Watch—Work—Wait / Or, The Orphan's Victory

by Sarah A. Myers

Mr. Stewart, kind and benevolent as he was, never suffered himself to be carried away by any impulse, however generous it might be. On the day which we have named as the second time of meeting with our hero, when he resumed his pallet-board and began to work on his picture, he did so with an attention which seemed to rest only on the creation before him, as if he were forgetful of all lower subjects, or that there was such a being as a shoemaker's boy in the world.

But the beautiful images that rose from under his hand did not shut out the figure of the orphan boy as he had twice seen him,—once beside the grave of his parents, and again in his study. He was not so absorbed by the love of his art that there was no room in his mind for the reception of those higher subjects which relate to man's ultimate destiny. He felt that every one is sent into the world for a great purpose,—that no man must live wholly for himself, but, partaking of the spirit of the Saviour, labour for the good of others. The counsel given long before to the shoemaker's boy, when he met him in the church-yard at M——, has already proved that he was one who had admitted the truth into his heart, and the root it had taken there had only been deepened by the passage of time. And now, as he sat bringing form after form into beauty from the lifeless canvas, his mind was no less busy than his hand. How could he serve the interests of true religion by interesting himself in the fortunes of the orphan boy? And little Ned Graham,—he, too, was a desolate child. Would William always remain firm in his integrity, when, growing to manhood and left unrestrained, he should have full liberty to do as he pleased? He had acknowledged how easy it was to become used to sin; that, but for the influence exerted by the pious old watchman, he might at this time have been far advanced in the road to ruin. Thomas Burton was old; many things might occur to separate William from that Christian companionship, and then, could he continue pure in such an atmosphere as he should be exposed to? And little Ned, was he not rapidly learning the manners and habits of a street boy? Such were his thoughts; and with that charity which is expansive in its exercise, and never faileth in the heart in which it hath taken root, but always delights in doing good, he resolved to be the helper of these two orphan boys. But, with the prudence which ought ever to characterize every Christian effort, he began his task with caution, lest the endeavour to do good might only be productive of harm.

Little Ned and his good old grandmother were at once cared for; a commodious dwelling was provided, a physician called in, and the suffering invalid restored to comfortable health. Mrs. Stewart gave her suitable employment; and honest Mrs. Bradley, now that she was within a more convenient distance, did also a Christian's part, ministering to her constantly in some good deed. Ned was no longer suffered to run in the streets gathering chips, or asking pennies from strangers, but placed at school, where, we are happy to say, he made such progress as to give great satisfaction to his generous guardian.

It was not quite so easy for the Stewarts to dispose of William; and many were the consultations between Professor Stewart and his son as to how he could best be served. Believing that Mr. Walters was a most unsuitable person to have the rule of a boy like William, and pitying the ignorance in which he was being brought up, he yet hesitated whether it was his duty to interfere, as he had been given into Walters' care by his mother. He feared, too, that in exciting wishes toward other pursuits, he might create a new disgust toward the humble but respectable trade, the "gentle craft," as shoemaking has been termed, and which has furnished so many remarkable men; for our readers are not ignorant that many distinguished as patriots, men of letters, and useful members of society, have come from the shoemaker's bench.

While William, therefore, continued more contentedly than ever to hammer the soles of the new shoes and patch up the old, Mr. Stewart was taking silent but effective measures for bettering his condition. He first went to the old watchman, from whom he heard much in behalf of our hero, and which served to strengthen him in his benevolent project. He found out from the old man, too, that Mr. Walters might be induced to give up the boy; the physician who had attended him in his severe sickness had declared the stooping posture and confinement of the shop very injurious to him,—that his constitution was by no means strong, and that he would never be of robust health. Thomas, delighted that our hero had found a friend like Mr. Stewart, spoke fully on the merits of his character, and the discomforts of his situation, and the great danger he was in from evil companionship. This last feature of the case had more weight with Mr. Stewart than all the rest. He knew that perseverance under untoward difficulties often accomplished great things in bringing out strong points of character; that no position in life, however humble, is an actual bar to intellectual and moral improvement; and that where there is a will, there is always a way. And he knew, too, that the "eye of the Lord is upon them that fear him, that his ears are open to their cry, and that he is able to succour them, being tempted;" and, therefore, he pondered the matter well in his own heart, and consulted often with his father on the expediency of removing William from the guardianship of Mr. Walters.

A conversation with that worthy at last decided the matter. "Bill will never make much of a shoemaker," said he; "the doctor is of opinion that stooping will bring on consumption, and I see he gets very pale if he works steadily. He'll never be of much use to me, now that he is getting too old to be an errand boy; and as just at this time I have a chance of getting a stouter boy for a ''prentice,' you can make what you please of him, if you pay me something for his time."

The bargain was soon concluded; and William, who, kept in happy ignorance of what was going forward, had suffered no anxiety, was amazed beyond the power of language to describe when he was told that he must give up shoemaking for the present, and be the protégé of Mr. Stewart, and take time to recruit his health.

Mr. Stewart said not a word about his becoming a painter; he knew too well how often taste is mistaken for genius, and how many fail of reaching the high standard proposed by themselves at first setting out. Nor, much interested as he was, that interest increasing every day, in our hero, did he at once take him into his own family, as, if we were writing a romance, we might imagine him to have done; no, he resolved to try and test his capacities for some time before he would decide for what post to fit him.

He boarded him with old Mrs. Graham, and sent him to school, where the orphan boy soon became a favourite, maintaining the same pious humility which marked the little shoemaker. Great was the satisfaction of Mr. Stewart as he looked in on the little circle which clustered round old Mrs. Graham's now cheerful hearth. How much is promised to him who giveth only a cup of cold water in the spirit of Him who went about doing good! And the benevolent painter felt the reward of his good deed fall, like the dew from heaven, refreshingly on his own spirit. True, his protégés were very lowly; but God is no respecter of persons, and in radiating this light around the humble dwelling from which sincere petitions for blessings upon him were daily invoked, Mr. Stewart proved himself possessed of the true spirit of Christ.

As time rolled on, he became more satisfied that he had done a good work in removing William from Mr. Walters. He was often invited to join the family circle; and as he remained not only unspoiled, but showed that the intercourse was profitable for the growth of his true character, a closer intimacy at last took place between the little shoemaker and George Stewart, which merged into a friendship that lasted through life. George possessed much of his father's talent, but weak health prevented his making any great advance in the art, and his early death was the first cloud which overshadowed the brightness of the family circle.