There was another boy older than Henry at the school, whose purposes were all on his tongue. You never could be long beside him without hearing him tell what “he could do.” It did not matter who you were speaking of, or what they had done, Richard could do more. Little boys, the first week they were at the academy, looked up to Richard with much reverence, for they believed what he said of himself, but the second week they knew him better; for though his tongue spoke of great things, he did very little; and in a short while longer, they found out that Richard was a boaster, a vain-bragger, who gave his tongue all the work that his head, feet, and hands should have done; all his purposes were on his tongue, but he never performed them.
James Ferrier was very unlike either of these boys; his father was a poor man; and James was despised by many of the boys, when he came among them, because his jacket was coarse, and his dress clumsily made. But he cared not; quietly and calmly he took his seat in the class where Henry was, and though he had been two years shorter time at Latin than the other boys of the class, it was he whose name stood first on the list, when Henry stood third. He had no tutor at home to help him; he had far to walk to the class; and his time for his lessons was shortened by duties he had to do at home. Still James succeeded, because he had a purpose in his heart,—he did not think about it,—he did not speak about his purpose, but he did it!
Which of these three boys was likest Daniel? Which of these boys is likest to you? A purpose in the heart is like a spring of water; you may stem it up at one spot, but it will burst out at another,—it will be done! Let the purpose of your heart be that you will not sin, and you will be great and good too.
