With pride and pleasure little Agnes turned the hands, till they pointed just to the hour. It was almost time for her to set off for school, which she did in very high glee, showing to all the companions whom she met the beautiful present of her uncle.
"I am back a little earlier than usual, am I not, mother?" were the first words of Agnes White, when she returned from morning school. "Oh, you need not look at your watch,—you know I have now a watch of my own!" Agnes pulled out her bright little toy, and there were the hands exactly where she had placed them, pointing to a quarter of ten!
"Did you expect them to move, when there was no mainspring inside?" asked the widow with a smile.
Agnes scarcely knew whether to look vexed or amused. "I was a stupid little girl to fancy that they would move," said she; "mine is a very pretty watch, but it is only good to be looked at," and she laid it down on the table with an air of disappointment.
"Ah, my child," said Lydia White, gently drawing her little daughter towards her; "is not the watch without springs like that of which we were yesterday speaking, good conduct without a good motive? The most precious part of a real watch is that part which is unseen; and in like manner, it is the hidden motive for any good act which alone can give it true value."
"But ought we never to care how our conduct appears?" asked the child.
"Yes, my Agnes," replied her mother, "for those who have been bought with a price, even the precious blood of God's dear Son, are called to glorify their heavenly Master both with their bodies and their souls. We are called so to live that the world may say, 'There must be power in religion, for none are so honest, so true, so kind as those who are servants of God.'"
"I don't quite understand," said Agnes.
"Look again, dear child, at my watch, it may help to make the subject clearer. You know that the watch is a good one, you know that the mainspring is right."
Agnes nodded her head.