THE GUILTY CONSCIENCE.
A mother one day returned home very sorrowful, and lamented bitterly to her husband that she had heard that one of their sons had beaten a poor child.
"This," said she, "must have certainly been done by our naughty Caspar, but he will deny it if I put the question to him."
"I will answer for it," said the prudent father, "that I will put the question to him in a way in which he cannot answer with a lie; and thereby come at the truth."
They soon after went to the supper table, and Caspar was very still and quiet: he ate little, and spoke still less. He seldom looked at his parents, who were very grave and serious, and then only with stolen glances.
The sons soon after went to bed.—They all slept in separate beds, but in the same room.
About half an hour after, when they were gone to sleep, their father entered the chamber, and took pains to make a great noise in shutting the door. Caspar instantly sprang out of bed, and full of fear cried out, "What is it? What is the matter?"
"Nothing," answered the father, "I was only wishing to see who among you was asleep." The two other brothers were sleeping softly and sweetly, and did not awake until they were aroused by Caspar's cry. The father then went out again.
The next day the father called Caspar to him, and, before his mother and all the children, said to him, "You beat a poor child, yesterday, did you?" Caspar, who thought that it had all come out, began to excuse himself.—"He struck me too, and—" His father would not suffer him to proceed any farther. "Caspar!" said he "why do you make us so much trouble and sorrow? Yesterday, we heard that one of our sons had beaten a poor child, but we did not then know who had done it. But when I saw you eating in so much fear and trouble, and still more, when you could not sleep from uneasiness and your guilty conscience drove you from your bed as soon as I opened the door, I was convinced that you were the guilty one. See, how miserable wickedness can make us. You have been sufficiently punished by your anxiety and fear, but you must now endeavor to do some good to the poor child, and make atonement for your faults. What will you do?"
Caspar acknowledged his fault, and promised to do every thing that his father commanded him.
He who does wrong is always sure to repent of it, for he is punished by his own conscience, if in no other way.