Now I do not believe that any of you can guess what it was that cured master Frederick. It was not a pill, or a poultice; no, it was a story—and as I think it a good one, I will tell it to you.
“There were once two boys,” said the mother, “who went forth into the fields. One was named Horace, and the other was named Clarence. The former was fond of anything that was beautiful—of flowers, of sweet odors, of pleasant landscapes. The other loved things that were hideous or hateful—as serpents, and lizards—and his favorite haunts were slimy swamps and dingy thickets.
“One day the two boys returned from their rambles; Horace bringing a beautiful and fragrant blossom in his hand, and Clarence bringing a serpent. They rushed up to their mother, each anxious to show the prize he had won. Clarence was so forward, that he placed the serpent near his mother’s hand; whereupon the reptile put forth his forked tongue, and then he fixed his fangs in her flesh.
“In a moment a pain darted through the mother’s frame, and her arm began to swell up. She was in great distress, and sent for the physician. When he came, he manifested great alarm, for he said the serpent was an adder, and its bite was fatal, unless he could find a rare flower, for this alone could heal the wound. While he said this, he noticed the blossom which Horace held in his hand. He seized upon it with joy, saying—‘This, this is the very plant I desired!’ He applied it to the wound, and it was healed in an instant.
“But this was not the whole of the story. While these things were taking place, the adder turned upon the hand of Clarence, and inflicted a wound upon it. He screamed aloud, for the pain was very acute. The physician instantly saw what had happened, and applying the healing flower to the poor boy’s wound, the pain ceased, as if by enchantment, and he, too, was instantly healed.”
Such was the story which the mother told to her two sons. She then asked Frederick if he understood the meaning of the tale. The boy hung his head, and made no answer. The mother then went on as follows:—
“My dear Frederick—the story means that he who goes forth with a love of the beautiful, the pleasant, the agreeable, is sure to find it: and that he who goes forth to find that which is evil, is also sure to find what he seeks. It means that the former will bring peace and happiness to his mother, his home, his friends; and that the latter will bring home evil—evil to sting his mother, and evil that will turn and sting himself. The story means that we can find good, if we seek it, in our friends, and that this good is like a sweet flower, a healing plant, imparting peace and happiness to all around. The story means that we can find or fancy evil, if we seek for it, in our friends; but that, like an adder, this only wounds others, and poisons those who love to seize upon it.”
Now this was the way the mother cured her son. Frederick took the story to heart; he laid it up in his memory. When he was tempted to look out for the faults of his companions, and to carry them home, he thought of the adder, and turning away from evil, he looked out for good; and it was not long before he was as successful in finding it as his brother Philip.
Resistance to Pain.
On one occasion, while some missionaries at South Africa were at dinner in their tent, some of the native chiefs and their wives being present, one of them seeing Mr. Read, a missionary, help himself to cayenne pepper, its red color attracted his attention, and he asked for some of it. On getting the cayenne, he instantly threw a quantity of it upon his tongue, but on feeling its pungency, he shut his eyes, clapped his hand upon his mouth, and holding down his head, endeavored manfully to conceal the pain. When he was able to look up, he slyly touched Mr. Read with his foot to intimate that he should say nothing, but give the same dose to the others present. Another chief next got some, who also instantly felt its powers; but, understanding the joke, as soon as he was able to speak, he asked for some for his wife; and thus it went round, to the great diversion of all present.