Eliza Preston.

Jan. 5th.

After reading the note, Jerry said it would do first rate; but instead of returning it to Clinton, as he promised, he put it into his own pocket. Clinton reminded him of his promise, and tried to get the paper back again, but in vain; and Jerry carried on the contest in such a good-natured, bantering spirit, that Clinton could not take offence. Thus the deed was done, so far as Clinton was concerned, without his coming to any decision about it. In such cases as this, no decision at all, is often equivalent to a wrong decision.

As Jerry entered the school-room, that afternoon, he handed the forged note to Master Eaton, who read it, and, without saying anything, tore it up. The deception was successful.

CHAPTER VII.
DISCLOSURES.

My young friend, did you ever master a hard lesson, after a great effort? And do you remember how you felt, after the achievement? Perhaps it was a difficult sum; and when you began, you did not see how you could possibly work your way through it. But you persevered, and covered your slate with long columns of figures, until at length you arrived at the correct answer, and you felt something like the philosopher of old, who exclaimed, after solving a difficulty, Eureka,—I have found it! And now, having conquered this sum, you felt just like attacking a still harder one, the next day. You knew you could do it, because you did the other; and you took hold of it, with a determination to work it out—and you did work it out, did you not?

Perhaps there was another boy in your class, who attempted to do the same thing. But before he had put forth half the effort required, he got tired of the sum, and gave up the attempt. The next day the teacher tried to encourage him to make another attempt, but the boy knew he could not do the sum,—he had tried once, and it was of no use to try again. So the teacher was obliged to turn him back into simple addition and multiplication, and he will probably never get much beyond those departments of arithmetic.

It is precisely the same with everything else that we attempt to do. Suppose, instead of a difficult sum, it was a fault, or temptation, that these two lads tried to master. One of them persevered until he conquered the difficulty, and the result was, his virtuous principles were strengthened, and he was prepared to resist still greater temptations, or to subdue greater faults. His motto is, “I can.” The other boy would not make the necessary effort, and gave up the attempt after a poor, feeble trial. The consequence was, he not only fell into bad habits, but lost his self-reliance, by degrees, until the notion got into his head that it was of no use for him to try to do right. “I can’t” is his motto.

The lesson to be drawn from this is a very important one, as you will see from the history of Clinton. That you may have a clear idea of it, let me state it thus:—

Every temptation resisted, will give you greater confidence in your ability to overcome new temptations. Every temptation yielded to, will impair your self-reliance, and prepare the way for yet greater faults.