distance, threw it at him with allhis might. The boy was out of the way of the stone, but it struck alarge bull-dog, which, naturally enough, concluded that he was unjustlyattacked, and turning upon Frederick, gave him a severe bite in the leg, and tossed him into the gutter. Frederick roared aloud with pain andrage, and had to be carried home to his bed, where he lay for severalweeks. But nobody pitied him. The people who heard of it, knowing histemper, thought the dog had done a praiseworthy act. 

After this, Frederick's father sent him to a boarding school, abouttwenty miles from home, to a very strict master. Here he was incontinual broils with his school-fellows. There was scarcely a boy inthe school with whom he did not have a fight. But generally he came offwith a bleeding nose or a black eye, because his passions took away hisstrength, and the other boys were an overmatch for him. His schoolmatesgenerally did not like to fight; but this angry boy would fly at themfor the most trifling thing, and force them to defend themselves. 

Frederick's father died before he was twenty years of age; and as heloved amusement better than business, he sold the manufactory, andtravelled in Europe; where he was very dissipated, and fought two duels, in both of which he was wounded. During his absence, his mother hadbecome a good woman; and on his return, he found her companydisagreeable. She entreated him to break off his evil courses. But thisonly made him angry. To get rid of her reproofs, he left her and went toone of the Western States. There, while he was engaged at a publichouse, with some of his wicked companions, talking politics, one ofthem called him a liar, and he drew out his dirk and stabbed him to theheart. He ran away from the place, but the image of the murdered manhaunted him day and night, and made him wretched. He gave himself up tointoxication, and at the age of twenty-three years, fell into adrunkard's grave, some time after his mother had died of a broken hearton his account. All this came upon Frederick, in consequence of notrestraining his passions while a boy. His violent, ungovernable tempermight have been subdued, when he was a child; but by indulgence itincreased in strength, till it became perfectly unmanageable. 

_Be kind to your sister. _

The following affecting story, which is given in the language of thebrother himself, will admonish every boy who reads it, to be kind to hissisters, and especially to avoid blows on the head, as it is probablethe blow given this little girl by her brother was the cause of herdeath. What a shame for a brother to strike his sister!

"One morning in my early life, I remember to have been playing with myyounger sister, not then three years old. It was one of those brightmornings in spring, that bring joy and life to the heart, and diffusegladness and animation through all the tribes of living creatures. Ourfeelings were in perfect harmony with the universal gladness of nature. Even now I seem to hear the merry laugh of my little sister, as shefollowed me through the winding alleys of the garden, her cheek suffusedwith the glow of health and animation, and her waving hair floating inthe wind. 

"She was an only sister, the sole companion of all my childish sports. We were constantly together; and my young heart went out to hers, withall the affection, all the fondness, of which childhood is capable. Nothing afforded me enjoyment in which she did not participate; noamusement was sought which we could not share together. 

"That morning we had prolonged our play till near the hour of breakfast, with undiminished ardor, when at some slight provocation, my impetuousnature broke forth, and in my anger, I _struck_ my little sister a blowwith my hand. She turned to me with an appealing look, and the largetears came into her eyes. Her heart was too full to allow her to speak, and shame made me silent. At that moment the breakfast bell summoned usaway, and we returned to the house without exchanging a word. Theexcitement of play was over, and as she sat beside my mother atbreakfast, I perceived by occasional stolen glances at her that she waspale and sad. A tear seemed ready to start in her eye, which her littleself-possession could scarcely repress. It was only when my motherinquired if she was ill, that she endeavored to eat. I was ashamed andgrieved, and inwardly resolved to embrace the first opportunity when wewere alone, to throw my arms round her neck and entreat her forgiveness. 

"When breakfast was ended, my mother retired with her into her own room, directing me in the meantime to sit down to my lesson. I seated myselfby the window, and ran over my lesson, but did not learn it. My thoughtswere perpetually recurring to the scene in the garden and at table. Itwas long before my mother returned, and when she did, it was with anagitated look, and hurried step, to tell me that my poor Ellen was veryill. I asked eagerly if I might go to her, but was not permitted, lest Ishould disturb her. A physician was called and every means used for herrecovery, but to no purpose. The disease, which was in her head, constantly increased in violence, and she became delirious. It was notuntil evening that I was permitted to see her. She was a littlerecovered from the severity of her pain, and lay with her eyes closed, and her little hand resting on the pillow beneath her head. How I longedto tell her the sorrow I felt for my unkindness to her in the morningand how much I had suffered for it during the day. But I was forbiddento speak to her, and was soon taken out of the room. During that nightand the day following, she continued to grow worse. I saw her severaltimes, but she was always insensible of my presence. Once indeed, sheshowed some signs of consciousness, and asked for me; but immediatelyrelapsed into her former state. 

"On the morning of the third day, I rose at an early hour, and repairedto the sick room. My mother was sitting by the bed. As I entered, shedrew me to her, and for some time was silent, while the tears flowedfast down her face. I first learned that my sweet sister was dead, as mymother drew aside the curtain that concealed her from me. I felt asthough my heart would break. The remembrance of her affection for me, and my last unkind deed, revived in my mind; and burying my face in thefolds of the curtain, I wept long and bitterly. 

"I saw her laid in the coffin, and lowered into the grave. I almostwished to lie down there with her, if so I might see once more her smileand hear my forgiveness in her sweet voice. 

"Years have passed away and I am now a man--but never does therecollection of this incident of my early life fail to awaken bitterfeelings of grief and remorse. And never do I see my young friendsexchanging looks or words of anger, without thinking of my last pastimewith my own loved Ellen. "

_Teazing and being teazed. _

Some children take great delight in teazing. The way to avoid suchannoyances is, to take no notice of them. Respect yourself too much tobe disturbed by those who disregard the common courtesies of life. Ifthey find they cannot teaze you, they will cease to make the attempt. The late Dr. Bowditch (a man who attained to great eminence, as a man oflearning and science), was the son of a poor sailor. His parents were sopoor that he was obliged to wear his summer clothes to school, duringthe whole winter. His schoolmates would sometimes laugh at him, becausehe wore such thin clothes. But they could never make him angry, ordisturb his equanimity. All the notice he took of their jeers was, tolaugh at them for thinking that he was unable to bear the cold. If youfollow his example, you will never suffer much from being teazed. 

CHAPTER IV. 

BAD COMPANY AND BAD HABITS. 

Do you remember what Solomon says about bad company? "Enter not into thepath of the wicked, and go not in the way of evil men. For they sleepnot except they have done mischief; and their sleep is taken away, unless they cause some to fall. "

Mr. Green, the Reformed Gambler, relates that, at the age of sixteen, hewas laboring industriously, in the city of Cincinnati, and saving hiswages. But he became acquainted with a bad set of boys, who visited aten-pin alley. In his leisure hours, instead of spending his time inreading and treasuring up useful knowledge, he would frequent this denof iniquity; and Sabbath days, instead of going to meeting, he would gowith the same set of boys to a place of amusement and sin, a little wayout of the city. In a short time, this evil company had erased everytender affection from his bosom. On one of these misspent Sabbaths, hefell in with a rough set of lawless boys, and got into a fight withthem, and was seen thus engaged by the city marshal. 

The next morning, a stranger, whom he met at his boarding house, inquired of him respecting the different places of amusement in thecity, and he took him to the ten-pin alley, where he was in the habit ofgoing. While they were there, engaged in bowling, a man came staggeringin, to all appearance, half drunk. He pulled out three thimbles, andtried to find some one to play with him for drink. This is a swindler'sgame, through which he picks the pockets of fools, by persuading them tobet that they can tell under which of three thimbles he places a ball. It is all a cheat. The landlord played and won, and the man appearedvery angry; but this was only a bait, to blind the eyes of the youngmen, and induce them to bet. They were caught; and they lost what moneythey had, Mr. Green two dollars, and the stranger, twenty-five. Theytried in vain to get back their money. At length, the man who was withGreen went to the Mayor's office, and related the story; and the citymarshal, having seen Green the day before engaged in a fight, suspectedthat he was leagued with the gamblers, and had him arrested; and thoughno proof was brought against him, he was fined and sent to jail. Therehe was kept for several months, in company with counterfeiters, murderers, highwaymen, and gamblers, whose principal amusement wascard-playing; when he was discharged penniless, in rags, and with a badcharacter. This was the commencement of his career of vice, hisreformation from which is the next thing to a miracle. All this cameupon him in consequence of keeping bad company. Learn from it to avoidevil company and _betting_. The boy that suffers himself to _bet_ thesmallest amount, has already entered the downhill road of the gambler'scareer. And there is no evil that can be named but he may be drawn into, who begins to keep bad company. You might as well expect to go into_lazarhouse_, without being infected, as to go into bad company, and notfall into evil habits. 

_Profaneness. _

Perhaps there is no bad company to which boys are more exposed than the_profane_; and none which is more corrupting. Young people insensiblyfall into the habits of those with whom they associate. If they hearthem interlard their conversation with by-words and oaths, they will bestrongly tempted to do the same. They will begin, perhaps, with by-wordsand little oaths, which show a disposition to be profane, withoutcourage to carry it out. But they will not long stop here. They willsoon overcome the chidings of conscience, and then they can be asfoul-mouthed as any of their companions. This vice hardens the heart, and prepares it for every other; for he who despises God will despiseman. He who takes the name of God in vain, will not hesitate to breakall his commandments. Profaneness is one of the meanest of all vices. Itinvolves every thing that is little and mean. It is treating with theutmost indignity our Greatest Benefactor. It is a kind of gratuitouswickedness; for there is no motive for it but a disposition to do evil. The profane boy is a dangerous companion. He will lead you into you knownot what mischief and difficulty. The only way is to avoid him, as youwould a black snake, or a person that has the small pox. If you go withhim, he will, most likely, lead you to ruin. 

_Washington's opinion of profaneness_. 

No _gentleman_ will use profane language. It is an outrage upon goodmanners. No one can be called a gentleman, who is guilty of it. It is avice that has always been held in detestation by the great and the good. General Washington would never allow it in his army. In 1757, while acolonel, at Fort Cumberland, when he was a young man, he issued anorder, expressing his "great displeasure, " at the prevalence of profanecursing and swearing, and threatening those who were guilty of it withsevere punishment. The day after he took the command of theRevolutionary army he issued a similar order. In August, 1776, he issuedanother order against this vice, in which he speaks of it as "a vice so_mean and low_, without any temptation, that every man of sense andcharacter detests and despises it. " He also strictly forbade gaming anddrunkenness. 

_Howard's opinion of Swearers_. 

Howard, the Philanthropist, standing in the street, heard some dreadfuloaths and curses from a public house opposite. Having occasion to goacross, he first buttoned up his pocket, saying to a by-stander, "Ialways do this, when I hear men swear, as I think that any one who cantake God's name in vain, can also steal, or do any thing else that isbad. "

God has set a mark upon this vice. He not unfrequently punishes it, bydirectly answering the prayer that is profanely uttered. J. H. Was anotorious swearer. He had a singular habit of calling on God to cursehis eyes. After some years, this awful imprecation was verified. He wasafflicted with a disease in his eyes, which terminated in totalblindness. This so affected his general system, that he gradually sunkunder it, and went to give up his account. A number of similar cases, some of them still more awful, you will find in the tract entitled, "TheSwearer's Prayer. "

_Playing Truant_. 

Playing truant when sent to school, is almost always the means ofgetting into bad company; and bad company leads to ruin. A boy thirteenyears old, was brought before the police court in Boston, charged withstealing a gold pen from a lawyer's office. He had been in the habit ofcoming into the offices, in the building, and selling apples. Thegentleman from whom he stole the pen had furnished him money to fill hisbasket; and he returned his kindness by stealing his pen, which wasworth three dollars. His mother appeared before the court, and pleadearnestly for her boy, saving that he was a good boy to her, exceptthat he _played truant from school_. He then got into the company of agang of boys, who peddle apples, --a thievish set, --and of them he alsolearned to steal. He was sent to the House of Reformation; which is aprison for boys, where they are kept at work and study, but not allowedtheir liberty. 

_Ruin of a Deacon's son. _

Several years ago, a young man about twenty years of age, filthy in hisappearance, and shabbily dressed, called at the house of a clergyman inthe city of New York. His countenance, though haggard, bore the marks ofintelligence. The young man said he had been at his church the previousevening, and was desirous of having some conversation with the minister. He was requested to open his mind freely. He said he was the son of adeacon of a Congregational church in Connecticut. His father was a manof property and influence, and he himself had always moved in the mostrespectable society. He had come to New York in order to becomeacquainted with business, and prepare himself for an active and usefullife. But he soon found himself surrounded with new temptations, without the restraining influences of home and friends. He fell intobad company. His vicious associates led him to the theatre, and when hispassions were excited by what he saw, and stimulated by intoxicatingliquors, he was persuaded to visit places of infamy and crime. Theseindulgences called for more money than he could honestly obtain; but hisappetites, once excited, could not be easily restrained; and he hadrecourse to his employer's money drawer to supply the deficiency. Heeased his conscience, in this act, and deceived himself, with the hopeof repaying it before he was detected. But in this he was mistaken. Hewas detected, tried, found guilty, and sentenced to the penitentiary forsix months. He had now been out of prison a week, during which time hehad been wandering about the city, ashamed to be seen or known. He hadcome to ask advice. The clergyman advised him by all means to go home tohis father; assuring him that it was his only hope, for if he remainedin the city, he would fall into the company of his old associates and beruined. With the deepest agony, he exclaimed, "How can I ever return tomy father's house? How can I ever meet him or the virtuous companions ofmy youth? No! No! I am fallen--disgraced! I have been a felon, and inprison! No, I would rather die a vagabond in the street, than to seethe face of my father, or the faces of the young people, who were myassociates in the days when I felt myself as good as they. " He was yetunhumbled. He was yet unwilling, like the prodigal, to return to hisfather's house. However, after much persuasion, he promised that thenext morning he would set off for home. But he had not the moral courageto fulfil his purpose. He was ashamed to arise and go to his father. Hecontinued to roam about the streets, and was again detected in stealing. 

This anecdote shows not only the danger of bad company, but the peril ofyoung men who go from the country to the city to engage in business. They had better remain at home, unless their principles are firmlyestablished upon the foundation of true religion. There is nothing to begained in the city that is worth the exposure of morals and character. 

_Bad Books. _

Books are company; and the company of bad books is as dangerous as thecompany of bad boys or bad men. Goldsmith, who was a novel-writer ofsome note, writing to his brother about the education of a nephew, says, "_Above all things never let your nephew touch a novel or a romance_. "An opinion given in such a manner must have been an honest opinion. And, as he knew the character of novels, and had no nice scruples on thesubject of religion, his opinion ought to have great weight. 

_An Example for boys. _

A boy in London, in destitute circumstances, was put out as anapprentice to a mechanic. It is the business of the youngest apprenticeto do all the errands and drudgery of the establishment, and frequentlyof his master's family also. He was often sent by the workmen and olderapprentices, to procure intoxicating liquors for them; of which all ofthem partook, except himself, because, as they said, it did them good. But because he refused to drink he was made an object of ridicule amongthem. They said he had not sufficient _manhood_ to drink rum. But he hadsufficient manhood to _refuse to drink rum_; and it requires much moreto refuse than to drink. 

Nothing can be more false than the idea that it is courageous and manlyto fall in with the habits and practices of those with whom we areobliged to associate. It is a sign of _cowardice_ rather than of_courage_. The _sheep_ is the most timid of animals. But if a man isdriving a flock of sheep, and one of them gets frightened and turns outof the way, all the rest will follow, no matter if it is over therailing of a bridge into a river. The boy that drinks or swears or playstruant, or breaks the Sabbath, because his companions do, is ascourageous as--_a sheep!_

While the workmen and apprentices were revelling over their rum, andinsulting and misusing this boy, he often retired and vented his griefin tears. But a few years changed the aspect of things. As they grew up, and entered upon the world for themselves, all the older apprenticesfell into habits of dissipation, and finally sunk into the drunkard'sgrave. But the little boy, at whose abstinence they used to scoff, grewup a sober and respectable man, engaged in business for himself, and afew years ago, was worth a hundred thousand dollars, and had in hisemploy one hundred and ninety men, none of whom used ardent spirits. Allthis came from his having courage to say NO, to those who held thepoisoned cup to his lips. 

_Poison. _

A little boy, four years old, wandered from his home, one day, in thetown of Turin, N. Y. , to a field where some men were at work. There hefound a bottle of spirits, of which he drank freely. When found, he waslying on the ground, unable to speak. He was carried home to his mother, and the Doctor was sent for; but he could do nothing for the poor boy. He remained stupid till evening, and then died. The rum had poisonedhim. Not a great while before this, his father was drowned in a fit ofintoxication. "Touch not, taste not, handle not. "

_"Am I to blame, Mother?"_

A lad in Philadelphia, some years ago, joined the Temperance Society. The father and mother, who were what are called _moderate_ drinkers, were displeased with him. The boy said nothing for sometime, but borepatiently the chidings of his mother. At length, he undertook tovindicate his conduct: "Am I to blame, mother? Sister Mary has married adrunken husband, who abuses her every day. Sister Susan's husband wasintemperate, and has gone off, and left her, and you are obliged to takeher home, and take care of her children. Brother James comes home drunkalmost every night. And because I have joined the cold water company, and you are likely to have one sober person in the family, you arescolding at me! Am I to blame?"

_How it happened. _

There was a young man in college, one of the brightest, who was greatlybeloved for his personal attractions, frankness, good nature, andgenerosity. But he was occasionally found flushed with wine, and then hewas turbulent and ungovernable. At length, in one of these fits ofexcitement, he committed a misdemeanor for which he was expelled fromcollege. Soon after this, he became very dissipated, abandoned hisstudies, and finally became a sot. People wondered how such a lovelyyoung man could fall into such ruinous courses. A young lady, conversingabout him, said she remembered that, when he was a little boy, justbeginning to study Latin, she saw his mother bring him a loaf of cakeand a glass of wine for a lunch. She then thought that perhaps he wouldbecome a drunkard, and so it turned out. Beware of the first glass. 

GOING TO THE THEATRE. 

William R. Was a young man of good habits--a lovely youth, "the only sonof his mother, and she was a widow. " He was sent from the country, wherehe had been brought up, to the city of New York, where he was employedas a clerk. Hearing much of the _Theatre_, and seeing it puffed in thenewspapers, he thought he would _go once_, just out of curiosity, to seewhat was done there. But, he was so fascinated with what he heard andsaw there, that he went again; just as some birds are so charmed withthe gaze of the serpent, as to run straight into his mouth! ThereWilliam fell into evil company, who enticed him away to the haunts ofinfamy. Intoxicated with these things, he continued to frequent thetheatre until the expense was more than his earnings. He then began tosteal money from his employer. He was detected and fled. After sometime, his friends, hoping he had learned something from experience, senthim to another city. For a time he seemed to be thoroughly reformed. Butevil habits once acquired are not easily overcome. He soon fell into thesame round of folly and sin, till he lost his character and hisemployment, and in his despair, committed suicide!

Here, again, my readers will see that TOTAL ABSTINENCE is the only saferule. This boy's ruin was the consequence of going to the theatre _justonce_. If he had resisted an idle curiosity in the beginning, he wouldhave been saved. There are some things that we ought not to desire tosee. Among these, are the things that are done at theatres and otherplaces of amusement and pleasure, which abound in cities. It isdangerous to look upon them. It is like looking down from a giddy heightupon a rapid current of water. It turns the head, the foothold isendangered, and the life put in jeopardy. 

_The Passion for Gaming. _

The following anecdote shows the strength of this passion, when once ithas gained the ascendancy:

A colored man employed as a fireman on board a steamboat, betweenCincinnati and New Orleans, lost all his money, at play with hiscompanions. He then staked his clothing, which he also lost. Havingnothing more, he laid down his free papers and _staked himself_. Losingthis time, also, he was actually sold by the winner to a slave dealer. 

What a power must this passion have over a man, when he will play at thehazard of his own liberty, which most men esteem dearer than life! Youngman, if you once contract this habit, you will have no power to restrainit. You will gratify the passion at the hazard of every thing. My motherused to relate an anecdote of some young men, who retired to a garret toplay at cards, where they would not be seen. There was an open cask ofpowder in the room, and they had stuck a lighted candle into the powder, which served the purpose of a candlestick. The man at whose house theywere, coming to the loft for some purpose, observed them a few momentsbefore the candle had burned down to the powder, and creeping softly soas not to alarm them, snatched away the candle. In a few moments morethey would have been blown to atoms. 

The only security against gambling is similar to that againstintemperance: TOTAL ABSTINENCE FROM GAMES OF CHANCE. If you never learnany play that can be used in gaming, you will be safe from the snare. But with the knowledge of such games, you will scarcely escape itsseductions. 

_Danger of Playing for amusement. _

There was a family, consisting of the father and mother, two sons, andone daughter, who lived in Tennessee. The father and mother used to playcards with the children for amusement. The sons went to college, and thefather's business required him to be much of the time from home. On oneoccasion, while the sons were at home, during vacation, the father wrotea letter requesting the eldest son to bring him five thousand dollars. The young man was accordingly despatched with the money. He went onboard a steamboat, where he met a company of gamblers, in the garb ofgentlemen, who professed to be only playing for amusement. To this hehad been accustomed, from his childhood, at his father's house, andthought no harm of it. He was solicited to play, and consented. Afterplaying a few moments, they agreed to bet one dollar on the game. Helost, and then doubled his bet, and went on so, till soon he had lostwhat little money he had about him. He became much excited, went to hisstate-room and drew out a large package of bills, and returned to thetable, where very soon he had lost twelve hundred dollars. He now cameto the place where he was to leave the steamboat and go to his father;but he was so intoxicated with the excitement of the gaming table, thathe went on. He played on, and continued to lose. Several of the morerespectable passengers tried to get him away. But the passion for gaminghad taken such possession of his heart, that he was held to the spot, till his package of five thousand dollars was all in the hands of threehardened gamblers. Two of them afterwards won from him his watch and hisdiamond breast pin, and left him without money enough to buy a meal ofvictuals. 

About ten days after he left, his mother received a letter from hisfather, saying that he had heard nothing from him. She immediately tookher younger son and went in pursuit of him. But, the only intelligencethey could gain concerning him was, that he had been ruined by a companyof gamblers. The father immediately started for New-Orleans, in searchof his son, but hearing nothing from him, he, in despair, took todrinking, and returned, after two years' absence, --"his frame worn--hischeek pale--his eyes wild and fevered--his lips parched--his hopescrushed--his very life only the motion of excitement and passion--hisvery soul shattered--his property mortgaged. " In a short time he wentagain in pursuit of his son, but returned home, heart-broken, and diedof _delirium tremens_, the drunkard's disease. The daughter and theother son, both became maniacs. Thus was a whole family ruined, inconsequence of the foolish habit of playing cards for amusement. If thatyoung man had never learned to play cards, he would, in all probability, have gone on his way, and reached his father in safety, with the money. And, if he had been firmly principled against playing, his answer, "I_never play_, " would have stopped all solicitation. I travelled on thoseWestern waters, when I was a young man, at a time when gambling wascarried on every hour of the day, and almost the live-long night; andyet I was never solicited to play. And why not, as well as this youngman? Because, (1. ) I did not know how to play; (2. ) I felt a greataversion to it, and did not hesitate to show it; and (3. ) I made myselfknown as a _religious man_. These three things will always be sufficientto defend a young man against the most wily gamesters in the world. 

The case I have related, is only one among hundreds that might bestated, in which the ruin of many a promising young man has beenaccomplished, by alluring him to play cards for amusement, and thengradually leading him on to stake first small sums, which he ispermitted to win, and then he is persuaded to go on, till he has not afarthing left. There is a set of men, in all parts of the country, whomake a business of gambling, and league together to draw in unwary youthand strip them of all they possess, and of more, if they can lay theirhands upon money not their own. 

Beware, then, how you excite a passion for gaming, by playing foramusement. I am afraid of _all games_; but, especially, all games ofchance. I think there is a strong tendency in them all to excite apassion for gaming, which will not be satisfied without something morestimulating than mere amusement. If I see a boy rolling marbles, or ayoung man shuffling cards, I think he is in the high road to ruin. Marbles is a dirty play. It treads on the heels of low company andgambling. We frequently hear boys crying out, with all the braggardismof a practiced gambler, "_I'll bet_" so and so. But all betting isgambling. "TOUCH NOT, TASTE NOT, HANDLE NOT. "

CHAPTER V. 

INDUSTRY, LABOR, &c. 

Early discipline, in laborious and useful occupations, is indispensableto the formation of a good character. If God had designed that we shouldlive at ease, without exertion, he would have furnished every thing toour hand, without any effort of our own. In his holy word he has taughtus the necessity of helping ourselves, requiring us to labor six daysfor one of rest, and ordaining that, "if any would not work, neithershould he eat. " The same lesson he taught an untutored Indian, by thevoice of Nature. 

_A lesson from the Birds and Fishes. _

Rev. Mr. Heckewelder, a Moravian Missionary, remarked to an Indian, whomhe saw busily employed fencing his cornfield, that he must be very fondof working, as he had never seen him idling away his time as was commonwith the Indians. "My friend, " replied the Indian "the fishes in thewater, and the birds in the air have taught me to work. When I was ayoung man, I loitered about, doing nothing, just like the other Indians, who say that working is only for whites and negroes, but that theIndians were made to hunt the deer, and catch the beaver, otter, andother animals. But one day while I was hunting, I came to the banks ofthe Susquehannah, and sat down near the water's edge to rest awhile. There I was forcibly struck at seeing with what industry the sun-fishheaped small stones together to make secure places for their spawn; andall this labor they did with their mouth and body, without hands. Presently a little bird, not far from me, raised a song, and while I waslooking to see the little songster, its mate, with as much grass as itcould hold in its bill, passed close by me, and flew into the bush, where I perceived them, both together, busily employed in building theirnest, and singing as their work went on. I entirely forgot my hunting, to contemplate the objects that were before me. I saw the birds in theair and the fishes in the water working diligently and cheerfully, andall this without hands. I thought it was strange and I became lost inwonder. I looked at myself, and saw two long arms, provided with handsand fingers, and with joints that might be opened and shut at pleasure. I could, when I pleased, take up any thing with these hands, hold itfast, or let it loose, and carry it along with me. When I walked, Iobserved that I had a strong body, capable of bearing fatigue, andsupported by two stout legs, with which I could climb to the top of thehighest mountains, and descend at pleasure into the valleys. "

"And is it possible, " said I, "that a being so wonderfully formed as Iam, was created to live in idleness; while the birds, which have nohands, and nothing but their little bills to help them, work withcheerfulness, and without being told to do so? Has then the greatCreator given me all these limbs for no purpose? It cannot be: I willtry to go to work. I did so, and went away from the village to a spot ofgood land, where I built a cabin, enclosed ground, sowed corn, andraised cattle. Ever since that time, I have enjoyed a good appetite andsound sleep. While others spend their nights in dancing, and aresuffering with hunger, I live in plenty. I keep horses, cows, hogs, andfowls. I am happy. See, my friend, the birds and fishes have brought meto reflection, and taught me to work!"

If any of my young friends, who read this book, think it a hardship towork, I hope they will go into the fields, and like this untutoredIndian, learn lessons from the creatures whom God has made. There theywill find the little ants busy in rearing their habitation; the mole inraising his hill; the birds in building their nests; and the little busybee, in sucking honey from every flower. Yet all these little creaturesappear happy and contented with their lot. If God made them to be happy, as we suppose he did, why did he not make them to live an idle, inactivelife? Evidently because activity is necessary to enjoyment. If you wouldbe happy, then, you must be active. Laziness, or idleness, willcertainly make you discontented, wretched, and miserable. 

As I was one day walking in one of those beautiful avenues that lead outof the village of Saratoga Springs, my attention was arrested by two ofthose insects, which children call by the homely name of"_grand-father-long-legs_. " They were laboriously occupied in rolling around ball, of the size of a walnut, covered with a glutinous substance, dried hard in the sun. I could not be so cruel as to break it in pieces, to gratify my curiosity; but I suppose it must have contained sometreasure that was dear to them--probably their eggs. They would laborand tug, with their long arms, to roll it up an ascent; and if it rolledback again, they would patiently return, and roll it up, showing anexample of perseverance well worthy of imitation. 

Thus God has made all things to be active. All nature, animate andinanimate, calls man to labor. If old ocean did not ebb and flow, androll its waves, it would stagnate, and become so noxious that no animalcould live on the face of the earth. If the earth did not pursue itslaborious course around its axis, one half of its inhabitants would beshrouded in perpetual night, while the other half would be scorched todeath with the ever-accumulating intensity of the sun's rays. Can youfind any thing, in all the vast creation of God, that is idle? Thesluggard, of all God's works, stands alone--_idle_! He resembles thestagnant pool, whose impure waters, filled with the loathsome creatures, and all manner of filth, saturate the atmosphere with pestilentialvapors, and spread around it disease and death. But, the active, industrious man, resembles the running brook, whose waters are keptlimpid and clear by their unceasing flow. 

"_Business first, and then Pleasure_. "

A man who is very rich now, was very poor when he was a boy. When askedhow he got his riches, he replied, "My father taught me never to playtill all my work for the day was finished, and never to spend money tillI had earned it. If I had but half an hour's work to do in a day, I mustdo that the first thing, _and in half an hour_. After this was done, Iwas allowed to play; and I could then play with much more pleasure thanif I had the thought of an unfinished task before my mind. I earlyformed the habit of doing every thing in its time, and it soon becameperfectly easy to do so. It is to this habit that I now owe myprosperity. " Let every boy who reads this, go and do likewise, and hewill meet a similar reward. 

_Industry_. 

A gentleman in England had an estate which was worth about a thousanddollars a year. For a while, he kept his farm in his own hands; but atlength, he found himself so much in debt that he was obliged to sell onehalf of his place, to pay up. The rest, he let to a farmer fortwenty-one years. Towards the end of that time, the farmer on coming topay his rent, asked him whether he would sell his farm. The gentlemanwas surprised that the farmer should be able to make him an offer forhis place. "Pray tell me, " said he, "how it happens, that, while I couldnot live upon twice as much land, for which I paid no rent, you areregularly paying me five hundred dollars a year for your farm, and ablein a few years to purchase it?" "The reason is plain, " answered thefarmer: "You sat still, and said '_Go_. ' I got up and said, '_Come_. 'You lay in bed, and enjoyed your ease. I rose in the morning, and mindedmy business. "

This anecdote shows the folly of those young men, who set up forgentlemen, and despise labor and useful employment. Though they maybegin with a good capital, they will soon run down, if they depend uponothers to do their business. If they have nothing, they will certainlygain nothing. Laziness, poverty, and rags, will go together. 

CHAPTER VI. 

TRUE GREATNESS. 

_True Greatness does not consist in feeling above others_. 

Fools think themselves _great_, in proportion to the show they can make;but it would take a great heap of copper coins to make as much value asa very little piece of gold; and an empty tin kettle will make moresound than a golden vessel filled with the choicest delicacies. 

When Mr. Jefferson was President of the United States, he was passing astream on horseback, in Virginia. A beggar approaching it at the sametime, asked him to help him over. The President let him get behind himon the horse and ride over. When they had got over, the beggardiscovered that he had left his bundle; and Mr. Jefferson went backagain and brought it over. This was true greatness. A man can never betoo great to do a kindness to the humblest individual in the world. 

_True Greatness lies not in being too proud to wait on one's self. _

Chief Justice Marshall was in the habit of going to market himself, andcarrying home his purchases. Frequently he would be seen returning atsunrise, with poultry in one hand and vegetables in the other. On one ofthese occasions, a fashionable young man from the North, who had removedto Richmond, was swearing violently because he could find no one tocarry home his turkey. Marshall stepped up, and asking him where helived, said "That is my way, and I will take it for you. " When they cameto his house, the young man inquired, "What shall I pay you?" "O, nothing, " said the Chief Justice, "you are welcome, it was on my way, and no trouble. " "Who is that polite old gentleman, who brought home myturkey for me?" inquired the young man of a by-stander. "That, " repliedhe, "is John Marshall, Chief Justice of the United States. " "Why did hebring home my turkey?" "To give you a severe reprimand, and teach you toattend to your own business, " was the reply. True greatness never feelsabove doing any thing that is useful; but especially, the truly greatman will never feel above helping himself. His own independence ofcharacter depends on his being able to help himself. Dr. Franklin, whenhe first established himself in business, in Philadelphia, wheeled homethe paper which he purchased for his printing office, upon awheel-barrow, with his own hands. 

_True Greatness does not make a man difficult about his ownaccommodations. _

At a time when the court was sitting in Buffalo, N. Y. , and all thepublic houses were full, there came to the principal hotel a starched uplittle Frenchman, and called for lodgings. He was shown into a small, but well-furnished room, which was the only one in the house that wasvacant. He thought himself insulted; and with much warmth said, "Megem'man--me no sleep here!" A little while afterwards Chancellor Kent, the highest judicial officer in the state, called for lodgings. Thelandlord told him he was full, excepting one little room, which he didnot like to offer to such a man as he. But the Chancellor wished to seeit; and on being shown into it, said, "O, this will do very well--it isa fine room. " Which do you think was the greater of these two men? Asmall mind makes much ado about little things. 

_True Greatness does not consist in being in the fashion. _

When Dr. Franklin was received at the French Court as American Minister, he felt some scruples of conscience about complying with their fashionsof dress. "He hoped, " he said to the Minister, "that as he was a veryplain man, and represented a plain republican people, the king wouldindulge his desire to appear in the court in his usual dress. Independent of this, the season of the year, " said he, "renders thechange from yarn stockings to fine silk somewhat dangerous. " The FrenchMinister made him a bow, but said that fashion was too sacred a thingfor him to meddle with, but he would do him the honor to mention it tohis majesty. The king smiled and returned word that Dr. Franklin was atliberty to appear at court in any dress that he pleased. In spite ofthat delicate respect for foreigners for which the French are soremarkable, the courtiers could not help staring at first at Dr. Franklin's Quaker dress. But it soon appeared as though he had beenintroduced upon this splendid theatre only to demonstrate that greatgenius, like beauty, "needs not the aid of ornament. "

CHAPTER VII. 

ADVANTAGES OF HONESTY. 

_Colbert. _

Go the world over, and you will find that "honesty is the best policy. "Jean Baptiste Colbert was born at Rheims, in France, in the year 1617, of poor parents. When a boy, he was apprenticed to M. Certain, a woollendraper. Young Colbert was very fond of books, and spent his leisure inreading. He had indeed a taste above his station. But his mind was somuch on what he read, that he was sometimes absent-minded andforgetful. M. Certain, who thought of nothing but of selling cloth, would ridicule him, and tell him he would never make any thing. One dayhe sent him and the porter with four rolls of cloth, to the hotel of M. Cenani, a French banker, who wished to buy hangings for a country housewhich he had purchased. The pieces were marked 1, 2, 3, and 4; and asColbert left the house, M. Certain told him that No. 1 was marked threecrowns a yard; No. 2, six crowns; No. 3, eight crowns; and No. 4, fifteen crowns. The banker selected No. 3, and asked the young man howmuch it was a yard. Colbert replied, "fifteen crowns. " The portergrinned, but seeing the mistake was on the side of his master he saidnothing. There were thirty yards in the piece, and the money was countedout, four hundred and fifty crowns. 

When Colbert returned, M. Certain said, "you have made no mistake, Ihope. " "I don't think I have, " replied Colbert. "But I think you have, "said the porter. "Do you think so, Moline? Do you think so?" cried theold man, throwing down the cloth and examining the tickets. "But, indeed, I might have expected this; the little rascal could not dootherwise. But I warn you, if you have made a mistake, you shall go toM. Cenani to ask of him the surplus money; and if he refuses to give it, you shall pay it out of your wages. No. 3 is wanting. No. 3 wasworth--it was worth six crowns; no, eight crowns. I am quite puzzled. ""Eight crowns! Eight crowns! are you sure of that?" cried Colbert. "Perhaps you would like to make out that it was I who made the mistake. I tell you No. 3, was worth eight crowns. I am half dead with fear. Iwill lay a wager that he sold it for six. " "On the contrary, " repliedColbert, "stupid creature that I am, I sold it for fifteen. " "Fifteen!Fifteen!" cried M. Certain. "You are a fine boy, a good boy, Baptiste. You will one day be an honor to all your family. Fifteen!--I could crywith joy! Fifteen crowns for a piece of cloth not worth six! Two hundredand ten crowns profit! O happy day!" "How, " said Colbert, "would youtake advantage?" "O, perhaps you want to go shares. Certainly I agree tolet you have something. "

"I cannot agree to any such thing, " said Colbert. "I will go to thegentleman I have treated so badly, and beg of him to excuse me, andreturn him the money he overpaid me. " So saying, he bounded out of thedoor, leaving his master in a rage of disappointment. In a few moments, he was at the hotel of M. Cenani. It was with great difficulty that hewas admitted to his presence, and then he was ordered away. But hepersisted in speaking; and after apologizing for his mistake, hereturned the money. The banker asked him if he knew that he was no judgeof cloth. Colbert assured him that it was not worth more than eightcrowns. "And you might easily have kept this money for yourself. " "Inever thought of that, sir, " replied the young man. "But, if you hadthought of it?" inquired the banker. "It was quite impossible, sir, thatsuch an idea could come into my head. I should as soon have thought ofcarrying off all that you have here. " "Suppose I should make you apresent of this money that you have returned to me with such admirableintegrity?" "What right have I to it? And why should you give it to me?I would not take it, sir. " "You are a fine fellow and an honest fellow, "said the banker, and inquired his name. The conversation was suddenlybroke off by the arrival of the banker's carriage. As young Colbert wentout, he was seized by the collar, by his enraged master, who abused himin the most frantic manner, and dismissed him from his service. 

The young man went home; but his parents were affrighted to see him atthat time, fearing some disaster had happened to him. After hearing hisstory, however, they heartily approved his conduct, and rejoiced thatthey had such a son. 

It was but a little while, however, before M. Cenani arrived, and, praising the nobleness and integrity of the boy, proposed to his parentsto take him to Paris and put him in his banking house, where he mightmake a fortune; which was readily agreed to. Young Colbert soon foundhimself in a new world. But, denying himself the brilliant attractionswith which the city abounded, he gave himself diligently to hisbusiness, as clerk in the banking house. His diligence and faithfulnessgained for him the esteem of his employers. He soon mastered thebusiness. No accounts baffled him. And, on arriving at manhood, hebecame a thorough financier. The most important duties were nowentrusted to him; and he soon became the travelling agent of the bank;which enabled him also to gratify his taste for the arts and sciences. He made the tour of the French provinces, making commerce his study, anddevising means to render it flourishing. In 1648, he was introduced atCourt, where his rare merit and conscientiousness in all affairs gainedhim great esteem. He was created Marquis of Croissy, and afterwardsbecame Prime Minister. In this capacity, he was eminently useful toFrance. He improved the roads; encouraged trade; founded a chamber ofcommerce; colonized India and Canada; established naval schools; builtships; introduced manufactures; encouraged the fine arts. One cannot goeven a small distance in Paris, even at this day, without finding atrace of the great Colbert. The Observatory, the beautiful gardens ofthe Tuilleries and Rue St. Dennis, the Hotel of Invalids, and many otherthings of like nature which adorn and do honor to the city, owe theirexistence to him. He also raised up his father's family from greatpoverty to wealth and honor. 

Colbert's first step to distinction was an act of honor and honestywhich deprived him of the means of earning his daily bread. If there wasever a case, which, to human appearance, would seem to contradict theold proverb, and show that honesty was not the best policy, one wouldthink his was such a case. But the event proved its truth. And to thissingle trait in his character may be traced all his greatness. Hishonesty and integrity made him faithful to his employers. This raisedhim in their esteem, and contributed to strengthen and confirm thistrait of character. This he carried into public life; and his honestythere led him to regard the public benefit as paramount to privateinterest. The whole of this story may be found in Chambers' Miscellany, published by Gould, Kendall and Lincoln. 

Would you be _great_? Honesty and integrity of character lie at thefoundation of all true greatness. You must cultivate sincerity, honesty, and fair dealing in early youth, if you would lay the foundation offuture greatness. 

_Two opposite examples_. 

Two boys were passing an orchard on their way from school, in whichthere were some plum trees, full of nice fruit. "Come, Thomas, " saidHenry, "let us jump over and get some plums. Nobody will see us. We canscud along through the tall corn, and come out on the other side. "Thomas replied, "It is wrong. I don't like to try it. I would rather nothave the plums than steal them, and I will run along home. " "You are acoward, " said Henry. "I always knew you was a coward; and if you don'twant any plums, you may go without them. But I shall have some veryquick. " Just as Henry was climbing the wall, the owner of the field roseup from the other side. Henry jumped back and ran off as fast as hislegs could carry him. Thomas had no reason to be afraid, and he walkedalong as if nothing had happened. The owner, who had heard theconversation between the two boys, then asked Thomas to step over andhelp himself to as many plums as he wanted. 

This story teaches two lessons: (1. ) It shows the advantages of_honesty_. An honest person is not afraid to look others in the face;and honesty, in the end, always turns out more to one's advantage thandishonesty. (2. ) It teaches wherein true courage consists: It is, inbeing _afraid to do wrong_. Henry called Thomas a coward, because he wasafraid to do wrong; but he himself sneaked away like a whipped spaniel, the moment he saw any danger. Henry was the coward. He had neither thecourage to resist temptation nor to face danger. 

_Fruits of dishonesty_. 

A young man from the State of Maine, of good abilities, went toWashington city, where he was admitted as a member of the bar, topractice law, with fine prospects. He was respected in society, and wasa leader in the choir, in one of the churches in the city. But, in anevil hour, he discovered that there was a considerable amount of moneyin the Treasury, which had been allowed to claimants, but which hadnever been called for, and was not likely to be. The young man, thinkinghe should not be likely to be detected, forged drafts, and obtainedmoney to the amount of several thousand dollars. But, it was not longbefore his sin found him out. He was detected, found guilty, and sent tothe state's prison. 

CHAPTER VIII. 

PURSUIT OF KNOWLEDGE. 

SECTION I. --READING. 

He that reads to be amused, will be like him that eats to gratify hisappetite--an _epicure_. But he who reads to obtain useful information, and to improve his mind, will be like him who eats to sustainnature--_strong and healthy_. The former will be satisfied with nothingbut dainties--the latter will prefer plain strong food. 

Sir William Jones rose to great eminence. When he was a mere child, hewas very inquisitive. His mother was a superior woman of greatintelligence, and he would apply to her for the information which hedesired; but her constant reply was, "READ AND YOU WILL KNOW. " This gavehim a passion for books, which was one of the principal means of makinghim what he was. But, it is not every one who _reads_ that will becomewise. 

_Robert Hall_. 

This great man, when he was a boy about six years of age, was sent to aboarding school, where he spent the week, coming home Saturday andreturning Monday. When he went away on Monday morning, he would takewith him two or three books from his father's library to read at theintervals between the school hours. The books he selected, were notthose of mere amusement, but such as required deep and serious thought. Before he was nine years old, he had read over and over again, with thedeepest interest, _Edwards on the Affections_, _Edwards on the Will_, _and Butler's Analogy_. 

[Illustration]

SECTION II. --LOVE OF LEARNING ENCOURAGED. 

There are many young persons, who have an ardent thirst for knowledge, and a strong desire to obtain an education; but their circumstances inlife seem to forbid the attempt. There are many examples, which affordthem encouragement to make the attempt. A large proportion of the menwho have risen to the highest distinction, have struggled against thesame difficulties which they have to encounter; and, when they see whathas been done by others, they will perceive that it can be done bythemselves. 

_Sir Isaac Newton_. 

When Sir Isaac Newton was a boy he was employed in servile labor. Sometimes he was sent to open the gates for the men that were drivingthe cattle to market. At other times, he carried corn to market, orattended the sheep. One day his uncle found him in a hay-loft, workingout a mathematical problem, and he was sent to school. There hediscovered his great and various talents. At the age of eighteen he wassent to the University at Cambridge, England, where he soondistinguished himself. 

_Benjamin West_. 

West, the celebrated painter, early manifested a genius for this art. His first attempt was made with pens, and red and black ink, upon aportrait of his sister's child, lying in the cradle. For a long time hehad no pencil. Having been told that they were made of camel's hair, hepulled hairs out of the tail of a cat, of which he made his first brush. 

_Other eminent Persons_. 

Dr. Franklin was the son of a tallow-chandler, and served anapprenticeship to a printer; Rev. Dr. Scott, author of the Commentary, was employed in the most laborious work on a farm; William Gifford, oneof the most celebrated literary men of his age, was an apprentice to ashoemaker, and wrought out his problems in algebra on a piece ofsole-leather, with the point of an awl. 

SECTION III. --DISLIKE OF STUDY. 

LATIN AND LABOR. 

John Adams, the second President of the United States, used to relatethe following anecdote:

"When I was a boy, I had to study the Latin grammar; but it was dull, and I hated it. My father was anxious to send me to college, andtherefore I studied the grammar, till I could bear it no longer; andgoing to my father, I told him I did not like study, and asked for someother employment. It was opposing his wishes, and he was quick in hisanswer. 'Well, John, if Latin grammar does not suit you, you may tryditching; perhaps that will; my meadow yonder needs a ditch, and you mayput by Latin and try that. '

"This seemed a delightful change, and to the meadow I went. But I soonfound ditching harder than Latin, and the first forenoon was the longestI ever experienced. That day I ate the bread of Labor, and glad was Iwhen night came on. That night I made some comparison between Latingrammar and ditching, but said not a word about it. I dug next forenoon, and wanted to return to Latin at dinner; but it was humiliating, and Icould not do it. At night, toil conquered pride; and though it was oneof the severest trials I ever had in my life, I told my father that, ifhe chose, I would go back to Latin grammar. He was glad of it; and if Ihave since gained any distinction it has been owing to the two dayslabor in that abominable ditch. "

Boys may learn several important lessons from this story. It shows howlittle they oftentimes appreciate their privileges. Those who are keptat study frequently think it a hardship needlessly imposed on them. Butthey must do something; and if set to ditching, would they like that anybetter? The opportunity of pursuing a liberal course of study is whatfew enjoy; and they are ungrateful who drag themselves to it as to anintolerable task. You may also learn from this anecdote, how much betteryour parents are qualified to judge of these things than yourselves. IfJohn Adams had continued his ditching instead of his Latin, his namewould not probably have been known to us. But, in following the pathmarked out by his judicious parent, he rose to the highest honors whichthe country affords. 

CHAPTER IX. 

MISCELLANEOUS SUBJECTS. 

SECTION I. --FICKLENESS. 

_Hunting Squirrels_. 

John Alsop was about fifteen years old, when his father, who had justmoved into a new settlement, was clearing land. One day the father and aneighbor were engaged in building a _log fence_; which was made of thetrunks of the trees that were cleared off the lands. First, they laidthe fence one log high, with the ends of each length passing a littleway by each other. Notches were cut in the ends, and a block was laidcrosswise, where the ends lapped, and then another tier was laid on thecross pieces, till the fence was high enough. To roll up the top logs, they would lay long poles, called _skids_, one end on the top of thelogs, and the other on the ground, and roll up the logs on these. But, as the logs were very heavy, they were obliged to stop several times torest, or to get a new hold; and it was John's business, when theystopped, to put a block the under side of the log, above the skids, tokeep it from rolling back. Having given a hard lift, and tugging withall his might, the father called out, "There, Johnny, put under yourblock quick. " John started nimbly, and snatched up his block, whensuddenly the loud chirp of a squirrel struck his ear. Instantly, downwent his block, and away he ran after the squirrel, leaving his fatherand the other man to hold the log till he came back. 

This anecdote gives you John's character. He was too fickle to followany one object or pursuit long enough to accomplish any thing. Thirtyyears after this, a gentleman who had known him in his youthful days, inquired about him of one of his neighbors, who related this anecdote, and added, "_he has been running after squirrels ever since_. " He neverwas steady and persevering in pursuit of any thing. When he was a youngman, he could never make up his mind decidedly what employment tofollow. He would try one, and get tired of it, and take another; butfollowed no business long enough to get well acquainted with it. When hehad a family, and found it necessary to make exertion, he was busyearly and late, but to little purpose. He moved from one place toanother; and "a rolling stone gathers no moss. " He very often changedhis employment, and by that means lost all the advantage of pastexperience. Now, he was a farmer, then a trader, then a post-rider, thena deputy sheriff, then a mechanic, without having learned his trade. Bythe time he had got fairly started in a new business, he would hear orthink of something else, and before any body thought of it, he wouldchange his business. In this way he wasted his money, and kept hisfamily poor, and neglected his children's education. He was always_hunting the squirrel_. 

Now, boys, don't hunt the squirrel. Whatever you begin, stick to it tillit is finished--done, and well done. If you always follow this rulefaithfully, you cannot fail of being somebody and doing something. But, if you go through life hunting the squirrel, when you die, nobody cantell what you have done, and the world will be neither wiser nor betterfor your having lived in it. 

SECTION II. --INDEPENDENCE OF CHARACTER. 

There is a certain kind of Independence of Character, which isindispensable to success in any undertaking. I do not mean a proud, self-confident spirit, which despises advice, and makes one self-willedand headstrong. This is _obstinacy_. But true independence is that sortof self-confidence and resolution which leads one to go forward in whathe has to do, with decision and energy, without leaning upon others. Without this, a man will gain to himself that unenviable distinctiondescribed by the homely but expressive term _shiftless_. The followingdescription, from Mrs. S. C. Hall's "_Sketches of Irish Character_, "*furnishes an admirable illustration of the results of a want ofindependence of character:--

* See Frontispiece. 

"Shane Thurlough, 'as dacent a boy, ' and Shane's wife, as 'clane-skinneda girl, ' as any in the world. There is Shane, an active, handsomelooking fellow, leaning over the half-door of his cottage, kicking ahole in the wall with his brogue, and picking up all the large gravelwithin his reach, to pelt the ducks with. Let us speak to him. 'Goodmorning Shane. ' 'Och! the bright bames of heaven on ye every day! andkindly welcome, my lady; and won't ye step in and rest--its powerfulhot, and a beautiful summer, sure, --the Lord be praised!' 'Thank you, Shane. I thought you were going to cut the hay-field to-day; if a heavyshower comes, it will be spoiled; it has been fit for the scythe thesetwo days. ' 'Sure, it's all owing to that thief o' the world, Tom Parrel, my lady. Didn't he promise me the loan of his scythe; and by the sametoken I was to pay him for it; and _depinding_ on that, I didn't buyone, which I have been threatening to do for the last two years. ' 'Butwhy don't you go to Carrick and purchase one?' 'To Carrick. Och, 'tis agood step to Carrick, and my toes are on the ground, (saving yourpresence, ) for I _depinded_ on Tim Jarvis to tell Andy Cappler, thebrogue-maker, to do my shoes; and, bad luck to him, the spalpeen, heforgot it. ' 'Where's your pretty wife, Shane?' 'She's in all the wo o'the world, ma'am, dear. And she puts the blame of it on me, though I'mnot in the fault this time, any how. The child's taken the small pox, and she _depinded_ on me to tell the doctor to cut it for the cow-pox, and I _depinded_ on Kitty Cackle, the limmer, to tell the doctor's ownman, and thought she would not forget it, becase the boy's her bachelor;but out o' sight out o' mind--the never a word she tould him about it, and the babby's got it nataral, and the woman's in heart trouble, (tosay nothing o' myself;) and its the first and all. '

"'I am very sorry, indeed, for you have got a much better wife than mostmen!' 'That's a true word, my lady, only she's fidgety-like sometimes, and says I don't hit the nail on the head quick enough; and she takes adale more trouble than she need about mony a thing. '

"'I do not think I ever saw Ellen's wheel without flax before, Shane?''Bad 'cess to the wheel!--I got it this morning about that too. I_depinded_ on John Williams to bring the flax from O'Flaharty's this dayweek, and he forgot it; and she says I ought to have brought it myself, and I close to the spot. But where's the good? says I; sure, he'll bringit next time. '

"'I suppose, Shane, you will soon move into the new cottage at ChurnHill? I passed it to-day, and it looked so cheerful; and when you getthere, you must take Ellen's advice, and _depind_ solely on yourself. ''Och! ma'am dear, don't mention it; sure it's that makes me so down inthe mouth this very minit. Sure I saw that born blackguard, Jack Waddy, and he comes in here, quite innocent-like--'Shane, you've an eye tosquire's new lodge, ' says he. 'Maybe I have, ' says I. 'I'm yer man, 'says he. 'How so, ' says I. 'Sure I'm as good as married to my lady'smaid, ' said he; 'and I'll spake to the squire for you my own self. ' 'Theblessing be about you, ' says I, quite grateful--and we took a strong cupon the strength of it--and _depinding_ on him, I thought all safe; andwhat d'ye think, my lady? Why, himself stalks into the place--talked thesquire over, to be sure--and without so much as "by your lave, " sateshimself and his new wife on the lase in the house; and I may gowhistle. ' 'It was a great pity, Shane, that you did not go yourself toMr. Churn. ' 'That's a true word for you, ma'am dear; but it's hard if apoor man can't have a frind to _depind_ on. '"

If you want any thing well done, you must see to it yourself. If youwant it half done, leave it to servants. If you want it neglected, impose it upon your friend, to save yourself the trouble. 

SECTION III. --CONTENTMENT. 

The true secret of happiness lies in a _contented mind_. If we would behappy, we must be satisfied with our lot as it is. There is no conditionin which there is not something unpleasant. If we seek for perfection, we may roam the wide world over, and never find it; but, if we learn tobear patiently what we cannot help, almost any situation in life will betolerable. Every one, however, is disposed to think his troubles theworst of all. The following story shows that no situation is exempt fromtrouble. 

_The old black sheep_. 

A gentleman in England was passing by where a large flock of sheep werefeeding; and seeing the shepherd sitting by the road-side, preparing toeat his dinner, he stopped his horse, and began to converse with him. "Well, shepherd, " he said, "you look cheerful and contented, and I daresay, have very few cares to vex you. I, who am a man of large property, cannot but look at such men as you with a kind of envy. " "Why, sir, "replied the shepherd, "'tis true, I have not trouble like yours; and Icould do well enough, was it not for that _black_ ewe that you seeyonder among my flock. I have often begged my master to kill or sellher; but he won't, though she is the plague of my life; for no sooner doI sit down at my book or take up my wallet to get my dinner, but awayshe sets off over the down, and the rest follow her; so that I have manya weary step after them. There! you see she's off, and they are allafter her!" "Ah, my friend, " said the gentleman, "I see every man has ablack ewe in his flock, to plague him, as well as I. "

_Hunting after contentment_. 

A man had a number of houses, and would move from one to another, because he could be contented but a little while in a place. A personasked him why he moved so often, and he said he was _hunting aftercontentment_. But _content_ is never found by _seeking_. 

CHAPTER X. 

RELIGION. 

SECTION I. --RELIGIOUS KNOWLEDGE. 

THE WILL. 

Knowledge is acquired not only by _reading_, but by _thinking_ of whatwe read. 

A minister in Ireland met a boy going to school, and asked him what bookit was which he had under his arm. "It is a _will_, sir, " said the boy. "What will?" inquired the minister. "The last will and testament thatJesus Christ left to me, and to all who desire to obtain a title in theproperty therein bequeathed. " "What did Christ leave you in that will?""A kingdom, sir. " "Where does that kingdom lie?" "It is the kingdom ofheaven, sir. " "And do you expect to reign as a king there?" "Yes, sir;as joint-heir with Christ. " "And will not every person get there aswell as you?" "No, sir; none can get there but those who found theirtitle to that kingdom upon the ground of the will. " This boy was notonly a _reader_ but a _thinker_. The minister told him to take care of abook of such value, and to mind the provisions of the will. 

_A Little Reasoner_. 

A little boy asked his mother how many gods there were. A youngerbrother answered, "Why, one to be sure. " "But how do you know that?"inquired the other. "Because, " answered the younger, "God fills everyplace so that there is no room for any other. "

_A Wise Answer_. 

A boy six years old was offered an orange, if he would tell where Godwas. "Tell me, " said the boy, "where he _is not_, and I will give youtwo. "

_A Bad Bargain_. 

A Sabbath School teacher was talking to his class about that passage inProverbs, which says, "Buy the truth and sell it not. " "He who buys thetruth, " said he, "makes a good bargain. Can any of you recollect anyinstance of a _bad bargain_, mentioned in Scripture?" "I do, " repliedone of his scholars:--"Esau made a bad bargain, when he sold hisbirth-right for a mess of pottage. " Another said, "Judas made a badbargain, when he sold his Lord for thirty pieces of silver. " A thirdobserved, "Our Lord tells us that he makes a bad bargain, who, to gainthe whole world, loses his own soul. " Alas! how many such bad bargainsare made every day!

_Simple Faith_. 

A missionary in Africa asked a little boy if he was a sinner. The boyreplied by asking if he knew any one who was not. The missionary thenasked him who could save him from his sins. He replied, "Christ. " "Whathas Christ done to save sinners?" "He has died on the cross. " "Do youbelieve Jesus Christ will save you?" "Yes. " "Why do you believe it?" "I_feel_ it; and not only so, but I consider that, since he has died, andsent his servants the missionaries from such a far country to publishsalvation, it would be very strange if, after all, he should reject asinner. " It would be so indeed, with respect to all that come to Him;for he has said, "Him that cometh to me, I will in no wise cast out. "

_Proof that there is a God_. 

A converted Greenlander, conversing with a missionary concerning hisformer state, said that, before he had ever heard about God or JesusChrist, he used to have such reflections as these: A boat does not growinto existence of itself, but must be made by the labor and ingenuity ofman. But the meanest bird has far more skill displayed in its structurethan the best boat, and no man can make a bird. But there is far moreart shown in the formation of man than in any other creature. Who was itthat made him? I thought perhaps he proceeded from his parents, and theyfrom their parents; but some must have been the first parents--whencedid they come? Common report informs me that they grew out of the earth;but if so, why do not men now grow out of the earth? And from whence didthis same earth, the sea, the sun, the moon, and the stars, arise intoexistence? Certainly, there must be some Being, who made all thesethings--a Being that always was, and can never cease to be. He must beinexpressibly more mighty, knowing, and wise, than the wisest man. Hemust be very good too; for every thing that is made is good, useful, and necessary for us. Ah! did I but know him, how would I love him andhonor him! But who has seen him? Who has conversed with him?

This poor heathen, groping in the dark, was led to the same train ofreasoning to prove the existence of God that is used by the learnedChristian philosopher; thus proving the truth of that passage inRom. I. 20:--"The invisible things of God, from the creation of theworld are clearly seen, being understood by the things that are made, even his eternal power and Godhead. "

_How to prove the Bible true_. 

At one of the South Sea Islands, which had been converted fromheathenism by the labors of the English Missionaries, they were holdingthe annual meeting of their Missionary Society. A British vesselarrived, and the officers and crew attended the meeting. A native tookthe chair, and native speakers addressed the meeting, with great effect. Every thing was done in good order; and the speeches were interpreted bythe missionaries to the Englishmen present from the ship. But some ofthem said the natives were mere parrots, and only repeated what themissionaries had taught them. Others said that was impossible. After awarm dispute, they agreed to submit it to Mr. Williams, the missionary;who declined deciding the question, but told them if they would visithim in the afternoon, he would collect ten or twelve natives, whom theymight ask any questions they pleased. They came, and about fifteennatives were present, but without knowing the object of the meeting. 

The first question asked was, "Do you believe the Bible to be the wordof God?" They were startled. They had never heard such a questionstated before. A doubt had never entered their minds. After a moment'spause, one of them replied, "Most certainly we do; undoubtedly we do. ""Why do you believe it?" they were again asked. "Can you give any reasonfor believing the Bible to be the word of God?" He answered: "Why, lookat the power with which it has been attended, in the utter overthrow ofall that we have been addicted to from time immemorial. What else couldhave abolished that system of idolatry, which had so long prevailedamong us? No human arguments could have induced us to abandon that falsesystem. "

The same questions were put to another, who replied, "I believe theBible to be the word of God, on account of the pure system of religionwhich it contains. We had a system of religion before; but look how darkand black that system was compared with the bright system of salvationrevealed in the word of God! Here we learn that we are sinners, and thatGod gave Jesus Christ to die for us; and by that goodness salvation isgiven to us. Now, what but the wisdom of God could have produced such asystem as this presented to us in the word of God? And this doctrineleads to purity. "

Another made the following singular reply, which is worthy of a learnedphilosopher: "When I look at myself, I find I have got hinges all overmy body. I have hinges to my legs, hinges to my jaws, hinges to my feet. If I want to take hold of any thing, there are hinges to my hands to doit with. If my heart thinks, and I want to speak, I have got hinges tomy jaws. If I want to walk, I have hinges to my feet. Now here iswisdom, in adapting my body to the various functions which it has todischarge. And I find that the wisdom which made the Bible exactly fitswith this wisdom which has made my body; consequently I believe theBible to be the word of God. "

The argument, in this last answer, is the same as that which proves theexistence of God: the perfect adaptation of all the works of nature totheir design, shows them to have been the work of a SupremeIntelligence. The perfect adaptation of the Bible to the condition, wants, and necessities of man, proves it to be of divine origin. TheBible just suits the design for which it professes to have been given. It gives us just that information and instruction, which we shouldexpect a revelation from heaven to give. It gives a rational account ofthe origin of all things; of the object of man's existence, and of hisrelations and duties to God. It explains how man came to be in hispresent fallen, wretched condition, and makes provision for hisrestoration to the favor of God. It provides for a radical reformationof character; gives a perfect code of morals, and takes hold on theheart, and inspires a devotional spirit. Human wisdom could not haveproduced such a book; but if it could, _good_ men would not have beenguilty of imposing a work of their own upon mankind, as a revelationfrom heaven; and _bad_ men would not have made a book to condemnthemselves, as the Bible condemns all wickedness. We must, then, conclude, that the Bible is a divine book. 

[Illustration]

SECTION II. --THE SABBATH. 

_Nothing lost by keeping the Sabbath_. 

A pious sailor, on board the steamboat Helen McGreggor, in 1830, wasordered by the Captain to assist in handling freight on the Sabbath;which he objected to do, because he wished to keep the Sabbath. "We haveno Sabbaths here at the West, " the Captain replied. "Very well, " saidthe sailor, "wherever I am, I am determined to keep the Sabbath. " Aftera few more words, the Captain settled with him, and he left the boat. Hewas soon offered higher wages, if he would come back; but he refused. Ina few days, he shipped at New Orleans for Europe. The first newspaper hetook up on his arrival contained an account of the terrible disasterwhich happened to this boat soon after he left it. On the morning of the24th of February, 1830, she burst her boiler at Memphis, Tenn. , andnearly one hundred lives were lost. This dreadful disaster he hadescaped, by adhering, at all hazards, to his determination, wherever hewas, to keep the Sabbath. 

When George III. Was repairing his palace, he found among the workmen apious man, with whom he often held serious conversations. One Mondaymorning, when the king went to view the works, this man was missing. Heinquired the reason. At first, the other workmen were unwilling to tell. But the king insisted on knowing; when they confessed that they hadreturned Sabbath morning, to complete a piece of work which they couldnot finish on Saturday, and that this man had been turned out of hisemployment because he refused to come. "Call him back immediately, " saidthe king. "The man who refused doing his ordinary work on the Lord's dayis the man for me. Let him be sent for. " He was restored to his place;and always afterwards, the king showed him particular favor. Here was astrong temptation to break the Sabbath, for the man's employmentdepended on it. But he found it both safe and profitable to keep theSabbath. 

_A wise answer_. 

A wicked man said to his son, who attended the Sabbath School, "carrythis parcel to such a place. " "It is the Sabbath, " said the boy. "Put itin your pocket, " said the father. "God can see into my pocket, " thelittle boy answered. 

_Danger of breaking the Sabbath_. 

It is believed that more sad accidents happen to young persons, whileseeking their pleasure on God's Holy Day, than by any other means. Agreat proportion of the cases of drowning, among boys, occur on theSabbath. One fine summer's morning, two sprightly young lads started forthe Sabbath School; but they were met on the way by some rude boys, whopersuaded them to go and play with them by the side of the river. Theyhesitated for some time, instead of resolutely saying "No, " to the firsttemptation. When they yielded, it was with troubled consciences, forthey were well instructed at home. They played about the river for sometime, when one of them, venturing too near, fell into the water, whichwas deep. His companions were too much frightened to give him anyassistance, and he was carried away by the rapid current and drowned. Thus were these two boys punished for their disobedience to God andtheir parents. 

_But one Sabbath in the week_. 

A person being invited to go on an excursion for pleasure, on the HolySabbath, replied, "I should like an excursion very well; but I have butone Sabbath in the week, and I can't spare that. " This expresses animportant truth in an impressive manner. When we have but one day in theweek exclusively devoted to the concerns of eternity, while six aredevoted to the affairs of time, can we spare that one day for pleasure?It is the best of the seven. It is worth more than all the rest. Ifrightly employed, it will bring us a richer return. What we can earn inthe six days is perishable; but the fruits of a well-spent Sabbath willendure for ever. The Sabbath, when properly spent, is the day for thehighest kind of enjoyment. If, therefore, you would seek pleasure, youcan better afford to take any other day in the week for it, than to takethe holy Sabbath. 

SECTION III. --EARLY PIETY RECOMMENDED. 

A man eighty-seven years of age, meeting another aged man not quite asold as himself, the other inquired of him how long he had beeninterested in religion. "Fifty years, " was the old man's reply. "Well, have you ever regretted that you began so young to devote yourself toGod?" "O no, " said he; and the tears trickled down his cheeks. "I weepwhen I think of the sins of my youth. "

Another man between sixty and seventy years of age, said, "I hope Ibecame a disciple of the Lord when I was seventeen;" and he burst into aflood of tears as he added, "and there is nothing which causes me somuch distress as to think of those seventeen years--some of the verybest portion of my life, --which I devoted to sin and the world. "

This was the experience of David, who, in his old age, prayed, "Remembernot, O Lord the sins of my youth. " And it will be the reader'sexperience, should he ever be brought to a knowledge of the truth, aftergiving the flower of his days to the service of sin and Satan. 

[Illustration]

_Danger of delay_. 

A---- M---- was an impenitent youth. His friend, who had just embracedthe Saviour, in the ardor of his first love, besought him to turn to theLord. He acknowledged the great importance of the things which wereurged upon his attention; and said that, long before, the Spirit of Godhad called upon him, and he was "almost persuaded to be a Christian. "Once he stood almost on the threshhold of heaven. "But now, " said he, "Iam fallen, fallen--O how far! I know that I am not a Christian now. I ama great sinner. I have quenched the Holy Spirit. If I should die as Iam, I know I shall be eternally lost, for I believe the Bible. You maythink, because I am so careless now, I shall die unconverted. But no, Ihave more thoughts about death than many suppose. _I mean to repentbefore I die_, and become a Christian. I cannot think of dying as I nowam; but you need not be concerned about me, _for I mean to repent yet_. "Not many days afterwards, he was crossing a river, with a number ofothers, for the purpose of spending the day in amusement. The skiffupset, and they were plunged into the water. All the rest of the companybut A---- (who was the best swimmer among them), reached the shore. Hewas heard, as he struggled towards the bank, to utter a fearful oath, calling upon God to damn his soul. God took him at his word. He sunk torise no more--a fearful warning on those who presume on futurerepentance!

SECTION IV. --UNCERTAINTY OF LIFE. 

 "Go to now, ye that say, To-day or to-morrow we will go into such a city, and continue there a year, and buy, and sell, and get gain:

 "Whereas ye know not what _shall be_ on the morrow. For what is your life? It is even a vapour, that appeareth for a little time and then vanisheth away. 

 "For that ye _ought_ to say, if the Lord will, we shall live, and do this, or that. "--JAMES iv. 13, 14, 15. 

On Friday, the Editor of the New-York Commercial Advertiser, met a Mr. Storrs in the street and requested from him an account of an Indianadventure which he had heard him relate. Mr. Storrs replied, "I am goingto New Haven in the morning. I will write it there and bring it down foryou on Monday. You shall have it on Monday. " These were his last words. On Monday he was buried. Such is the uncertainty of all humancalculations! Let the business of the day be done to-day; for no one issure of to-morrow. Especially let the great business of life always bedone, and then sudden death need not be dreaded. 

_Sudden death of an impenitent sinner_. 

On a cold day in the middle of winter, a carriage drove up to aminister's house and he was summoned to attend the death-bed of a youngman, who, in the midst of life and health had been just struck down by aviolent kick from a horse, and was not expected to live more than a fewhours. The blow had broken his skull bone, and cut out a piece as largeas the palm of his hand, presenting a ghastly and horrible sight. 

When the minister arrived, he found him just recovering his senses. Thephysician came soon after, and decided that there was no hope of savinghis life. The minister, after saying a few words, and engaging inprayer, proposed to retire for a short time, to give the young man alittle rest. "No, no, " he exclaimed, "do not leave me for a moment. Ihave but a short time to live, and I dare not die as I am. O what shallI do? Tell me quickly before the light of reason forsakes me. "

"James, " said the minister, "there is but one way in which a sinner canbe saved, and that is, by faith in the Lord Jesus Christ;--whether anhour only, or years be allowed you, the only way for you to securesalvation is, by casting yourself unreservedly into the Saviour's hand. Only his blood can save you; and you are welcome now, this moment. Allthings are ready--come now. "

The young man, with a look of anguish, replied, "Do you remember, sir, when I was putting up some shelves in your study, eight months ago, thatyou asked me to stop, while you talked with me about religion, andprayed for me? It was then that I felt that I was a sinner, and aftergoing home, I endeavored to pray for myself, and determined that I wouldseek religion. Two or three days, these feelings continued; when, unhappily for me, I took up a book, which I had commenced reading beforeour conversation, and though conscience remonstrated, I went on andfinished it. My feelings were much enlisted in the story, but when I gotthrough I had no disposition to pray; and my anxiety about religion wasgone. I resumed novel-reading, of which I had been very fond, andcompromised with my conscience, by resolving that at the end of one yearI would throw all such books aside, and seek the salvation of my soul. Only two thirds of that year are gone, and here I am dying! Fool, foolthat I was, to sell my soul for a novel--to prefer the excitement of anidle tale to the joys of religion. "

The minister begged him, whatever had been his past folly and guilt, tolook to Christ for the forgiveness of all. But while he was speaking, the young man's reason began to fail. In a short time he was delirious. "Fool, fool!" he would exclaim, at intervals, and this was all he said. In this state of mind, death overtook him, four months before the periodarrived, to which he had put off attention to the concerns of hissoul--a sad warning to those who defer this first and great concern!

_Sudden Death of a Christian_. 

William G. Was a young man in vigorous health and of ardent temperament, with great energy of character. His office was that of a brakeman uponthe Railroad. A long line of freight cars had been delayed a few minutesbehind the time, and must hasten to reach the turnout in season for thepassenger train, which was expected to pass in a few moments. Two carswere to be detached; which, by a dexterous movement, could be donewithout entirely stopping the train. The moment the engine is slackened, the cars behind will gain a little upon those in front, when theconnecting pin can be removed, and the hinder cars detached. This theyoung man had often done before, and he sprang forward with alacrity toperform it now. But, in the path lay a pebble, so small as to escapenotice, and yet large enough, as he stepped rapidly backwards, to throwhim prostrate on the track, while the heavy-laden cars passed on overhis body. It was the work of an instant, but it was done. There lay, mangled and writhing, the young man, who, not one moment before, wasbuoyant, healthful, full of enterprise and hope. There was no hope ofhis life. With one arm extended, the only unbroken limb in his body, hespeaks: "I must die--I know it--I must die, but thank God I am ready todie. Yes, I am willing to die, if it is God's will. And yet, I shouldlike to live. My poor mother--who will take care of her? My poorsisters--and oh, my _poor dear Mary!_ Send for them--send for them. Sendnow. I must see them once more. I have much to say to them. Oh, my God, thy will be done!" They came, and there was such a burst of grief as isseldom witnessed. Yet, amid all this, he was calm. Not a groan, not amurmur had escaped him through the long hours of bodily suffering whichhe had endured, and not a murmur nor a groan did he suffer now, when theheart-strings were broken. He spoke calmly and clearly to them all, gave them counsel, bade each a tender farewell; then closed his eyes, and sunk into the sleep of death. What would this scene have beenwithout the Christian hope? This young man had anchored his hope firmupon the Rock of Ages. It had supported him in the busy scenes of life. It now sustained him in the sudden hour of trial, when the pains ofdeath seized upon him without warning. "LET ME DIE THE DEATH OF THERIGHTEOUS, AND LET MY LAST END BE LIKE HIS!"

 +----------------------------------------------------------------+ |Transcriber's Note: | | | |Variations in chapter and section heads between the Contents and| |the body of the text have been retained as they appear in the | |original publication. | +----------------------------------------------------------------+