Part 6 (2/2)
Some days after this the boys were going a fis.h.i.+ng. Henry had a beautiful fis.h.i.+ng-rod, which his father had bought for him.
George--for by that name I shall call the boy who abused Henry--was very desirous of borrowing this fis.h.i.+ng-rod, and yet was ashamed to ask for it. At last, however, he summoned courage, and called out to Henry upon the play-ground--
”Henry, will you lend me your rod to go a fis.h.i.+ng?”
”O yes,” said Henry; ”if you will go home with me, I will get it for you now.”
Poor George felt ashamed enough for what he had done. But he went home with Henry to get the rod.
They went up into the barn together, and when Henry had taken his fis.h.i.+ng-tackle from the place in which he kept it, he said to George, ”I have a new line in the house, which father bought me the other day; you may have that too, if you want it.” George could hardly hold up his head, he felt so ashamed. However, Henry went and got the new line, and placed it upon the rod, and gave them into George's hand.
A few days after this, George told me about it. ”Why,” said he, ”I never felt so ashamed in my life. And one thing is certain, I will never call Henry names again.”
Now, who does not admire the conduct of Henry in this affair? This forgiving spirit is what G.o.d requires. The child who would be the friend of G.o.d, must possess this spirit. You must always be ready to forgive. You must never indulge in the feelings of revenge. You must never desire to injure another, how much soever you may feel that others have injured you. The spirit of the Christian is a forgiving spirit.
G.o.d also requires of his friends, that they shall ever be doing good, as they have opportunity. The Christian child will do all in his power to make those happy who are about him. He will disregard himself that he may promote the happiness of others. He will be obliging to all.
This world is not your home. You are to remain here but a few years, and then go to that home of joy or wo, which you never, never will leave. G.o.d expects you to be useful here. ”How can I do any good?”
do you say? Why, in many ways. You can make your parents happy; that is doing good. You can make your brothers and sisters happy; that is doing good. You can try to make your brothers and sisters more obedient to their parents; that is doing good. You can set a good example at school; that is doing good. If you see your companions doing any thing that is wrong, you can try to dissuade them. You can speak to your bosom friend, upon the Savior's goodness, and endeavor to excite in his heart the feelings which are in yours. Thus you may be exerting a good influence upon all around you. Your life will not be spent in vain. G.o.d will smile upon you, and give joy in a dying hour.
Some children appear to think that if they are Christians, they cannot be so happy as they may be if they are not Christians. They think that to love G.o.d, and to pray, and to do their duty, is gloomy work. But G.o.d tells us that none can be happy but those who love him. And every one who has repented of sin, and loves the Savior, says that there is more happiness in this mode of life than in any other. We may indeed be happy a little while without piety. But misfortunes and sorrows will come. Your hopes of pleasure will be disappointed. You will be called to weep; to suffer pain; to die. And there is nothing but religion which can give you a happy life and a peaceful death. It is that you may be happy, not unhappy, that G.o.d wishes you to be a Christian.
It is true that at times it requires a very great struggle to take a decided stand as a Christian. The proud heart is reluctant to yield.
The worldly spirit clings to worldly pleasure. It requires bravery and resolution to meet the obstacles which will be thrown in your way. You may be opposed. You may be ridiculed. But, notwithstanding all this, the only way to ensure happiness is to love and serve your Maker. Many children know that they ought to love G.o.d, and wish that they had resolution to do their duty. But they are afraid of the ridicule of their companions. Henry, who would not rob the orchard, was a brave boy. He knew that they would laugh at him. But what did he care? He meant to do his duty without being frightened if others did laugh. And the consciousness of doing his duty afforded him much greater enjoyment than he could possibly have received from eating the stolen fruit. Others of the boys went and robbed the orchard, because they had not courage to refuse to do as their companions did.
They knew it was wrong, but they were afraid of being laughed at. But which is the most easy to be borne, the ridicule of the wicked, or a condemning conscience, and the displeasure of G.o.d? It is so with all the duties of the Christian. If you will conscientiously do that which G.o.d approves, he will give you peace of mind, and prepare you for eternal joy.
One of the most eminent and useful of the English clergymen was led, when a child, by the following interesting circ.u.mstance, to surrender himself to the Savior. When a little boy, he was, like other children, playful and thoughtless. He thought, perhaps, that he would wait until he was old, before he became a Christian. His father was a pious man, and frequently conversed with him about heaven, and urged him to prepare to die.
On the evening of his birth-day, when he was ten years of age, his father took him affectionately by the hand, and reminding him of the scenes through which he had already pa.s.sed, urged him to commence that evening a life of piety. He told him of the love of Jesus. He told him of the danger of delay. And he showed him that he must perish for ever unless he speedily trusted in the Savior, and gave his life to his service. As this child thought of a dying hour, and of a Savior's love, his heart was full of feeling, and the tears gushed into his eyes. He felt that it was time for him to choose whether he would live for G.o.d or for the world. He resolved that he would no longer delay.
His father and mother then retired to their chamber to pray for their child, and this child also went to his chamber to pray for himself. Sincerely he gave himself to the Savior. Earnestly he implored forgiveness, and most fervently entreated G.o.d to aid him to keep his resolutions and to refrain from sin. And do you think that child was not happy, as, in the silence of his chamber, he surrendered himself to G.o.d? It was undoubtedly the hour of the purest enjoyment he ever had experienced, Angels looked with joy upon that evening scene, and hovered with delight and love around that penitent child. The prayers of the parent and the child ascended as grateful incense to the throne, and were accepted. And from that affecting hour, this little boy went on in the path which leads to usefulness, and peace, and heaven. He spent his life in doing good. A short time since, he died a veteran soldier of the cross, and is now undoubtedly amid the glories of heaven, surrounded by hundreds, who have been, by his instrumentality, led to those green fields and loved mansions.
Oh, what a rapturous meeting must that have been, when the parents of this child pressed forward from the angel throng, to welcome him, as, with triumphant wing, he entered heaven! And, oh, how happy must they now be, in that home of songs and everlasting joy!
It is thus that piety promotes our enjoyment. It promotes our happiness at all times. It takes away the fear of death, and deprives every sorrow of half its bitterness. Death is the most gloomy thought that can enter the minds of those who are not Christians. But the pious child can be happy even when dying. I was once called to see a boy who was very dangerously sick, and expected soon to die. I expected to have found him sorrowful. But, instead of that, a happy smile was on his countenance, which showed that joy was in his heart.
He sat in bed, leaning upon his pillow, with a hymn book in his hand, which he was reading. His cheeks were thin and pale, from his long sickness, while, at the same time, he appeared contented and happy.
After conversing with him a little while, I said,
”Do you think you shall ever get well again?”
”No, sir,” he cheerfully replied, ”the doctor says I may perhaps live a few weeks, but that he should not be surprised if I should die at any time.”
”Are you willing to die?” I said.
”O yes, sir,” he answered; ”sometimes I feel sad about leaving father and mother. But then I think I shall be free from sin in heaven, and shall be with the Savior. And I hope that father and mother will soon come to heaven, and I shall be with them then. I am sometimes afraid that I am too impatient to go.”
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