Strive and Thrive Part 2

"That is just what I think," said James. "I should be afraid that G.o.d would strike me dead, as he did the wicked man and his wife whom we read of in the Bible, who told a lie to Peter about the price he got for the land he had sold."

"I have often heard that story," said Hiram; "but G.o.d does not strike people dead _now_ when they tell lies."

"He has the power to do it," said James; "and he is just as angry at liars now as he was then. When I told a lie, my mother talked to me a great deal about the sin of lying. She said that Satan was called the father of lies; and that, though G.o.d does not punish them at the time they sin, he has said, 'All liars shall have their part in the lake which burneth with fire and brimstone;' and he will surely keep his word."

"Yes, that is an awful fate, which we all ought to try to avoid," said Thomas. "But see," he added, "I have wiped off all the ink I can with this piece of sponge; and as that is all we can do to repair the harm, I think we had better shut up the school-room and go home."

"I am sure you are very kind," said James, as he looked into the desk; "for you have done it much more nicely than I could."

Thomas locked the desk, and put away the key where Mr. Wise had told him. Then, when all was ready, the boys put on their caps and overcoats, and started for home.

James was very sorry indeed for having injured Mr. Wise's papers and letters, for he knew how much he valued some of them; and he felt real regret at having been so remiss in doing his duty. The words of Mr.

Wise, "I think I can rely upon James to do what is right," were all the time in his mind; and his heart blamed him for not having proved worthy of the trust. "I ought not to have minded when they called me to try if I could jump over that stool. I have paid very dear for doing so, and much more than the game was worth, I am sure. It was not the proper way to behave in school, either: for I would not have done so if the master had been there; and when he is absent I should not act in a way that I know he would not like if he could see me."

Every kind word that the master had ever spoken to him seemed to rise up before him, to chide his breach of trust. He sighed deeply, as he said, "Mr. Wise has indeed been very kind to me; and all I can do now to repair the wrong I have done him, is fully and freely to tell him the whole story, and ask him to pardon me. But my Father in heaven has been more kind to me than any friend I have on earth could be; and, first of all, I will humbly ask his pardon of my sin."

Then he knelt down, and prayed that G.o.d would pardon the wrong he had done, and help him to be more on his guard in the future, and to tell the whole truth to Mr. Wise.

The next day James went to school with a heavy heart. Mr. Wise was at his desk when he went in, and was about calling the boys to order to begin the school duties. Then, as was his custom, he read some verses from the Bible, and offered a short prayer. When this was done, James waited a while for him to ask about his desk; but he said nothing, though he looked grave and sad. Then James left his seat, and went up to the desk with a firm tread. The eyes of all the boys in the room were fixed upon him; but he did not seem to notice it, for his own were bent toward the ground. He hardly raised them, to look at Mr. Wise, as he said, in a low tone,--

"It was I, sir, who upset the inkstand over your papers; and I am very sorry for it."

"Well, never mind," said Mr. Wise, kindly, for he saw how sad James was; "I dare say you did it while putting away my things, and could not help it."

"No, sir," said James; "I did it in trying to jump over that high stool.

I know it was wrong; and I hope you will pardon me."

Mr. Wise looked grave.

"It was a rude way to behave when I trusted you so far as to leave you here alone," he said. "But as your sorrow seems so real, I will pardon you. I know, too, that you do not ask this of me from a dread that I will punish you for what has been done, but from a sense of duty, and a feeling of regret at having done wrong."

"You are very kind," said James, "and I thank you for it; but oh, sir, will you ever _trust_ me again as you once did? For, indeed, I will try hard to deserve it always."

Mr. Wise paused, and looked in his face for a moment, and then said,--

"Yes; I feel that I can trust you still; for I think that you will be more on your guard for the future. And, at any rate," he said, taking the hand of James in his own, "I can rely firmly upon your word; for you have always told me the truth--the whole truth; and when you do wrong, you never try to excuse it, or make it seem right."

James tried to thank Mr. Wise for the kind words he had spoken, but he could not; his heart was too full for words, and he could only press the hand which held his own, in token of what he felt. As he did this, he turned away from the desk.

He had hardly taken his seat, when Edward West rose and went up to Mr.

Wise, and after him, one by one, came each of the four boys who had gone back into the school-house on the day before without leave. Not one stayed behind--not even the one who had been so angry lest James Black should tell of them. As head of the party, Edward spoke for them, telling Mr. Wise that they were to blame for the ruin of his papers, as James would not have been likely to leave his work if they had not come back to school to tempt him. He said that they knew that they had done wrong in not going home as they were told, and that if the master chose to punish them, they felt that it was but right, but that they hoped to behave better in time to come.

Mr. Wise was pleased with the frank manner of the boys, in so freely telling him of their bad conduct; yet their doing so was a matter of some wonder to him. Perhaps Edward saw this, for he said,--

"At first we urged James to hide his fault from you, sir; but when he told us, in such a firm way, that he would not tell a lie, we were shamed out of our own desire to conceal the truth."

"You did right, in part," said Mr. Wise; "but I hope you will learn to tell the truth from a pure love of truth, and to shun a lie from a deep hatred of all that is false. Study your Bibles, and you will find how G.o.d hates lying; and you will also learn there the awful fate of liars."

Then, after a few words of reproof and caution, he sent them to their seats.

Mr. Wise felt very sorry at the loss of his letters and papers, for they were of great value to him; but he nearly forgot his sorrow in the joy which it gave him to find his pupils ready to confess their faults so freely to him.

How plain it is that the path of duty is the only path of peace and safety!

[Ill.u.s.tration]

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE FEAR OF THE LORD IS THE BEGINNING OF WISDOM.]

Try Again.

"Have you finished your lesson, George?" said Mr. Prentice to a lad in his fourteenth year, who had laid aside his book, and was busily engaged in making a large paper kite.

"No, father," replied George, hanging down his head.

"Why not, my son?"

"Because it is so difficult, father. I am sure that I shall never learn to read Latin."

"And what is the reason that you cannot learn Latin?"

"Because--because I can't."

"Can't learn, George!"

"Indeed, I have tried my best," replied the boy earnestly, the tears starting to his eyes; "but it is no use, father. Other boys can get their lessons without any trouble; but I try, and try, but still I cannot learn them."

"I 'cannot,' is a word no boy should ever utter in reference to learning. You _can_ learn anything you please, George, if you only persevere."

"But not Latin, father."

"Yes, Latin."

"But have I not tried, and tried, father?"

"Yes; but you must try once more."

"And so I have, father."

"Well, try again, and again; never say you cannot learn a lesson."

"But then I cannot remember it after I have learned it, my memory is so bad," urged the lad.