The shouts of half a dozen children were heard from the piazza of one of the 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’re going to have a ride on the Circular Railway. Come with us?” “Yes, if my mother is willing. I will run and ask her,” replied William. “O, O! so you must run and ask your ma. Great baby, run along to your ma! Ain’t you ashamed? I didn’t ask my mother.” “Nor I.” “Nor I,” added half a dozen voices. “Be a man, William,” cried the first voice,—“come along with 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 firmly clenched, 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 would have the true bravery to be called a coward rather than do wrong. But, with a voice trembling with emotion, he replied, “I will not go without I ask my mother; and I am no coward either. I promised her I would not go from the house without permission, and I should be a base coward, if I were to tell her a wicked lie.”
In the evening, William was walking in the parlor, among the crowd, with his mother, a Southern lady, of gentle, polished manners, who looked with pride on her graceful boy, whose fine face was fairly radiant with animation and intelligence. Well might she be proud of such a son, who could 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 whose care their parents have entrusted them. Three boys, Robert, George, and Alfred, went to spend a week with a gentleman, who took them to be agreeable, 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 the pond was frozen over; but the gentleman knew that the ice was very thin near the flood-gate. The first morning after they came, he told them they might go and slide on the pond, if they would not go near the flood-gate. Soon after they were gone, he followed them to see that they were safe. When he got there, he found Robert sliding in the very place where he had told him not to go. This was disobedience outright. George was walking sullenly by the side of the pond, not so much as sliding at all, 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 enjoying himself, in a capital long slide, upon a safe part of the pond. This was true obedience. Suddenly, the ice broke where Robert was sliding, he immediately went under water, and it was with difficulty that his life was saved. The gentleman concluded that Alfred was a lad of integrity, but that his two brothers were not to be trusted. Obedience secured him happiness, and the confidence of the kind gentleman with whom he was staying; while the others deprived themselves of enjoyment, lost the gentleman’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 to their enjoyment. They desired it from mere wilfulness, because it was forbidden. This disposition indulged, will always lead boys into difficulty; and if they cherish it while boys, it will go with them through 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 without making a will, his property goes to his eldest son. Mr. Glanville, who lived in the days of Charles II., had an eldest son, who was incurably vicious; and seeing no hope of reforming him, the father gave his property to his second son. When Mr. Sergeant Glanville died, and his eldest son learned what was done, he became greatly dejected, and in a short time his character underwent an entire change. When his brother perceived 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 be set before his brother; which on being opened, was found to contain the writings that conveyed to him the estate. This, he remarked was what he was sure his father would have done, had he lived to witness the happy change which they saw.