Anecdotes for Boys Part 1

Anecdotes for Boys.

by Harvey Newcomb.

PREFACE.

I have noticed that young people are fond of reading anecdotes, narratives, parables, &c. This taste of theirs sometimes leads them to devour all the trash that comes in their way, with no other object than mere amus.e.m.e.nt. But, if properly guarded, it may be the means of conveying truth to their minds in a form not only more attractive, but more readily understood. The design of this book is, to supply reading of this kind, which shall be not only _entertaining_ but _instructive_.

I never write for the amus.e.m.e.nt of the reader merely. But I am glad if he is entertained at the same time that he is instructed.

This book is not a mere compilation of stories. Its main object is to ill.u.s.trate truth and character. No anecdote has been admitted but such as could be turned to this account; and if suited to this purpose, the question has not been asked whether it was new or old. But nearly every one has been entirely rewritten, presented in a new dress, and made to bear on the object in view. The work was suggested, while writing my last two publications, "How to be a Man," and "How to be a Lady." I had designed to ill.u.s.trate the topics there treated of, in this manner, but could not find s.p.a.ce. The favor with which these works have been received, has encouraged me to undertake something of the kind separately. I have prepared two volumes, one for boys and one for girls, but the matter in each is entirely distinct. The same anecdote is in no instance introduced into both books; though in some cases the topics are similar. They form _a pair_, for the rising youth of both s.e.xes; and if they shall contribute in any degree towards forming their characters, after the true model, my object will be attained.

_Grantville, Ma.s.s., Sept. 1847._

ANECDOTES FOR BOYS.

CHAPTER I.

THE BOY MAKES THE MAN.

A man's character is formed early in life. There may be some exceptions.

In some instances, very great changes take place after a person has grown to manhood. But, even in such cases, many of the early habits of thought, feeling, and action still remain. And sometimes, we are disappointed in the favorable appearances of early life. Not unfrequently the promising boy, in youth or early manhood, runs a rapid race downward in the road to ruin. All the promising appearances failed, because they were not formed upon religious principle and a change of heart. But, as a general rule, show me the _boy_, and I will show you the _man_. The following cases afford ill.u.s.trations of this principle.

_Benedict Arnold._

I suppose all my readers have heard of Benedict Arnold, the traitor; and of his attempt to betray his country into the hands of the British, during the Revolutionary War. His name is a by-word in the mouth of every lover of liberty in the land. But there are few that know how he came to be such a character. When we come to learn his early history we feel no more surprise. His father was an intemperate man; and at an early age, Benedict was placed with an apothecary, in Norwich, Connecticut, his native town. His master soon discovered in him the most offensive traits of character. He seemed to be entirely dest.i.tute of moral principle, and even of conscience. He added to a pa.s.sionate love of mischief a cruel disposition and a violent, ungovernable temper. He had no sympathy with any thing that was good. His boyish pleasures were of the criminal and unfeeling cast. He would rob the nests of birds, and mangle and maim the young ones, that he might be diverted by their mother's cries. He would throw broken pieces of gla.s.s into the street, where the children pa.s.sed barefooted, that they might hurt their feet.

He would persuade the little boys to come round the door of his shop, and then beat them with a horse-whip. All this showed a malicious disposition, and great hardness of heart. He hated instruction and despised reproof; and his master could not instil into his mind any religious or moral principles, nor make any good impression upon his heart.

Before Benedict had reached his sixteenth year, he twice enlisted as a soldier and was brought back by his friends. He repaid his mother's kindness with baseness and ingrat.i.tude; so that, between the intemperance and wretchedness of the father, and the cruelty and depravity of the son, she died of a broken heart. When he grew up, the same character followed him. We need not be surprised, then, that, in the most critical period of his country's history, he betrayed his trust. He was a General in the American Army, in the Revolutionary War; and by his extravagance, and his overbearing behavior, he brought upon himself a reprimand from the American Congress. His temper, naturally impetuous, had never been controlled, and he could not bear reproof. He was bent on revenge; and to accomplish it, he entered into a negotiation, through Major Andre, to deliver up West Point, of which he had the command, to the enemy. If the plot had not been discovered and prevented it would have been a very great calamity to our country. It might have turned the scale against us. I have some personal reason to feel indignant at the traitor, besides what arises from the love of country; for my father was on picket guard at West Point, the night in which it was to have been delivered up, and would have been the first man killed. If Arnold had been caught, he would have closed his career on the gallows; but, as it was, he escaped, and a more worthy man suffered. He received, as the reward of his treachery, the appointment of Brigadier General in the British Army, and ten thousand pounds sterling. But his name will go down with the history of his country, to the latest generation, black with infamy. He was a bad boy, and he made a bad man. And, as Solomon has said, "The name of the wicked shall rot."

GEORGE WASHINGTON.

A single incident, in the history of _George Washington as a boy_, furnishes a clew to the character of _George Washington as a man_. I refer to the well known story of the new hatchet and the cherry-tree, with his refusing to tell a lie; which I need not repeat, because it is preserved in the books that are read in our common schools, and embalmed in the memory of the rising generation. This incident shows that he had already in his bosom a deep-seated principle of stern integrity, which no temptation could shake. This was the leading feature in his character when he became a man. We have evidence, also, from other incidents which have been related of his early life, that strong, deep-seated, filial piety, was one of the prominent elements of his youthful character. He had learned, in early life, to honor and obey his parents; and this taught him to love and reverence his country, instead of making himself a despot, as most successful generals do. But, at the bottom of all, was the religious element. Religious principle controlled his conduct both in private and public life.

GOVERNOR RITNER.

_Joseph Ritner_, who was for some time a member of the legislature of Pennsylvania, and afterwards Governor of that state, was once a bound boy to Jacob Myers, an independent farmer, who brought him up. While he was governor, there was a celebration of the fourth of July, at which Mr. Myers gave the following toast:--"JOSEPH RITNER--he was always a _good boy_, and has still grown better; every thing he did, he always did _well_; he made a good _farmer_, and a good legislator; and he makes a _very good governor_." All this man's greatness was the result of his being a _good boy_.

ROGER SHERMAN.

_Roger Sherman_, in his public life, always acted so strictly from his own convictions of what was right, that Fisher Ames used to say, if he happened to be out of his seat in Congress when a subject was discussed, and came in when the question was about to be taken, he always felt safe in voting as Mr. Sherman did, "_for he always voted right_." This was Mr. Sherman's character everywhere. But, if we inquire how it came to be such we must go back to his early life.

Mr. Sherman's character was formed upon the principles of the Bible.

And, when he was an apprentice, instead of joining in the rude and vulgar conversation, so common among the cla.s.s to which he then belonged, he would sit at his work with a book before him, devoting every moment to study, that his eyes could be spared from the occupation in which he was engaged. When he was twenty-one years of age he made a profession of religion. He was as familiar with theology as he was with politics and law. He read the Bible more than any other book.

Always, when he went to Congress, he would purchase a copy of the Bible, at the commencement of the session, to read every day; and when he went home, he would present it to one of his children. Mr. Macon, of Georgia, said of him, that he had more common sense than any man he ever knew.

Mr. Jefferson, one day, as he was pointing out to a friend the distinguished men in Congress, said of him, "That is Mr. Sherman, a man who _never said a foolish thing in his life_." Mr. Sherman was a self-educated man, a shoemaker, _and a Christian_. He was brought up, after the old New-England fashion, in a pious Connecticut family. _And, as was the boy, so was the man._ If you would be a good man, you must be a good boy. If you would be a wise man you must be a studious boy. If you would have an excellent character, it must be formed after the model delineated in the Holy Bible. The basis must be a change of heart. The superstructure must be laid up on the principles of G.o.d's word.

CHAPTER II.

FILIAL PIETY.

By _Filial Piety_, I mean the exercise of those feelings of reverence, submission, and love; and the faithful and conscientious discharge of those duties, which children owe their parents.

The first duty which man owes, is to _G.o.d_; the second, to his _Parents_. They are his appointed guardians, in the season of helplessness and inexperience. G.o.d has entrusted him to their care; and in return for that care, he requires _honor and obedience_. A child cannot be pious toward G.o.d without being pious toward his parents. The _corner stone_ of a good character must be laid in piety towards G.o.d; the rest of the foundation, in piety towards Parents. Show me the boy that honors his parents, and I will show you the man that will obey the laws of his country, and make a good citizen. Show me the boy that is disobedient to his parents, and turbulent and ungovernable at home, and I will show you the man that will set at naught the laws of his country, and be ready to every evil work. When a boy ceases to respect his father or to love his mother, and becomes tired of home and its sacred endearments, there is very little hope of him.

GEORGE WASHINGTON.

When George Washington was about fourteen years of age, he wanted to join the Navy. Accordingly, all the arrangements were made for him, in company with several of his young companions, to go on board a man of war. When the time arrived, he went into the sitting-room, to take leave of his mother. He found her in tears. He threw his arms about her neck and kissed her, and was about bidding her "farewell;" but seeing her so much afflicted, he suddenly relinquished his purpose. The boat which was taking officers, men, and baggage, from the sh.o.r.e to the ship, went back and forth, in his sight. At length it came ash.o.r.e for the last time. A signal flag was raised to show that all was ready. George was standing, viewing all these movements. Several of his companions now entered the boat, and as they approached the ship, signal guns were fired; and soon after, the sails rose majestically, one after another. George could no longer bear the sight, but entered the room where his mother sat.

Observing that his countenance bore a strong expression of grief, she said, "I fear, my son, that you have repented your determination to stay at home and make me happy." "My dear mother," he replied, placing his arms round her neck, and giving vent to his feelings in a gush of tears, "I did strongly wish to go; but I could not endure being on board the ship, and know that you were unhappy." He was young, ardent, and ambitious, and had doubtless antic.i.p.ated, with great delight, the pleasure he should have, in sailing to different places, on board a man of war; and, although the expectation of pleasure which boys sometimes indulge, in the prospect of a sea-faring life are delusive; yet, it was a n.o.ble generosity to sacrifice all the high hopes he had cherished, to the feelings of his mother.

_Obey G.o.d rather than man._

As a general thing, it is the duty of children to obey their parents; but, when a parent commands what is wrong, the child should not obey. A poor woman told her son to cut down a large pear tree, which stood in the garden of the cottage where they lived, for firewood, as they were suffering from cold. The boy made no answer. His mother repeated her command; but he still hesitated, and said, "Mother, I ought to obey you, but I must first obey G.o.d. The tree is not ours. It belongs to our landlord; and you know that G.o.d says, 'Thou shalt not steal.' I hope you will not make me cut it down." She yielded, for the time; but after suffering from cold a day or two longer, she told him he must cut down the tree. He then said to her, "Mother; G.o.d has often helped us, and supplied our wants when we have been in trouble. Let us wait till this time to-morrow. Then, if we do not find some relief, though I am sure it will be wrong, yet if you make me do it, I will cut the tree in obedience to your command." To this she agreed. The boy retired to his closet, and prayed earnestly that G.o.d would help them, and save him from being compelled to break his law. The next morning, he went out and found a man whose wagon had broken down under a heavy load of coal. He told the man his case, who agreed to let him carry away the coal, and they might pay for it, if they were able, when he called for it. But he never called. It is _always safe to do right_.

_A son's love._

A man in Sweden was condemned to suffer death for some offences committed while he held a public office. He had a son, about eighteen years of age; who, as soon as he heard of it, hastened to the judge and begged that he might be allowed to suffer instead of his father. The judge wrote to the king about it; who was so affected by it that he sent orders to grant the father a free pardon, and confer upon the son a t.i.tle of honor. This, however, the son refused to receive. "Of what avail," said he, "could the most exalted t.i.tle be to me, humbled as my family already is in the dust?" The king wept, when he heard of it, and sent for the young man to his court.

_Filial piety rewarded._

Frederick, king of Prussia, one day rung his bell, and n.o.body answering, opened the door and found his page fast asleep. Seeing a letter in his pocket, he took it out and read it, and found it was a letter from his mother, thanking him for having sent a part of his wages to relieve her wants. The king was so much pleased that he slipped a bag full of ducats into the young man's pocket, along with the letter.

_Filial Tenderness._

A young man, newly admitted to the military school in France, would eat nothing but bread and soup, and drink nothing but water. He was reproved for his singularity; but still he would not change. He was finally threatened with being sent home, if he persisted. "You will not, I hope, be displeased with me," said he to the Princ.i.p.al of the inst.i.tution; "but I could not bring myself to enjoy what I think a luxury, while I reflect that my dear father and mother are in the utmost indigence. They could afford themselves and me no better food than the coa.r.s.est of bread, and of that but very little. Here I have excellent soup, and as much fine wheat bread as I choose. I look upon this to be very good living; and the recollection of the situation in which I left my parents, would not permit me to indulge myself by eating any thing else."

_Filial impiety punished._

G.o.d has promised long life and prosperity to the child that honors his parents. Of course, this promise is not meant to be _absolute_; for many die before they have an opportunity of obeying the command, and others are taken away for wise reasons. But, as a general principle, the promise is verified. On the contrary, the word of G.o.d declares, "The eye that mocketh at his father, and scorneth to obey his mother, the ravens of the valley shall pick it out, and the young eagles shall eat it;"

meaning that G.o.d will visit with sore punishment those that despise and ill-treat their parents. Boys, when they begin to approach manhood, are very apt to think themselves wiser than their parents, and to be restive and turbulent under restraint. Two young men in England, the sons of pious and wealthy parents, wanted the family carriage to ride out and seek their pleasure on the holy Sabbath. This being repeatedly refused, they resolved to resent it; and accordingly went off with the determination to go to sea. Their father sent word to Rev. Mr. Griffin, of Portsea, requesting him to find them, and try to persuade them to return. He did so; and among other things, urged the feelings of their parents; who, after watching over them with so much care and tender anxiety, must now see all their hopes blasted. This touched the heart of the younger, and he consented to return; but the elder was obstinate.

The carriage, he said, had been refused, he had made up his mind to go to sea, and to sea he would go. Mr. Griffin then requested the young man to go with him to his house, and he would get him a ship that he might go out as a man and a gentleman. This he declined, giving as a reason, that it would make his parents _feel_ to have it said that their son went out as a common sailor; as a common sailor, therefore, he would go.

"Is that your disposition?" said Mr. Griffin; "then, young man, go; and while I say, G.o.d go with you, be sure your sin will find you out, and for it G.o.d will bring you into judgment." The younger son was restored to his parents, while all traces of the elder were lost, and he was mourned for as for one dead.

After a considerable time, a sailor called on Mr. Griffin, and informed him that there was a young man on board one of the ships in the harbor, under sentence of death, who wanted to see him. What was his astonishment, on finding the young man, who had gone to sea to be revenged on his parents for refusing him a sinful indulgence, a prisoner, manacled and guarded! "I have sent for you," said the young man, "to take my last farewell of you in this world, and to bless you for your efforts to restore me to a sense of my duty. Would to G.o.d that I had taken your advice; but it is now to late. My sin _has_ found me out, and for it G.o.d _has_ brought me into judgment." Mr. Griffin spent some time with the young man in conversation and prayer; and then hastened to London, to see if he could not get him pardoned. But, when he arrived there, the warrant had already been sent for the young man's execution. He returned home, and arrived on the morning that the young man was to be executed. Within a few minutes after his arrival came a pardon, with which he hastened to the ship, where he met the young man's father, in the greatest agony, as he was returning from taking, as he supposed, his last farewell of his son. Mr. Griffin entered the vessel at the moment when the prisoner, pinioned for execution, was advancing towards the fatal spot. In a few moments, he was restored to the embrace, of his father. Thus he suffered shame and ignominy, and the agonies of death, as a punishment for his disobedience to his parents; though, in consequence of his penitence, his life was spared.

_Think how you will feel when your parents are gone._

A young man was lamenting the death of a most affectionate parent. His companions, to console him, said that he had always behaved to the deceased with tenderness, duty, and respect. "So I thought," he replied, "while my parent was living; but now I recollect with pain and sorrow, many instances of disobedience and neglect, for which, alas, it is too late to make any atonement." If you would avoid this bitter reflection, ask yourself, when disposed to do any thing that will grieve your parents, "With what feelings shall I think of this, when they are dead and gone?"