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BJ  1025 
.C8 
1855 
Copy  1 


ELEMENTARY 
ORAL 


§ tanj  of  $<mgtw 

^ru/  OX 


UNITED  STATES  OF  AMERICA. 


2^ 


^X     (/fry 


ELEMENTARY 


MORAL    LESSONS, 


FOR 


SCHOOLS  AND  FAMILIES. 


BY 


OT.  F.  COWDERT, 

rUPERINTEXDENT  OF  PUBLIC  SCHOOLS,   SATSDTJSKT,    OHIO. 


The  Good  alone  are  Great. 


SANDUSKY: 
BILL,  COOKE  AND  COMPANY,  PRINTERS. 

1855. 


S 


V 


&\*« 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1855,  by 

M.  F.   COWDEEY, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States  for  the  Northern  District 

of  Ohio. 


PREFACE. 


Ill  the  preparation  of  a  series  of  volumes  on  Mora] 
Instruction  for  the  use  of  eJ asses  in  schools,  the  following 
positions  are  assumed : 

First — That  an  important  department  of  education — 
that  which  relates  to  social  duties  and  moral  obligations 
— is  at  present,  to  a  large  extent,  neglected. 

Second — That,  in  conducting  the  work  of  moral  culture, 
important  principles  and  precepts  need  illustration  and 
exemplification  by  real  and  supposed  instances  of  con- 
formity to  them,  or  departure  from  them,  as  well  as,  and 
as  much  as,  propositions  in  mathematics,  or  the  other 
sciences'? 

It  would  be  quite  an  uninteresting,  if  not  a  repulsive 
exercise,  for  the  teacher  to  assure  and  re-assure  his  pupils 
that  the  "product  of  the  means  would  always  equal  the 
product  of  the  extremes"  in  a  proportion,  and  then  leave 
them  to  grope  their  way  through  the  application  of  the 
principle  without  further  illustration  or  aid  from  the  skill 
and  resources  of  the  teacher,  or  from  the  storehouse  of 
human  wisdom. 

Is  it  any  more  rational  to  teach,  or  rather,  to  fell  a 
child,  that  "virtue  leads  to  happiness,"  or  that  "sincerity 
and  truth  form  the  basis  of  every  virtue,"  and  then  leave 
him  to  ascertain  the  truth  of  these  propositions  by  bitter 


4  PREFACE. 

experience,  and  perhaps,  a  life  of  disappointment,  humil- 
iation and  sorrow,  instead  of  presenting  to  his  intellect 
and  to  his  sensibilities,  during  all  the  early  years  of  his 
life,  such  rich,  varied,  living  exemplifications  of  specific 
virtues,  as  shall  lead  him  to  love,  and  aid  him  to  practice, 
the  same  virtues? 

Third — Reason  and  experience  unite  in  demanding  that- 
moral  culture  for  the  child,  the  youth  or  the  adult,  should 
receive  a  portion  of  time  and  attention  every  day.  It 
would  be  quite  appropriate,  also,  to  add,  that  this  labor 
should  stand  first  in  the  order  of  importance,  that  the 
highest  skill  of  the  teacher  should  be  expended  here,  and 
that  parents,  school  authorities  and  society,  should  unite 
in  demanding  of  every  teacher  both  personal  moral  worth, 
and  the  ability  to  promote  the  growth  of  the  moral  nature 
of  others,  as  a  pre-requisite  to  all  other  qualities  and  at- 
tainments in  his  profession  as  a  teacher. 

Fourth — It  is  assumed  and  thoroughly  believed,  that 
moral  culture,  to  such  an  extent  as  to  enlist  the  sympa- 
thies, form  the  early  sentiments,  and,  in  a  great  degree  to 
control  the  motives  and  conduct,  is  entirely  practicable  in 
a  regular  course  of  Common  School  instruction.  The  ob- 
jections which  are  supposed  to  exist  to  the  introduction 
of  this  subject  to  all  classes  of  pupils,  have  little  or  no 
foundation  in  reality.  The  difficulty  is  in  the  want  of 
proper  love  for  the  subject,  or  the  requisite  skill,  or  the 
necessary  prudence,  or  the  proper  aids  in  this  work,  on 
the  part  of  the  teacher.  It  is  claimed  that  a  text  book. 
and  preparation  of  lessons,  and  a  regular  recitation  hour, 


PREFACE.  5 

arc  as  necessary  here  as  ill  arithmetic.  Any  instruction 
given  upon  important  subjects,  should  be  regular  and 
systematic. 

The  present  volume  is  intended  to  aid  teachers  in  a 
general  presentation  of  those  common  virtues  and  duties 
which  require  very  early  attention.  It  is  also  intended 
as  an  introduction  to  a  more  full  discussion  and  a  more 
close  practical  application  of  right  principles  to  motives 
and  conduct,  in  two  subsequent  volumes. 

It  is  recommended  that,  in  addition  to  the  regular 
preparation  of  each  lesson  by  the  pupil,  that  the  narra- 
tives should  be  occasionally  read  by  the  class,  or,  what 
is  often  quite  as  well,  that  some  pupil,  or  pupils,  be  selec- 
ted to  give  from  memory,  the  principle  incidents  of  each 
of  the  narratives  introduced.  The  sympathies  thereby 
awakened,  and  the  general  impression  made,  will  often, 
in  this  way,  be  considerably  increased. 

It  will,  of  course,  be  presumed,  that  the  thoughtful 
teacher  will  present  other  questions  than  such  as  may  be 
found  in  the  book,  and,  thereby,  more  completely  adapt 
instruction  to  the  wants  and  capacities  of  his  or  her  pupils. 

It  would  be  highly  gratifying  to  the  author  to  be  able 
to  give  proper  credits  for  all  the  narratives  introduced  in 
the  present  volume,  but  as  they  have  been  selected  from 
a  great  variety  of  sources,  and  from  several  years  of 
reading  and  experience;  and,  in  many  cases,  where  the 
original  source  could  not  be  well  ascertained,  the  credits 
are,  for  the  most,  part  omitted 

Sandlsky,  Ohio,        j 
November  12,  3855.  \ 


CONTENTS. 


Preface, 

LESSON. 

I.  Do  unto  others  as  you  would  have  others  do  to  you, 

II.  Eepay  all  injuries  with  kindness, 

TIL  A  little  wrong  clone  to  another  is  a  great  wrong  done 

to  ourselves, 

IV.  The  noblest  courage  is  the  courage  to  do  right,    . 

V.  Be  slow  to  promise,  but  sure  to  perform, 

VI.  Honor  thy  father  and  thy  mother, 

VII.  Think  the  truth,— speak  the  truth, — act  the  truth, 

VIII.  Do  good  to  all  as  you  have  opportunity, 

IX.  Speak  evil  of  no  one, 

X.  Carefully  listen  to  conscience,  and  always  obey  its 
commands,        •        .        .        . 

XI.  We  must  forgive  all  injuries  as  we  hope  to  be  forgiven, 

XII.  Learn  to  help  one  another, 

XIII.  The  greatest  conqueror  is  the  self-conqueror, 

XIV.  Swear  not  at  all, 

XV.    Be  faithful  to  every  trust, 

XVI.  Be  neat, 

XVII.  Eight  actions  should  spring  from  right  motives, 
XVIII.  Labor  conquers  all  things, 

XIX.  Be  honest  in  "little  things,"  upright  in  all  things, 

XX.  A  persoil  is  known  by  the  company  lie  keeps, 

XXI.  Learn  to  deny  yourself, 

XXII.  Live  usefully, 

XXIII.  Be  kind  to  the  unfortunate, 

XXIV.  Do  right  and  fear  not, 

XXV.  Be  merciful  to  animals, 

XXVI.  It  is  better  to  suffer"  wrong  than  to  do  wrong,      . 
XXVII.  It  is  more  blessed  to  give  than  to  receive,    . 

XXVIII.  Think  no  thoughts  that  you  would  blush  to  express 
in  words,    ...        ..... 

XXIX.  Live  innocently  if  you  would  live  happily,  . 

XXX.  "VVe  must  learn  to  love  others  as  we  love  o^^^•selves, 

XXXI.  The  good  alone  are  great 


18 

26 
32 
39 
47 
54 
62 
68 

76 
86 
93 
99 
107 
112 
119 
124 
131 
139 
147 
153 
160 
169 
178 
183 
189 
196 


203 
209 
215 


ELEMENTARY  MORAL  LESSONS. 


LESSON   I 


DO  UNTO  OTHERS  AS  YOU  WOULD  HAVE  OTHERS  DO 
TO  YOU. 

NARRATIVE. 

Noble  Conduct. — A  correspondent  of  the  Blair  Coun- 
ty (Pa.)  Whiff,  furnishes  that  paper  with  the  particulars 
of  the  following  interesting  incident,  of  which  he  was  an 
eye  witness.  It  occurred  a  few  years  ago  on  the  line  of 
the  great  internal  improvements  of  that  State.  It  is  one 
of  those  scenes  of  genuine  kind-heartedness  which  till  the 
mind  with  the  involuntary  consciousness  that  there  is 
••something  of  the  angel  still  in  our  common  nature." 

At  the  point  this  side  of  the  mountain,  where  occurred 
the  transhipment  of  passengers  from  the  West,  was  moored 
a  canal  boat,  awaiting  the  arrival  of  the  train  ere  starting 
on  its  way  through  to  the  East.  The  captain  of  the  boat, 
a  tall,  rough,  sun-embrowned  man,  stood  by  his  craft,  su- 
perintending the  labors  of  his  men,  when  the  cars  rolled 
up,  and  a  few  minutes  after  a  party  of  about  half  a  dozen 
gentlemen  came  out,  and  deliberately  walking  up  to  the 
captain,  addressed  him  something  after  this  wise: 

"Sir,  we  wish  to  go  on  east,  but  our  farther  progress 


10  ELEMENTARY    MORAL    LESSONS. 

to-day  depends  oil  you.  In  the  cars  we  have  just  left  a 
sick  man,  whose  presence  is  disagreeable.  We  have  been 
appointed  a  committee  by  the  passengers  to  ask  that  you 
will  deny  this  man  a  passage  in  your  boat.  If  he  goes,  we 
remain;  what  say  you?" 

"Gentlemen,"  replied  the  captain.  ;il  have  heard  the 
passengers  through  their  committee.  Has  the  sick  man 
a  representative  here?" 

To  this  unexpected  interrogatory  there  was  no  answer : 
when,  without  a  moment's  pause,  the  captain  crossed  over 
to  the  car,  and  entering,  beheld  in  one  corner  a  poor, 
emaciated,  worn-out  creature,  whose  life  was  nearly  eaten 
up  by  that  canker-worm,  consumption.  The  man's  head 
was  bowed  in  his  hands,  and  he  was  weeping;  The  cap- 
tain advanced  and  spoke  to  him  kindly. 

"Oh!  sir,"  said  the  shivering  invalid,  looking  up,  his 
face  now  lit  with  trembling  expectations,  "are  you  the 
captain,  and  will  you  take  me?  God  help  me!  The 
passengers  look  upon  me  as  a  breathing  pestilence,  and 
are  so  unkind!  You  see,  sir,  I  am  dying;  but  oh!  if  I 
am  spared  to  reach  my  mother,  I  shall  die  happy.  She 
lives  in  Burlington,  sir,  and  my  journey  is  more  than  half 
performed.  I  am  a  poor  painter,  and  the  only  child  of 
her  in  whose  arms  I  wish  to  die!" 

"You  shall  go,"  replied  the  captain,  "if  I  loose  every 
passenger  for  the  trip." 

By  this  time  the  whole  crowd  of  passengers  were 
grouped  around  the  boat,  with  their  baggage  piled  on  the 
path,  and  they  themselves  awaiting  the  decision  of  the 
captain  before  engaging  their  passage. 

A  moment  more  and  that  decision  was  made  known. 
as  they  beheld  him  coming  from  the  cars  with  the  sick 
man  cradled  in   his  arms.      Pushing  direct! a-  through  the 


DUTY    TO    OTHERS.  1  J 

crowd  with  his  dying  burden,  he  ordered  a  mattrass  to  be 
spread  in  the  choicest  part  of  the  boat,  where  he  laid  tin1 
invalid  with  all  the  care  of  a  parent.  That  done,  the  cap- 
tain directed  the  boat  to  be  prepared  for  starting. 

But  a  new  feeling  seemed  to  possess  the  astonished 
passengers — that  of  shame  and  contrition  at  their  inhu- 
manity. With  one  common  impulse  they  walked  aboan  I 
the  boat,  and  in  a  few  hours  after  another  committee  was 
sent  to  the  captain,  entreating  his  presence  among  the 
passengers  in  the  cabin. 

He  went,  and  from  their  midst  there  arose  a  white- 
haired  man,  who  with  tear-drops  starting  in  his  eyes,  told 
that  rough,  sun-embrowned  man  that  he  had  taught  them 
a  lesson,  that  they  felt  humbled  before  him,  and  the) 
asked  his  forgiveness.  It  was  a  touching  scene.  The 
fountain  of  true  sympathy  was  broken  up  in  the  heart  of 
nature,  and  its  waters  welled  up  choking  the  utterance  of 
all  present. 

On  the  instant  a  purse  was  made  up  for  the  sick  man, 
with  a  "God  speed"  on  his  way  home,  to  die  in  the  arms 
of  his  mother. 

QUESTIONS    FOR    ILLUSTRATION. 

1.  If  you  never  do  any  body  any  harm,  do  you  think 
you  will  ever  deserve  any  blame? 

2.  But  is  it  not  as  much  our  duty  to  do  some  real  good 
to  others  as  it  is  to  refrain  from  doing  them  evil  ? 

o.  If  you  should  see  a  little  child  fall  into  deep  water, 
and  be  in  danger  of  being  drowned,  would  you  be  deserv- 
ing of  blame  if  you  did  not  try  to  save  it? 

4.  If  you  were  to  see  a  man's  house  taking  tire,  would 


1:2  ELEMENTARY    MORAL    LESSONS. 

you  be  excusable  if  you  did  not  try  to  put  it  out  yourself* 

or  notify  others  of  the  danger? 

5  Then  when  we  see  any  class  of  unfortunate  persons 
around  us,  are  we  free  from  all  blame  if  we  do  not  care 
tor  them  or  try  to  aid  them  .' 

(>.  But  instead  of  caring  lor  such,  what  would  you  think 
of  the  practice  of  making  sport  of  the  ignorant,  or  of  the 
lame  or  the  blind  '. 

7.  In  the  case  of  any  ch  •  of  unfortunate  persons,  with 
how  much  less  tenderness  and  attention  may  you  treat  a 
stranger  or  an  enemy,  than  you  might  treat  a  brother  or  a 
sister  in  the  same  circumstances. 

8.  In  the  foregoing  narrative,  do  you  think  the  captain 
acted  wisely  in  deciding  that  the  sick  man  should  go.  "if 
lie  lost  every  passenger  by  the  trip?" 

0.  But  possibly  the  captain  himself  was  a  poor  man,  in 
need  of  all  the  money  he  could  make  by  the  trip  to  pay 
his  necessary  expenses,  and  possibly,  too.  in  debt  for  the 
boat  he  was  then  running.  Under  such  circumstances, 
what  would  you  advise  a  captain  to  do,  if  passengers  re- 
fused to  ride  with  him  if  he  carried  a  sick  man  ? 

1 0.  Suppose  the  captain,  instead  of  taking  the  sick  man 
in  his  arms  and  placing  him  in  the  best  part  of  his  own 
boat,  had  gone  to  the  cars  and  given  him  ten  dollars  to  pay 
his  passage  in  the  next  boat,  and  then  taken  the  passengers 
and  made  two  hundred  and  fifty  dollars  by  the  trip;  would 
you  think  as  well  of  such  a  course  as  the  one  the  captain 
did  pursue'? 

11.  If  you  had   been  the  captain  of  the  boat,  and  the 


DUTY    TO    OTHERS.  13 

sick  mail  in  the  cars  had  been  your  own  brother,  would 
you  have  felt  that  you  had  dope  your  duty  if  you  had 
handed  him  twenty  dollars  to  pay  his  expenses  home  on 
the  next  boat,  while  you  were  making  two  hundred  dollars 
in  carrying  a  boat  load  of  passengers  who  refused  to  ride 
in  the  same  boat  with  him  I 

12.  Perhaps  there  were  some  among  the  passengers 
who  did  not  have  much  to  say  for  the  sick  man  or  against 
him,  being  ready  simply  to  agree  with  the  majority. — 
Would  such,  if  there  were  any.  deserve  much  blame? 

13.  If  fifty  persons,  some  rich  and  some  poor,  some  old 
and  some  young,  were  standing  near,  where  a  person  was 
suffering  from  cold,  or  sickness,  or  hunger  or  accident, 
whose  duty  would  it  be  to  help  such  a  sufferer'? 

L3.  What  "golden  rule"  of  conduct  should  persons 
observe,  in  order  to  determine  how  much  atttention  and 
kindness  should  be  shown  to  a  suffering  stranger? 

15.  May  any  class  of  persons,  either  on  account  of 
their  superior  advantages,  or  on  account  of  their  poverty 
or  misfortune,  be  excused  from  the  practice  of  the  rule — 
■;do  unto  others  as  you  would  have  others  do  to  you?:" 
Are  children  under  obligation  to  practice  this  rule? 

16.  Children  sometimes  meet  with  those  who  have  had 
less  advantages  for  instruction,  for  a  pleasant  home  and 
kind  friends  than  they  themselves  have  had;  what  sort  of 
treatment  would  you  think  due  from  such  children  to 
those  less  fortunate? 

NARRATIVE. 

Poor  Boy! — We  said  this  on  Sunday  evening  as  we 
came  down  Broadway.     We  have  said  it  twenty  times 


J  4  ELEMENTARY    MORAL    LESSONS. 

since  that,  aloud,  and  live  times  twenty  mentally,  we  have 
repeated  those  two  words,  "Poor  Boy!"  They  are  little 
words,  common  words,  only  seven  letters,  easily  spoken, 
often  spoken,  yet  they  have  a  great  deal  of  meaning — 
painful  meaning  sometimes.  They  had  on  Sunday  night. 
They  often  tell  a  whole  story.  They  did  in  the  present 
case.     This  is  it. 

Our  ear  was  first  attracted  by  a  little  hum  of  voices, 
voices  of  boys,  singing  a  march :  it  was  the  Rogue's  March. 
What  could  it  be  for'?  We  looked  and  listened.  Half  a 
dozen  boys  with  sticks,  imitating  those  children  who  carry 
guns — one  had  tied  his  handkerchief  to  imitate  a  flag — 
were  singing  and  marching  behind  another  boy.  He  was 
about  twelve  years  old  and  carried  a  bundle  in  his  hand, 
tied  in  a  common  cotton  handkerchief,  such  as  we  carried 
when  about  the  same  age.  His  dress  said,  just  as  plain  as 
his  language,  "I  am  just  from  the  country. "  His  tormen- 
tors, for  such  they  were,  were  in  high  glee.  Their  glee 
made  us  sad,  and  we  said,  "Poor  Boy! "  and  walked  away. 
We  could  not  go  on,  and  so  we  went  back.  The  poor 
boy  had  stopped  to  remonstrate  with  his  persecutors. 

"What  do  you  want  to  follow  me  singing  that  ar  for ? 
I  wish  you  would  let  me  alone.  I  hain't  done  nothing  to 
you. " 

"Ain't  that  rich,  boys?     Hurrah  for  greeny ! " 

We  cried  "poor  boy ! "  again,  and  then  we  told  the  boys 
they  should  not  torment  the  poor  boy,  and  asked  "what 
they  did  it  for1?"  "'Cause  he  has  no  spunk.  Why  don't 
he  show  fight.  He's  a  greeny."  Yes,  he  was  green. 
That  was  enough  for  the  city  boys,  well-dressed  boys  of 
parents  whom  no  one  would  dare  to  say  were  not  "respect- 
able." Could  they  say  themselves,  that  it  was  respect- 
able to  let  their  boys  run  in  the  streets  on  the  Sabbath, 
singing  and  marching  like  wild  young  savages,  after  a  poor- 


DUTY    TO    OTHERS.  15 

boy  from  the  country,  whose  only  fault  was  that  he  had 
not  yet  learned  to  be  as  wicked  as  themselves — he  was 
green — he  would  not  fight.  He  did  not  look  like  a  fight- 
ing boy ;  his  face  was  a  mild  pleasant  one ;  rather  pensive, 
and  he  had  a  soft  blue  eye.  But  he  was  green.  He  had 
been  green  enough  to  sit  down  upon  a  door  step  to  rest 
his  tired  limbs,  and  that  was  enough  to  draw  a  crowd  of 
idle  boys  around  him  with  their  jibes  and  jeers,  and  insult- 
ing and  provoking  remarks  upon  his  appearance,  his 
homespun  coat,  and  unfashionably  cut  garments,  and  when 
he  replied  and  told  them  to  go  away  and  let  him  alone, 
they  set  up  a  shout  of  derision  at  his  countryfied  lan- 
guage. Then  he  got  up  and  thought  he  would  walk  away, 
and  so  get  clear  of  them,  but  he  could  not  shake  them  off. 
Poor  boy !  he  had  left  his  country  home  among  the  moun- 
tains of  Northern  New  York,  to  seek  his  fortune  in  the 
city,  and  this  was  the  first  fortune  he  had  met  with,  it 
was  an  unkindly  welcome.  We  drew  him  aside  and 
questioned  him  why  he  had  come  to  the  city.  "I  came 
because  I  had  read  so  much  in  the  newspapers  about  the 
prosperity  of  the  city,  and  how  every  body  gets  great 
wages  and  money  right  down  every  week ;  and  I  thought 
that  was  a  good  place  for  me,  as  I  was  poor,  and  my  moth- 
er was  poor,  and  I  wanted  to  try  and  do  something  to  get 
a  home  for  her  and  me  too.  Now  I  have  got  here,  I  don't 
know  what  to  do,  or  where  to  stay  all  night,  I  have  been 
walking  all  through  town  till  I  am  dreadful  tired,  and  I 
have  not  seen  a  single  tavern  sign.  Can  you  tell  me 
where  to  find  one?"  We  told  him  where  to  go  to  find  a 
plain  lodging  place,  and  advised  him  to  turn  his  face  north- 
ward in  the  morning.  Go  back  to  the  country ;  poor  boy. 
he  is  green  in  the  city,  and  not  disposed  to  fight  his  way 
through  life,  so  he  must  go  back  to  the  country.  He  al- 
ways will  be  a  poor  boy  here .  Sew  York  Paper. 


16  ELEMENTARY    MORAL    LESSONS. 

17.  If  the  city  boys,  spoken  of  in  the  preceeding  nar- 
rative, had  tried  anxiously  to  observe  the  golden  rule  with 
the  boy  who  came  from  the  country,  what  would  they 
have  said  and  done  instead  of  singing  the  "  Rogue's  March  " 
around  him? 

18.  If  they  had  all  united  in  speaking  kindly  to  this 
country  boy,  and  assisted  him  in  finding  a  comfortable 
home  for  the  night,  and  had  further  assisted  him  in  look- 
ing for  employment  on  the  following  day;  do  you  think 
the  pleasure  would  have  been  "as  rich'''  as  that  of  shout- 
ing '■''hurrah  for  greeny?'' 

19.  Which  of  the  two  courses  of  conduct  do  you  think 
could  be  longer  remembered  with  the  highest  satisfaction  ? 

20.  Whose  conduct  do  you  think  deserving  the  severer 
censure,  that  of  the  men  who  neglected  and  insulted  the 
sick  man  in  the  cars,  or  the  boys  who  insulted  and  tor- 
mented the  poor  boy  from  the  country  ? 

21.  Whose  conduct  do  you  think  deserving  the  greater 
credit,  that  of  the  captain  of  the  boat,  or  that  of  the  man 
who  befriended  the  poor  boy  in  the  city. 


VARIED   APPLICATION  OF   RIGHT  PRINCIPLES. 


QUESTIONS  FOR  SPECIAL  AND  GENERAL  REVIEW. 

1.  Suppose  that,  in  passing  through  your  neighbor's 
gate,  you  should  accidentally  break  the  latch,  or  the  hing- 
es, and  no  one  should  see  you.  what  ought  you  to  do  in 
such  a  case? 

*2.   If  you  had  borrowed  your  neighbor's  wheelbarrow. 


DUTY    TO    OTHERS.  17 

and,  ill  using  it,  should  break  it  hi  a  place  which  would 
not  be  easily  seen,  what  should  you  think  right  to  be  done? 

3.  If,  in  passing  through  your  neighbor's  field  or  garden 
alone,  you  should  carelessly  leave  his  gate  open,  and  cat- 
tle or  hogs  should  come  in  and  destroy  his  corn,  or  his 
garden,  what  would  you  think  it  your  duty  to  do,  suppo- 
sing that  no  one  but  yourself  knew  how  the  gate  happened 
to  lie  left  open  \ 

4.  If  you  should  tell  your  companions  that  you  were 
very  sure  a  certain  boy  had  stolen  your  silver  pencil,  and 
afterwards  you  should  find,  that  it  had  not  been  stolen  at 
all,  what  ought  you  to  do? 

5.  If  you  thought:  any  one  of  your  associates  was  neg- 
lected or  abused,  because  he  or  she  was  not  quite  so  well 
appearing,  every  way,  as  others,  how  ought  you  to  act? 

<j.  Our  brothers,  or  sisters,  or  friends,  are  sometimes 
helpless  and  dependent  from  sickness  or  accident,  and 
sometimes  so  for  life;  what  rule  of  conduct  should  we 
always  observe  towards  such  relatives  or  friends? 

7.  If  a  younger  brother  was  not  in  good  health,  and 
you  knew  that  fruit  would  endanger  his  health  or  his  life, 
would  it  be  right  to  give  him  fruit  if  he  should  ask  it  of 
you  ? 

>.  Suppose  your  brother  should  offer  to  pay  you  very 
liberally  if  you  would  let  him  have  fruit,  would  it  be  right 
to  sell  it  to  him.  if  you  felt  sure  that  it  would  injure  his 
health? 

9.  Instead  of  being  your  brother,  suppose  that  one  of 
your  associates  was  in  the  same  circumstances,  would 


18  ELEMENTARY    MORAL    LESSONS. 

it  be  right  to  give  or  sell  him  fruit  if  you  felt  certain  that 
it  would  endanger  his  health  or  his  life? 

10.  Instead  of  being  an  associate,  suppose  a  stranger  or 
an  enemy  to  be  in  the  same  circumstances,  what  would 
you  think  it  your  duty  to  do? 

11.  When  you  feel  at  a  loss  in  any  maimer  to  know 
how  you  ought  to  treat  others,  what  rule  will  always  aid 
you  to  determine? 


LESSON  II. 


REPAY  ALL  INJURIES  WITH  KINDNESS. 
NARRATIVE. 

The  Power  of  Love. — The  Colony  of  Petit .bourg.  in 
France,  is  an  establishment  for  the  reformation  of  juve- 
nile  offenders — for  instruction  of  abandoned  children  (boys) 
who  are  found  without  any  parental  care,  wandering  about 
the  streets  of  Paris.  It  is  supported  by  voluntary  con- 
tributions. The  boys  are  taught  all  sorts  of  out-door  and 
in-door  work,  and  have  regular  seasons  of  recreation. 
When  any  one  commits  a  fault  requiring  grave  punish- 
ment, the  whole  of  the  boys  are  assembled,  as  a  sort  of 
council  to  deliberate  and  decide  on  the  kind  of  punish- 
ment to  be  inflicted,  which  consists  usually  of  imprison- 
ment in  a  dungeon  for  a  number  of  days,  and  of  course 
no  participation  in  the  recreations  of  the  community. 

There  are  at  present  about  1 30  boys  in  the  institution. 
Now,  here  is  the  peculiarity  of  discipline.  After  sen- 
tence is  passed  by  the  boys  under  the  approval  of  the  di- 


HEPAV    ALL    INJURIES    WITH    KINDNESS.  19 

rector,  the  question  is  then  put.  "  Will  any  of  you  consent 
to  become  the  patron  of  this  offender,  that  is,  to  take  his 
place  now  and  suffer  in  his  room  and  stead,  while  he  goes 
free?''  And  it  rarely  happens  but  that  some  one  is  found 
ready  to  step  forward  to  consent  to  ransom  the  offender. 
by  undergoing  his  punishment  for  him — the  offender  being 
in  that  case  merely  obliged  to  act  as  porter  in  carrying 
to  his  substitute  in  the  dungeon  his  allowance  of  bread 
and  water,  during  all  the  time  of  his  captivity.  The  effect 
has  been  the  breaking  of  the  most  obdurate  hearts  of  the 
boys,  by  seeing  another  actually  enduring,  willingly,  what 
they  have  deserved  to  suffer. 

A  remarkable  case  occurred  lately.  A  boy  whose  vi- 
olent temper  and  bad  conduct  had  procured  his  expulsion 
from  several  schools  in  Paris,  and  was  in  a  fair  way  of 
becoming  an  outlaw  and  terror  to  all  good  people,  was 
received  into  the  institution.  For  a  time  the  novelty  of 
the  scene,  the  society,  the  occupation,  &c,  seemed  to  have 
subdued  his  temper;  but  at  length  his  evil  disposition 
showed  itself,  through  his  drawing  a  knife  on  a  boy  with 
whom  he  had  quarrelled,  and  stabbing  him  in  the  breast. 
The  wound  was  severe  but  not  mortal;  and  while  the 
bleeding  boy  was  carried  to  the  hospital,  the  rest  of  the 
inmates  were  summoned  to  decide  on  the  fate  of  the  crim- 
inal. They  agreed  at  once  in  a  sentence  of  instant  ex- 
pulsion, without  hope  of  re-admission.  The  director  op- 
posed this,  and  showed  them  that  such  a  course  would 
lead  this  poor  desperate  boy  to  the  scaffold  and  the  galleys. 
He  bade  them  think  of  another  punishment.  They  fixed 
upon  imprisonment  for  an  unlimited  period.  The  usual 
question  was  put,  but  no  patron  offered  himself,  and  the 
culprit  was  marched  off  to  prison. 

After  some  days,  the  director  reminded  the  boys  of  the 


*20  ELEMENTARY    MORAL    LESSONS. 

case,  and  on  a  repetition  of  the  call,  "  Will  no  one  become 
the  patron  of  this  unhappy  youth'?"  a  voice  was  heard. 
"I  will!"  The  astonished  boys  looked  around  and  saw 
coming  forward  the  very  youth  that  had  been  wounded, 
and  who  had  just  been  discharged  from  the  sick  ward. 
Me  went  to  the  dungeon  and  took  the  place  of  the  would- 
be  murderer,  (for  had  this  boy's  physical  strength  been 
equal  to  his  passion,  the  blow  must  have  been  fatal,  both 
boys  being  only  about  nine  or  ten  years  old.)  and  it  was 
only  after  the  latter  had  for  some  time  carried  the  pittance 
of  food  to  his  generous  patr«  :i.  and  seen  him  still  pale  and 
feeble  from  the  effects  of  his  wound,  suffering  for  him  de- 
privation of  light,  and  liberty,  and  joy,  that  his  stout  heart 
gave  up,  and  he  cast  himself  at  the  feet  of  the  director,  con- 
fessing and  bewailing,  with  bitter  tears,  the  wickedness  of 
his  heart,  and  expressing  the  resolution  to  lead  a  different 
life  for  the  time  to  come.     Such  a  fact  needs  no  comment. 


QUESTIONS  FOR  ILLUSTRATION. 

I-  Have  you  ever  heard  of  persons,  or  children  who 
sought  to  injure  those  who  had  injured  them  ? 

2.  Is  there  any  better  course  for  us  to  pursue,  when  oth- 
ers do  us  an  injury,  than  to  do  them  just  as  great  an  injury, 
if  we  can?     What  is  it? 

3.  If  others  do  wrong  to  us,  would  it  be  right  for  us  t«> 
simply  let  such  persons  alone? 

4.  But,  in  simply  letting  them  alone,  would  this  show 
that  we  loved  them  ? 

">.  Which  would  you  think  the  more  certain  way  to 


REPAY  ALL  INJURIES  WITH  KINDNESS.  %l 

make  your  enemy  become  your  friend,  to  do  him  an  inju- 
ry, or  a  kindness? 

(>.  How  many  injuries  do  you  think  it  would  be  neces- 
sary to  do  to  an  enemy,  to  make  him  your  friend? 

7.  How  many  kindnesses  do  you  think  it  would  re- 
quire to  make  your  enemy  respect  and  love  you? 

8.  Which  do  you  think  would  give  you  the  more  pleas- 
ure, to  conquer  yourself,  and  your  enemy  too,  by  doing 
him  kindnesses,  or,  to  conquer  neither  yourself  nor  your 
enemy,  by  doing  him  injuries? 

!>.  Is  it  common  for  us  to  do  good  to  those  who  do  evil 
tons?     is  it  easy  for  us?      Is  it  possible  for  us.' 

10.  In  the  narrative  just  given,  what  particular  course 
of  conduct  conquered  the  boy  who  had  stabbed  his  com- 
panion? 

11.  If  the  remaining  buys,  when  they  saw  that  their 
companion  had  been  severely  wounded,  had  all  joined  and 
chastised  this  reckless  boy  severely,  is  it  probable  that 
they  would  have  made  a  kind-hearted,  honest  boy  of  him  ? 

12.  Do  you  think  the  boy  who  was  stabbed  showed  a 
truly  courageous  spirit  in  offering  to  take  the  place  of  his 
companion  in  prison? 

13.  Is  it  probable  that  the  director  of  the  institution 
and  the  companions  of  the  boy  who  was  stabbed,  would 
feel  ashamed  of  him  for  offering  to  take  the  place  of  tin- 
one  who  had  so  deeply  injured  him  ? 

14.  If  one  of  your  intimate  friends  should  be  very  much 


22 


ELEMENTARY    MORAL    LESSONS. 


abused,  would  you  feel  ashamed  of  him.  if  he  should  try 
to  conquer  his  enemy,  by  pleasant  words  and  kind  ac- 
tions? Would  you  respect  and  honor  him,  if  he  under- 
took to  conquer  him  by  fighting,  or  by  seeking  to  do  hin  i 
injuries? 

15.  Are  there  any  persons  so  bad  that  they  cannot  be 
conquered  by  kindness? 

16.  It1  conquering  by  kindness  is  the  most  successful 
method,  why  do  not  persons  always  practice  this  plan  of 
conquering  enemies? 

IT.  In  the  narrative  given,  which  boy  do  you  think  was 
the  happier,  the  one  who  conquered  by  kindness,  or  the 
one  who  w^as  conquered? 


NARRATIVE. 

A  Merchant's  Revenge. — Making  haste  to  get  rich 
leads  the  young  man  to  violate  the  golden  rule,  and 
wounds  his  conscience.  An  illustration  of  this  occurred 
some  years  since  in  one  of  the  American  cities.  A.  built 
a  very  extensive  warehouse  on  his  lot.  and  after  it  was 
completed,  B..  the  next  neighbor,  discovered  that  it  was 
a  couple  or  three  inches  on  his  lot.  A  surveyor  was  sent 
for,  and  A.  discovered  his  mistake,  and  freely  offered  B. 
a  large  sum,  if  he  would  permit  him  to  remain.  B.  knew 
that  he  had  his  wealthy  neighbor  in  his  power,  therefore 
he  seemed  unwilling  to  sell  the  narrow  gore  for  twenty 
times  the  value  of  the  land.  He  only  waited  for  a  lar- 
ger bribe  to  be  offered,  believing  that  before  A.  would 
j)iill  down  his  warehouse,  he  would  pay  half  its  value. — 
But  A.  finding  that  B.  was  determined  to  be  satisfied  with 


REPAY    ALL    INJURIES    WITH    KINDNESS.  23 

nothing  but  extortion,  began  to  pull  down  his  noble  build- 
ing. Then  he  might  have  settled  on  his  own  terms,  but 
he  had  no  offer  to  make.  The  last  foundation  stone  was 
removed.  In  order  to  avenge  himself.  A.  ordered  his 
builder  to  run  up  the  new  edifice  a  couple  of  inches  with- 
in his  own  line,  and  it  was  done ;  and  the  noble  building 
again  was  completed.  A  short  time  afterwards,  B.  com- 
menced the  erection  of  his  splendid  warehouse,  directly 
against  his  neighbors,  and,  of  course,  two  inches  over  on 
the  lot  of  A.  The  trap  laid,  succeeded  as  he  expected; 
and  after  B.'s  building  was  completed,  and  his  friends 
were  congratulating  him  on  his  noble  warehouse,  A.  steps 
up  and  informs  B.  that  Ins  edifice  encroaches  on  his  land. 
B.  laughs  at  the  thought,  for  amid  the  rubbish  and  deep 
foundation,  a  couple  of  inches  cannot  be  detected  by  the 
naked  eye. 

A  surveyor  was  sent  for,  and  conceive  the  blank  as- 
tonishment that  filled  the  mind  of  B.  when  he  found  him- 
self at  the  mercy  of  one  he  had  so  deeply  wronged. — 
Then  would  have  been  the  time  for  A.  to  have  shown  the 
sordid  B.  what  a  magnanimous  heart  could  do!  How 
much  better  and  nobler,  and  happier  to  pass  by  an  insult ! 
It  is  the  glory  of  the  Christian  to  be  able,  willing,  and  re- 
joice to  forgive  an  enemy.  But  A.  was  actuated  by 
simple  revenge,  and  that  neighbor  could  name  no  sum  at 
which  he  would  even  look.  He  offered  him  half  the  cost 
of  the  edifice,  if  he  would  suffer  him  to  let  it  stand.  No ; 
he  must  pull  it  down,  and  down  it  came  to  the  very  foun- 
dation. This  neighbor,  placing  the  stone  within  his  own 
line,  and  thus  setting  a  .snare,  was  as  certainly  guilty  of 
falsehood  as  Annanias  and  Sapphira,  although  he  had  not 
said  a  word.  For  B.  to  take  advantage  of  the  unintention- 
al mistake  of  his  neighbor,  and  then  endeavor  to  extort 


24  ELEMENTARY    MORAL    LESSONS. 

some  thousands  of  dollars  from  him,  was  nothing  but  at- 
tempting a  wholesale  robbery.  It  is  but  the  same  thing 
in  retail  robbery,  which  prompts  one  to  take  advantage 
of  the  ignorant  neighbor,  or  that  neighbor's  servant  or 

OniKI .  Mercantile  Morals. 


18.  In  the  last  narrative,  what  greater  victory  could 
merchant  A.  have  obtained  over  merchant  B.  than  he  did? 

19.  Did  merchant  A.  make  merchant  B.  his  warm 
friend  by  the  course  he  pursued  ? 

20.  Would  merchant  B.  probably  have  taken  another 
advantage  of  merchant  A.  if  he  had  seen  a.  good  oppor- 
tunity 1 

21.  Then,  did  merchant  A.  really  conquer  B.  ? 

22.  Did  merchant  A.  conquer  himself' 

23.  Whose  conduct  do  you  the  more  admire,  that  of 
the  poor  boy  who  was  stabbed,  or  that  of  the  rich  mer- 
chant A.  who  was  first  so  much  wronged  by  his  neighbor, 
but  who  wronged  him  as  much  in  return  1 


VARIED  APPLICATION  OF  RIGHT  PRINCIPLES. 
QUESTIONS    FOR.    SPECIAL  AND  GENERAL  REVIEW. 

1.  Suppose  some  one  has  wronged  you  very  much,  and 
for  this  you  have  three  times  done  him  a  kindness,  and  he 
remains  your  enemy  still.  Ought  you  to  try  any  more 
to  make  him  your  friend  ?  How  many  times  do  you  think 
yon  ought  to  try? 


REPAY    ALL    INJURIES    WITH    KINDNESS.  25 

'2.  How  many  times  do  you  think  you  would  try  with 
a  brother  or  sister,  or  any  one  that  you  loved  very  much? 

3.  Suppose,  in  going  home  from  school  to-night,  some 
boy  should  seize  your  hat  or  cap  and,  intentionally,  throw 
it  into  the  muddy  water  or  mud,  how  do  you  think  you 
would  act? 

4.  Suppose  several  boys  should  unite  in  calling  you  re- 
proachful names  for  the  purpose  of  irritating  you?  Plow 
do  you  think  you  would  act .' 

5.  Do  you  think  of  any  kindnesses  that  could  be  prac- 
ticed upon  such  boys,  that  would  make  them  ashamed  and 

sorry  for  their  conduct? 

(k  It"  you  were  to  assist  any,  or  each  of  them,  the  next 
day  in  their  work  or  their  sports,  or  to  give  them  some 
fruit,  or  were  to  invite  them  to  visit  you,  and  should  be 
very  careful  to  show  them  all  the  little  attentions  in  your 
power,  do  you  think  they  would  long  abuse  you.' 

7.  If  you  should,  by  trying  every  means  you  could 
think  of,  at  last  succeed  in  conquering  such  boys  by  your 
kindnesses,  which  do  you  think  would  be  most  benefitted. 
yourself  or  the  boys? 

s.  Would  it  be  right  to  do  an  enemy  a  kindness,  simply 
for  the  purpose  of  gaining  a  triumph,  and  with  no  real 
desire  of  conferring  a  benefit  upon  him? 

9.  ff  those  who  are  unfriendly  or  unkind  to  us  are  un- 
fortunate in  any  manner,  would  it  be  right  to  rejoice  at 
their  misfortunes  \ 

10.  In  case  those  who  are  unfriendly  to  us  seem  to  have 

4 


&6  ELEMENTARY    MORAL    LESSONS. 

no  power,  whatever,  to  injure  us,  may  we  feel  quite  indil- 
ferent  whether  we  gain  their  friendship  or  not  by  showing 
them  attention  and  kindness? 


LESSON    III. 


A    LITTLE    WRONG    DONE   TO    ANOTHER    IS    A  GREAT 
WRONG  DONE  TO  OURSELVES. 

NARRATIVE. 

■■  Deep  Wounds.5'— When  I  was  about  twelve  years  of 
age — 1  remember  it  as  though  it  were  but  yesterday — I 
one  day  got  very  angry  with  an  older  brother.  1  was  an- 
gry, too,  ''without  a  cause."'  He  had  been  the  best  of 
brothers  to  me;  but  on  this  occasion  he  had  refused  to 
gratify  my  strong  desire  to  have  for  my  own  a  little  book 
which  I  had  seen  him  reading.  1  flew  into  a  violent  pas- 
sion. I  called  him  very  bad  names;  and,  although  I  can 
scarcely  believe  it.  and  only  recollect  it  with  grief  and 
shame,  1  tore  his  clothes  and  tried  to  bite  his  arms. 

In  a  few  weeks,  and  before  my  proud  spirit  was  hum  hie 
enough  to  ask  his  forgiveness,  that  brother  left  home  nev- 
er again  to  return,  lie  went  tar  away  among  strangers 
to  sicken  and  die.  I  never  saw'  him  again.  Oh!  how  of- 
ten have  I  wished  that  I  might  have  been  permitted  to 
stand  by  that  brother's  death-bed  and  ask  pardon  for  my 
foolish  passion.  Useless  wish!  Unavailing  regret! — 
Even  now.  at  this  distance  of  time,  whenever  1  recall  the 
memory  of  that  brother,  and  think  of  his  kindness  and 
love,  the  cup  of  pleasure  is  embittered  by  the  dregs  of 


IN  INJURING  OTHERS,  WE  INJURE  OURSELVES.  'I  i 

remorse  which  the  remembrance  of  that  angry  hour 
throws  upon  it.  Alas!  the  pangs  of  remorse  gnawing 
my  own  spirit  even  now  are  far  sharper  than  the  teeth 
with  which  I  would  gladly  have  lacerated  my  brother's 
flesh.  When  I  see  that  brother  in  my  dreams,  he  wears 
that  same  look  of  astonishment  and  rebuke  with  which 
he  then  looked  upon  me. 

"A  wounded  spirit  who  can  bear1?"  (>!  if  children 
and  youth  who  speak  angry  words  to  their  parents,  and 
call  their  brothers  hard  names,  only  knew  what  a  1  earful 
burden  of  '-wounded  spirits"  they  arc  storing  up,  to  press 
with  mountain  weight  upon  them  in  riper  years,  they 
never  would  suffer  an  unkind  or  disrespectful  word  to 
pass  their  lips. 


QUESTIONS  FOR   ILLUSTRATION. 

1.  If  a  puoi-  boy  were  t<>  steal  ten  cents  from  a  rich 
merchant's  drawer,  which  would  be  the  greater  sufferer, 
the  boy  or  the  merchant '. 

•2.  In  what  respect  would  the  merchant  be  the  sufferer1? 
In  what  respect  would  the  boy  be  the  sufferer?  Whose 
sufferino-  would  last  the  longest  ? 

3.  if,  in  anger,  you  should  strike  one  of  your  compan- 
ions a  blow  that  should  cause  pain  for  two  hours,  but 
should  produce  no  further  inconvenience,  which  would  be 
the  greater  sufferer,  yourself  or  your  companion  ? 

4.  In  what  manner  would  your  companion  be  the  suf- 
ferer in  such  a  case  I     In  what  manner  would  you  be  the 

sufferer?     How  long  would  the  recollection  of  the  blow 
cause  you  pain? 


*2<s  ELEMENTARY    MORAL    LESSON*. 

5.  In  the  narrative  just  given,  did  the  boy  who  was 
angry,  do  any  severe  bodily  injury  to  his  brother? 

(>.  Why  did  he  feel  so  badly  for  so  long  a  time? 

7.  If  the  younger  brother  had  received  the  ill  treatment 
from  his  elder  brother,  instead  of  giving  it,  before  the 
elder  brother  left  home  for  the  last  time,  do  you  think  he 
would  have  experienced  so  much  sorrow  and  anguish  du- 
ring the  remainder  of  his  life? 

8.  Which  of  the  two  bro'  hers  was  probably  the  greater 
sufferer  during  the  remainder  of  their  lives  for  this  one 
wrong  act  of  the  younger  brother? 

9.  But,  suppose  the  younger  brother  had  really  been 
penitent  and  received  forgiveness  from  the  elder  brother, 
before  he  finally  left  home,  would  he  have  been  able,  at 
any  time,  after,  to  think  of  his  anger  with  pleasure? 


ANOTHER    EXAMPLE. 

Sir  Walter  Scott  related  the  following  incident  of  his 
own  life  to  an  intimate  friend: 

There  was  a  boy  in  his  class  at  school,  who  always 
stood  at  the  top,  nor  could  the  utmost  efforts  of  young 
Scott  displace  him.  At  length  he  observed,  when  a 
question  was  asked  this  boy,  he  always  fumbled  with  his 
lingers  at  a  particular  button  on  the  lower  part  of  his 
waistcoat;  and  the  removal  of  this  was,  therefore,  deter- 
mined. The  plot  was  executed,  and  succeeded  too  well. 
When  the  boy  was  again  questioned,  his  lingers  sought 
again  for  the  button,  but  it  could  not  be  found.  In  his 
distress  he  looked  down  for  it,  but  it  was  not  to  be  seen. 
He  stood  confounded,  and  Scott  took  possession  of  his 


IN  INJURING  OTHERS,  WE  INJURE  OURSELVES.  25) 

place,  which  he  never  recovered.  The  wrong  thus  done, 
was,  however,  attended,  as  it  always  must  be,  with  pain. 
"Often,"  said  Scott,  "in  after  life,  the  sight  of  him  smote 
me."  Heartily  did  he  wish  that  this  unkind  act  had  never 
been  done. 

Let  it  constantly  be  remembered,  that  we  are  not- 
left  to  act  as  we  please; — the  rule  is  of  the  highest  au- 
thority: "Whatsoever  ye  would  that  men  should  do  to 
you,  do  ye  even  so  to  them." 

10.  In  the  case  of  Sir  Walter  Scott,  just  related,  which 
probably  was  the  greater  sufferer,  the  boy  who  lost  his 
position  at  the  head  of  his  class,  or  Sir  Walter  who 
gained  it? 

11.  Why  did  the  sight  of  the  boy,  ever  in  after  life. 
give  Sir  Walter  Scott  so  much  pain  1 

12.  How  long  will  one  wrong  act  cause  us  pain  and 
sorrow? 

13.  If  we  have  sought  and  obtained  forgiveness  for  our 
unkind  acts,  and  also  made  all  the  restitution  in  our  pow- 
er to  those  we  have  wronged,  shall  we  any  longer  feel  the 
consequences  of  our  wrong  deeds? 


NARRATIVE. 

Nails  in  the  Post. — There  was  once  a  farmer  who 
had  a  son  named  John,  a  boy  very  apt  to  be  thoughtless, 
and  careless  as'  to  doing  what  he  was  told  to  do. 

One  day  his  father  said  to  him,  "John  you  are  so  care- 
less and  forgetful,  that  every  time  you  do  wrong,  I  shall 
drive  a  nail  into  this  post,  to  remind  you  how  often  you 


30  ELEMENTARY    MORAL    LESSONS. 

are  naughty;  and  every  time  you  do  right  I  will  draw 
one  out."  His  father  did  as  he  said  he  would,  and  e\  evy 
day  he  had  one,  and  sometimes  a  great  many  nails  to 
drive  in,  but  very  seldom  one  to  draw  out. 

At  last  John  saAv  that  the  post  wras  quite  covered  with 
nails,  and  he  began  to  be  ashamed  of  having  so  many 
faults;  so  he  resolved  to  be  a  better  boy,  and  the  next 
day  he  was  so  good  and  industrious  that  several  nails 
came  out;  the  day  after  it  wras  the  same  thing,  and  so  on 
for  a  long  time,  till  at  length  it  came  to  the  last  nail. 
His  father  then  called  him  and  said,  "Look,  John,  here  is 
the  very  last  nail,  and  now  Fin  going  to  draw  this:  arc 
you  not  glad?" 

John  looked  at  the  post,  and  then,  instead  of  express- 
ing his  joy,  as  his  father  expected,  he  burst  into  tears. 
w'Why,"  said  the  father,  "what's  the  matter?  1  should 
think  you  would  be  delighted;  the  nails  are  all  gone." 
"Yes,"  sobbed  John,  "the  nails  are  gone,  but  the  scars 
are  there  yet." 

So  it  is,  dear  children,  with  your  faults  and  bad  hab- 
its; you  may  overcome  them,  you  may  by  degrees  cure 
them,  but  the  scars  remain.  Now  take  my  advice,  and 
whenever  you  find  yourself  doing  a  wrong  thing,  or  get- 
ting into  a  bad  habit,  stop  at  once;  for  every  time  you 
give  up  to  it,  you  drive  another  nail,  and  that  will  leave 
a  scar  on  your  soul,  even  if  the  nail  should  be  afterwards 
drawn  out. 

15.  In  the  narrative  just  given,  why  did  the  "scars"  in 
the  post  give  John  so  much  trouble? 

I<>.  If  the  post  had  been  taken  away  and  burned  up, 
would  John  then  have  been  as  happy  as  though  he  had 
never  done  wrong? 


IN  INJURING  OTHERS,  WE  INJURE  OURSELVES.  31 

VARIED  APPLICATION  OF  EIGHT  PRINCIPLES. 
QUESTIONS    FOR    SPECIAL  AND  GENERAL  REVIEW. 

I.  If  a  person  should  tell  falsehoods  and.  afterwards 
acknowledge  them  and  be  forgiven,  would  his  reputation 
stand  as  well  among  those  who  knew  him  as  though  lie 
had  always  told  the  truth? 

*2.  Would  a  person  who  has  told  one  falsehood  be  more 
or  less  likely  to  tell  another? 

3.  When  we  have  done  wrong  once,  is  it  more,  or  less 
easy  for  us  to  do  wrong  again? 

4.  If  we  have  acted  uprightly  at  any  time,  will  it  be 
more,  or  less  easy  for  us  to  do  right  again? 

5.  In  what  manner  do  persons  ever  become  hardened 

in  cruelty  and  crime? 

6.  In  what  manner  do  some  persons  become  so  bold 
and  strong  in  virtuous  deeds  I 

7.  If  doing  wrong,  little  by  little,  will  finally  ruin  a 
man.  is  there  any  danger  that  by  repeated  wrong-doing 
we  shall  almost  entirely  lose  our  power  to  do  right? 

S.  Can  anybody  who  feels  guilty,  at  the  same  time  feel 
really  happy? 

9.  What  then  is  the  worst  calamity  that  can  happen  to 
anybody?     (To  do  avrong  intentionally.) 

L0.  What  punishment  do  you  consider  harder  to  bear 
than  a  guilty  conscience? 

II.  What  pleasure  is  sweeter  than  the  consciousness  of 
doing  right? 


LESSON  IV. 


THE  NOBLEST  COURAGE  IS  THE  COURAGE  TO  DO  RIGHT. 
NARRATIVE. 

The  Brave  Boy. — 1  was  sitting  by  a  window  in  the 
second  story  of  one  of  the  large  boarding-houses  at  Sara- 
toga Springs,  thinking  of  absent  friends,  when  I  heard 
shouts  of  children  from  the  piazza  beneath  me. 

uO  yes,  that's  capital!  so  we  will!  Come  on  now! 
there's  William  Hale!  Come  on,  William,  we're  going 
to  have  a  ride  on  the  Circular  Railway.     Come  with  us?" 

"Yes,  if  my  mother  is  willing.  I  will  run  and  ask 
her,"  replied  William. 

"0,  O!  so  you  must  run  and  ask  your  ma.  Great  ba- 
by, run  along  to  your  ma!  Ain't  you  ashamed !  I  didn't 
ask  my  mother." — "Nor  I,"  "Nor  1."  added  half  a  dozen 
voices. 

"Be  a  man,  William,"  cried  the  first  voice,  "come  along 
with  us,  if  you  don't  want  to  be  called  a  coward  as  long 
as  you  live; — don't  you  see  we're  all  waiting?" 

I  leaned  forward  to  catch  a  view  of  the  children  and 
saw  Wiiliam  standing  with  one  foot  advanced,  and  his 
hand  firmly  clenched  in  the  midst  of  the  group.  He  was 
a  line  subject  for  a  painter  at  that  moment.  His  flushed 
brow,  flashing  eye,  compressed  lip,  and  changing  cheek. 
all  told  how  the  word  coward  was  rankling  in  his  breast. 
-Will  he  prove  himself  indeed  one  by  yielding  to  them?" 
thought  I.      It    was   with  breathless  interest  I  listened  for 


MORAL    UOURAGK.  38 

his  answer;  for  I  feared  that  the  evil  principle  in  his 
heart  would  be  stronger  than  the  good.     But,  no. 

"  I  will  not  go  without  I  ask  my  mother,"  said  the  no- 
ble boy,  his  voice  trembling  with  emotion;  "I  am  no  cow- 
ard, either.  I  promised  her  I  would  not  go  from  the 
house  without  permission,  and  I  should  be  a  base  coward 
if  I  were  to  tell  her  a  wicked  lie." 

I  saw  him  in  the  evening  amid  the  gathering  multitude 
in  the  parlor.  He  was  walking  by  his  mother's  side,  a 
stately  matron,  clad  in  widow's  weeds.  Her  gentle  and 
polished  manners,  and  the  rich  full  tones  of  her  sweet 
voice  betrayed  a  Southern  birth.  It  was  with  evident 
pride  she  looked  on  her  graceful  boy,  whose  face  was  one 
of  the  finest  I  ever  saw,  fairly  radiant  with  animation  and 
intelligence.  Well  might  she  be  proud  of  such  a  son, 
one  who  could  dare  to  do  right,  when  all  were  tempting 
to  the  wrong.  I  shall  probably  never  see  the  brave  boy 
again;  but  my  heart  breathed  a  prayer  that  that  spirit, 
now  so  strong  in  its  integrity,  might  never  be  sullied  by 
worldliness  and  sin;  neve]*  in  coming  years,  be  tempted 
by  the  multitude  to  evil.  Then  will  he  indeed  be  a  joy 
to  the  widow's  heart — a  pride  and  an  ornament  to  his  na- 
tive land.  Our  country  needs  such  stout,  brave  hearts, 
that  can  stand  fast  when  the  whirlwind  of  temptation 
gathers  thick  and  strong  around  them;  she  needs  men, 
who  from  infancy  upward,  have  scorned  to  be  false  and 
recreant  to  duty. 

Would  you,  young  friend,  be  a  brave  man,  and  a  blessing 
to  your  country,  be  truthful,  never  tell  a  lie,  or  deceive 
in  any  manner;  and  then,  if  God  spares  your  life,  you 
will  be  a  stout-hearted  man,  a  strong  and  fearless  cham- 
pion of  the  truth. 

1.     When  a  soldier  goes  boldlv  to  battle  to  meet  dan- 
5 


34  ELEMENTARY    MORAL    LESSONS. 

ger  and  death,  what  sort  of  courage  does  he  exhibit1? 
(Bodily,  or  physical  courage.) 

2.  When  a  person  dares  to  do  right  when  others 
threaten,  oppose,  or  ridicule  him,  what  sort  of  courage 
does  he  show'?     (Moral  courage.) 

3.  Dogs  will  sometimes  engage  in  a  fight  with  dogs 
much  larger  than  themselves.  What  sort  of  courage  do 
such  dogs  manifest?     (Brute  courage  or  physical  courage.) 

4.  A  boy  was  once  called  a  coward  and  otherwise 
insulted,  because  he  refused  to  join  his  companions  in 
stealing  plums,  for  the  reason  that  he  thought  it  ivrong 
to  steal.  Did  he  show  cowardice,  or  courage  in  refusing 
to  steal1?     If  courage,  of  what  kind? 

5.  Which  do  you  think  the  nobler  quality,  moral  or 
physical  courage'? 

6.  Is  there  ever  any  true  courage,  indeed,  in  doing 
what  we  know  to  be  wrong? 

7.  But  if  a  person  insults  or  injures  you,  does  it  not 
look  spirited,  courageous  and  manlike  in  you  to  resent  the 
insult  or  injury? 

8.  Is  it  certain  that  such  spirit  is  the  right  spirit,  and 
such  courage  true  courage? 

0.  In  the  narrative  last  given,  what  sort  of  courage 
does  the  boy  exhibit  who  refused  to  break  his  promise 
and  disobey  his  mother? 

10.  Is  it  probable  that  the  boys  who  called  William 
Hale  a  coward,  would  be  likely  ever  to  defend  the  truth, 
or  defend   innocent  persons  if  it  was  unpopular  to  do  so? 


MORAL    COURAGE.  35 

11.  Is  it  probable  that  boys  who  would  persuade  you  to 
do  what  they  well  knew  to  be  wrong,  would  have  enough 
of  any  kind  of  courage  to  face  any  sort  of  danger  to  save 
the  lives  of  others? 

12.  Suppose,  in  a  company  of  boys,  that  one  should 
propose  to  go  and  steal  some  fruit  to  eat,  and  that  another 
of  the  boys,  believing  it  to  be  very  ivrong  to  steal,  should 
oppose  the  project  because  the  distance  was  so  great,  or 
the  night  so  dark,  or  the  fences  so  high,  would  this  show 
moral  courage?     Why  not? 

13.  Suppose  another  boy,  knowing  that  it  was  very 
wrong  to  steal,  should  give  as  a  reason  for  not  going,  that 
the  owner  of  the  fruit  was  a  very  kind  man,  would  this 
show  moral  courage?     Why  not? 

14.  What  reason  ought  this,  and  every  other  boy  of 
the  company  to  assign,  at  once,  for  not  going? 


NARRATIVE. 

Taking  the  Right  Ground. — One  Saturday  noon. 
when  school  was  dismissed,  a  number  of  us  stopped  a 
little  while,  to  devise  ways  and  means  of  passing  the 
afternoon  most  pleasantly.  I  was  then,  I  think,  about 
nine  years  of  age.     We  could  not  fix  upon  any  plan;  so 

we  separated, .  agreeing  to  meet,  after  dinner,  at  E 

H 's,  and  take  up  the  subject  again. 

I   received   permission  to  spend  the  afternoon  with 

E ,  or  to  go  where  the  boys  went,  provided  they 

"kept  out  of  mischief."  I  found  the  boys,  some  five  or 
six  in  number,  assembled  there  when  I  arrived.  One  of 
them  was  earnestly  urging  them  to  go  to  the  I or- 


36  ELEMENTARY    MORAL    LESSONS. 

chard,  for  apples.  There  was  a  tree,  he  said,  of  excellent 
apples,  at  a  great  distance  from  the  house,  and  so  near  to 
the  woods  that  we  could  get  as  many  as  we  wanted,  with- 
out being  seen. 

I  saw  at  once  that  I  could  not  be.  one  of  the  party,  for 
I  was  not  brought  up  to  steal  apples  or  any  thing  else. 
As  I  did  not  wish  to  be  left  alone,  I  was  very  desirous 
that  the  plan  should  not  be  adopted.  I  accordingly 
brought  forward  several,  objections — the  distance  of  the 
orchard  from  us,  the  probability  that  we  should  not  suc- 
ceed, the  shame  that  would  follow  detection  in  the  at- 
tempt, and  the  fact  that  none  of  our  parents  would  be 
willing  to  have  us  go  upon  such  an  expedition. 

My  objections  were  plausibly  answered  by  the  propo- 
ser of  the  plan,  and  I  began  to  fear  that  I  should  be  left 

in  a  minority,  when  R A joined  us.     When  he 

had  learned  the  state  of  the  case,  he  said  the  expedition 
was  not  to  be  thought  of,  as  it  was  wrong.  It  would 
displease  God.  Disguise  it  as  we  would,  it  was  stealing, 
and  God's  law  said,  "Thou 'shalt  not  steal."  His  remark 
settled  the  question.  The  plan  was  given  up.  We  con- 
cluded to  go  and  play  in  a  large,  new-mown  meadow. 

I  have  related  this  incident  to  show  how  important  it 
is  to  take  the  right  ground  in  opposing  that  which  is 
wrong.  R took  the  right  ground.  He  planted  him- 
self on  the  everlasting  rule  of  right.  1  have  observed 
that  when  young  persons  are  asked  to  do  what  their 
consciences  will  not  approve,  they  often  assign  various 
reasons  for  declining,  instead  of  boldly  stating  the  true 
and  chief  reason,  namely,  that  it  is  -wrong.  Never  be 
afraid  or  ashamed  to  avow  your  adherance  to  the  rule  of 
right.  If  a  thing  is  not  right,  say  you  will  not  do  it,  be- 
cause it  is  not  right,  and  do  not  think  it  needful  to  add 
any  other  reason. 


MORAL    COURAGE.  37 

15.  In  the  last  narrative,  how  many  of  the  boys  man- 
ifested true  courage  respecting  the  proposition  to  steal 
apples? 

16.  Is  it  probable  that  the  boys  loved  and  respected 

R A any  the  less,  for  telling  them  all,  boldly 

and  promptly,  and  decidedly,  that  it  was  wrong  to  steal 
fruit? 

17.  What  is  the  first  question  to  be  asked,  when  we  are 
invited  to  join  others  in  any  amusement  or  undertaking, 
or  set  about  any  plans  of  our  own?     (is  it  right  .') 

18.  But  suppose  we  have  decided  to  do  what  we 
think  right  ourselves,  would  you  think  it  necessary  for  us, 
at  any  time,  to  say  to  others  what  we  think  is  right? 

19.  Suppose  R A in  the  narrative  given,  had 

decided  in  his  own  mind  that  it  was  wrong  to  steal  fruit, 
and  then  silently  walked  away  without  making  known  his 
convictions  to  his  companions,  would  that  course  have 
answered  just  as  well? 

20.  Can  any  one  possess  true  courage,  while  he  is 
ashamed  or  afraid  to  speak  and  act  just  as  he  thinks  is 
right? 


VARIED   APPLICATION   OF   EIGHT  PRINCIPLES. 
questions  for  special  and  general  review. 

1.  Which  do  you  consider  the  more  difficult  duty,  to 
do  right  when  all  of  our  friends  unite  in  ridiculing  us,  for 
our  opinions,  or  when  they  unite  in  opposition  and  vio- 
lence on  the  same  account? 


38  ELEMENTARY    MORAL    LESSONS. 

2.  In  case  one  of  your  neighbors  should  discover  a 
thief  taking  money  or  valuable  articles  from  your  fath- 
er's house,  what  would  you  consider  to  be  the  duty  of 
that  neighbor? 

3.  In  case  you  were  to  see  a  person  set  fire  to  your 
neighbor's  dwelling,  what  would  be  your  duty1? 

4.  If  you  knew  that  several  persons  were  banded 
together  for  the  purpose  of  secretly  placing  obstructions 
upon  the  rail  road  track,  what  would  be  your  duty? 

5.  But  suppose  you  were  threatened  with  violence,  if 
you  revealed  these  secret  purposes  of  mischief;  what 
ought  you  to  do? 

6.  Suppose  your  best  friend  becomes  involved  in  a 
difficulty  at  school,  in  which  you  know  your  friend  is  very 
much  to  blame;  if  you  are  called  upon  by  parents  or 
proper  persons  to  state  the  facts  in  the  case,  what  must 
you  do? 

7.  Which  would  be  better  in  such  a  case,  to  lose  your 
friend  by  exposing  his  faults,  or,  to  conceal  them,  and 
prevent  justice  from  being  done  to  all  the  parties? 

8.  In  case  all  of  your  associates  threaten  you  with 
their  displeasure,  or  even  with  violence,  if  you  reveal 
their  secret  plans  of  mischief;  what  ought  you  to  do? 

9.  If  you  knew  that  your  companions  were  trying. 
either  by  ridicule,  threatening  or  violence,  to  prevent 
one  of  your  associates  from  exposing  their  plans  of  mis- 
chief, would  you  have  any  duty  to  do  in  the  matter? 

10.  If  at  any  time,  in  any  manner,  you  see  another 


MAKING    PROMISES.  39 

trying  to  do  right  while  others  try,  in  any  manner,  to  pre- 
vent him  from  doing  so,  what  will  be  yonr  duty'? 

11.  Why  should  any  one  ever  be  ashamed  or  afraid 
to  do  what  is  right? 

12.  Why  should  any  one,  at  any  time,  be  ashamed  or 
afraid  to  do  what  is  wrong? 


LESSON    V. 


BE  SLOW  TO  PROMISE,  BUT  SURE  TO  PERFORM. 


NARRATIVE. 

Anecdote  oe  the  Hungarian  War. — During  an  en- 
gagement between  an  Hungarian  and  an  Austrian  troop 
of  light  infantry,  a  Honved  stabbed  an  Austrian  officer 
with  a  bayonet,  and  mortally  wounded  him.  Natural 
generosity  prompted  the  Hungarian  Honved  to  extend 
his  aid  to  the  dying  foe.  The  officer  said  to  him  with 
great  exertion:  "I  see  you  are  a  brave  and  a  good-na- 
tured fellow;  I  will  ask  a  favor  of  you.  In  my  pocket- 
book  you  will  find  a  package  containing  documents,  with- 
out wrhich  my  family  will  be  ruined— reduced  to  beggary. 
Promise  to  send  this  package  to  my  family  in  Prague,  in 
Bohemia."  "I  will  carry  it  to  them  myself,"  answered 
the  Honved.  "Swear  it  to  me,"  said  the  Austrian.-— 
•'Sir,  I  am  a  Hungarian;  I  give  you  my  word,"  respond- 
ed the  Honved.     In  a  few  minutes  afterwards  the  wound- 


40  ELEMENTARY    MORAL    LESSONS. 

ed  man  died  in  the  arms  of  his  generous  foe,  who,  after 
covering  the  body  with  his  own  mantle,  and  putting  his 
sword  in  his  hands,  crossing  them,  took  the  papers  and 
joined  his  troop. 

The  conflict  ended,  and  the  Honved  repaired  to  his 
captain  and  requested  a  furlough,  which  was  denied. — 
This  did  not  discourage  our  hero ;  he  went  to  see  the  col- 
onel of  his  regiment,  but  met  with  the  same  result.  Fi- 
lially he  went  to  the  commanding  General,  Kalapka,  but 
even  he  did  not  grant  his  request.  In  the  night  following 
he  left  the  camp,  and  in  the  course  of  a  few  days  he  trav- 
eled four  hundred  miles,  and  delivered  the  papers  safely 
into  the  hands  of  the  deeply  afflicted  widow  of  the  deceased 
Austrian,  residing  at  Prague. 

Soon  after  our  hero,  the  Honved,  rejoined  his  corps, 
and  reported  himself  to  his  captain,  who  had  him  arrest- 
ed as  a  deserter.  A  future  court  martial  condemned  him 
to  be  shot.  The  brave  man  calmly  resigned  himself  to 
his  fate,  which  came  not  to  him  unexpectedly.  He  pre- 
pared himself  for  death,  and  when  the  fated  muskets  were 
aimed  at  his  breast,  he  exclaimed — "I  pledged  my  honor 
and  my  word,  and  I  was  bound  to  keep  them.  Elgen  a 
hasa!"  (Hurrah  for  my  native  land) — and  sank  dead. 
pierced  by  many  musket  balls. 

QUESTIONS  FOR  ILLUSTRATION. 

1.  If  you  had  promised  to  carry  some  medicine  to  a 
sick  friend  at  a  certain  hour,  and  when  the  time  arrived. 
the  weather  should  be  very  stormy,  what  would  be  your 
duty? 

2.  If  you  had  promised  a  stranger  or  an  enemy  thai 
you  would  deliver  a  letter  at  the  Post  Office  at  a  partic- 


MAKING    PROMISES.  41 

ular  hour,  and  should  afterwards  find  that  by  doing  so, 
you  would  lose  the  opportunity  to  go  on  a  delightful 
pleasure  excursion;  what  ought  you  to  do? 

3.  If  you  had  promised  that  you  would  not  engage  in 
certain  amusements,  and  you  should  afterwards  learn 
that  some  of  your  best  friends  would  be  offended  if  you 
did  not,  what  would  be  your  duty? 

4.  If  you  should  promise  to  call  on  a  friend  at  nine 
o'clock  in  the  morning,  would  you  fulfill  your  promise  if 
you  called  at  five  minutes  past  nine? 

5.  If  you  had  promised  to  work  at  hard  labor  for  one 
year  for  one  hundred  dollars,  and  you  should  afterwards 
learn  that  you  could  get  one  hundred  and  fifty  in  an  em- 
ployment that  suited  you  much  better,  what  would  be 
your  duty? 

6.  What  would  you  consider  a  good  excuse  for  break- 
ing a  promise,  at  any  time? 

7.  Would  the  Hungarian  soldier,  spoken  of  in  the  last 
narrative,  have  probably  broken  his  promise  on  account 
of  stormy  weather,  or  for  the  sake  of  a  pleasure  excur- 
sion, or  for  fear  of  offending  friends,  or  for  the  desire  of 
making  money? 

8.  Did  the  Hungarian  soldier  value  his  promise  more 
highly  than  he  ought  to  value  it? — More  highly  than  ev- 
ery person  should  value  a  promise? 

9.  Children  sometimes  promise  to  refrain  from  eating 
fruit  at  certain  times,  or  to  return  from  a  visit  at  a  cer- 
tain hour,  and  in  the  midst  of  their  enjoyments  forget  to 
keep  their  promises.     Do  such  persons  deserve  any  blame? 

6 


4'2  ELEMENTARY    MORAL    LESSONS. 

NARRATIVE. 

The  Broken  Pledge. — A  gentleman  in  Virginia,  says 
Mr.  Gougli,  had  a  boy  six  or  seven  years  old,  who  want- 
ed to  sign  the  pledge  of  total  abstinence  from  intoxica- 
ting drinks;  all  in  the  family  had  done  so,  but  the  father 
thought  him  too  young,  and  would  not  let  him.  After 
much  entreaty,  permission  was  given.  Soon  after,  the 
father  went  on  a,  journey.  At  one  stopping-place  away 
from  the  town,  he  called  for  some  water.  It  did  not 
come,  so  he  called  again;  still  he  could  not  get  it;  but 
cider  was  brought,  and.  being  very  thirsty,  he  so  far  for- 
got himself  as  to  drink  that.  When  he  got  home,  he  re- 
lated the  circumstance.  After  he  had  finished,  the  little 
boy  came  up  to  his  knee  with  his  eyes  full  of  tears,  and 
said,  "Father,  how  far  was  you  from  James  river  when 
you  drank  the  cider?'7  "Rather  more  than  fifteen  miles, 
my  boy."  ••Well/'  said  the  little  fellow,  "I'd  have 
walked  there  and  back  again,  rather  than  have  broken  my 
pledge/1  Oh,  God  bless  the  children.  We  have  thou- 
sands such  as  those — children  who  understand  the  princi- 
ple, and  keep  the  practice.  I  sometimes  wish  the  adults 
kept  the  pledge  as  well  as  the  boys  do. 

10.  Which  would  you  think  the  more  binding,  a  prom- 
ise made  in  words,  or  a  promise  made  in  writing? 

1  i.  Do  you  think  the  boy  spoken  of  in  the  last  narra- 
tive, was  too  particular  about  keeping  his  pledge? 

12.  Would  the  Hungarian  soldier  have  probably  for- 
gotten his  promise  when  a  little  thirsty,  as  this  boy"s  fa- 
ther did? 

13.  Which  would  you  think  the  more  binding,  a  prom- 
ise made  to  young  children  or  to  grown  persons? 


MAKING    PROMISES.  43 


NARRATIVE. 


The  Little  Stranger. — Though  a  man  of  very  strict 
principles,  no  man  ever  enjoyed  a  joke  more  than  Dr. 
Byron;  he  had  a  vast  fund  of  humor,  an  every-day  wit, 
and  with  children,  particularly,  he  loved  to  chat  familiar- 
ly, and  draw  them  out.  As  he  was  one  day  passing  into 
the  house,  he  was  accosted  by  a  very  little  hoy,  who 
asked  him  if  he  wanted  any  sauce,  meaning  vegetables. 
The  doctor  inquired  if  such  a  tiny  thing  was  a  market 
man.  "No,  sir,  my  father,"  was  the  prompt  answer. — 
The  doctor  said,  "bring  me  in  some  squashes,"  and  passed 
into  the  house,  sending  out  the  change.  In  a  few  minutes 
the  child  returned,  bringing  back  part  of  the  change ;  the 
doctor  told  him  he  was  welcome  to  it;  but  the  child  would 
not  take  it  back,  saying  his  father  would  blame  him. — 
Such  singular  maimers  in  a  child  attracted  his  attention, 
and  he  began  to  examine  the  child  attentively;  h^  was 
evidently  poor,  his  little  jacket  was  pieced  and  patched 
with  almost  every  kind  of  cloth,  and  his  trowsers  darned 
with  so  many  colors  it  was  difficult  to  tell  the  original 
fabric,  but  scrupulously  neat  and  clean  withal.  The  boy 
very  quietly  endured  the  scrutiny  of  the  doctor,  while 
holding  him  at  arm's  length,  and  examining  his  face. — 
At  length  he  said, 

"You  seem  a  nice  little  boy  ;  won't  you  come  and  live 
with  me  and  be  a  doctor'?" 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  the  child. 

"Spoken  like  a  man,"  said  the  doctor,  patting  his  head 
as  he  dismissed  him. 

A  few  weeks  passed  on,  when  one  day  Jim  came  to 
say  there  was  a  little  boy  with  a  bundle  down  stairs  want- 
ing to  see  the  doctor,  and  would  not  tell  his  business  to 


44  ELEMENTARY    MORAL    LESSONS. 

ai  y  one  else. — "Send  him  up,"  was  the  answer;  and  in  a 
few  moments  he  recognized  the  boy  of  the  squashes,  (but 
no  squash  himself,  as  we  shall  see;  )  he  was  dressed  in  a 
new,  though  coarse  suit  of  clothes,  his  hair  very  nicely 
combed,  his  shoes  brushed  up,  and  a  little  bundle  tied  in 
a  home-spun  checked  handkerchief,  on  his  arm.  Delib- 
erately taking  off  his  hat,  and  laying  it  down  with  his 
bundle,  he  walked  up  to  the  doctor,  saying, 

"I  have  come,  sir." 

"Come  for  what,  my  child?" 

"To  live  with  you  and  be  a  doctor,"  said  the  child  with 
the  utmost  naivette. 

The  first  impulse  of  the  doctor  was  to  laugh  immod- 
erately ;  but  the  imperturbable  gravity  of  the  little  thing 
rather  sobered  him,  as  he  recalled,  too,  his  former  con- 
versation, and  he  avowed  he  felt  he  needed  no  addition  to 
his  family. 

"  Did  your  father  consent  to  your  coming'?"  he  asked. 

"Yes,  sir." 

"What  did  he  say?" 

■'•I  told  him  you  wanted  me  to  come  and  live  with  you 
and  be  a  doctor;  and  he  said  you  was  a  very  good  man, 
and  I  might  come  as  soon  as  my  clothes  were  ready." 

"And  your  mother,  what  did  she  say" 

"She  said  Dr.  Byron  would  do  just  what  he  said  he 
would,  and  God  had  provided  for  me."  "And,"  said  he, 
"I  have  a  new  suit  of  clothes,"  surveying  himself,  "and 
here  is  another  in  the  bundle,"  undoing  the  kerchief,  and 
displaying  them,  with  two  little  shirts  as  white  as  snow, 
and  a  couple  of  neat  checked  aprons,  so  carefully  folded, 
it  was  plain  none  but  a  mother  would  have  done  it.  The 
sensibilities  of  the  doctor  were  awakened,  to  see  the  fear- 
less, the  undoubting  trust  with  which  that  poor  couple  had 


MAKING    PROMISES.  45 

bestowed  their  child  upon  him,  and  such  a  child.  His 
cogitations  were  not  long;  he  thought  of  Moses  in  the 
bulrushes,  abandoned  to  Providence;  and  above  all,  he 
thought  of  the  child  that  was  carried  into  Egypt,  and  that 
the  Divine  Savior  had  said,  "Blessed  be  little  children:" 
and  he  called  for  the  wife  of  his  bosom,  saying,  "Susan, 
dear,  I  think  we  pray  in  church  that  God  will  have  mercy 

UPON  ALL  YOUNG  CHILDREN." 

"To  be  sure  Ave  do."  said  the  wondering  wife,  "and 
what  then?" 

"And  the  Savior  said  'Whosoever  receiveth  one  such 
little  child  in  his  name,  receiveth  me ; '  take  this  child  in 
his  name,  and  take  care  of  him; "  and  from  this  hour  this 
good  couple  received  him  to  their  hearts  and  homes.  It 
did  not  then  occur  to  them  that  one  of  the  most  eminent 
physicians  and  best  men  of  the  age  stood  before  them  in 
the  person  of  that  child;  it  did  not  occur  to  them  that 
this  little  creature,  thus  thrown  upon  their  charity,  was 
destined  to  be  their  staff  and  stay  in  declining  age — a  pro- 
tector to  their  daughters,  a  more  than  son  to  themselves ; 
all  this  was  then  unrevealed;  but  they  cheerfully  received 
the  child  they  believed  Providence  had  committed  to 
their  care;  and  if  ever  beneficence  was  rewarded,  it  was 
in  this  instance. 


14.  If  Dr.  Byron  had  invited  a  young  man  twenty 
years  of  age,  to  come  and  live  with  him  and  study  med- 
icine, what  would  have  been  the  doctor's  duty  in  case  the 
young  man  had  come  to  his  house  with  his  trunks  and 
books,  in  accordance  with  the  invitation? 

15.  But  suppose  the  doctor  should  have  no  expectation 
whatever  that  the  young  man  would  ever  come,  though 


46  ELEMENTARY    MORAL   LESSONS. 

he  had  given  him  a  fair  invitation  to  do  so;  if  he  should 
really  come,  what  would  be  the  doctor's  duty? 

16.  When  Dr.  Byron  invited  the  little  boy  to  come 
and  live  with  him,  did  he  really  expect  he  would  ever 
come'?     Did  the  boy  suppose  he  was  in  earnest? 

17.  When  the  boy  came  with  his  little  bundle,  what 
do  you  think  was  the  doctor's  duty? 


VARIED  APPLICATION  OF  EIGHT  PRINCIPLES. 
QUESTIONS    FOR    SPECIAL  AND  GENERAL  REVIEW. 

1.  If  we  are  thoroughly  resolved  to  keep  sacredly  ev- 
ery promise  we  make,  shall  we  be  likely  to  make  many, 
or  few  promises? 

2.  If  we  succeed  in  keeping,  strictly,  every  promise  we 
make,  who  thereby  receives  the  greater  benefit,  ourselves, 
or  those  to  whom  the  promises  are  made? 

3.  What  advantage  is  it  to  us  to  keep  all  the  promises 
we  make? 

4.  If  we  scrupulously  keep  all  of  our  promises,  what 
advantages  will  there  be  to  others? 

5.  When  we  have  made  promises  and  find  that  we  can- 
not fulfil  them  exactly  as  we  expected,  what  ought  we 
to  do? 

6.  If,  on  account  of  your  negligence  in  keeping  your 
promise,  your  friend  shoulddose  five  dollars,  what  would 
be  your  duty? 


HONOR  THY  FATHER  AND  THY  MOTHER.        47 

7.  Can  all  of  the  losses,  occasioned  by  the  failure  of 
persons  to  keep  their  promises,  be  made  good  with 
money  ? 

8.  Which  is  better  for  us  always  to  do,  to  disappoint 
our  friends  by  refusing  to  promise,  or  disappoint  them  by 
failing  to  fulfil  our  promise1? 


LESSON  VI. 


HONOR  THY  FATHER  AND  THY  MOTHER. 


NARRATIVE. 

Honoring  Parents. — As  a  stranger  went  into  the 
churchyard  of  a  pretty  village  he  beheld  three  children 
at  a  newly  made  grave.  A  boy  about  ten  years  of  age 
was  busily  engaged  in  placing  plants  of  turf  about  it, 
while  a  little  girl,  who  appeared  a  year  or  two  younger, 
held  in  her  apron  a  few  roots  of  wild  flowers.  The  third 
child,  still  younger,  was  sitting  on  the  grass  watching  with 
thoughtful  looks  the  movements  of  the  other  two.  They 
wore  pieces  of  crape  on  their  hats,  and  a  few  other  signs 
of  mourning,  such  as  are  sometimes  worn  by  the  poor 
who  struggle  between  their  poverty  and  their  afflictions. 

The  girl  soon  began  planting  some  of  her  wild  flowers 
around  the  head  of  the  grave,  when  the  stranger  addressed 
them: 

"Whose  grave  is  this,  children,  about  which  you  are 
so  busily  engaged  ?" 


48  ELEMENTARY    MORAL    LESSONS. 

"  Mother's  grave,  sir,"  said  the  boy. 

"And  did  your  father  send  you  to  place  these  flowers 
around  your  mother's  grave?" 

"No,  sir,  father  lies  here  too,  and  little  William  and 
sister  Jane." 

"When  did  they  die?" 

"Mother  was  buried  a  fortnight  yesterday,  sir;  but  fa- 
ther died  last  winter;  they  all  lie  here." 

"Then  who  told  you  to  do  this?" 

"Nobody,  sir,"  replied  the  girl. 

"Then  why  do  you  do  it?" 

They  appeared  at  a  loss  for  an  answer,  but  the  stran- 
ger looked  so  kindly  at  them,  at  length  the  eldest  replied 
as  the  tears  started  to  his  eyes : 

"Oh,  we  love  them,  sir." 

"Then  you  put  these  grass  turfs  and  wild  flowers  where 
your  parents  are  laid,  because  you  love  them?" 

"Yes,  sir,"  they  all  eagerly  replied. 

What  can  be  more  beautiful  than  such  an  exhibition  of 
children  honoring  deceased  parents?  Never  forget  the 
dear  parents  who  loved  and  cherished  you  in  your  infant 
days !  Ever  remember  their  parental  kindness !  Honor 
their  memory  by  doing  those  things  which  you  know 
would  please  them  were  they  now  alive,  by  a  particular 
regard  to  their  dying  commands,  and  carry  on  their  plans 
of  usefulness!  Are  your  parents  spared  to  you?  Ever 
treat  them  as  you  will  wish  you  had  done,  when  you 
stand  a  lonely  orphan  at  their  graves !  How  will  a  re- 
membrance of  kind,  affectionate  conduct  towards  those 
departed  friends  then  help  to  sooth  your  grief  and  heal 
your  wounded  heart. 


HONOR  THY  FATHER  AND  THY  MOTHER.  49 

QUESTIONS  FOR  ILLUSTRATION. 

1.  Which  would  you  think  the  more  certain  way  of 
honoring  parents,  to  obey  all  their  commands  and  always 
respect  their  wishes  while  they  are  living,  or.  to  plant 
flowers  upon  their  graves  when  they  are  dead? 

2.  Our  parents  sometimes  think  it  is  their  duty  to  de- 
ny  us  favors,  when  we  cannot  see  any  reason  why  they 
do  so.  "What  is  the  duty  of  children  under  such  circum- 
stances? 

3.  Winch  would  you  think  afforded  the  stronger  evi- 
dence of  affection  for  parents,  to  be  very  generous  in  ma- 
king them  little  presents,  or,  to  be  very  cheerful  and  af- 
fectionate when  denied  any  favor  I 

4.  If  you  were  to  ask  your  parents  for  permission  to 
go  on  a  pleasure  excursion,  and  they  should  reply,  "that 
you  might  go  if  you  felt  very  anxious  to  do  so,  but  they 
would  prefer  that  you  would  not  go;"  what  should  you 
do? 

5.  Children  art:  sometimes  ashamed  of  their  parents 
because  their  dress  is  not  fashionable,  or  their  manners 
not  as  refined  as  they  would  like.  Which  have  the  great- 
er reason  to  be  ashamed,  the  children  of  such  parents,  or, 
the  parents  of  such  children  I 

6.  Children  who  have  been  successful  in  life,  are  some- 
times very  much  ashamed  to  have  their  poor,  aged  pa- 
rents visit  them.     Whv  is  this  so? 


NARRATIVE. 


Archbishop  Tillotson. — There  are  some  children  who 
are  almost  ashamed  to  own  their  parents,  because  they 


50  ELEMENTARY    MORAL    LESSONS. 

are  poor,  or  in  a  low  situation  of  life.  We  will,  there- 
fore, give  an  example  of  the  contrary,  as  displayed  by 
the  Dean  of  Canterbury,  after  Avar  ds  Archbishop  Tillotson. 
His  father,  who  was  a  plain  Yorkshireman,  perhaps  some- 
thing like  those  we  now  call  "Friends,"  approached  the 
house  where  his  son  resided,  and  inquired  whether  "John 
Tillotson  was  at  home."  The  servant,  indignant  at  what 
he  thought  his  insolence,  drove  him  from  the  door ;  but 
the  dean,  who  was  within,  hearing  the  voice  of  his  father, 
instead  of  embracing  the  opportunity  afforded  him,  of 
going  out  and  bringing  in  his  father  in  a  more  private 
manner,  came  running  out,  exclaiming  in  the  presence  of 
his  astonished  servants,  "It  is  my  beloved  father;"  and. 
falling  down  on  his  knees,  asked  for  his  blessing.  Obe- 
dience and  love  to  our  parents  is  a  very  distinct  and  im- 
portant command  of  God,  upon  which  he  has  promised 
his  blessing,  and  his  promises  never  fail. 

7.  Did  the  servants  probably  respect  Archbishop  Til- 
lotson ?nore,  or  less  highly  for  the  respect  and  honor  he 
manifested  to  his  aged  father? 

8.  Children  sometimes  deny  themselves  enjoyments 
that  they  may  be  better  able  to  promote  the  happiness 
of  their  parents,  and  sometimes  parents  do  the  same  to 
promote  the  happiness  of  their  children.  Which  do  you 
think  is  the  more  common? 

9.  Children  sometimes  feel  willing  to  sacrifice  their 
lives  for  their  parents,  and  sometimes  parents  do  the  same 
for  their  children.  Which  do  you  think  is  the  more  com- 
mon? 


NARRATIVE. 

A  Daughter's  Love. — During  the  sanguinary  period 


HONOR  THY  FATHER  AND  THY  MOTHER.        51 

of  the  French  revolution,  when  crimes  and  horrors  were 
continually  perpetrated,  the  sacred  affections  of  kindred 
and  of  friendship  -were  often  powerfully  excited. 

One  such  instance  occurred  amid  the  terrific  massacres 
of  an  age  unparalleled  in  atrocity;  when  crowds  of  un- 
fortunate persons  were  condemned  unheard,  and  loaded 
cannon  were  ordered  to  play  upon  them.  Yet  not  only 
in  France  and  its  dependencies — among  the  incidents  of 
unflinching  heroism  and  filial  love,  which  La  Vendee  con- 
tinually exhibited — but  in  the  far-off  West,  in  one  of 
those  unfortunate  islands  where  the  massacres  of  the  Reign 
of  Terror  were  enacted  on  a  less  extended  theatre. 

An  honest  Creole,  whose  only  crime  consisted  in  pos- 
sessing the  inheritance  of  his  ancestors,  was  denounced  as 
inimical  to  the  Republic,  and  sentenced  to  die  with  a  crowd 
of  his  fellow-countrymen.  But,  happily  for  this  virtuous 
colonist,  he  was  the  father  of  a  little  girl,  eminently  en- 
dowed with  courage,  energy,  and  affection;  and,  when 
the  moment  of  separation  from  his  family  arrived,  this 
courageous  child  resolved  to  follow  and  share  his  suffer- 
ings, however  terrible  to  her  tender  age,  In  vain  did  the 
father  entreat  his  little  Annette  to  remain  at  home,  and 
the  mother,  with  streaming  eyes,  seek  to  retain  her  child 
by  force.  Entreaties  and  commands  were  equally  una- 
vailing, and,  rushing  from  the  door,  she  continued  to  fol- 
low at  a  little  distance,  the  rough  men  who  urged  her 
unhappy  father  to  the  place  of  execution.  Small  time 
sufficed  to  place  him  in  the  foremost  rank  of  the  con- 
demned; his  eyes  were  blinded,  and  his  hands  tied  to- 
gether, while  the  executioners  made  ready  those  murder- 
ous engines,  which  were  soon  to  open  a  heavy  fire  of  grape 
shot  upon  the  crowds  who  awaited  their  death  in  silence. 

But  suddenly  a  little  girl  sprang  forward,  and  her  voice, 


■rZ  ELEMENTARY    MORAL    LESSONS. 

tremulous  with  emotion,  uttered  the  piercing  cry  of — 
"Oh,  my  father!  my  father!"  The  lookers  on  endeav- 
ored to  snatch  her  from  destruction,  and  those  who  were 
alike  condemned  to  death,  menaced  the  poor  child,  in 
order  to  drive  her  from  among  them.  Annette  bounded 
with  light  step  toward  her  father,  as  she  had  been  wont 
to  do  in  happier  days,  when  awaiting  his  welcome  voice, 
and  throwing  her  little  arms  round  his  neck,  she  waited 
to  perish  with  the  author  of  her  days. 

"Oh,  my  child,  my  dearest  child,  the  cherished  and 
only  hope  of  thy  wretched  mother,  now  on  the  eve  of 
widowhood! "  exclaimed  her  trembling  and  weeping  father, 
"I  command,  I  conjure  thee  to  go  away." 

"No,  papa,  we  will  die  together." 

This  unexpected  incident  disconcerted  the  director  of 
the  massacre.  Perhaps  he  was  himself  a  father,  and  the 
thought  of  his  own  children  might  arise  within  him.  — 
Certain  it  is,  that  his  ferocious  heart  was  softened ;  he  or- 
dered the  Creole  away,  and  demanded  that  he  should  be 
taken  to  prison,  with  his  child.  Amid  the  rage  of  civil 
discord,  and  the  alternate  ascendancy  of  contending  fac- 
tions, a  brief  respite  was  not  unfrequently  productive  of 
the  happiest  consequences.  Such  was  the  case  in  the 
present  instance.  The  face  of  affairs  became  changed ; 
the  father  was  restored  to  his  family,  and  ceased  not  to 
speak  with  the  tenderest  emotion  of  his  little  daughter, 
then  only  ten  years  of  age. 


VARIED  APPLICATION  OF  EIGHT  PRINCIPLES. 

UUESTIOjSS  for  special  and  general  review. 

1.  If  you  were  directed  by  your  parents  to  perform  a 
certain  piece  of  work,  and  you  should  do  the  work  as  di- 


HONOR  THY  FATHER  AND  THY  MOTHER.        Do 

rected,  but  very  sullenly,  instead  of  cheerfully,  would  this 
be  obedience? 

2.  If  you  were  intentionally  twice  as  long  as  necessary 
in  doing  any  service  that  your  parents  had  asked  of  you, 
because  you  did  not  wish  to  do  the  service,  would  that 
be  obedience? 

3.  Suppose  you  know  it  i*<  contrary  to  the  wishes  of 
your  parents  to  have  you  engage  in  certain  sports  or 
amusements,  and  that,  if  you  were  to  ask  them,  they 
would  refuse  you;  but  you  have  never  asked  them. — 
Would  it  be  disobedience  to  engage  in  them'? 

4.  If  you  know  that  any  favor  you  desire  is  contrary 
to  the  wishes  of  your  parents,  do  you  do  right  to  ask  it? 

5.  After  you  have  once  been  denied  a  favor,  do  you 
think  it  right  to  ask  a  second  time? 

(3.  Suppose  you  have  permission  to  visit  two  hours  with 
some  of  your  playmates,  would  it  be  disobedience  to  stay 
two  hours  and  a  half? — two  and  a  quarter? 

7.  Children  sometimes  urge  their  companions  to  stay 
longer  to  visit  with  them,  than  their  parents  have  given 
them  permission  to  stay.     Is  it  right  to  do  this? 

8.  Is  it  right  for  us  ever  to  ask  others  to  do,  what  we 
know  is  not  right,  either  for  them  or  for  us  to  do? 


LESSON  VII 


THINK  THE  TRUTH— SPEAK  THE  TEUTH— ACT  THE  TRUTH. 


NARRATIVE. 

The  Dishonest  Newsboy.— As  1  was  walking  near 
the  "Battery,"  in  New  York,  a  few  days  ago,  on  my 
way  to  the  steamboat  Metropolis,  a  lusty,  ragged,  and 
dirty  newsboy  came  down  Broadway  with  a.  bundle  of 
newspapers  under  his  arms,  loudly  shouting, 


New  York  Evening  'Erald!  arrival  of  the   Pacii 


all  about  the  war!     New  York  'Erald,  last  edition!" 

"Here  my  lad,"  said  I,  as  he  approached  me,  "let 
me  have  a  copy  of  your  paper,  I  want  to  see  the  steam- 
er's news. " 

The  boy  thrust  a  copy  of  the  paper  into  my  hand,  and 
seemed  so  excited  with  desire  to  continue  his  walk  and 
his  cry,  he  could  scarcely  wrait  to  take  his  money.  As  1 
had  no  pennies  about  me,  and  as  I  saw  not  a  little  of  the 
rogue  in  his  wicked  looking  eyes,  I  held  a  five  cent  piece 
between  my  fingers  and  asked, 

"How  much  do  you  want  for  your  paper,  my  lad?" 
"Sixpence!"  said  he  with  an  impudent  look. 
"Sixpence!"  I  replied,  "why,  boy,  I  fear  you  are  ro- 
guish.    The  price  of  your  paper  is  only  two  cents;  why 
do  you  ask  six?" 

"Well,  I'll  take  three  cents,"  he  replied,  without  paus- 
ing to  explain  the  reason  why  his  first  demand  was  so 
high. 


TRUTHFULNESS.  55 

"Give  me  two  cents,  then,"  said  I,  "but  I  fear  you  are 
a  bad  lad." 

"No,  give  me  your  money  first,"  he  answered. 

Upon  this,  I  offered  him  his  paper,  and  was  about  to 
pass  on.  This  brought  him  to  his  senses,  and  he  took 
out  his  pennies,  gave  me  the  change,  turned  upon  his 
heel,  and  ran  off  shouting. 

"New  York  'Erald!  last  edition!  all  about  the  war! 
Evening  edition." 

I  now  opened  my  paper,  for  I  felt  very  desirous  to 
glance  at  the  news  from  Europe.  I  looked  first  at  one 
column  and  then  at  another.  But  I  searched  in  vain.  1 
could  not  find  one  word  about  the  steamer  or  her  news. 
What  could  it  mean'?  Aha!  the  boy  had  cheated  me. — 
He  had  sold  me  the  morning  edition  of  the  paper,  which 
I  had  read  nine  hours  before,  and  which  had  been  printed 
before  the  Pacific  had  been  telegraphed. 

"Well,"  said  I  to  myself,  "that  boy  has  cheated  me 
for  the  sake  of  three  cents.  He  had  those  morning  pa- 
pers left,  and  came  running  down  this  street  with  a  lie  in 
his  mouth,  that  he  might  push  them  off  among  the  pas- 
sengers by  the  evening  steamers,  Avho,  being  in  haste  to 
get  on  board,  would  purchase  papers  without  pausing  to 
look  at  them  until  they  got  out  into  the  river. " 

I  have  no  doubt  the  young  rogue  thought  this  a  very 
clever  trick.  He  looked  as  if  he  had  already  sinned 
away  his  conscience,  and  I  dare  say  he  felt  but  very  little 
of  that  pain  which  follows  a  wrong  act  in  a  healthy  mind. 
Poor,  miserable  boy !  I  pity  him  and  can  but  indulge 
the  fear  that  in  a  few  years  he  will  be  the  inmate  of  a 
State  prison.  That  successful  lie  will  lead  him  to  bolder 
sins,  and  finally  to  ruin: 

T  hope  my  youiig  readers  ieoi  as  I  do  towards  him.     If 


56  ELEMENTARY    MORAL    LESSONS. 

that  keen  eyed  boy,  now  reading  these  lines,  is  more  pleas- 
ed at  the  newsboy's  trick  than  he  is  pained  at  his  deceit. 
it  is  a  sign  that  his  mind  is  more  inclined  to  evil  than  to 
good.  A  right  minded  youth  shrinks  with  disgust  from 
a  dishonorable  act,  however  smartly  it  may  be  done; 
while  the  wicked  can  find  fun  in  the  skill  of  wickedness. 

That  poor  newsboy  not  only  sinned  against  God  and 
himself  in  telling  me  that  lie,  but  he  also  injured  the 
honest  newsboys  of  New  York.  His  act  made  me  sus- 
pect that  New  York  newsboys  are  bad  as  a  class.  It 
makes  you  think  so.  I  shall  be  on  my  guard  against  ev- 
ery newsboy  I  meet,  when  I  go  to  New  York  again,  and 
so  will  you  after  reading  this  story. 

Now  this  suspicion  may  be  unjust  toward  some  of  those 
boys.  There  may  be  some  choice  boys  in  the  class  he 
represented,  and  my  suspicion  of  them  may  be  unjust. — 
Yet  I  can't  help  feeling  it.  My  duty  to  avoid  being  im- 
posed on,  even  in  a  trifle,  will  cause  me  to  deal  with 
them  as  with  boys  who  will  cheat  me  if  they  can.  The 
boy  who  cheated  me  has  thus  done  all  his  fellow  news- 
boys a  great  wrong.  He  has  exposed  them  all  to  be  re- 
garded with  suspicion. 

QUESTIONS    FOR    ILLUSTRATION. 

1.  Is  it  right  to  tell  what  we  know  is  not  true? 

2.  Are  there  any  other  ways  of  telling  a  falsehood,  ex- 
cept by  words? 

3.  Could  deaf  and  dumb  persons  who  talk  with  their 
fingers,  tell  a  lie  with  their  fingers? 

4.  If  I  had  lost  my  pencil  and  you  had  found  it,  and  I 
should  inquire  if  you  had  seen  it,  and  you  should  shake 
your  head,  would  that  be  telling  a  lie? 


TRUTHFULNESS.  57 

5.  Suppose  I  had  lost  my  knife  and  pencil,  and  you 
should  find  them  both,  and  I  should  inquire  for  them,  and 
you  should  say  that  you  had  found  my  knife,  but  should 
say  nothing  about  the  pencil,  would  this  be  right? — 
Would  it  be  as  bad  as  telling  a  lie? 

6.  Suppose  you  had  whispered  or  played  in  school, 
and  I  should  ask  all  to  arise,  who  had  whispered  or  played, 
and  you  should  remain  in  your  seat,  would  that  be  equal 
to  telling  a  falsehood  1 

7.  Suppose  you  were  playing,  and  the  teacher  should 
turn  to  look  at  you,  and  you  should  suddenly  stop,  and 
pretend  you  had  all  the  time  been  still,  would  this  be  the 
same  as  telling  your  teacher  a  falsehood1? 

8.  Would  it  be  right  to  tell  a  falsehood  to  save  yourself 
or  another  from  being  punished  \ 

9.  Jf  you  were  very  hungry,  or  thirsty,  would  it  be 
right  to  tell  a  lie  to  get  food  or  drink? 

10.  Would  it  be  right  to  tell  a  falsehood  to  gain  a  thou- 
sand dollars? 

11.  How  much  did  the  boy  make  by  telling  a  lie  to 
sell  his  newspaper  ? 

12.  Which  do  you  think  would  be  the  greater  crimi- 
nal, the  dishonest  boy  who  would  tell  a  lie  to  save  three 
cents,  or  the  dishonest  mail  who  would  tell  a  lie  to  save 
a  thousand  dollars? 

13.  But  perhaps  this  poor  newsboy  had  paid  for  a  large 
number  of  the  morning  edition  of  his  paper,  which  he 
would  have  to  lose  if  he  did  not  sell  immediately.     If  he 

8 


58  ELEMENTARY    MORAL    LESSONS. 

was  very  poor,  and  perhaps  hungry  and  cold,  would  it  be 
right  to  sell  his  old  papers  to  save  himself  from  loss'? 

14.  But  if  he  had  offered  his  papers  for  sale  in  the 
evening,  without  saying  whether  it  was  the  morning,  or 
evening  edition,  while  all  who  would  purchase  would  sup- 
pose it  was  the  evening  paper,  would  that  have  been  right? 

15.  If  this  hoy  had  been  very  poor,  and  very  ragged, 
and  very  cold,  and  very  hungry,  what  would  you  have 
advised  him  to  do  with  his  old  papers'? 

16.  Under  what  circumstances  are  children  and  others 
most  likely  to  tell  what  is  not  true? 


NARRATIVE. 

Acting  Lies. — "Jane,  go  into  the  store-room  closet, 
and  fetch  me  the  large  blue  jar,"  said  a  mother  to  her  lit- 
tle girl.  Jane  put  down  her  books,  for  she  was  going  to 
school,  and  ran  to  the  closet,  where  the  first  thing  she  saw 
was  a  basket  of  large  red  apples.  "I  should  like  one  of 
these  to  carry  to  school,"  she  thought,  but  she  did  not 
know  whether  her  mother  would  think  it  best  for  her  to 
have  one;  so  instead  of  asking,  she  slipped  the  biggest 
she  saw  into  her  pocket,  and  covered  her  pocket  over 
with  her  shawl,  lest  her  mother  should  see  it.  Jane  then 
took  the  jar  to  her  mother,  and  went  to  school  with  the 
apple,  which  proved  to  be  a  hard  winter  apple,  unfit  to 
be  eaten. 

By  and  by  J  ane's  class  in  History  was  called  up  to  re- 
cite, and  Jane  was  quite  particular  about  getting  her  seat 
behind  the  stove,  rather  out  of  the  way  of  the  teacher's 
eye.     .lane  had  her  History  in  her  hand,  with  her  pencil 


TRUTHFULNESS.  59 

between  the  pages  of  the  lesson,  and  every  now  and  then, 
watching  her  chance,  she  peeped  into  the  book,  but  when 
the  teacher  glanced  that  way.  she  looked  up  as  innocently 
as  could  be. 

School  was  dismissed  a  little  earlier  than  usual,  and 
Helen  Brewster  went  home  with  her  to  get  a  book  which 
Jane  promised  to  lend  her;  but  she  did  not  want  to  let 
her  mother  know  that  school  was  done,  lest  her  mother 
might  want  her  to  play  with  baby,  or  to  help  her  in  some 
way.  So  she  opened  the  door  very  softly,  and  crept  up 
stairs  on  tiptoe.  A  call  from  the  sitting-room,  "Jane,  is 
that  you?''  It  was  her  mothers  voice,  but  Jane  made 
believe  she  did  not  hear.  She  crept  down,  and  out  again, 
and  did  not  get  back  for  some  time.  "I  thought  I  heard 
you  come  in  some  time  ago."  said  her  mother;  "I  wish 
it  had  been  you,  for  I  have  needed  you  very  much.  Wil- 
lie has  been  very  sick.""  Jane  said  nothing,  and  how  she 
felt  you  can  perhaps  imagine. 

We  have  followed  Jane  through  a  part  of  the  day,  and 
seen  her  just  as  she  wras,  not  as  she  seemed  to  be  to  her 
mother  and  teacher;  and  what  do  you  think  of  her? — 
There  are  many  children  like  J  ane,  and  perhaps  they  will 
see  themselves  in  her.  Jane,  you  see,  wras  not  a  truthful 
child.  "But  she  did  not  tell  any  lie."  some  one  will  say. 
No,  but  she  acted  lies,  and  you  see  in  how  many  things 
she  deceived  in  half  a  day's  time.  "Little  things."  per- 
haps you  will  say.  But  it  is  little  things  which  show  what 
we  really  are.  and  which  make  up  the  character.  Then- 
is  no  habit  more  dangerous  than  the  habit  of  deceiving 
in  little  things,  because  so  easily  fallen  into.  Let  every 
child  who  reads  this  examine  her  conduct,  and  see  if  she 
is  in  danger  of  sliding  into  it.  All  deceit  is  displeasing 
to  God. 


60  ELEMENTARY    MORAL    LESSONS. 

17.  In  the  preceding  narrative,  how  many  times  was 
Jane  really  guilty  of  falsehood? 

18.  When  she  heard  her  mother  call  her,  and  yet  re- 
mained silent,  did  she  intend  her  mother  should  under- 
stand that  she  was  not  in  the  room? 

19.  Which  is  the  more  criminal,  to  tell  a  lie  in  words, 
or,  to  tell  a  lie  by  keeping  silent? 

20.  May  persons  tell  what  is  strictly  true,  and  yet  not 
tell  the  truth? 


NARRATIVE. 

Getting  over  it  Finely. — "Why,  Alfred,  how  could 
you  tell  mother  that  wrong  story?"  said  Lucy  Somersto 
her  brother.  "You  know  you  did  eat  one  of  the  apples 
that  was  in  the  fruit  dish,  yet  you  told  mother  you  did 
not." 

"  Now,  Lucy,  I  did'nt  tell  any  lie  about  it  at  all.  You 
know  mother  asked  me  if  I  took  one  of  the  apples  from 
the  dish,  and  I  said  No.  And  that  was  true;  for  the  ap- 
ple rolled  off  from  the  top  of  the  dish,  when  I  hit  the  ta- 
ble, and  I  picked  it  up  from  the  floor.  Mother  didn't  ask 
me  if  I  ate  one,  but  if  I  took  one  from  the  dish.  So  you 
see  I  got  along  finely  ivith  it,  and  told  nothing  but  the 
truth." 

Yes,  but  the  boy  knew  that  he  meant  to  deceive  his 
mother,  and  that  made  it  a.  falsehood.  I  don't  think  he 
will  get  along  so  finely  with  his  own  conscience,  or  with 
Him  who  searches  and  tries  the  heart.  God  knows  what 
we  mean,  as  well  as  what  ive  say. 

21.  The  boy,  in  the  last  narrative,  was  quite  confident 


TRUTHFULNESS.  61 

he  had  told  nothing  but  the  truth.     What  do  you  per- 
ceive in  his  conduct  that  was  wrong? 


VARIED   APPLICATION   OF   EIGHT   PRINCIPLES. 
QUESTIONS  FOR  SPECIAL  AND  GENERAL  REVIEW. 

1.  For  what  purpose  does  any  one  ever  tell  a  falsehood? 

2.  Can  you  think  of  any  cases  where  falsehoods  have 
been  told  where  there  was  not  some  guilt  to  be  concealed? 

3.  When  we  have  neglected  some  duty,  or  have  been 
involved  in  some  difficulty,  shall  we  be  likely  to  blame 
ourselves? 

4.  In  giving  an  account  of  our  neglect  of  duty,  or  of 
our  difficulties  with  others,  if  we  mention  all  the  faults 
of  others,  and  omit  to  mention  all  of  our  own,  of  what 
wrong  would  we  be  guilty? 

5.  Will  telling  a  lie  be  the  only  wrong  of  which  we 
should  be  guilty  in  such  a  case? 

6.  Which  do  you  think  the  greater  -wrong,  to  do  in- 
justice, intentionally,  to  others,  or  to  tell  what  you  know 
is  not  true? 

7.  Have  you  ever  heard  or  read  of  persons  who  would 
sooner  suffer  death  than  tell  a  lie? 


LESSON  VIII 


DO  GOOD  TO  ALL,  AS  YOU  HAVE  OPPORTUNITY. 


NARRATIVE. 

Money  well  Expended. — Capt.  S.  C.  8.,  of  Portland, 
was  one  clay  passing  through  one  of  the  streets  in  Boston, 
when  he  saw  a  poor  sailor  lying  on  the  side- walk,  with 
his  feet  in  the  gutter,  in  such  a  position  as  to  endanger 
his  limbs,  if  not  his  life.  Capt.  S.  pulled  him  out  of  the 
gutter,  aroused  him,  and  by  degrees  got  his  history.  He 
was  from  a  good  family  who  resided  in  the  eastern  part 
of  Maine,  had  been  well  educated,  and  exhibited  now  the 
wreck  of  a  brilliant  intellect  and  amiable,  disposition. — 
He  had  been  sick,  he  said,  had  staid  his  time  out  in  the 
Charlestown  Hospital,  and  had  that  morning  been  dis- 
charged without  a  cent,  and  in  so  feeble  a  state  as  to  dis- 
qualify him  to  go  to  sea  again  at  present.  "Then  why 
don't  you  go  home?"  said  Capt.  S.  "I  cannot  pay  my 
passage;  I  have  no  money,"  answered  the  desponding 
sailor.  "Have  you  found  anybody  that  would  give 
you  any  breakfast?"  said  the  Captain.  "No,"  was  the 
reply,  "but  I  found  a  man  who  gave  me  something  to 
drink,  and,  as  I  was  very  weak  and  very  hungry,  the  liq- 
uor overcame  me;  but  I  am  not  very  much  intoxicated. 
as  I  seem  to  be;  I  have  my  senses  perfectly  well." — 
"How  much  will  take  you  home,"  inquired  the  Captain. 
"There  is,"  said  the  tar,  "a  vessel  lying  at  the  wharf, 
which  will  take  me  within  two  miles  of  my  home  for  one 


DOING  GOOD.  t>3 

dollar,  and  1  would  go  if  I  only  had  the  money. :"  "Now. 
shipmate,"  continued  Capt.  S.,  "give  us  your  hand. — 
Look  me  straight  in  the  eye.  Now  promise  me,  upon 
the  honor  of  a  sailor,  that  you  will  never  drink  any  more 
of  the  poison  stuff,  and  I'll  give  you  some  breakfast  and 
pay  your  passage  home.  "  The  sailor  clasped  his  emaci- 
ated fingers  around  the  rough  hand  of  the  Captain,  and 
pronounced  the  pledge.  Captain  S.  handed  him  a  bill, 
and  saw  him  safe  in  the  nearest  public  house,  and  went 
his  way. 

Some  three  years  after,  as  Capt.  S.  was  passing  along 
Exchange  street,  in  Portland,  some  one  behind  him  called 
out — "Cap'n;  I  say  Cap'n:  Hallo,  Cap'n. "  Captain  S. 
turned  round,  and  a  well  dressed  stranger  grasped  him  by 
the  hand,  and  inquired  if  he  knew  him.  He  confessed  he 
did  not  recollect  ever  to  have  seen  him  before.  The 
stranger,  after  several  ineffectual  attempts  to  refresh  his 
memory,  finally  brought  to  his  recollection  the  scene 
narrated  above,  and  confessed  that  he  was  the  sailor  to 
whom  he  had  thus  acted  the  part  of  the  Samaritan,  and 
insisted  on  restoring  four-fold  for  the  money  which  had 
been  bestowed  on  that  occasion.  All  remuneration  was 
refused,  and  the  young  man  was  exhorted  to  go  and  do 
likewise.  "I  will  with  all  my  heart,"  said  he,  as  the 
tears  gathered  to  his  eyes,  "but  I  owe  fou  a  debt  that  I 
can  never  discharge.  I  have  never  broken  my  pledge, 
and  by  the  help  of  God  I  never  will.  I  went  home  after 
you  left  me,  and  by  the  entreaty  of  my  friends,  I  con? 
menced  trading,  and  am  now  here  to  purchase  goods.  I 
have  been  prospered  in  business,  and  have  lately  been 
united  to  the  woman  of  my  choice.  You  have  saved  my 
soul  and  body;  for  I  have  lately  been  made  acquainted 
with  the  blessed  Savior  of  sinners.  O,  if  my  poor  old 
father  could  get  hold  of  your  hand,  he  would   almost 


64  ELEMENTARY    MORAL    LESSONS. 

wring  it  from  your  body  for  gratitude. "  The  generous 
heart  of  the  Captain  was  melted,  for  he  loved  the  Savior 
too.  The  flood-gates  of  his  soul  were  opened,  and  they 
wept  together  like  two  children,  shook  hands  again,  and 
exchanged  a  hearty  "God  bless  you,"  and  parted. 


1.  Are  opportunities  for  doing  good  common,  or  rare? 
*2.  In  what  manner  may  persons  do  good  to  others'? 

3.  What  do  you  consider  would  be  the  best  possible 
deed  that  one  person  could  do  for  another? 

4.  Which  would  you  think  the  better  method  of  doing 
good  to  others,  to  perform  the  acts  of  kindness  yourself, 
or  give  money  to  others  to  enable  them  to  perform  the 
same  acts  of  kindness? 

5.  Do  children  ever  have  opportunities  for  doing  good 
in  any  manner? 

6.  Do  persons,  who  are  very  poor,  and  very  needy, 
and  very  ignorant  themselves,  ever  have  any  opportuni- 
ties for  doing  good? 

7.  What  class  of  persons  in  the  world  are  entirely  pre- 
vented from  doing  good  to  others  in  any  manner? 

S.  Who  have  the  best  opportunities  tor  doing  good  '. 

9.  Have  you  ever  heard  or  read  of  persons  who  seemed 
to  devote  their  whole  lives  to  the  work  of  making  others 
happy?  What  men  have  yon  known  or  read  of? — What 
women  ? 

ers  to  as  many  enjoyments  as  we  possibly  can.  or  help 
ourselves  to  every  gratification  within  our  power? 


DOING  GOOD. 


66 


10.  Which  affords  the  higher  satisfaction,  to  help  oth- 
ers to  as  many  enjoyments  as  we  possibly  can,  or  help 
ourselves  to  every  gratification  within  our  power? 

11.  Which  probably  afforded  the  purer  enjoyment  to 
Capt.  S.,  in  the  narrative,  the  pleasure  of  earning  a  dol- 
lar, or  that  of  giving  to  the  poor,  friendless  sailor  the 
same  amount'? 

12.  Did  Captain  S.  do  the  sailor  good  in  any  other 
way  than  by  giving  him  a  dollar'?     In  what  way? 

13.  Which  do  you  think  did  the  sailor  the  more  good, 
the  dollar  and  the  breakfast,  or  the  kind  words  of  en- 
couragement and  the  earnest  invitation  of  the  captain  to 
make  the  temperance  pledge? 

14.  We  cannot  always  help  others  as  we  would  like 
to  do,  without  making  some  sacrifices  ourselves.  What 
is  to  be  done  in  such  a  case? 


NARRATIVE. 

Truth  stranger  than  Fiction. — A  young  man  recent- 
ly made  his  escape  from  the  galleys  at  Toulouse.  He 
was  strong  and  vigorous,  and  soon  made  his  way  across 
the  country,  and  escaped  pursuit.  He  arrived  the  next 
morning  before  a  cottage  in  an  open  field,  and  stopped  to 
beg  something  to  eat,  and  concealment,  while  he  reposed 
a  little.  But  he  found  the  inmates  of  the  cottage  in  the 
greatest  distress.  Four  little  children  sat  trembling-  in  a 
corner — their  mother  was  weeping  and  tearing  her  hair 
— and  the  father  walking  the  floor  in  agony.  The  galley 
slave  asked  what  was  the  matter,  and  the  father  replied 

9 


66  ELEMENTARY    MORAL    LESSONS. 

that  they  were  that  .morning  to  be  turned  out  of  doors, 
because  they  could  not  pay  their  rent.  "You  see  me 
driven  into  despair,"  said  the  father,  "my  wife  and  little 
children  without  food  or  shelter,  and  I  without  the  means 
to  provide  any  for  them."  The  convict  listened  to  this 
tale  with  tears  of  sympathy,  and  then  said : 

"I  will  give  you  the  means.  I  have  but  just  escaped 
from  the  galleys,  whoever  secures  and  takes  back  an  es- 
caped prisoner,  is  entitled  to  a  reward  of  fifty  francs. — 
How  much  does  your  rent  amount  to'?" 

"Forty  francs,"  answered  the  father. 

"Well,"  said  the  other,  "put  a  cord  around  my  body. 
I  will  follow  you  to  the  city;  they  will  recognize  me,  and 
you  will  get  fifty  francs  for  bringing  me  back." 

"No,  never!"  exclaimed  the  astonished  listener;  "my 
children  should  starve  a  dozen  times  before  I  would  do 
so  base  a  thing ! " 

The  generous  young  man  insisted,  and  declared  at  last 
that  he  would  go  and  give  himself  up,  if  the  father  would 
not  consent  to  take  him.  After  a  long  struggle  the  latter 
yielded,  and,  taking  his  preserver  by  the  arm,  led  him  to 
the  city  and  to  the  mayor's  office.  Every  body  was  sur- 
prised that  a  little  man  like  the  father,  had  been  able  to 
capture  such  a  strong  young  fellow — but  the  proof  was 
before  them.  The  fifty  francs  were  paid,  and  the  prison- 
er sent  back  to  the  galleys.  But  after  he  was  gone,  the 
lather  asked  a  private  interview  with  the  mayor,  to  whom 
he  told  the  whole  story.  The  mayor  was  so  much  affec- 
ted, that  lie  not  only  added  fifty  francs  more  to  the  fa- 
ther's purse,  but  wrote  immediately  to  the  Minister  of 
Justice,  begging  the  noble  young  prisoner's  release.  The 
Minister  examined  into  the  affair,  and,  finding  that  it  was 
comparatively  a  small  offence  which  had  condemned  the 


DOING    GOOD.  0/ 

young  man  to  the  galleys,  and  that  he  had  already  served 
out  half  his  time,  he  ordered  his  release.  Is  not  the 
whole  incident  beautiful? 


15.  Which  do  you  think  affords  us  the  purer  pleasure, 
to  do  kind  acts  to  others  when  it  costs  little  or  no  sacri- 
fice, or  when  it  costs  us  great  self-denial  to  render  others 
assistance? 

16.  If  the  galley  slave,  spoken  of  in  the  last  narrative, 
had  given  this  poor  man  fifty  francs  of  his  own  earnings, 
would  it  have  given  him  as  great  satisfaction  as  aiding 
him  by  surrendering  his  own  personal  liberty? 


VAKIED  APPLICATION  OF  EIGHT  PEINCIPLES. 


QUESTIONS    FOR    SPECIAL  AND  GENERAL  REVIEW. 

1 .  hi  what  maimer  may  persons  help  others,  who  have 
neither  money  nor  property  to  give? 

2.  If  you  were  to  speak  kind  words  of  encouragement 
to  the  sorrowful  and  the  unfortunate,  in  what  way  might 
you  benefit  them? 

3.  If  you  should  possess  the  courage  to  do  right,  when 
all  around  you  were  inclined,  strongly,  to  do  wrong,  in 
what  way  might  you  benefit  others? 

4.  If  you  were  known,  in  any  case,  to  repay  a  severe 
injury,  with  a  kind  act,  in  what  way  might  you  benefit 
others  ? 


68 


ELEMENTARY    MORAL    LESSONS. 


5.  If,  before  your  brothers  and  sisters,  and  associates, 
you  should  always  honor  and  obey  your  parents,  in  what 
way  might  you  be  doing  good  to  others? 

6.  Why  may  we  not  neglect  any  opportunities  to  do 
good? 

7.  If  we  practice  aiding  the  unfortunate,  and  helping 
others  all  we  can,  will  our  love  for  doing  good  grow 
stronger,  or  weaker? 

8.  Which  would  you  think  the  better  man,  the  one 
that  does  the  greatest  amount  of  good  to  others,  or  the 
one  that  loves  the  better  to  do  good?  Which  of  the  two 
would  you  think  the  happier  man? 

9.  When  we  have  lived  out  all  of  our  days,  which 
will  afford  us  the  greater  satisfaction,  to  think  that  we 
have  secured  for  ourselves  all  the  comforts  and  enjoyments 
of  this  world,  or  secured  as  many  as  possible  of  these 
for  others? 


LESSON  IX 


SPEAK  EVIL  OF  NO  ONE. 


NARRATIVE. 


The  Lost  Brooch. — The  following  incident  will  help 
to  show  how  very  careful  we  ought  to  be  not  to  judge 
from  appearances  alone,  but  to  grant  to  others  the  same 
charitable  consideration  we  would  enjoy  ourselves. 


EVIL    SPEAKING.  69 

In  summer,  our  country  home  is  often  visited  by  our 
city  friends,  and  we  enjoy  their  brief  sojourn  with  us. — 
Some  time  since,  a  dear  friend  of  my  mother  came  to 
pass  several  months.  She  brought  her  only  child,  a  lovely 
boy,  just  old  enough  to  run  alone,  and  to  fill  the  house 
with  his  childish  glee.  His  nurse  was  a  good-natured 
Irish  woman.  She  was  rather  noisy  and  officious;  the 
house  and  garden  she  ransacked  at  pleasure ;  and  in  the 
farm-house  she  made  herself  particularly  free.  But  she 
was  kind  and  faithful  to  her  little  charge,  and  for  that 
reason  much  valued  by  the  child's  mother. 

Soon,  our  farmer's  daughter,  Mrs.  M ,  came  home 

to  make  her  annual  visit,  bringing  her  little  boy,  about 
the  age  of  our  little  visitor.  Master  Eddie  liked  a  play 
fellow,  and  Bridget's  visit  to  the  farm-house  became  still 
more  frequent. 

One  day  Mrs.  M came  with  an  anxious  face  to 

my  mother  to  ask  if  she  thought  Bridget  perfectly  hon- 
est. We  were  startled  at  the  question,  for  we  had  never 
doubted  her  honesty,  and  knew  that  her  mistress  trusted 

her   implicitly.     Mrs.  M said  that  she  had  lost  a 

brooch,  and  she  was  sure  Bridget  had  taken  it ;  indeed 
so  indignant  and  excited  was  she,  that  I  think  nothing  but 
her  regard  for  my  mother  prevented  her  accusing  Bridget 
of  the  theft. 

She  had  been  out  walking,  and  when  she  returned,  took 
out  her  brooch  and  laid  it  on  the  table.  Bridget  soon 
came  in  with  Eddie,  and  stayed  some  time;  after  she 

left,  Mrs  M wanted  her  brooch,  and  it  was  gone! — 

They  searched  everywhere;  the  table  was  moved,  the 
drawers  emptied,  the  carpet  swept,  even  the  rag-bag  was 
turned  inside  out,  and  its  contents  carefully  examined, 
because  she  remembered  to  have  put  some  pieces  in  it 
while  Bridget  was  there.     But  the  brooch  was  not  to  be 


70  ELEMENTARY    MORAL    LESSONS. 

found;  it  could  not  have  gone  without  hands,  and  nobody 
was  there  but  Bridget.  We  were  all  very  much  troubled, 
but  my  mother  concluded  it  was  not  best  to  say  anything 
to  her  friend  about  it;  she  was  away  from  home,  and 
could  not,  without  a  great  deal  of  vexation,  get  another 
nurse,  Besides,  though  appearances  were  much  against 
Bridget,  we  still  hoped  the  brooch  would  be  found. 

Time  passed  on,  and  Mrs.  M left  for  her  western 

home,  firmly  believing  that  Bridget  had  her  brooch. — 
Our  pleasant  friend  with  her  darling  boy  left  us,  and 
Bridget,  quite  unsuspicious  of  our  hard  thoughts,  bade  us 
good-bye  cheerfully,  glad  to  return  to  her  city  compan- 
ions. We  settled  into  our  quiet  winter  habits,  with  our 
books  and  work. 

One  cold  day  the  farmer  came  home  for  a  pair  of 
woollen  socks.  His  wife  told  him  they  were  in  a  bag  in 
the  closet.  There  were  two  bags  hanging  there;  one  was 
a  rag-bag,  the  other  contained  his  socks.  He  hastily  put 
his  hand  into  the  bag,  and  pulled  out,  not  a  pair  of  socks, 
but  a  handful  of  pieces,  with  the  long-lost  brooch !     Mrs. 

M had  put  her  rags  into  the  wrong  bag,   and  the 

brooch  with  them. 


QUESTIONS    FOR    ILLUSTRATION. 

1.  When  our  friends  or  strangers  seem  to  treat  us  with 
neglect  or  disrespect,  is  it  always  certain  that  they  intend 
to  do  so? 

2.  If  persons  seem  to  do  wrong,  or  omit  to  do  what 
we  think  is  right,  is  it  always  certain  that  their  motives 
are  bad  ? 

3.  Will  it  be  safe  for  us  to  speak  harshly  of  the  acts 


EVIL    SPEAKING  71 

of  others,  while  we  do  not  positively  know  their  motives? 

4.  In  the  narrative  just  given,  was  the  family  to  blame 
for  suspecting  that  the  servant  girl  had  stolen  the  brooch'? 

5.  Would  it  have  been  right,  under  all  the  circumstan- 
ces, for  any  one  of  them  to  have  charged  Bridget  with 
stealing  the  brooch? 

6.  As  Bridget  had  never  been  known  to  steal  before, 
would  it  have  been  right  for  any  one  of  the  family  to  have 
mentioned  to  some  intimate  neighbor,  that  Bridget  would 
steal? 

7.  If  the  family  had  united  in  publicly  charging  Bridg- 
et with  stealing,  under  the  circumstances  stated  in  the 
narrative,  and  had  afterwards  learned  that  she  was  not  in 
any  maimer  guilty,  what  would  then  have  been  the  duty 
of  the  family? 

8.  Would  it  have  been  possible  for  the  family,  or  is  it 
possible  for  any  one,  to  counteract  all  the  consequences 
of  wrong  acts? 

9.  If  the  servant  girl  had  really  stolen  the  brooch  and 
confessed  it,  what  would  have  been  the  duty  of  the  fami- 
ly, in  case  she  seemed  really  penitent? 

10.  Would  it  probably  help  to  reform  any  one  who 
had  once  been  guilty  of  stealing,  to  be  publicly  exposed? 


NARRATIVE. 


Kindness  the  Best  Punishment. — A  Quaker,  of  ex- 
emplary character,  was  disturbed  at  night  by  footsteps 


72  ELEMENTARY    MORAL    LESSONS. 

around  his  dwelling,  and  he  arose  from  his  bed,  and  cau- 
tiously opened  a  back  door  to  reconnoiter.  Close  by  was 
an  out-house,  and  under  it  a  cellar,  near  a  window  of 
which  was  a  man  busily  engaged  in  receiving  the  con- 
tents of  his  pork  barrel  from  another  within  the  cellar. 
The  old  man  approached,  and  the  man  outside  fled.  He 
stepped  to  the  cellar  window,  and  received  the  pieces  of 
pork  from  the  thief  within,  who  after  a  little  while  asked 
the  supposed  accomplice  in  a  whisper,  "Shall  we  take  it 
aH?"  The  owner  of  the  pork  said  softly,  "Yes,  take  it 
all ; "  and  the  thief  industriously  handed  up  the  remain- 
der through  the  window  and  then  came  up  himself.  Im- 
agine the  consternation,  when,  instead  of  greeting  his 
companion  in  crime,  he  was  confronted  by  the  Quaker. 
Both  were  astonished;  for  the  thief  proved  to  be  a  near 
neighbor,  whom  none  would  have  suspected  of  such  con- 
duct. He  pleaded  for  mercy,  begged  the  old  man  not  to 
expose  him,  spoke  of  the  necessities  of  poverty,  and  prom- 
ised never  to  steal  again. 

"If  thou  hadst  asked  me  for  meat,"  said  the  old  man, 
"It  would  have  been  given  thee.  I  pity  thy  poverty  and 
thy  weakness,  and  esteem  thy  family.  Thou  art  for- 
given." 

The  thief  was  greatly  rejoiced,  and  was  about  to  depart, 
when  the  old  man  said,  "Take  the  pork,  neighbor." 

"No,  no,"  said  the  thief,  "I  don't  want  your  pork." 

"Thy  necessity  was  so  great  that  it  led  thee  to  steal: 
One  half  of  this  pork  thou  must  take  with  thee." 

The  thief  insisted  that  he  could  never  eat  a  morsel  of 
it.  The  thought  of  the  crime  would  make  it  choke  him. 
He  begged  the  privilege  of  letting  it  alone.  But  the  old 
man  was  inexorable,  and  furnished  the  thief  with  a  bag 
and  half  of  the  pork  put  therein,  and  laying  it  on  his 
back,  sent  him  home  with  it.     Jlic  mot  his  neighbor  daily. 


EVIL    SPEAKING.  78 

for  many  years  afterwards,  and  their  families  visited  to- 
gether, but  the  matter  was  kept  a  secret;  and  though  in 
after  time  the  circumstance  was  mentioned,  the  name  of 
the  delinquent  was  never  known.  The  punishment  was 
severe  and  effectual.  It  was  probably  the  first,  it  was 
certainly  the  last  attempt  of  his  to  steal. 

Had  the  man  been  arraigned  before  a  court  of  justice, 
and  imprisoned  for  the  petty  theft,  how  different  might 
have  been  the  result!  His  family  disgraced,  their  peace 
destroyed,  the  man's  character  ruined,  and  his  spirit  bro- 
ken. Revenge,  not  penitence,  would  have  swayed  his 
heart,  the  scorn  of  the  world  would  have  darkened  his 
future,  and  in  all  probability  he  would  have  entered  upon 
a  course  of  crime  at  which,  when  the  first  offence  was 
committed  his  soul  would  have  shuddered.  And  what 
would  the  owner  of  the  pork  have  gained?  Absolutely 
nothing!  Kindness  was  the  best  punishment,  for  it  saved 
while  it  punished. 

11.  What  course  would  most  persons  have  pursued, 
if  they  had  detected  a  neighbor  in  the  act  of  stealing,  as 
the  Quaker  did? 

12.  Would  the  Quaker  have  been  any  better,  or  any 
richer,  or  any  happier  man,  if  he  had  publicly  exposed 
the  conduct  of  this  neighbor1? 

13.  What  would  probably  have  been  the  effect  upon 
the  man  and  his  family,  if  the  Quaker  had  spoken  of  this 
matter  to  a  few  intimate  friends? 

14.  When  we  positively  knmv  that  others  have  faults, 
what  is  always  the  better  course  for  us  to  pursue? 

15.  Have  you  ever  known  cases  where  those  who  have 


74  ELEMENTARY    MORAL    LESSORS. 

spoken  harshly  and  unkindly  of  the  conduct  or  motives 
of  others,  have,  at  the  same  time,  abused  their  best  friends? 


NARRATIVE. 

Good  for  Evil. — An  old  man,  of  the  name  of  Guyot, 
lived  and  died  in  the  town  of  Marseilles,  in  France:  he 
amassed  a  large  fortune  by  the  most  laborious  industry, 
and  the  severest  habits  of  abstinence  and  privation. — 
His  neighbors  considered  him  a  miser,  and  thought  he 
was  hoarding  up  money  from  mean  and  avaricious  motives. 
The  populace  pursued  him,  whenever  he  appeared,  with 
hootings  and  execrations,  and  the  boys  sometimes  threw 
stones  at  him.  In  his  will  were  found  the  following 
words: — "Having  observed,  from  my  infancy,  that  the 
poor  of  Marseilles  are  ill-supplied  with  water,  which  can 
only  be  purchased  at  a  great  price,  I  have  cheerfully  la- 
bored, the  whole  of  my  life,  to  procure  for  them  this 
great  blessing;  and  I  direct  that  the  whole  of  my  prop- 
erty shall  be  laid  out  in  building  an  aqueduct  for  that 
purpose. " 


16.  Suppose  the  old  man  of  Marseilles,  spoken  of  in 
the  last  narrative,  had  really  been  a  miser,  would  that 
have  been  a  sufficient  excuse  for  anybody  to  abuse  him? 
— to  speak  unkindly  of  him? 

17.  Does  it  increase  or  diminish  our  enjoyments,  to 
receive  favors  from  those  we  know  we  have  deeply 
wronged? 

18.  Which  was  probably  the  greater  sufferer  for  the 


EVIL    SPEAKING.  75 

abuse  of  the  old  man  of  Marseilles,  the  old  man  himself, 
or  the  people  he  benefitted? 

19.  In  the  narrative  of  the  Quaker  and  his  neighbor. 
in  what  maimer  was  the  Quaker  benefitted  by  not  expos- 
ing the  crime  of  his  neighbor  ? 


VARIED  APPLICATION   OF   RIGHT  PRINCIPLES. 
QUESTIONS  FOR  SPECIAL  AND  GENERAL  REVIEW. 

1.  When  persons  speak  ill  of  others,  do  those  who 
thus  speak  derive  any  benefit?  Do  those  who  listen 
derive  any  benefit?  Do  the  slandered  persons  derive 
any  benefit?      Wlio  does  derive  any  benefit? 

2.  Is  the  person  who  slanders  another,  himself  injured 
in  any  way?     How? 

3.  Are  persons  who  listen  to  slanders,  the  sufferers  in 
any  way?     In  what  way? 

4.  Are  slandered  persons  the  sufferers  in  any  way? — 
In  what  way? 

5.  When  your  associates  begin  to  speak  unkindly  of 
others,  in  your  presence,  what  would  you  consider  to  be 
your  duty? 

6.  But  suppose  you  know  they  are  telling  only  the 
truth,  would  it  be  well  to  listen  to  them? — to  remind 
them  of  their  duty  to  the  absent  ? 

7.  Will  those  who  know  our  faults  best,  and  feel  most 
anxious  to  aid  us  in  correcting  them,  be  more,  or  less  likely 
to  speak  of  them  to  others? 


76  ELEMENTARY    MORAL    LESSONS. 

8.  Some  persons  speak  of  the  faults  of  their  best 
friends,  to  one  or  two  other  particular  friends,  and  charge 
them  never  to  tell  anybody  else.  What  would  you  think 
of  this  habit? 

9.  Which  do  you  think  are  generally  the  greater  suf- 
ferers, the  slandered  persons,  or  the  slanderers? 

10.  What  is  the  best  possible  course  for  everybody  to 
pursue,  respecting  the  faults  of  others?  (Never  to  make 
them  a  subject  of  conversation,  except  from  a  clear  sense 
of  duty.) 

11.  Will  it  be  easy  to  always  practice  the  above  rule? 
Is  it 'possible  for  us  to  do  so? 

12.  But  if  persons  will  speak  unkindly  of  you,  how 
can  you  escape  injury  from  their  slanders?  (Live  so 
that  nobody  will  believe  them.) 


LESSON  X 


CAREFULLY   LISTEN    TO   CONSCIENCE,  AND  ALWAYi 
OBEY  ITS  COMMANDS. 


NARRATIVE. 


The   Gold  Sovereign.  —  "When  1   was    only    eight 

years  old,"    said   Judge   N ,   "my  father  and    my 

mother  being  poor,  with  half  a  dozen  children  better  than 
myself  to  take  care  of,  I  was  given  to  a  farmer  in  the 


CONSCIENCE.  77 

town  of  F ,  who  designed  making  a  plough  boy   of 

me,  and  keeping  me  in  his  service  until  I  was  of  age. 

"Well,  I  had  not  a  very  gay  time  in  Deacon  Webb's 
service :  for  although  he  was  an  honest  deacon,  and  a  tol- 
erably kind  man  in  his  family,  he  believed  in  making- 
boys  work,  and  understood  how  to  avoid  spoiling  them 
by  indulgence. 

"So  I  had  plenty  of  work  to  do  and  an  abundant  lack 
of  indulgence  to  enjoy.  It  was  consequently  a  great 
treat  for  me  to  get  the  enormous  sum  of  one  or  two  pen- 
nies into  my  possession  by  any  sort  of  good  fortune — a 
circumstance  of  such  rare  occurrence,  that  at  the  age  of 
eleven  I  had  learned  to  regard  money  as  a  blessing  be- 
stowed by  Providence  only  on  a  favorite  few. 

"Well,  I  had  lived  with  Deacon  Webb  three  years 
before  I  knew  the  color  of  any  coin  except  vile  copper. 
By  an  accident  I  learned  the  color  of  gold.  That  is  the 
story  I  am  going  to  tell  you. 

One  Saturday  night,  Mr.  Webb  sent  me  to  the  village 
store  on  an  errand;  and,  on  returning  home,  just  about 
dusk,  my  attention  was  attracted  by  a  little  brown  pack- 
age, lying  on  the  road-side. 

"I  picked  it  up  to  examine  its  contents,  without  the 
slightest  suspicion  of  the  treasure  within.  Indeed,  it  was 
so  light,  and  the  volume  of  brown  paper  appeared  so 
large,  that  I  undoubtedly  supposed  that  I  was  the  victim 
of  an  April  fool,  although  it  was  the  month  of  June.  I 
tore  open  the  folds  of  the  paper,  however :  and  discern- 
ing nothing,  I  was  on  the  point  of  throwing  it  into  the 
ditch,  Avhen  something  dropped  out  of  it,  and  fell  with  a 
ringing  sound  upon  a  stone. 

';I  looked  at  it  in  astonishment.  It  was  yellow,  round, 
glittering,  too  bright  and  too  small  for  a  penny;  I  felt  of 
it,  I  squeezed  it  in  my  fingers,  I  spelled  out  the  inscrip- 


.  v  ELEALEXTJlRY   moral  lessons, 

-  .   the  .  at  meH Ins     .       me  that  it 

coin  of  incalculable  value,  at  if  I  did  not  wish  to 

js    it.  I  had  better  po       ~    -    -  -  s]    ssihle, 

*■  Trembling  with  excitement.  I  put  the  coin  in 
pocket.  But  it  would  o  -  stay  there.  Every  two  min- 
utes I  had  to  take  it  out  and  look  at  it.  But.  whenever  I 
met  somebody.  I  carefully  put  it  out  of  sight.  Some- 
how. I  felt  a  guilty  dread  of  finding  an  owner  to  the 
Provided  I  found  none.  I  thought  it  was  honestly  mine, 
by  right  of  discovery:  and  I  eon  lyseJf  with  the 

sophistry  that  it  was  not  my  basins » I     gc  about  the 
streets,  crying.  'Who's  I    - 

"I  went  home  with  the  gold  in  my  pocket.     I  w 
not  have  the  deacon's  folks  know  what  I  had  found,  for  the 
world.     I  was  sorely  troubled  with  the  fear  of  losing  my 

sore.     This  was  not  all.     It 
seemed  to  me  th  it  my  face  I  s&ray  secret.     I  i 

not  I :         ^     /-body  with  an  honest  eye. 

"These  troubles  kept   me  awake  half  the  night,  and 
projects  tor  securing  my  treasure  by  a  safe  in     9f 
the  other  half.     On  the  following  morning.  I  was  fever- 
ish and  nervous*.     When  Deacon  Webb,  at  the  break&st 
tank    - 

-  William!" 

-I   started  _  ords 

would  be : 

"Where  is  that  pk        f gold  you  have  found,  and  - 
edly  i  rightful  owner?" 

"I  want  you  to  go  to  M  tins  mc  ;:iing,  and 

ask  him  if  he       .  id  to 

morrow.  ** 

"I  felt  immensely  re/  ft  :he  house,  an-:.  _ 

f  sight  as  s      tas      ss£ 

•it  of  mx  least  Is  beauty. — 


was  jntiof??.     Cce^rcness  of  wrr^  troubled 

Would  I  not  be  eaDed  a  tme£  if  discovered?  I  asked  my- 
<e££  Was  it  not  as  i^:^  to  conceal  what  I  lad  fcund. 
as  to  take  ike  same  amount  orismally  from  the  •> wn^r*- 

-Why.  if  I  don't  know  who  the  loser  :>.  bow  earn  1 
sive  klm  las  money !  It  is  odr  because  I  am  afiaid 
Deacon  Webb  will  take  it  away  from  me.  that  I  conceal 
it:  that's  aEL  I  would  not  steal  sold:  and  if  the  owner 
c  me  lor  it,  I  would  srce  H  to  mm.  I  apolo- 
S all  the  way  to  Mr.  Bakhrms  boose: 
bai.  after  alLkwom&it  do.  The  sold  was.  Kke  a  heavy 
stone  to  my  heart.  It  was  a  sort  of  unhappy  charm, 
which  save  an  evil  spirit  power  to  torment  me.  And  I 
eonld  not  help  thinking  I  was  not  half  so  well  pleased 

—  ~  i_7 :iv  v.:_  -     -  I  'zji.~_  '  erz.  — m      :  :■?— 

per.  which  I  had  mund  some  weeks  be&re.     Nobody 
■^       ^—7-     -'-     ^-  -  ••--"'     -"     -       i  z'zrr  Zt  ~ 
and  I  had  been  as  happy  as  a  kins — or  as  a  kins 
is  supposed  to  be. 

I  it  Baldwin  was  not  at  home:  and  I  returned  to  the 
deacon's  honse.     I  saw  Mr.  War  "  .  _ 

the  sate,  and  I  was  terribly  gammed.     Mr.  Wardly 

iifi:  so  I  hid  hi  the  garden  mmi  he  went  away.  By  that 
time  reason  began  topsevuO  orer  cowardice,  and  I  made 

■  "-         -        ~~ .  -    "- -.         7  -  '•:- :   -._-.- 


thought  Jl  &e£ns;  fcmt-  he's  90 
Bnt  he  only  scolded  me  r'.-r  being  so  keg  abont  my 


80  ELEMENTARY    MORAL    LESSONS. 

His  severe  words  sounded  sweet,  I  had  expected  some- 
thing so  much  more  terrible. 

"I  worked  all  day  with  the  gold  in  my  pocket.  I 
wonder  Deacon  Webb  did  not  suspect  something,  I  stop- 
ped so  often  to  see  if  the  gold  was  really  there;  for, 
much  as  the  possession  of  it  troubled  me,  the  fear  of 
losing  it  troubled  me  scarcely  less.  I  was  miserable.  I 
wished  a  hundred  times  I  had  not  found  the  gold.  T  felt 
that  it  would  be  a  relief  to  lay  it  down  on  the  road-sid  e ; 
again  I  wrapped  it  in  brown  paper,  just  as  I  had  found  it. 
I  wondered  if  ill-got  wealth  made  everybody  so  miser- 
able. 

"At  night  I  was  sent  again  to  Mr.  Baldwin's,  and,  hav- 
ing found  him,  obtained  his  promise  to  work  at  Deacon 
Webb's  on  the  following  day. 

"It  was  dark  when  I  went  home,  and  I  was  afraid  of 
robbers.  I  never  felt  so  cowardly  in  my  life.  It  seemed 
to  me  that  anybody  could  rob  me  with  a  clear  conscience, 
because  my  treasure  was  not  mine.  I  got  home  and  went 
trembling  to  bed. 

"Mr.  Baldwin  came  early  to  breakfast  with  us.  I 
should  tell  you  something  about  him.  He  was  an  hon- 
est poor  man,  who  supported  a  large  family  by  hard 
work.  Everybody  liked  him,  he  was  so  industrious  and 
faithful ;  and,  besides  making  good  wages  for  his  labor, 
he  often  got  presents  of  meal  and  flour  from  those  who 
employed  him. 

"Well,  at  the  breakfast  table,  after  Deacon  Webb  had 
asked  the  blessing,  and  given  Baldwin  a  piece  of  pork",  so 
that  he  might  eat  and  get  to  work  as  soon  as  possible, 
something  was  said  about  the  'news.' 

"'I  suppose  you  have  heard  about  my  misfortune.' said 
Mr.  Baldwin. 

" '  Your  misfortune ! ' 


CONSCIENCE.  81 

"■Yes/ 

•••Why,  what  has  happened  to  you?'  asked  the  deacon. 

••■I  thought  everybody  had  heard  of  it,'  replied  Bald- 
win'. "You  see,  the  other  night  when  Mr.  Woodly  paid 
me.  he  gave  me  a  gold  piece." 

••1  started,  and  felt  the  blood  forsake  my  cheeks.  All 
eyes  were  fixed  upon  Baldwin,  however,  so  my  my  trou- 
ble was  not  observed. 

"4A  sovereign,"  said  Baldwin,  "the first  one  I  ever  had 
in  my  life;  and  it  seemed  to  me  that  if  I  should  put  it 
in  my  pocket,  like  a  cent,  or  half  dollar,  [  should  lose  it. 
So,  like  a  goose.  I  wrapped  it  in  a  piece  of  paper,  and 
stowed  it  in  my  coat  pocket,  where  I  thought  it  was  safe. 
1  never  did  a  more  foolish  thing.  J  must  have  lost  the 
coin  in  taking  out  my  handkerchief;  and  the  paper  would 
prevent  its  making  any  noise  as  it  fell.  I  discovered  my 
loss  when  I  got  home,  and  went  back  to  look  fin*  it;  but 
somebody  must  have  picked  it  up/ 

"I  felt  like  sinking  through  the  floor. 

••'I  don't  know,"  replied  the  poor  man,  shaking  his  head 
sadly,  -He's  welcome  to  it,  wdioever  he  is;  and  I  hope 
his  conscience  won't  trouble  him  more  than  the  money  is 
worth;  though  Heaven  knows  I  want  my  honest  earnings.* 

"This  was  too  much  for  me.  The  allusion  to  my  con- 
science brought  the  -  gold  out  of  my  pocket.  I  resolved 
to  make  a  clean  breast  of  it,  and  be  honest,  in  spite  of 
poverty  and  shame.  So  I  held  the  gold  in  my  trembling 
hand,  and  said: 

ti;Is  this  yours,  Mr.  Baldwin?' 

"My  voice  was  so  faint  that  he  did  not  hear  me.  So 
I  repeated  my  question  in  a  more  courageous  tone.  All 
eyes  were  turned  upon  me  in  astonishment,  and  the  dea- 
con demanded  when  and  where  I  had  found  the  gold. 

;,I  burst  into  tears,  and  confessed  everything.     1  ex- 
11 


82  ELEMENTARY   MORAL   LESSONS. 

pected  the  deacon  would  whip  me  to  death.  But  he  pat- 
ted my  head,  and  said,  more  kindly  than  was  his  wont : 

"■  Don't  cry  about  it,  William.  You  are  an  honest 
boy,  if  you  did  come  near  falling  into  temptation.  Al- 
ways be  honest,  my  son,  and,  if  you  do  not  grow  rich, 
you  will  be  happy  with  a  clear  conscience.' 

-But  I  cried  still — for  joy.  I  laughed,  too,  the  deacon 
had  so  touched  my  heart.  Of  what  a  load  was  I  relieved ! 
I  felt  then  that  honesty  was  the  best  policy. 

"As  for  Baldwin,  he  declared  that  I  should  have  half 
the  money,  for  finding  it;  but  I  wished  to  keep  clear  of 
the  troublesome  stuff  for  a  time,  and  I  did.  I  would  not 
touch  his  offer;  and  I  never  regretted  it,  boy  as  I  was. 

"Well,  I  was  the  deacon's  favorite  after  this.  He  was 
very  kind  to  me,  and  trusted  me  in  everything.  I  was 
careful  not  to  deceive  him;  I  preserved  the  strictest  can- 
dor and  good  faith;  and  that  has  made  me  what  I  am. — 
When  he  died,  he  willed  me  five  hundred  dollars,  with 
whieh  I  came  here  and  bought  new  lands,  which  are  now 
worth  a  great  many  sovereigns.  But  this  has  nothing  to 
do  with  my  story.  That  is  told ;  and  all  I  have  to  add 
is,  I  have  never  regretted  clearing  my  conscience  of  poor 
Job  Baldwin's  sovereign." 


QUESTIONS  FOlt  ILLUSTRATION. 

1.  What  faculty  tells  as  when  we  do  right  and  when 
we  do  wrong1? 

2,  A  boy  was  oner  in  a  garden  aJone,  among  some 
plum  trees.  He  had  not  taken  any  of  the  fruit;  he  was 
only  tMnking  he  would,  yet  every  time  he  heard  the  least 
noise  like  footsteps,  or  the  rustling  of  leaves,  he  began  to 
tremhU,     Can  anv  one  tell  whfrt  made  him  (rouble* 


n 


CONSCIENCE.  88 

3.  Not  long  since,  some  boys  at  play  near  a  school 
building,  when  they  saw  a  man  walking  quietly  towards 
them,  suddenly  started  and  scampered  away  in  all  direc- 
tions.    What  do  you  suppose  caused  them  to  run  so? 

4.  If  our  appetite  should  demand  some  fruit,  would  it 
be  right  for  us  to  deny  our  appetite  for  a  time  if  we 
should  prefer  to  do  so? 

5.  If  our  love  company  should  prompt  us  to  visit  with 
others,  would  it  be  right  to  deny  ourselves  this  pleasure, 
for  a  time,  if  we  should  prefer  to  do  so? 

(5.  If  we  feel  a  very  strong  anxiety  to  attend  to  a  par- 
ticular study,  or  read  an  interesting  book,  may  we  refrain 
from  doing  so,  if  we  prefer  to  do  so? 

7.  l(  conscience  should  forbid  us  to  eat  or  to  visit,  or 
to  study,  may  we  disobey  it  if  we  please? 

8.  What  made  the  boy,  who  found  the  gold  coin,  feel 
so  much  uneasiness  while  he  kept  the  money  concealed  in 
his  pocket? 

9.  When  he  saw  the  constable's  horse,  what  made  him 
fear  the  constable  was  near  for  the  purpose  of  arresting 
him? 

10.  What  made  the  boy  feel  so  cowardly  when  he  went 
home  at  dark? 

11.  What  makes  anybody  feel  cowardly  at  any  time? 

12.  Why  did  not  the  boy  keep  the  money,  instead  of 
giving  it  to  be  Mr.  Baldwin,  as  no  one  knew  that  he  had 
found  it?     ' 

13.  What  made  the  boy  feel  m  happy  when  he  had 
given  the  sovereign  to  the  real  owner? 


84  ELEMENTARY    MORAL    LESSONS. 

14.  What  affords    to  anybody,  the   purest,   sweetest 
pleasure  they  ever  enjoy? 

15.  Why  was  not  the  boy  willing  to  accept  of  hall"  of 
the  money,  when  it  was  offered  to  him  ? 

16.  What  is  harder  to  endure  than  the  pains  of  a  guilty 
conscience? 


NARRATIVE. 

An  Honest  Act. — A  rare  instance  of  the  upbraidings 
of  conscience  occurred  a  few  days  since,  which  deserves 
a  passing  notice.  A  farmer  residing  a  few  miles  from 
this  place,  calling  on  one  of  our  oldest  established  mer- 
chants, stated  that  on  a  certain  day,  more  than  1 1  years 
ago,  he  had  passed  on  him  a  counterfeit  $10  bill,  describ- 
ing the  note.  The  merchant,  who  had  always  been  in 
the  habit  of  preserving  a  small  book  kept  for  the  pur- 
pose, all  counterfeits,  as  well  as  the  date  of  their  re- 
ception, on  referring  to  it,  found  the  bill,  as  well  as  the 
date  at  wdiich  he  had  received  it,  corresponding  with  the 
farmer's  words.  The  latter,  on  taking  hold  of  the  bill, 
tore  it  into  fragments,  with  apparent  satisfaction,  and  de- 
sired the  merchant  to  calculate  the  interest,  which  having 
been  done,  he  paid  the  w4iole  amount  in  good  money. — 
He  had  received  the  note,  the  farmer  stated,  at  the  time, 
for  a  genuine  one,  but  did  not  know  of  whom,  and  just 
starting  in  the  world,  could  not  afford  to  lose  so  much; 
and,  besides  this,  his  wife  argued  that  he  had  as  good  a 
i-ight  to  pass  it  off  as  the  person  who  had  imposed  it  upon 
him.  Ever  since  the  day  on  which  he  had  passed  it,  his 
conscience  had  goaded  him;  but  now  it  would  be  at  ease, 
and  he  went  off  as  contented  as  if  he  had  received  a  cap- 
ital prize. 


CONSCIENCE.  85 

15.  Why  did  the  farmer  remember  for  eleven  years 
that  he  had  passed  this  counterfeit  bill,  while  the  merchant 
had  forgotten  it? 

16.  Why  did  the  farmer  feel  so  -contented,"  after 
he  had  torn  up  the  counterfeit  bill,  and  paid  good  money 
and  interest  for  it? 


VARIED  APPLICATION  OF  EIOHT  PEINOIPLES. 


QUESTIONS  FOR  SPECIAL    AND  GENERAL  REVIEW. 

1.  When  our  conscience  approves  our  conduct,  how 
will  misfortune  affect  us? 

2.  If,  while  busily  engaged  at  work,  you  should  acci- 
dentally, but  not  carelessly,  seriously  injure  your  brother, 
or  sister,  or  friend,  would  conscience  cause  you  uneasi- 
ness and  pain? 

3.  But  if,  in  anger,  you  should  injure  another,  though 
it  should  be  known  to  no  one  but  yourself,  could  you  al- 
ways feel  calm  and  satisfied  with  your  conduct? 

4.  If  your  friends  and  acquaintances  should  strongly 
suspect  you  of  stealing,  when  you  well  knew  you  were 
not  guilty,  how  would  you  feel? 

5.  Will  conscience  always  admonish  us  when  we  are 
about  to  do  wrong? 

6.  If  one  should  continue  to  disregard  the  warnings  of 
conscience,  as  in  the  habit  of  profane  swearing,  what  do 
you  think  the  effect  would  be? 

7.  But  if  we  succeed  in  silencing  conscience  now,  or 


86  ELEMENTARY    MORAL    LESSONS. 

for  a  little  time,  will  it  ever  become  aroused,  and  cause 
us  sorrow  and  remorse? 

8.  Can  we  forget  what  we  have  ever  done,  when  we 
please  to  do  so? 

9.  How  long  will  conscience  give  us  pain  for  the  wrongs 
we  do? 

10.  How  long  will   conscience  give  us  pleasure  for 
obeying  its  commands? 


11.  When  we  find  ourselves  doing,  or  about  to  do, 
lat  we  are  afraid  to  have  oth< 
course  ought  we  at  once  to  take? 


what  we  are  afraid  to  have  others  see  and  know,  what 


12.  If  we  were  required  to  suffer  the  loss  of  everything 
we  hold  dear  in  this  world,  or  disobey  conscience,  which 
would  it  be  better  for  us  to  do? 

13.  Have  you  ever  heard  or  read  of  persons  who  have 
suffered  a  cruel  death  rather  than  disobey  conscience? 


LESSON   XI. 


WE  MUST  FORGIVE  ALL  INJURIES,  AS  WE  HOPE  TO  BE 

FORGIVEN. 


NARRATIVE. 


Forgiveness  of  Injury  by  a  Sailor.— Charles  John- 
son, a  fine  looking  young  sailor,  was  brought  in  this 
morning  to  answer  for  kicking  out  the  right  eye  of  Joseph 


FORGIVENESS.  87 

Martin,  another  sailor.  He  pleaded  that  he  would  not 
contend.  On  the  22d  of  May,  Martin  was  lying  drunk 
in  Hanover  street,  and  Johnson,  he  also  being  under  the 
influence  of  liquor,  upon  seeing  a  brother  thus  hard  up. 
crossed  over  to  arouse  him  and  get  him  up.  Martin  re- 
sented his  benevolent  interference,  and  applied  to  him 
a  very  coarse  and  irritating  epithet.  Being  in  liquor 
himself  at  the  time,  Johnson  was  not  in  a  condition  to 
overlook  a  galling  insult  from  the  lips  of  any  man,  either 
drunk  or  sober,  and  gave  Martin  a  furious  kick,  which 
accidentally  took  effect  in  his  eye,  and  destroyed  the 
sight  of  it.  Martin  was  called  upon  the  stand,  to  state 
what  he  knew  of  the  circumstances,  and  what  were  his 
wishes  in  relation  to  the  disposition  of  the  case.  He 
said,  in  reply  to  questions  put  by  Judge  L.  S.  Gushing — 
"I  do  not  know  how  we  came  together.  I  only  recollect 
what  took  place  after.  T  had  not  known  Johnson  before, 
and  he  didn't  know  me.  So  he  could  have  had  no  grudge 
against  me.  His  kicking  me  in  the  eve  must  have  been 
an  accident.  I  could  almost  swear  it  was  an  accident,— 
He  could  not  have  intended  to  do  so.  It  is  impossible 
that  he  could  mean  to  have  done  it;  I  know  he  didn't. 
He  has  done  all  he  can  for  me  since.  He  has  given  me 
all  he  can  with  his  means.  He  has  given  me  twenty- 
five  dollars,  but  I  don't  care  for  that,  and  if  he  hadn't  got 
it  to  give.  I  shouldn't  think  any  different  about  it.  He 
has  done  all  he  could  for  me.  I  should  be  sorry  if  he 
was  punished,  for  I  must  have  been  to  blame  in  the  first 
place.  If  I  hadn't  spoke  to  him  as  I  did,  he  wouldn't 
have  kicked  me."  While  poor  Martin  was  uttering  these 
words  of  true  forgiveness,  he  was  unable  to  hold  his  head 
up  on  account  of  the  weakness  of  his  remaining  eye. 
which  was  sympathetically  affected,  and  as  yet  unable  to 
stand   even  the  mild   light  of  the  court  room.     Surelv 


88  ELEMENTARY    MORAL    LESSONS. 

such  a  man  may  venture  to  approach  the  Heavenly  Fa- 
ther with  the  prayer- — "Forgive  my  trespasses,  even  as 
I  have  forgiven  him  who  has  trespassed  against  me. " — 
The  Judge  was  deeply  impressed  with  Martin's  manner. 
and  was  satisfied  that  he  desired  Johnson  should  not  be 
severely  punished;  and,  in  consideration  of  Martin's 
wish,  and  that  Johnson  had  already  been  five  weeks  in 
jail,  he  sentenced  him  to  ten  days'  imprisonment,  and  to 
pay  the  costs  of  prosecution.  C.  A.  Andrews  appeared 
for  the  defendant,  but,  as  the  Judge  remarked,  "Martin 
had  said,  and  well  said,  about  all  that  could,  with  propri- 
ety, be  advanced  in  favor  of  Johnson." 


QUESTIONS    FOR    ILLUSTRATION. 

1.  When  we  are  conscious  we  have  wronged  others  in 
any  manner,  what  is  our  first  duty? 

2.  But  suppose  others  have  injured  us  very  much, 
while  our  wrong  to  them  has  been  very  trifling,  what  is 
to  be  done  ? 

8.  If  others  have  injured  us,  and  are  still  disposed  to 
injure  us,  and  do  not  ask  or  desire  us  to  forgive  them, 
yet,  if  we  are  conscious  of  having  injured  these  same 
persons  in  any  manner,  what  will  be  our  duty? 

4.  But  suppose. we  regard  those  we  have  wronged  as 
very  much  our  inferiors,  and  as  persons  who  can  never, 
in  any  way,  injure  us  in  return,  what  shall  we  do? 

5.  If  we  believe  that  those  we  have  wronged  will  nev- 
er speak  of  the  injuries  we  have  done  them,  to  ourselves. 
or  to  any  one  else,  what  shall  we  do? 


fOftattaxiM.  8fl 

b\  Is  it  degrading  to  any  person  to  ask  forgiveness  of 
those  he  has  intentionally  injured? 

7.  Do  yon  think  more,  or  ?m  highly  of  your  compan- 
ions when  they  frankly  say  they  have  injured  you,  and 
they  are  sorry  for  it? 

8.  Some  persons  arc  very  forward  to  ask  forgiveness 
when  they  fear  they  have  done  wrong,  and  some  are  very 
reluctant  to  do  so.  Which  class  do  you  respect  the  more 
highly? 

9.  What  must  be  thought  of  a  person  who  is  unwilling 
to  ask  forgiveness  for  any  of  the  injuries  lie  has  done  to 
others? 

10.  Some  persons  arc  very  prompt,  and  very  willing, 
to  forgive  injuries.  Was  the  the  sailor,  Charles  Martin. 
in  the  last  narrative,  prompt,  or  reluctant? 

11.  Perhaps  some  persons  would  have  thought  it  more 
honorable  in  Charles  Martin,  if  he  had  kicked  out  the 
right  eye  of  Johnson.  Which  do  you  think  the  more 
honorable  course? 


NARRATIVE. 

Manly  to  .Resent;  Godlike  to  Forgive. — A  gentle- 
man went  to  Sir  Eardley  Wilmot,  at  one  time  Lord 
Chief  Justice  of  the  Court  of  Common  Pleas,  and  having 
stated  to  the  Judge  an  injury  he  had  received,  asked  him 
if  he  did  not  think  it  manly  to  resent  it.  "Yes,"  said 
Sir  Eardley,  "it  would  be  manly  to  resent  it,  but  it  would 
be  Grodlihe  to  forgive  it! "  This  reply  completely  altered 
the  feelings  of  the  applicant. 
12 


90  ELEMENTARY    MORAL    LESSONS. 

12.  Which  is  the  first  feeling  with  most  people,  to  re- 
sent injuries,  or  to  forgive  them? 


NARRATIVE. 

Washington's  Acknowledgment. — In  1755,  Washing- 
ton, then  a  young  man  twenty-two  years  of  age,  was  sta- 
tioned with  his  regiment  at  Alexandria.  At  this  time  an 
election  for  public  officers  took  place,  and  the  contest  be- 
tween the  candidates  became  exciting  and  severe.  A 
dispute  took  place  between  Mr.  Payne  and  Washington, 
in  which  the  latter  (an  occurrence  very  uncommon  with 
him)  became  warm,  and  said  something  which  gave  Mr. 
Payne  so  much  offence  that  he  knocked  Washington  down: 
instead  of  flying  into  a  passion,  and  sending  him  a  chal- 
lenge to  fight  a  duel,  as  was  expected,  Washington,  upon 
mature  reflection,  finding  he  had  been  the  aggressor,  re- 
solved to  ask  pardon  of  Mr.  Payne  on  the  morrow.  Ac- 
cordingly he  met  Mr.  Payne  the  next  day,  and  extended 
his  hand  in  a  friendly  manner:  "Mr.  Payne,"  said  he,  "to 
err  is  nature ;  to  rectify  error  is  glory.  I  find  I  was  wrong 
yesterday,  but  I  wish  to  be  right  to-day.  You  had  some 
satisfaction  yesterday,  and  if  you  think  that  was  sufficient 
here  is  my  hand,  let  us  be  friends."  It  is  hardly  neces- 
sary to  state  that  ever  afterwards  they  were  so. 


13.  Would  persons,  who  think  it  honorable  to  fight,  be 
likely  to  approve  of  Gen.  Washington's  course,  as  given 
in  the  foregoing  narrative? 

14.  Do  you  think  it  was  creditable  to  so  great  a  man 
as  Gen.  Washington,  1<>  ask  forgiveness,  as  he  did.  after 
lie  had  received  an  injury  himself? 


^pRGIVENESS.  Dl 

NARRATIVE. 

"I  will  not  Rise  till  you  Forgive  me." — Kino- 
James  II.  one  day  lost  some  important  papers  relating  to 
a  marriage  that  he  was  trying  to  bring  about  between  one 
of  his  sons  and  a  princess  of  Spain.  He  continued  to 
hunt  for  these  papers,  until  at  last  he  got  into  a  great  rage 
because  he  could  not  find  them.  lie  went  from  room  to 
room,  looking  here  and  there,  but  without  success;  the 
papers  were  not  to  be  found. 

At  last  he  met  an  old  Scotch  servant  by  the  name  of 
Gib,  who  had  been  a  long  time .  in  his  service,  and  he 
charged  him  with  having  lost  his  papers.  The  old  servant 
told  the  king  respectfully,  that  he  knew  nothing  of  them, 
and  certainly  had  not  lost  them.  But  the  king  grew  very 
angry,  and  said,  "Gib,  I  remember  I  gave  them  to  you 
to  take  care  of.  What  have  you  done  with  them'?" — 
Gib  fell  down  on  his  knees  and  declared  that  he  did  not 
receive  them.  This  only  made  the  king  the  more  angry, 
as  his  word  was  contradicted  by  the  servant,  and  he 
kicked  him  as  he  kneeled  on  the  floor  at  his  feet.  Gib 
rose  from  his  knees  and  left  the  apartment,  saying,  ';I 
have  always  been  faithful  to  your  majesty,  and  have  not 
deserved  such  treatment  as  this.  I  cannot  remain  in 
your  service  under  such  a  degradation.  I  shall  never  see 
you  again.  He  immediately  left  the  place  with  the  in- 
tention of  returning  no  more. 

Not  long  after  the  old  Scotchman  left,  the  person  to 
whose  care  the  king  had  actually  committed  the  papers, 
came  in  and  presented  them  to  him.  The  king  was 
ashamed  of  his  conduct  towards  Gib,  and  forthwith  sent 
some  one  in  pursuit  of  him ;  but  it  was  some  time  before 
he  could  be  found  and  induced  to  return  to  the  presence 
of  one  who  had  treated  him  so  badly.     At  last  he  con- 


92  ELEMENTARY    MORAL    LESSONS. 

sented.  and  when  lie  came  into  his  room,  the  king,  in  his 
turn,  got  down  upon  his  knees  before  the  servant  Gib, 
and  said  he  would  not  rise  until  he  forgave  him.  The  ser- 
vant tried  to  evade  the  matter,  and  asked  the  king  to  rise, 
but  he  would  not  until  the  servant  told  him,  in  so  many 
words,  that  he  fully  forgave  him. 

Some  may  think  this  was  weak  in  a  king,  but  there  is 
something  noble  and  praiseworthy  in  it.  It  is  an  exam- 
ple worthy  of  imitation.  If  you  injure  any  one,  no  mat- 
ter how  poor  or  humble,  have  the  magnanimity  to  confess 
it,  and  ask  pardon  for  the  injury  done. 


15.  Is  it  an  indication  of  greatness,  or  meanness  in  any 
one,  to  ask  forgiveness  of  those  who  are  much  inferior  in 
station  or  attainments?  . 


VARIED  APPLICATION  OF  EIGHT  PRINCIPLES. 


QUESTIONS    FOR    SPECIAL  AND  GENERAL  REVIEW. 

1.  Are  there  any  persons  in  the  world  who  never  need 
forgiveness  from  others? 

"2.  Suppose  after  a  person  has  wronged  you  once,  and 
you  have  forgiven  him,  that  he  wrongs  you  again,  and 
asks  to  be  forgiven,  what  must  you  do? 

•>.  How  many  times  must  you  forgive  those  who  do 
you  an  injury,  if,  for  each  wrong,  they  are  sorry,  and  ask 
to  be  forgiven  '. 

4.  Il  others  do  you  an  injury,  and  do  not  asjv  or  wish 
to  be  forgiven,  what  are  vou  to  do? 


HELP    ONE    ANOTHER.  03 

5.  If  we  have  forgiven  those  who  have  treated  us  un- 
kindly, how  ought  we  to  act  towards  them  afterwards? 

6.  If  Ave  had  wronged  others  and  been  forgiven,  how 
should  we  wish  them  to  treat  us? 

7.  May  we  ever  receive  injuries  so  great,  that  we  may 
refuse  to  forgive  them? 

8.  Have  you  ever  read  or  heard  of  any  persons  who 
were  unwilling  to  forgive  those  who  had  injured  them? 


LESSON  XII. 


LEARN  TO  HELP  ONE  ANOTHER. 


NARRATIVE. 

The  Disobliging  Bo  v. — Some  folks  who  are  very 
disobliging,  are  not  aware  of  it.  Now  there  is  Sam 
Hobbs,  as  pleasant  a  fellow  as  any  in  the  school.  He 
was  a  good  scholar,  diligent  and  studious,  and  always 
ready  to  join  a  friend  on  an  excursion  of  pleasure.  He 
was  not  naturally  disobliging,  but  acquired  the  bad  habit 
in  this  way.  I've  heard  a  boy  many  a  time  say,  "lend 
me  your  knife,  Sam,  will  you?"  "1  can't,  for  I  haven't 
any,  and  besides  1  want  to  use  it  myself,"  he  would  re- 
ply; or  if  they  said,  "let  me  see  your  knife,  Sam,  will 
you?"  he  would  take  it  out  and  show  it  to  them,  and 
then  say,  "  There,  you've  seen  it, "  and  then  back  he 
would  put  it  in  his  pocket.     He  always  refused  in  such 


04  ELEMENTARY    MORAL    LESSONS. 

a  pleasant  way,  that  they  were  rarely  if  ever  offended, 
and  it  was  a  long  time  before  they  discovered  how  often 
he  disobliged  them. 

One  day  when  lie  was  absent  from  school,  the  boys 
had  a  public  meeting,  and  agreed  unanimously  that  we 
would  convince  him  how  disobliging  he  was,  and  in  such 
a  way  that  he  could  have  no  excuse  for  being  angry. — 
The  next  day  when  he  came,  one  of  the  first  things  he 
said  was.  "Where  is  the  lesson  to-day?"  "I  can't,  for  I 
haven't  any,  besides,  I  want  to  use  it  myself, :'  was  the 
reply.  He  asked  another,  who  holding  the  book  up  at 
such  a  distance  that  he  could  not  read  it,  said,  "there, 
you've  seen  it.  "  Every  question  he  asked,  was  answered 
with  one  of  his  old  answers.  At  length  he  began  to 
grow  angry ;  but  when  he  got  to  his  seat,  and  thought  of 
it,  he  was  surprised  to  think  how  often  he  had  disobliged 
his  friends;  the  fact  was,  he  had  never  thought  of  it  be- 
fore; but  now  his  eyes  were  opened,  and  he  felt  really 
sorry  that  he  had  disobliged  persons  so  much,  and  he  de- 
termined not  to  be  angry  with  his  schoolmates,  let  them 
disoblige  him,  as  they  would.  He  tried  not  to  ask  them 
any  question;  but  he  constantly  forgot  it,  and  received 
as  an  answer  to  all  his  enquiries,  "I  cant,  for  I  haven't 
any;  besides,  I  want  to  use  it  myself.  " 

He  came  to  school  in  the  afternoon  in  great  tribulation; 
he  was  at  the  head  of  his  class  in  Arithmetic,  and  felt 
very  anxious  to  remain  there;  but  in  his  lesson  of  this 
day,  there  was  a  sum  that  he  could  not  understand.  In 
vain  he  applied  to  one  after  another  to  explain  it,  but  all 
the  answer  he  got  was.  -1  can't,  for  I  haven't  any;  and 
I  ><  sides.  I  want  to  use  it  myself. "  There  was  one  scholar 
who  eame  late;  to  him  he  applied,  and  to  his  great  sur- 
prise  and  joy.  his  friend  did  the  sum:  but  oh,  provoking! 
just  as  he  reached  his  hand  out  for  the  slate,  it  was  with- 


HELP    ONE    ANOTHER.  95 

drawn,  and  the  old  words,  "there,  you've  seen  if."  was 
the  answer.  He  could  hear  it  no  longer ;  but  burst  tnt<  > 
tears.  His  schoolmates  really  Liked  him.  and  when  they 
saw  how  badly  he  felt,  they  were  very  sorry  that  they 
had  carried  the  joke  so  far.  After  school  they  all  came 
and  shook  hands  with  him,  and  told  him  why  they  did  it. 
He  acknowledged  that  he  had  done  wrong,  and  after  that. 
he  seldom  refused  to  oblige  a  person,  when  it  was  proper; 
if  he  did,  we  had  but  to  say — "I  can't,  for  I  haven't  any: 
besides,  I  want  to  use  it  myself."  and  he  would  instantly 
oblige  us. 


QUESTIONS  FOR  ILLUSTRATION. 

1.  Have  you  ever  observed  any  difference  in  persons, 
respecting  their  willingness  to  vender  assistance  to  others? 

:2.  Does  any  one  need  to  learn  to  be  kind  and  atten- 
tive to  the  welfare  of  others,  or  may  one  be  so  without 
thought,  and  without  effort,  and  without  practice  ? 

3.  Did  the  boy  in  the  narrative  need  to  learn  to  be 
obliging  to  his  associates,  or  was  he  able  to  be  always 
kind,  by  simply  resolving  to  be  sol 

4.  In  what  maimer  can  persons  become  so  willing  and 
anxious  to  make  all  happy  around  them,  that  they  will 
deny  themselves  almost  every  comfort  to  accomplish 
this  object? 

5.  If  we  constantly  study  how  we  may  help  others, 
may  we  find  many,  or  few  opportunities  to  do  so? 

6.  Some  persons  are  so  selfish  that  they  seem  never 
once  to  think  of  the  comforts  of  others.  Is  it  probable 
that  such  persons  admire  selfishness  in  others? 


96  ELEMENT  A  UV    MUitAt    LESSORS. 

7.  Very  selfish  persons  are  sometimes  sick,  or  other- 
wise unfortunate,  and  need  kind  attentions  from  somebody. 
Is  it  our  duty  to  show  such  persons  the  same  attentions 
we  would  show  to  others? 

8.  Some  persons  are  very  obliging  to  particular  friends 
thinking  they  may  receive  in  return,  at  some  time,  as 
many  favors  as  they  bestow.  Do  such  persons  deserve 
any  credit  for  generosity  ? 

9.  If  we  help  every  one  we  can,  willingly,  and  with  no 
wish  nor  expectation  of  favors  in  return,  in  what  way 
shall  we  still  benefit  ourselves?. 


NARRATIVE. 

Help  one  another. — A  traveler  who  was  passing  over 
the  Alps,  was  overtaken  by  a  snow-storm  at  the  top  of  a 
high  mountain.  The  cold  became  intense.  The  air  was 
thick  with  sleet,  and  the  piercing  wind  seemed  to  pene- 
trate into  his  bones.  Still  the  traveler,  for  a  time,  strug- 
gled on.  But  at  last  his  limbs  were  quite  benumbed^- 
a  heavy  drowsiness  began  to  creep  over  him — his  feet  al- 
most refused  to  move;  and  he  lay  down  on  the  snow  to 
give  way  to  that  fatal  sleep,  which  is  the  last  stage  of  ex- 
treme cold,  and  from  which  he  would  certainly  never 
have  waived  up  again  in  this  wqrlcl.  -lust  at  that  moment 
lie  saw  another  poor  traveler  coming  up  along  the  road; 
the  unhappy  man  seemed  to  lie.  if  possible,  even  in  a 
\v(  >rse  condition  than,  himself.  For  lie,  too,  could  scarcely 
move;  all  his  powers  were  frozen,  and  he  appeared  just 
<>n  the  point  to  die. 

When  he  saw  this  poor  man.  the  traveler,  who  was  just 
going  to  lie  down  to  sleep,  made  a  great  effort.     He 


HELP    ONE    ANOTHER.  (.>? 

roused  himself  up,  and  he  crawled,  for  he  was  scarcely 
able  to  walk,  to  his  fellow  sufferer. 

He  took  his  hands  into  his  own.  and  tried  to  warm 
them.  He  chafed  his  temples;  he  rubbed  his  feet;  he 
applied  friction  to  his  body.  And  all  the  time  he  spoke 
cheering  words  in  his  ear.  and  tried  to  comfort  him. 

As  he  did  this,  the  dying  man  began  to  revive;  his 
powers  were  restored,  and  he  felt  able  to  go  forward. — 
But  this  was  not  all ;.  for  his  kind  benefactor,  too,  was 
recovered  by  the  efforts  he  had  made  to  save  his  friend. 
The  exertion  of  rubbing  made  the  blood  circulate  again 
in  his  own  body.  He  grew  warm  by  trying  to  warm  the 
other.  His  drowsiness  went  off,  he  no  longer  wished  to 
sleep,  his  limbs  returned  again  to  their  proper  force,  and 
the  two  travelers  went  on  their  way  together,  happy,  and 
congratulating  one  another  on  their  escape. 

Soon  the  snow-  storm  passed  away;  the  mountain  was 
crossed,  and  they  reached  their  homes  in  safety. 

If  you  feel  your  heart  cold  towards  others,  and  your 
soul  almost  perishing,  try  to  do  something  which  may 
help  another  soul  to  life,  and  make  his  heart  glad;  and 
yon  will  often  find  it  the  best  way  to  warm,  and  restore. 
and  gladden  your  own. 

10.  In  the  foregoing  narrative,  in  iiow  many  ways  was 
the  traveler,  who  restored  his  companion  to  activity  and 
lite,  benefitted? 

1 1.  Suppose  he  had  commenced  rubbing  his  compan- 
ion, with  the  single  desire  of  warming  and  benefitting  h  im- 
self,  in  what  manner  would  the  traveler  then  have  been 

benefitted'? 

12.  When  we  would  help  our  friends,  or  strangers,  or 
the  unfortunate,  what  must  always  be  our  motives  in  do- 
ing so? 

i  3 


98  ELEMENTARY    MORAL    LESSONS. 


YAKIED   APPLICATION   OF   EIGHT   PRINCIPLES. 


QUESTIONS  FOR  SPECIAL  AND  GENERAL  REVIEW. 

1.  May  any  person  in  the  world  be  excused  from  help- 
ing another,  or  helping  the  needy'? 

'2.  Children  are  sometimes  neglected  by  their  associ- 
ates, or  by  others,  because  they  are  not  as  well  dressed, 
or  as  well  appearing  as  other  children.  In  what  way 
could  you  help  such  unfortunate  children? 

3.  Which  would  be  the  more  acceptable  service  to  the 
neglected  or  unfortunate,  to  show  them  attention,  kind- 
ness, sympathy  and  respect,  when  they  were  abused,  or 
to  make  them  presents  of  money  or  clothing? 

4.  Which  do  you  think  would  be  more  in  need  of  jour 
kind  assistance,  those  who  are  so  unfortunate  as  to  be 
poor  and  ignorant,  or  those  who  are  so  thoughtless  or 
reckless  as  to  treat  unfortunate  persons  unkindly? 

5.  In  what  manner  could  you  help  those  who  would 
thoughtlessly,  or  intentionally,  injure  the  feelings  of  un- 
fortunate children  ? 

(5.  If  your  kind  advice,  and  your  good  example,  should 
seem  to  be  entirely  lost,  the  first  time,  upon  those  who 
are  abusive  to  the  unfortunate,  would  you  think  it  your 
duty  to  advise  them  again  and  again? 

7.  Which  would  you  give  more  pleasure,  to  have  small 
favors  rendered  you  very  cheerfully  and  willingly^  or 
greater  ones  very  reluctantly? 

8.  After  you  have  rendered  favors  to  others,  is  it  well 


SELF-CONTROL.  &9 

to  mention  the  matter  to  your  friends  and  to  strangers  1 


•TV 


9.  Is  it  well  ever  to  remind  those  to  whom  you  have 
made  presents,  or  upon  whom  you  have,  in  any  manner, 
conferred  favors,  of  your  liberality  or  kindness? 

10.  What  course  of  conduct  and  of  secrecy  ought  ev- 
ery one  to  pursue  who  renders  assistance,  in  any  manner, 

to  another? 


LESSON   XIII. 


THE   GREATEST  CONQUEROR  IS  THE  SELF-CONQUEROR 


NARRATIVE. 

A  Noble  Example. — About  the  year  1776,  a  circum- 
stance occurred  which  ought  to  be  written  on  adamant. 
In  the  wars  of  New  England,  with  the  aborigines,  the 
Mohegan  tribe  of  Indians  early  become  friends  of  the 
English.  Their  favorite  grounds  were  on  the  banks  of 
the  river  (now  the  Thames)  between  New  London  and 
Norwich.  A  small  remnant  of  the  Mohegans  still  exist, 
and  they  are  scarcely  protected  in  the  enjoyment  and 
possession  of  their  favorite  domain  on  the  banks  of  the 
Thames.  The  government  of  this  tribe  became  heredit- 
ary in  the  family  of  the  celebrated  chief  Uncas.  During 
the  time  of  my  father's  mercantile  prosperity,  he  had 
employed  several  Indians  of  this  tribe  in  hunting  animals 
whose  skins  were  valuable  for  their  furs. 


100  ELEMENTARY    MORAL    LESSONS. 

Among  these  hunters,  there  was  one  named  Zachary, 
of  the  royal  race,  an  excellent  hunter,  but  as  drunken 
and  worthless  an  Indian  as  ever  lived.  When  he  had 
somewhat  passed  the  age  of  fifty,  several  members  of 
the  royal  family,  who  stood  between  Zachary  and  the 
throne,  died,  and  he  found  himself  with  only  one  life  be- 
tween himself  and  the  empire.  At  this  moment  his  bet- 
ter genius  resumed  its  sway,  and  he  reflected  seriously, 
"How  can  such  a  drunken  wretch  as  I  aspire  to  be  a 
chief  of  this  honorable  race?  What  will  my  people  say? 
— and  how  will  the  shades  of  my  ancestors  look  down, 
indignant  upon  such  a  base  successor?  Can  I  succeed  to 
the  great  Uncas?  I  will  drink  no  more!  "  He  solemnly 
resolved  never  to  taste  any  drink  again  but  water,  and 
he  kept  his  resolution. 

I  had  heard  this  story  and  did  not  entirely  believe  it ; 
for  young  as  I  was,  I  already  partook  of  the  prevailing 
contempt  for  Indians.  In  the  beginning  of  May,  the  an- 
nual election  of  the  principal  officers  of  the  (then)  col- 
ony, was  held  at  Hartford.  My  father  attended  officially, 
and  it  was  customary  for  the  chief  of  the  Mohegans  also 
to  attend.  Zachary  had  succeeded  to  the  rule  of  his 
tribe.  My  father's  house  was  situated  about  mid-way  on 
the  load  between  Mohegan  and  Hartford,  and  the  old 
chief  was  in  the  habit  of  coming  a  few  days  before  the' 
election,  and  dining  with  his  brother  Governor.  One 
clay  the  mischievous  thought  struck  me  to  try  the  old 
man's  temperance.  The  family  were  seated  at  dinner, 
and  there  was  excellent  home-brewed  beer  on  the  table. 
I  addressed  the  old  chief: 

"Zachary,  this  beer  is  excellent — will  you  taste  if?" 

The  old  man  dropped  his  knife  and  fork,  leaned  for- 
ward with  a  stern  intensity  of  expression — his  black  eye. 
sparkling  with  indignation,  was  fixed  on  me: 


SELF-CONTROL.  101 

"John,"  said  he,  "you  do  not  know  what  you  are  do- 
ing. You  are  serving  the  devil,  boy !  Do  you  not  know 
that  I  am  an  Indian?  I  tell  you  I  am,  and  if  I  should 
but  taste  your  beer,  I  could  not  stop  until  I  got  to  rum, 
and  again  become  the  contemptible  drunken  wretch  your 
father  remembers  me  to  have  been.  John,  while  you 
live,  never  again  tempt  a  man  to  break  a  good  resolu- 
tion. " 

Socrates  never  uttered  a  more  valuable  precept.  De- 
mosthenes could  not  have  given  it  in  more  solemn  tones 
of  eloquence.  I  was  thunderstruck.  My  parents  were 
deeply  affected ;  they  looked  at  each  other,  at  me,  and  at 
the  venerable  Indian,  with  deep  feelings  of  awe  and  re- 
spect. They  afterwards  frequently  reminded  me  of  the 
scene,  and  charged  me  never  to  forget  it.  Zachary  lived 
to  pass  the  age  of  eighty,  and  sacredly  kept  his  resolu- 
tion. He  lies  buried  in  the  royal  burial  place  of  his 
tribe,  near  the  beautiful  fall  of  the  Yantic,  the  western 
branch  of  the  Thames,  in  Norwich,  on  land  now  owned 
by  my  friend,  Calvin  Goddard,  Esq.  I  visited  the  grave 
of  the  old  chief  lately,  and  repeated  to  myself  his  ines- 
timable lesson. —  Col.   TrumbulVs  Autobiogtaphy. 

QUESTIONS    FOR    ILLUSTRATION. 

1.  How  do  those  who  play  skilfully  upon  musical  in- 
struments,  acquire  such  control  over  their  fingers  or 
hands? 

2.  How  do  those  who  read  well,  or  sing  well,  acquire 
such  control  over  their  voices? 

o.  How  does  the  good  scholar  obtain  such  command 
over  his  thoughts  that  he  can  give  close  attention  to  study 
in  the  midst  of  confusion,  if  he  pleases  to  do  so? 


102  ELEMENTARY    MORAL    LESSONS. 

4.  Will  effort  and  practice,  enable  persons  to  control 
their  appetites  and  passions,  as  well  as  their  fingers,  or 
voices,  or  thoughts? 

5.  Can  any  one  learn  to  uniformly  practice  self-control 
ii'lthout  effort  and  practice? 

(5.  When  is  the  best  time  to  commence  learning  to 
write,  or  to  sing,  or  to  play  on  musical  instruments. — at 
the  age  of  ten,  fifteen,  twenty  or  forty  years? 

7.  At  what  age  is  the  best  time  to  begin  to  practice 
habits  of  self-control? 

8.  Why  did  the  Indian,  in  the  last  narrative,  find  it 
such  a  fearful  thing  to  attempt  to  keep  his  appetite  under 
control? 

9.  Why  does  any  one  find  it  so  difficult  to  conquer  bad 
habits? 

10.  Would  you  expect  that  an  ignorant,  uncultivated 
person,  would  control  his  appetites  and  passions,  as  well 
as  one  who  has  good  opportunities  for  instruction  ? 

11.  If  an  uneducated  Indian,  fifty  years  of  age,  could 
conquer  his  bad  habits,  cannot  other  persons  do  so? — 
How? 


NARRATIVE. 

Tjie  Basket  of  Peaches. — Half  a  century  ago,  that 
excellent  man,  the  Rev.  William  Woodbridge,  established 
in  the  town,  now  city,  of  Newark,  a  boarding-school  for 
young  ladies.  His  residence  was  on  the  upper  Green,  in 
a  large  stone  building,  afterwards  the  property  of  A.. 


SELF-CONTROL.  10d 

Dey,  Esq.,  and  attached  to  the  house  was  a  large,  deep 
garden,  well  filled  with  fruit  trees. 

The  venerable  preceptor  could  sit  in  his  back  parlor, 
and  while  unobserved,  have  a  tolerably  good  view  of  the 
entire  garden,  and  of  all  the  young  ladies  who  delighted 
t<>  frequent  it.  lie  was  greatly  pleased  to  see  his  young 
and  joyous  flock  of  charming  girls  gambolling  under  the 
trees  and  enjoying  the  beauties  of  nature  when  robed  in 
the  glories  of  early  summer,  and  he  did  not  fail  to  im- 
prove every  opportunity  to  enforce  some  valuable  truth. 

It  was  about  midsummer  that  he  noticed  one  luxuriant 
peach-tree  laden  with  green  fruit  so  plentifully,  that  the 
boughs  were  bowed  down  under  its  weight.  He  natu- 
rally supposed  that  the  beautiful  tinge  upon  the  ripening 
peach  might  tempt  his  young  friends  to  taste  of  the  fruit 
before  it  was  fully  ripe;  and  one  lovely  afternoon,  just 
before  sunset,  he  called  the  young  ladies  into  the  parlor 
and  kindly  and  affectionately  expostulated  with  them  on 
the  danger  of  eating  unripe  fruit,  and  he  promised  that 
those  who  refrained  from  plucking  the  green  fruit,  should, 
have  it  all  when  matured.  Each  bright  and  happy  face 
yielded  a  full  assent  to  this  reasonable  proposition,  and* 
ran  down  into  the  garden  with  unwonted  delight. 

This  tree,  in  particular,  was  an  object  of  great  atten- 
tion, and  the  warm  days  of  summer  were  fast  preparing, 
for  this  happy  throng  a  delicious  feast.  They  daily 
watched  its  progress  towards  maturity,  and  manifested 
sometimes  no  little  impatience. 

The  venerable  minister  and  teacher,  as  he  sat  in  his 
back  parlor,  and  as  the  peaches  were  fast  approaching 
to  maturity,  could  sometimes  see  the  uplifted  hand  of 
some  young  lady  plucking  the  forbidden  fruit.  He., 
however,  said  nothing  until  the  time  arrived  when  the. 
peaches  were  perfectly  ripe.     He  had  the  fruit  carefully 


104  ELEMENTARY    MORAL    LESSONS. 

gathered,  and  the  very  choicest  of  it  filled  a  large  basket. 

He  placed  it  in  the  back  parlor  and  called  in  all  the 
young  ladies,  and  took  occasion,  on  exhibiting  it,  of  en- 
forcing the  propriety  of  his  former  injunction,  and  assured 
them  of  the  gratification  it  now  afforded  him  of  present- 
ing to  them  a  basket  of  delicious  fruit  fully  ripe;  and 
requested  those  who  had  not  plucked  any  green  peaches 
from  the  tree,  to  come  forward  and  partake  bountifully 
of  the  large  supply. 

To  his  surprise,  all  remained  motionless  except  one 
little  girl.  She,  with  a  gentle  step,  approached  the  ven- 
erable teacher.  "My  dear,*'  said  he,  "have  you  not  eat- 
en a  single  peach?"  She  laid  her  little  hand  upon  her 
breast,  and  sweetly  replied,  "Not  one,  sir."  "Then," 
said  the  excellent  man,  "the  whole  basket  full  is  yours." 

The  happy  girl  took  them  and  made  distribution  among 
all  her  school -fellows.  How  pure  the  joy  which  flows 
from  obedience,  and  how  pure  its  reward ! 


12.  Why  was  the  little  girl,  in  the  last  narrative,  more 
successful  in  controlling  her  appetite  than  her  older  asso- 
ciates? 

1 3.  Which  would  you  think  the  more  difficult  to  con- 
quer, a  strong  appetite,  or  a  violent,  hasty  temper? 


NARRATIVE. 


Anger. — It  is  common  among  children  to  get  angry 
with  their  companions,  about  little,  trifling  things,  which 
arc  not  worth  disputing  about.  We  have  seen  the  flushed 
cheek,  and  the  raised  arm  of  a  youth,  for  no  other  reason 
than  simply  because  he  had  been  contradicted  bv  an  asso- 


SKLF-COXTROL.  105 

date.  But  it  is  easy  to  subdue  your  angry  feelings  if 
you  but  make  the  attempt.  When  irritated,  or  injured 
in  any  way.  reflect  a  moment  on  what  your  duty  is — and 
be  noble-minded  enough  to  pay  no  attention  to  a  supposed 
insult,  and  endeavor  to  eonvince  your  companion  of  the 
impropriety  of  his  conduct.  For  if  you  suffer  your  pas- 
sion to  he  indulged,  the  evil  will  increase  with  your  years. 
and  it  may  he  with  you  as  it  has  been  with  hundreds, 
who.  in  an  unguarded  moment,  have  committed  an  act 
that  forever  after  deprived  them  of  enjoyment,  if  not  oc- 
casioned their  death. 

In  England,  a  man  living  near  Barnard  Castle,  was 
ploughing  a  field  adjoining  his  cottage.  His  son,  a  young 
boy,  who  was  driving,  happened  to  displease  him;  at 
which  he  flew  into  a  violent  rage,  and  in  his  fit  of  fury, 
struck  the  boy  with  the  plough-staff  so  dreadful  a  blow, 
that  the  poor  child  fell  down  and  died  on  the  spot.  When 
the  father  saw  that  the  son  was  dead,  he  uttered  three 
loud  and  agonizing  shrieks;  on  hearing  which,  his  wife 
ran  out  of  the  house  to  the  place,  leaving  a  young  child 
iu  the  cradle,  and  the  door  open.  When  she  came  back, 
she  found  her  infant  torn  and  mangled  to  death,  by  a  sow. 
that  had  gone  into  the  house  during  her  absence.  In  her 
frenzy  of  grief,  the  wretched  mother  ran  to  the  river, 
which  was  hard  by,  and  throwing  herself  in,  was  drown- 
ed. To  finish  the  tragedy,  this  most  unhappy  man,  who, 
by  yielding  to  the  temptations  of  undue  anger,  at  the 
fault  of  his  child,  thus  dreadfully  saw  himself  bereft,  was 
apprehended  and  committed  to  York  castle,  to  take  his 
trial  for  the  slaying  of  his  son. 


14.  If  you  have  yielded  to  your  angry  feelings  oncer 
will  you  be  more,  or  less  likely  to  do  so  again'? 


,10(5  ELEMENTARY    MORAL  LESSONS. 

15.  Is  it  probable  the  man,  spoken  of  in  the  last  nar- 
rative, had  ever  been  angry  with  any  one  before? 

16.  What  difference  is  there  between  persons  who  al- 
low themselves  to  be  wholly  controlled  by  anger,  and 
persons  at  the  Insane  Asylum,  who  have  lost  the  use  of 
their  reason? 


VALUED  APPLICATION  OP  EIGHT  PRINCIPLES. 


■QUESTIONS    FOR    SPECIAL  AND  GENERAL  REVIEW. 

1.  After  you  have  controlled  your  appetite  once,  will 
it  be  more,  or  less  easy  to  do  it  again? 

2.  If  you  have  thoroughly  controlled  your  hasty  tem- 
per, or  your  angry  feelings  once,  will  it  be  more  or  less 
easy  to  do  it  again? 

3.  Sometimes  when  children  are  called  to  account  for 
being  in  a  quarrel,  they  try  to  excuse  themselves  by  say- 
ing that  they  cannot  help  it.  Do  you  think  this  a  good 
•excuse?     What  excuse  should  be  given? 

4.  Sometimes  scholars  leave  school  without  permission 
of  parents  or  teachers.  They  give  as  a  reason  for  doing 
so,  that  other  boys  urged  him  to  go.  and  they  could  not 
help  going.  Do  you  think  this  a  good  reason?  What 
reason  should  be  given  ? 

5.  Children  sometimes  speak  unkindly  to  their  mother 
when  they  are  denied  any  favor.  Do  you  think  they 
might  refrain  from  unkind  words  if  they  would  try? 

6.  Some  children  who  would  not  speak  unkindly  to  a 


PROFANITY.  1 07 

j nether  or  sister,  feel  angry  if  they  are  denied  a  favor. 
Do  you  think  they  might  help  their  angry  feelings  if  they 
would  try? 

7.  Do  some  children  control  their  actions  voaAfeeUngs 
too?     If  some  do.  may  not  all.  if  they  would  try? 

8.  How  would  you  try  to  prevent  feeling  angry  if 
some  one  should  do  you  mi  injury  I 

9.  Which  would  you  think  the  greater  accomplishment, 
the  ability  to  control  your  temper  well.  or  the  ability  t«:» 
Hincf  well/ 

1 0.  What  accomplishment  do  you  think  more  desira- 
ble than  the  ability  to  control  all  your  appetites  and  pas- 
sions I 

11.  In  what  manner  is  any  one  ever  to  become  a  self- 
conquerer? 


LESSON  XIV. 

SWEAR  NOT  AT  ALL. 

NARRATIVE. 

Profane  Swearing. — Brother  8 and  myself  were 

entertained  during  the  Convention,  at  the  house  of  a  med- 
ical gentleman,  eminent  in  his  profession,  but  addicted,  it 
was  said,  to  profanity  in  ordinary  conversation.  With- 
out a  premonition,  no  suspicion  of  so  blameworthy  a  prac- 
tice could  have  arisen  in  our  minds;  for  no  real  Christian. 


I  OS  ELEMENTARY    MOKAL    LESSONS. 

ever  showed  guests  greater  courtesy,  or  seemed  so  far 
from  profaneness  than  our  gentlemanly  host.  He  did  not 
even  annoy  us  with  lady-like  mincings,  putting  forth  the 
buddings  of  profanity  in  "la  me! — good  gracious!"  and 
the  like. 

But  on  Sabbath  night,  our  conversation  taking  a  reli- 
gious turn,  the  subject  of  profane  swearing  was  incidentaliy 
named,  when  I  could  not  resist  the  temptation  of  drawing 
a  bow  at  a  venture ;  and  so  I  said : 

"Doctor,  we  leave  you  to-morrow;  and  be  assured  wo 

are  very  grateful  to  Mrs.  D and  yourself;  but  may 

1  say,  dear  sir,  we  have  been  disappointed  hereto 

"Disappointed!" 

"Yes,  sir,  most  agreeably " 

"In  what,  Mr.  C V'" 

"Will  you  pardon  me,  if  I  say  we  were  misinformed. 
and  may  I  name  it?" 

"Certainly,  sir,  say  what  you  wish." 

.    -'Well,  my  dear  sir,  we  were  told  that  Doctor  D 

was  not  guarded  in  his  language. — but  surely  you  are 
misrepresented " 

"Sir,"  interrupted  he,  "I  do  honor  you  for  candor;  yet. 
sir,  I  regret  to  say,  you  have  hot  been  misinformed.  1 
do,  and  perhaps  habitually,  use  profane  language:  but, 
sir,  can  you  think  I  would  swear  before  religious  people, 
and  one  of  them  a  clergyman?"" 

Tears  stood  in  my  eyes,  (the  frank-hearted) less  of  a  gen- 
tleman always  starts  them,)  as  1  took  his  hand  and  replied  : 

"  My  dear  sir,  you  amaze  us !     Can  it  be  that  Dr.  D . 

so  courteous  and  intelligent  a  man.  lias  greater  reverence 
for  us,  than  for  the  venerable  G<><i!" 

••Cenik  )iK-n.,:"  replied  the  Doctor,  and  with  a  tremu- 
lous voice,  "1  never  did  before  see  the  utter  folly  of>pr©~ 
fane  swearing.     !  wilt  abandon  it  forever." 


PROFANITY.  109 

Reader,  are  you  profane?     Imitate  the  manly  recan- 
tation of  my  estimable  friend,  Dr.  D . 


QUESTIONS  FOR  ILLUSTRATION. 

1.  Many  persons,  like  the  Doctor,  in  the  preceding 
narrative,  accustomed  to  the  use  of  profane  language,, 
suddenly  refrain  from  it  when  coming  into  the  presence 
of  those  they  consider  worthy  of  much  respect.  Why  is 
this? 

2.  If  it  is  not  right  or  proper  to  swear  before  respecta- 
ble people,  when  and  where  is  it  right  or  proper  to  swear? 

3.  What  advantage  does  any  one  derive  from  swearing? 
If  none,  why  do  persons  practice  it? 

4.  Would  it  be  a  good  excuse  for  stealing,  if  the  thief 
should  plead  that  it  was  fashionable? 

5.  Is  it  a  good  excuse  for  swearing,  because  one  is  very 
angry?  Would  it  not  be  right,  or  excusable,  to  lie,  or 
to  steal  when  one  is  angry,  if  it  is  to  swear? 

(3.  Some  persons  never  think  of  using  a  profane  word, 
much  less  do  they  ever  use  one.  Might  every  one  re- 
frain from  doing  so,  if  they  would? 

7.  After  boys  have  learned  to  swear,  what  other  bad 
habits  may  be  expected  soon  to  follow,  if  they  are  not 
already  formed? 


EXTRACT. 


A  Nest  of  Vipers. — When  you  hear  any  one  use  pro- 
fane language,  you  will  not  wrong  him  if  you  conclude 

14 


HO  ELEMENTARY    MORAL    LESSONS. 

that  this  is  only  one  of  the  nest  of  vipers  which  he  carries 
in  his  heart ;  and  although  this  is  the  only  one  that  now 
hisses,  yet  each  in  his  turn,  is  master  of  the  poor  wretch 
who  is  giving  his  life-blood  to  feed  them. 


8.  Would  you  think  it  safe  for  a  bay  who  wTould 
swear,  to  have  charge  of  money  in  a  store?     Why  not? 

9.  Some  persons  seem  to  think  that  it  is  an  indication 
of  very  great  ability  in  a  person  to  swear  frequently. 
Do  jo\\  think  that  it  requires  a  great  intellect  to  utter 
great  oaths? 

10.  Other  persons  seem  to  suppose  that  it  is  a  proof 
of  very  great  courage,  to  swear  occasionally  or  fequently. 
If  a  man  or  boy  possesses  any  true  courage,  do  you  see 
any  necessity  for  swearing  about  it? 

11.  If  profanity  is  not  a  proof  of  greatness  or  courage, 
of  what  is  it  a  proof? 


narrative. 

Washington's  Opinion  of  Profane  Swearing. — 
That  the  troops  may  have  an  opportunity  of  attending 
public  worship,  as  well  as  to  take  some  rest  after  the 
great  fatigue  they  have  gone  through,  the  General,  in  fu- 
ture, excuses  them  from  fatigue  duty  on  Sundays,  except 
at  the  ship-yards,  or  on  special  occasions,  until  further 
orders.  The  General  is  sorry  to  be  informed  that  the 
foolish  and  wicked  practice  of  profane  cursing  and  swear- 
ing, a  vice  heretofore  little  known  in  the  American  Army, 
is  growing  into  fashion;  he  hopes  the  officers  will,  by  ex- 
ample as  well  as  influence,  endeavor  to  check  it,  and  that 


SELF-CONTROL.  Ill 

both  they  and  the  men  will  reflect  that  we  can  have  little 
hope  of  the  blessing  of  Heaven  on  our  arms,  if  we  insult 
it  by  our  impiety  and  folly ;  added  to  this,  it  is  a  vice  so 
mean  and  low,  without  any  temptation,  that  every  man 
of  sense  and  character  detests  and  despises  it. 


VARIED  APPLICATION  OF  RIGHT  PRINCIPLES. 
QUESTIONS  FOR   SPECIAL    AN])   GENERAL  REVIEW. 

1.  If  you  had  a  dear  friend,  woidd  you  think  it  any 
mark  of  true  greatness  to  wantonly  injure  his  feelings  by 
often  speaking  his  name  reproachfully? 

2.  Would  you  have  a  right  to  expect  that  such  an  one 
would  remain  your  friend,  if  you  thus  repeatedly  used 
his  name  contemptuously ? 

3.  Some  persons  use  all  the  forms  of  an  oath,  omitting 
or  changing  the  most  objectionable  words.  What  would 
you  think  of  the  propriety  of  this  habit? 

4.  Would  you  think  it  respectful  to  raise  your  arm  and 
strike  a  blow  at  the  face  of  a  superior,  though  you  were 
ever  so  careful  not  to  really  hit  him?  (No  more  is  it 
safe  or  proper  to  use  the  forms  of  an  oath,  though  the 
most  irreverent  expressions  be  omitted.) 

5.  Some  persons  in  telling  a  story,  or  in  relating  the 
conversation  of  others,  repeat  the  profane  expressions  that 
have  been  made,  thinking  they  add  very  much  to  the  in- 
terest, or  show  the  parties  to  be  very  toitty.  What  would 
you  think  of  the  propriety  of  laughing  at,  or  repeating 
profane  expressions? 

6.  Do  you  think  that  it  is  your  duty  ever  to  reprove 
those  who  use  profane  language? 


LESSON  XV. 


BE  FAITHFUL  TO  EVERY  TEUST. 


NARRATIVE. 

The  Capture  of  Major  Andre. — One  of  the  saddest 
pages  in  the  history  of  the  American  Revolution  is  the 
treason  of  Arnold,  and,  in  consequence  of  it,  the  death  of 
Major  Andre.  Arnold,  you  know,  was  an  officer  in  the 
American  Army,  who,  though  brave,  had  a  proud  and 
impatient  spirit.  He  fancied  he  had  not  all  the  honor 
and  the  pay  due  for  his  services,  and  having  plunged  him- 
self into  debt  by  his  expensive  style  of  living,  these  things 
soured  his  heart;  and,  as  is  the  case  with  ungenerous 
minds,  he  never  acknowledged  a  fault  or  forgave  an  inju- 
ry. More  than  this,  he  sought  revenge  against  his  coun- 
trymen by  plotting  treason  against  his  country. 

Soon  after  forming  this  bad  design,  he  opened  a  seeret 
correspondence  with  the  English  general,  Henry  Clinton, 
and  at  the  same  time  asked  Washington  to  give  him  the 
command  of  West  Point,  an  important  fort  on  the  Hud- 
son river.  Washington  let  him  have  it,  and  this  he  de- 
termined to  betray  into  the  hands  of  the  enemy,  provided 
he  could  make  out  of  it  a  good  bargain  for  himself.  He 
wrote  to  Clinton  what  he  would  do,  and  asked  to  have  a 
secret  interview  with  some  English  officer,  in  order  to 
agree  upon  the  terms.  Clinton  was  delighted,  for  he 
thought  that  an  army  divided  against  itself  must  prove 
an  easy  conquest,  and  he  asked  Major  Andre,  a  gallant 
young  officer,  to  meet  Arnold  and  settle  the  price  of  his 
treason. 


FAITHFULNESS.  US 

Andre  did  not  wish  to  engage  in  such  business,  but  he 
obeyed  and  went  up  the  Hudson  in  an  English  sloop-of- 
war  for  this  purpose.  Arnold  agreed  to  meet  him  at  a 
certain  spot,  and,  when  night  came  on,  sent  a  little  boat 
to  bring  him  ashore.  He  landed  at  the  foot  of  a  moun- 
tain called  the  Long  Clove,  on  the  western  side  of  the 
river  a  few  miles  from  Haverstraw,  where  he  found  the 
traitor  hid  in  a  clump  of  bushes.  Little  did  poor  Andre 
foresee  the  fatal  consequences  of  this  step.  All  that  still 
starlight  night  the)'  sat  and  talked;  daylight  came,  and 
the  business  was  not  concluded.  Arnold  dismissed  the 
boatmen,  and  led  his  companion  to  a  solitary  farm-house 
on  the  river's  bank,  where  the  papers  were  finally  drawn 
up  and  hid  in  one  of  Andre's  stockings.  Andre  felt  how 
exposed  he  was  to  danger  in  the  enemy's  country,  and 
heartily  wished  himself  back  to  the  sloop. 

Forced  now,  however,  to  go  by  land,  Arnold  gave  him 
a  pass  to  go  through  the  American  lines,  and  at  sunset 
he  set  off'  on  horseback  with  a  guide.  They  crossed  the 
river,  and  getting  along  on  their  dangerous  journey  With 
but  few  alarms,  the  guide  left,  the  next  mormng,  and  An^ 
dre  rode  briskly  on.  congratulating  himself  upon  leaving; 
all  danger  behind,  for  he  was  rapidly  n earing  the  English 
lines,  when  all  at  once  there  was  a  loud  shout,  "stand," 
''halt,"  and  three  men  issued  from  the  woods,  one  seizing 
his  bridle  and  the  others  presenting  their  guns.  He  told: 
them  he  had  a  pass  to  White  Plains,  on  urgent  business . 
for  General  Arnold,  and  begged  them  not  to  detain  himr 
but,  somehow  or  other,  the  men,  suspecting  that  all  was 
not  right,  began  to  search  him,  and  hauling  off  his  boots, 
they  discovered  his  papers  in  his  stockings.  Seeing  him- 
self found  out,  he  offered  them  any  sum  of  money  to  let 
him  go.  "No,"  answered  the  sturdy  men,  "not  if  you 
would  give  us  ten  thousand  guineas ;"  for  though  poor. 


114  ELEMENTARY    MORAL  LESSONS. 

they  were  above  selling  their  country  at  any  price.  An- 
dre was  sent  a  prisoner  to  Washington's  camp.  Arnold 
on  learning  the  news  of  his  capture,  immediately  fled 
from  West  Point,  and  made  his  escape  to  the  English 
•  sloop. 

According  to  the  rules  of  war  poor  Major  Andre  was 
sentenced  to  the  death  of  a  spy.  Great  effort  was  made 
to  save  him.  General  Clinton  offered  any  sum  to  redeem 
him.  So  young,  so  amiable,  so  gallant,  and  to  meet  a 
felon's  doom!  but  in  ten  days  he  was  hung. 

Arnold  lived,  but  with  the  thirty  thousand  dollars — the 
price  of  his  treachery — he  lived  a  miserable  man,  des- 
pised even  by  those  who  bought  him.  And  one  impres- 
sive lesson  which  the  story  teaches  is,  that  the  consequen- 
ces of  guilt  do  not  fall  alone  on  the  guilty  man;  others  are 
often  involved  in  distress,  disgrace  and  ruin.  How  the 
helpless  children  of  the  drunkard  suffer  on  his  account! 
How  the  poor  wife  of  the  forger  passes  her  days  in  grief! 
How  vicious  children  bring  the  gray  hairs  of  their  pa- 
rents to  the  grave !  The  innocent  everywhere  suffer  with 
the  guilty,  for  we  are  all  bound  together  by  ties  which 
cannot  be  broken.  If  the  good  may  bless  us,  so  also  the 
bad  may  prove  a  curse  to  us.  What  a  motive  is  this  for 
you  to  lead  a  virtuous  life,  fearing  God  and  hating  every 
evil  way. 


QUESTIONS  FOR  ILLUSTRATION. 

1.  Have  you  ever  read  or  heard  of  any  one  who  has 
stood  at  his  post  of  duty,  even  when  danger  and  death 
seemed  to  be  very  near'?     Whom? 

2.  Have  you  ever  known  or  heard  of  any  one  who  de- 
serted the  post  of  duty  for  any  reason?     Whom? 


FAITHFULNESS.  115 

3.  Were  the  sentinels  who  arrested  Major  Andre, 
placed  in  a  position  of  greater,  or  less  responsibility,  than 
was  General  Arnold'? 

4.  Were  the  sentinels  more,  or  less  faithful  to  their 
duty,  than  was  General  Arnold  to  his'? 

5.  Which  deserves  the  more  honor,  the  person  who 
holds  a  very  small  trust,  and  yet  is  very  faithful  to  that 
trust,  or  a  person  who  holds  a  position  of  great  impor- 
tance, and  is  neglectful  of  its  duties? 

(3.  Which  will  be  the  longer  remembered  and  honored, 
the  three  faithful  sentinels  who  arrested  Major  Andre,  and 
refused  all  oners  to  release  him,  or  most  of  the  early  Gov- 
ernors of  the  States'? 

7.  When  persons  are  not  faithful  in  little  things,  what 
would  you  expect  of  them  in  greater  trusts] 


NARRATIVE. 

"I'll  do  it  Well." — There  lives  in  New  England  a 
gentleman  who  gave  me  the  following  interesting  account 
of  his  own  life.  He  was  an  apprentice  in  a  tin  manufac- 
tory. When  twenty-one  years  old  he  had  lost  his  health, 
so  that  he  was  entirely  unable  to  work  at  his  trade. 
Wholly  destitute  of  means,  he  was  thrown  out  upon  the 
world,  to  seek  any  employment  for  which  he  had  strength. 

He  said  he  went  out  to  find  employment  with  the  de- 
termination, that  whatever  he  did,  he  would  do  it  well. 
The  first  and  only  thing  he  found  that  he  could  do,  was  to 
black  boots  and  scour  knives  in  an  hotel.  This  he  did,  and 
did  it  well,  as  gentlemen  now  living  would  testify.     Tho' 


11(5  ELEMENTARY    MORAL    LESSONS. 

the  business  was  low  and  servile,  he  did  not  lay  aside  his 
self-respect,  or  allow  himself  to  be  made  mean  by  his 
business.  The  respect  and  confidence  of  his  employers 
were  soon  secured,  and  he  was  advanced  to  a  more  lucra- 
tive and  less  laborious  position. 

At  length  his  health  was  restored,  and  he  returned  to 
his  legitimate  business,  which  he  now  carries  on  very  ex- 
tensively. He  has  accumulated  an  ample  fortune,  and  is 
training  an  interesting  family  by  giving  them  the  best  ad- 
vantages for  mental  and  moral  cultivation.  He  now 
holds  an  elevated  place  in  the  community  where  he  lives. 

Young  men  who  may  chance  to  read  the  above  state- 
ment of  facts,  should  mark  the  secret  of  success.  The 
man's  whole  character,  of  whom  I  have  spoken,  was/brw- 
ed  and  directed  by  the  determination  to  do  whatever  he 
did,  well. 

Do  the  thing  you  are  doing  so  well  that  you  will  be 
respected  in  your  piace,  and  you  may  be  sure  it  will  be 
said  to  you,  "  Go  up  higher" 


8.  Is  it  degrading  to  any  one  to  attend,  faithful^  to 
the  smallest  duty? 

9.  Which  will  the  sooner  create  confidence  with  em- 
ployers, fine  clothes  and  polite  manners,  or  close  atten- 
tion to  their  interests? 


NARRATIVE. 

The  Prompt  Clerk. — 1  once  knew  a  young  man,  (said 
an  eminent  preacher  the  other  day,  in  a  sermon  to  young 
men,)  that  was  commencing  life  as  a  clerk.     One  day  his 


FAITHFULNESS.  117 

employer  said  to  him,  "Now,  to-morrow  that  cargo  of 
cotton  must  be  got  out  and  weighed,  and  we  must  have  a 
regular  account  of  it." 

He  was  a  young  man  of  energy.  This  was  the  first 
time  he  had  been  intrusted  to  superintend  the  execution 
of  this  work :  lie  made  hh  arrangements  over  night,  spoke 
to  the  men  about  their  carts  and  horses,  and,  resolving  to 
begin  very  early  in  the  morning,  he  instructed  all  the  la- 
borers to  be  there  at  half-past  four  o'clock.  So  they  set 
to  work,  and  the  thing  was  done ;  and  about  ten  or  eleven 
o'clock  in  the  day,  his  master  came  in,  and,  seeing  him 
sitting  in  the  counting-house,  looked  very  blank,  supposing 
that  his  commands  had  not  been  executed. 

"I  thought,"  said  the  master,  "you  were  requested  to 
get  out  that  cargo  of  cotton  this  morning." 

"It  is  all  done,"  said  the  young  man,  "and  here  is  the 
account  of  it." 

He  never  looked  behind  him  from  that  moment — 
never!  His  character  was  fixed,  confidence  was  estab- 
lished. He  was  fomid  to  be  the  man  to  do  the  thing  with 
promptness.  He  very  soon  came  to  be  the  one  that 
could  not  be  spared — he  was  as  necessary  to  the  firm  as 
any  one  of  the  partners.  He  was  a  religious  man,  and 
went  through  a  life  of  great  benevolence,  and  at  his  death 
was  able  to  leave  his  children  an  ample  fortune.  He  was 
not  smoke  to  the  eyes,  nor  vinegar  to  the  teeth,  but  just 
the  contrarv. 


11.  We  are  sometimes  in  the  service  of  others  where 
they  can  not  know  whether  we  are  attending  faithfully  to 
their  interests  or  not.  What  rule  of  conduct  should  we 
observe  under  such  circumstances'? 


118  ELEMENTARY    MORAL    LESSONS. 


VARIED  APPLICATION  OF  EIGHT  PRINCIPLES. 


QUESTIONS    FOR    SPECIAL    AND    GENERAL    REVIEW. 

1.  If  your  father  or  mother  were  dangerously  ill,  and 
the  attending  physician  should  omit  to  call  for  one  day, 
because  the  weather  was  very  stormy,  would  you  think  he 
was  faithful  to  his  duty? 

2.  Suppose  the  physician  should  omit  to  call  for  one 
day  when  your  relative  was  dangerously  ill,  because  he 
had  a  chance  to  make  one  hundred  dollars  by  staying  at 
home,  do  you  think  he  would  be  faithful  to  his  duty  ? 

3.  Suppose,  instead  of  coming  himself,  he  employs 
some  other  physician  to  attend  for  one  day,  because  he 
has  a  chance  to  make  fifty  dollars  in  some  way.  would 
this  be  faithfulness  to  duty? 

4.  But  if  your  friend  should  recover  just  as  well  as  if 
the  regular  physician  had  attended  every  day,  would  it 
make  any  difference  respecting  his  faithfulness  in  the 
case? 

5.  Suppose  a  boy  who  is  employed  in  a  store,  locks 
the  door  and  goes  away  fifteen  minutes  to  see  a  show  in 
the  streets,  does  he  do  his  duty? 

6.  But  if  no  one  calls  in  his  absence,  though  he  has 
been  out  of  sight  of  the  store  fifteen  minutes,  does  it 
make  any  difference  respecting  his  faithfulness? 

7.  If  a  boy  were  directed  by  his  father  to  carry  a  let- 
ter to  the  Post  Office  and  hand  it  to  the  Post  Master, 


NEATNESS.  119 

and,  because  he  wished  to  see  the  lire  companies  on  pa- 
rade, he  should  send  the  letter  by  another  boy,  would  he 
be  doing  his  duty'? 

8.  But  suppose  the  letter  should  really  be  placed  in 
the  Office  just  as  soon,  m&just  as  safely,  as  he  could  have 
done  it  himself,  would  the  son  have  done  his  duty? 

9.  Instead  of  wishing  to  see  the  parade  of  lire  com- 
panies, suppose  that  he  saw  a  storm  coming  up,  and  that 
he  should  send  the  letter  by  another  boy,  lest  he  should 
be  caught  in  the  rain,  would  he  be  doing  his  duty  ? 

1(5.  If,  while  on  his  way  to  the  Post  Office,  he  is  in- 
formed by  another  boy  that  the  Office  is  closed,  and  that 
he  cannot  get  in,  what  ought  he  to  do? 


LESSON  XVI. 


BE  NEAT. 


NARRATIVE. 


Neatness  a  Fortune. — In  a  recent  conversation  with 
a  wealthy  merchant,  he  remarked  that  whatever  he  had 
acquired  was  owing,  in  a  great  measure,  to  the  fact  that 
liis  mother  had  brought  him  up  to  be  neat  when  a  boy. 

His  story,  as  nearly  as  I  can  recollect  it,  was  as  fol- 
lows: 

"When  I  was  six  years  old,  my  father  died,  leaving 
nothing  to  my  mother  but  the  charge  of  myself  and  two 


120  ELEMENTARY    MORAL    LESSONS. 

younger  sisters.     After  selling  the  greater  portion  of  the 
household  furniture  she  had  owned,  she  took  two  small 

upper  rooms  in  W street,  and  there,  by  her  needle, 

contrived,  in  some  way — bow,  I  cannot  conceive,  when  I 
recollect  the  bare  pittance  for  which  she  worked — to  sup- 
port us  in  comfort.  Frequently,  however,  I  remember 
that  our  supper  consisted  simply  of  a  slice  of  bread,  sea., 
soned  by  hunger,  and  rendered  inviting  by  the  neat  man- 
ner in  which  our  repast  was  served,  our  table  being  al- 
ways spread  with  a  cloth,  which,  like  my  mother's  heart, 
seemed  ever  to  preserve  a  snow-white  purity." 
Wiping  his  eyes,  the  merchant  continued : 
"Speaking  of  those  days  reminds  me  of  the  time  when 
we  sat  down  to  the  old  table  one  evening,  when  my  moth- 
er had  asked  the  blessings  of  our  Heavenly  Father  on 
her  little  defenceless  ones,  in  tones  of  tender  pathos,  that 
I  remember  yet,  and  which,  if  possible,  I  think  must  have 
made  angels  weep,  she  divided  the  little  remnant  of  her 
only  loaf,  into  three  pieces,  placing  one  on  each  of  our 
plates,  but  reserving  none  for  herself.  I  stole  around  to 
her  side  and  placed  my  portion  before  her,  and  was  about 
to  tell  her  that  I  was  not  hungry,  when  a  flood  of  tears 
burst  from  her  eyes,  and  she  clasped  me  to  her  bosom. 
Our  meal  was  left  untouched,  we  sat  up  late  that  night, 
but  what  we  said,  I  cannot  tell.  I  know  that  my  mother 
talked  to  me  more  as  a  companion  than  a  child,  and  that 
when  we  knelt  down  to  pray,  I  consecrated  myself  to  be 
the  Lord's  and  to  serve  my  mother. 

"But,"  said  he,  "this  is  not  telling  you  how  neatness 
made  my  fortune.  It  was  sometime  after  this  that  my 
mother  found  an  advertisement  in  the  newspaper  for  an 
errand  boy  in  a  commission  store  in  B —  street.  With- 
out being  necessitated  to  wait  to  have  my  clothes  mended, 
for  my  mother  kept  them  in  perfect  order,  and  although 


NEATNESS.  121 

on  minute  inspection  they  bore  traces  of  more  than  one 
patch,  yet,  on  the  whole,  they  had  a  very  respectable  air ; 
without  being  obliged  to  wait  even  to  polish  my  shoes, 
for  my  mother  always  kept  a  box  of  blacking,  with  which 
my  cowhides  must  always  be  set  off  before  I  took  my 
breakfast;  without  waiting  to  arrange  my  hair,  for  I  was 
obliged  to  observe  from  my  earliest  youth,  the  most  per- 
fect neatness  in  every  respect,  my  mother  sent  me  to  see 
if  I  could  obtain  the  situation.  With  a  light  step,  I  start- 
ed, as  I  had  for  a  long  time  wished  my  mother  to  allow 
me  to  do  something  to  assist  her. 

"My  heart  beat  fast,  I  assure  you,  as  I  turned  out  of 

W into  B street,  and  made  my  way  along  to- 

the  number  my  mother  had  given  me.  I  summoned  all 
the  courage  I  could  muster,  and  stepped  briskly  into  the 
store,  found  my  way  to  the  counting-room,  and  made 
known  the  reason  of  my  calling.  The  merchant  smiled, 
and  told  me  that  there  was  another  boy  who  had  come 
in  a  little  before  me  he  thought  he  should  hire.  How- 
ever, he  asked  me  Tsome  questions,  and  then  went  and 
conversed  with  the  other  boy,  who  stood  in  the  back  part 
of  the  office.  The  result  was,  that  the  lad  who  had  first 
applied  was  dismissed,  and  I  entered  the  merchant's  em- 
ployment, first  as  an  errand-^oy,  then  as  a  clerk,  after- 
wards as  his  partner  until  his  aecease,  when  he  left  to  me 
the  whole  business,  stock,  &c.  After  I  had  been  in  his 
service  some  years,  he  told  me  the  reason  he  chose  me 
in  preference  to  the  other  boy,  was  because  of  the  general 
neatness  of  my  person,  while  in  reference  to  the  other  lad, 
he  noticed  that  he  had  neglected  properly  to  turn  down 
his  vest.  To  this  simple  circumstance  has  probably  been 
owing  the  greater  part  of  my  success  in  business/' 

Will  not  all  my  young  friends  who  read  this  narrative 
of  the  successful  merchant,  like  him.  form  in  their  vouth 

15 


122  ELEMENTARY    MORAL    LESSONS. 

habits  of  neatness?  Remember  that  no  one  will  love  a 
slovenly  boy  or  girl,  and  if  you  would  secure  the  respect 
of  your  acquaintances,  you  must  be  very  careful  in  re- 
spect to  your  personal  appearance.  Purity  and  cleanli- 
ness of  person  are  indispensable  to  the  highest  purity  of 
character. 


QUESTIONS    FOR    ILLUSTRATION. 

1.  Is  it  probable  that  persons,  who  are  not  themselves 
neat  in  their  habits,  like  to  see  neatness  in  others'? 

2.  Some  persons  do  not  give  much  attention  to  per- 
sonal cleanliness  for  the  reason  that  it  takes  so  much  time. 
Do  you  think  this  a  good  0x01180? 

3.  Other  persons  excuse  themselves  from  attention  to 
cleanliness  because  they  are  poor.  Is  poverty  any  excuse 
for  filthy  habits? 

4.  Might  the  mother,  in  the  last  narrative,  have  offered 
poverty  as  an  excuse  for  dirty  children,  as  well  as  any 
one?  Did  it  cost  this  good  mother  a  very  great  sum  to 
keep  her  children  neat? 

5.  Is  it  probable  that  the  habits  of  cleanliness  which 
these  children  practiced,  was  any  cause  of  suffering  to 
them? 

<>.  Do  you  suppose  that  persons  who  are  very  particu- 
lar in  their  habits  of  cleanliness,  can  perform  as  much  la- 
bor or  as  much  study,  as  others? 

?.  But  some  very  useful  employments  make  it  neces- 
sary that  those  who  follow  them  should  be  in  the  midst 
<  >f  smoke,  or  dust,  or  dirt,  for  a  time.     What  advice  could 


NEATNESS.  1 23 

you  give  to  such  persons,  respecting  cleanliness  and  neat- 
ness? 

8.  What  advice  on  the  subject  of  neatness  and  personal 
appearance,  would  you  give  to  children,  or  to  the  unfor- 
tunate, who  desire  kind  attentions  from  friends  or  from 

strangers? 


EXTRACT. 

Personal  Appearance  of  Children. — Some  writer, 
but  his  name  we  do  not  know,  holds  the  following  ration- 
al discourse  in  relation  to  the  dressing  of  children : 

Send  two  children  into  the  street ;  let  one  be  a  bare- 
headed, bare-footed  ragmuffin,  with  a  face  which  perhaps 
never  had  but  one  thorough  washing,  hair  that  never  heard 
of  any  comb,  and  nobody  would  think  of  giving  him  a 
hand  to  help  him  through  any  mud-puddle  or  over  any 
gutter;  or  if  he  should  get  run  over  in  the  street,  you 
would  hear  no  other  remark,  than  that  he  was  a  dirty  dog, 
and  might  have  got  out  of  the  way.  On  the  other  hand, 
send  a  sweet  girl  into  the  street,  looking  like  a  new  blown 
rose,  with  the  glistening  dew-drops  hanging  from  its  leaves, 
and  above  all,  her  face  as  clean  as  air,  as  transparent  as 
you  know  her  untainted  mind  is  under  all  this,  and  there 
is  not  a  chimney  sweep  so  low  that  he  would  not  give  her 
the  side-walk;  nor  a  clown,  even  among  the  clownish, 
who  would  not,  if  he  dared  touch  her,  wipe  his  hands  up- 
on his  clothes,  and  with  delight  carry  her  over  the  cross- 
ings rather  than  that  she  should  soil  even  the  sole  of  her 
slipper. 

9.  When  is  it  proper  to  begin  to  practice  habits  of 
neatness  ? 


124  ELEMENTARY    MORAL    LESSONS. 

10.  What  slovenly  and  dirty  habits  ought  pupils  to 
avoid  in  the  school-room? 

11.  If  pupils  should  never  come  into  the  school-room 
with  dirt  upon  their  shoes  or  clothes,  never  spit  upon  the 
floor,  and  never  allow  papers  or  litter  of  any  kind  about 
their  seats,  in  what  ways  would  the  teacher  and  all  of  the 
pupils  be  thereby  benefitted'? 

12.  Where  would  you  first  look  for  virtuous  conduct, 
among  persons  of  very  neat  personal  appearance,  or  among 
persons  of  careless,  slovenly,  filthy  habits'? 

13.  Which  would  you  think  the  more  becoming  in  a 
lady  or  gentleman,  a  very  expensive  dress — yet  soiled 
with  dirt  and  grease,  or  a  very  plain  dress — yet  scrupu- 
lous! y  neat  and  clean? 


LESSON   XVII. 


RIGHT  ACTIONS  SHOULD  SPRING  FROM  RIGHT  MOTIVES. 


NARRATIVE. 

The  way  witii  some   People. — Deacon  S once 

employed  a  cobbler  to  take  a  few  stitches  in  a  boot,  for 
which  service  he  was  asked  half  a  dollar.  The  demand 
was  considered  exorbitant;  but  the  deacon  was  not  a  man 
to  have  trouble  with  his  neighbor  on  a  trifling  matter,  so, 
without  a  word  of  objection,  it  was  cancelled.  "All  will 
come  round  right  in  the  end,"  he  said  to  himself 


motives'.  125 

Next  morning,  the  deacon,  who  was  a  farmer,  was  on 
his  way  to  his  field  with  oxen  and  plough,  when  the  cob- 
bler came  out  of  his  shop  and  accosted  him. 

"  Good  morning,  deacon.  You're  just  the  man  I  hoped 
to  see.  The  case  is,  I've  hired  the  field  yonder,  and  am 
going  to  sow  it  with  wheat;  but  being  no  former  myself, 
I  wish  you  would  stop  and  give  me  a  little  insight  into 
the  business." 

The  other  was  about  to  excuse  himself,  for  he  felt  par- 
ticularly anxious  to  finish  a  piece  of  ploughing  that  day, 
which  he  could  not  if  detained  at  all,  when  remembering 
the  boot-mending,  thought  he,  "  The  afiair  is  coming  right 
so  soon.  Here  is  an  opportunity  for  illustrating  the  Gold- 
en Rule,  and  returning  good  for  evil.  I  will  render  the 
assistance  he  needs,  and  when  he  asks  what's  to  pay,  will 
answer,  '  Nothing,  sir,  nothing.  I  never  make  account  of 
these  little  neighborly  kindnesses.'  That  will  remind 
him  of  yesterday." 

So  the  deacon  readily  consented  to  do  as  requested,  and 
going  over  to  the  field,  commenced  and  finished  sowing 
a  bushel  of  grain ;  scarcely  thinking,  meantime,  of  how 
his  team  was  standing  idle  in  the  cool  of  the  day ;  but 
glorying  in  anticipation  of  the  smart  his  neighbor  would 
suffer  from  the  living  coals  about  to  be  heaped  upon  his 
head.  The  employer,  who,  seated  on  a  pile  of  stones  in 
the  centre  of  the  field,  had  watched  the  process  in  silence, 
now  rose  to  his  feet,  and  very  deliberately  advanced  to- 
wards the  obliging  farmer. 

"Now  for  my  revenge,"  thought  the  latter,  seeing  him 
about  to  speak;  but  the  other  only  carelessly  remarked, 
"It  isn't  much  to  do  a  thing  when  one  knows  how." 

The  deacon  made  no  reply,  but  stood  awaiting  the 
question,  "  How  much  do  you  ask  for  your  labor  1 "  He 
waited  in  vain,  however;  the  question  was  not  asked. — 


12(5  ELEMENTARY    MORAL    LESSONS. 

The  other  began  to  speak  on  indifferent  topics;  and  the 
farmer,  unwilling  to  lose  more  time,  turned  and  hurried 
away  to  where  he  had  left  his  team.  He  had  gone  some 
distance  along  the  road,  when  a  voice  was  heard  calling, 
"Hallo,  deacon.     Hold  on  there  a  minute." 

The  deacon  turned  his  head,  and  his  neighbor,  the  cob- 
bler, beckoned  him  back. 

"He's  just  thought  of  it,"  said  the  deacon  to  himself, 
half  impatient  at  being  again  stopped.  "My  triumph  is 
to  cost  about  as  much  as  'tis  worth,  but  I'll  have  it  after 
all.     Urge  as  he  may,  I  won't  take  a  single  dime." 

So  saying,  he  secured  his  oxen  to  a  post  by  the  road- 
side, and  ran  back  as  far  as  the  wall,  against  the  opposite 
side  of  which  the  cobbler  was  carelessly  leaning. 

"Why,  how  you  puff,  deacon;  there's  no  special  haste 
called  for.  I  merely  thought  to  ask  whether  you  don't 
imagine  we  shall  have  rain  soon.  You  farmers  pay  more 
attention  to  these  things  than  we  mechanics  do?" 

The  deacon  coughed  a  full  minute,  and  then  answered 
that  he  "really  could'nt  say,  but  it  seemed  pretty  near 
cool  enough  for  snow;"  and  giving  this  opinion,  he  once 
more  set  his  face  farm  ward;  musing  as  he  went,  whether 
it  might  not  have  been  well  to  have  attached  to  the  Gold- 
en Rule  a  modifying  clause,  suited  to  dealing  with  such 
people  as  his  neighbor  of  the  awl  and  last. 

The  deacon  loves,  to  this  day,  to  tell  the  story  and 
laugh  over  it;  but  he  never  fails  to  add,  "  Well,  well,  it 
ended  just  as  it  should;  inasmuch  as  I  was  wickedly  cal- 
culating on  rejoicing  over  my  neighbors  humiliation" 


QUESTIONS  FOR  ILLUSTRATION. 

1.  Was  it  right  in  Deacon  S.  to  assist  his  neighbor  in 
sowing  his  wheat? 


MOTIVES.  127 

2.  Would  it  have  been  right  for  him  to  have  charged 
his  neighbor  a  reasonable  price  for  his  services? 

3.  But  the  deacon  did  not  charge  his  neighbor  anything 
for  the  assistance  he  rendered  him.  Do  you  see  anything 
wrong  in  the  deacon's  conduct? 

4.  If  the  Deacon  really  intended  to  render  his  neighbor 
some  assistance,  in  return  for  an  injury  he  had  received^ 
with  what  motive  should  he  have  undertaken  to  do  so? 

5.  May  persons  be  guilty  of  great  crimes,  and  yet  dh 
no  wrong? 

6.  If  a  person  should  try  to  break  into  your  house  to 
steal  your  goods  or  your  money,  but  should  not  succeed 
because  he  was  discovered,  would  he  be  guilty  of  stealing! 
Why* 

7.  If  a  person  should  try  to  take  the  life  of  another,  but 
should  not  succeed  because  he  was  so  closely  watched, 
would  that  person  be  guilty  of  murder? 

8.  Suppose  you  had  been  late  to  school  this  morning, 
and  you  had  made  up  your  mind  that,  if  called  upon  for 
an  excuse,  you  would  give  some  other  reason  than  the 
true  one;  but  you  did  not  happen  to  be  called  upom 
Would  you  be  guilty  of  any  wrong  1 

9.  Suppose  you  had  whispered  this  morning,  and,  fear- 
ing you  would  suffer  some  penalty  if  you  confessed  it, 
you  had  made  up  your  mind  that  if  the  scholars  who  had 
whispered  were  called  upon  to  arise,  you  would  not  do  so: 
but  such  scholars  were  not  called  on.  Would  you  be 
guilty  of  any  wrong? 

10.  Suppose  you  are  very  anxious  to  see  the  fire  com- 


128  ELEMENTARY    MORAL    LESSONS. 

panies  on  parade,  and  you  determine  that  if  your  mother 
will  not  let  you  go,  you  will  run  away  and  see  them. 
But  when  you  ask  her,  she  says  "yes,  you  may  go."  If 
you  then  go,  will  you  be  guilty  of  any  disobedience  to; 
your  mother? 

11.  May  persons  deserve  credit  for  virtuous  deeds 
which  they  have  never  performed'? 

12.  If  a  rich  man,  desiring  to  help  a  poor  family,  should 
give  them  ten  dollars  to  buy  food  and  clothing,  and  a  very 
poor  man,  just  as  anxious  to  help  the  same  family,  should 
give  them  ten  cents  for  the  same  purpose,  which  of  the 
men  do  you  think  would  deserve  the  more  credit? 

13.  If  a  boy,  very  anxious  to  help  his  poor  father, 
should  earn  five  dollars  for  him  in  a  month  and  bring  it 
home  to  him,  and  a  little  sister,  just  as  anxious  to  help 
her  mother,  should  work  just  as  hard,  one  month,  and 
earn  two  dollars  and  bring  to  her,  which  do  you  think 
would  deserve  the  more  credit? 

14.  If  a  boy,  very  anxious  to  help  his  father,  should 
work  a  month  and  earn  five  dollars  for  him,  while  the 
sister,  who  had  undertaken  to  earn  just  as  much  for  her 
mother,  should  be  taken  sick  and  use  all  of  her  money 
for  medicine  and  assistance,  which  would  deserve  the 
more  credit? 

15.  If  you  were  to  do  well  from  good  motives,  at  the 
time,  and  should  afterwards  boast  of  your  good  deeds, 
or  take  pains  to  have  others  know  them,  would  you  still 
deserve  credit  for  doing  well? 


MOTIVES,  129 


NARRATIVE. 


The  Drayman. — An  honest  drayman  was  standing  on 
the  wharf,  when  a  little  boy  fell  into  the  water.  No  one 
exerted  himself  to  rescue  the  child,  and  the  stream  was 
fast  bearing  him  away.  The  poor  drayman  seeing  this, 
sprang  into  the  water,  swam  to  the  child,  took  him  in  his 
arms  and  brought  him  safely  to  the  wharf.  He  put  him 
in  the  care  of  one  who  promised  to  see  him  safely  home, 
wrhile  the  drayman  resumed  his  labors  as  if  nothing  had 
happened.  On  his  return  home,  the  drayman's  family 
were  surprised  at  his  humid  appearance,  and  made  a  num- 
ber of  inquiries,  to  which  he  gave  unsatisfactory  answers, 
and  it  was  passed  off  as  a  subject  beneath  their  inquiry. 
About  two  Y\'eeks  after  this  occurrence,  on  going  home, 
the  drayman  found  three  persons  waiting  his  arrival — a 
man  with  his  wife  and  child.  "That  is  the  man,  father, 
that  is  the  man,"  exclaimed  the  boy.  The  father  sprang 
from  his  seat  and  threw  his  arms  around  the  neck  of  the 
drayman,  and  expressed  his  gratitude  in  tears. 

"Come,  sir,"  said  he,  "come  and  visit  a  family  which 
you  have  saved  from,  destruction — take  the  blessings  of  a 
father  and  mother,  who,  but  for  your  intervention,  would 
have  been  overwhelmed  in  sorrow — whose  only  son  you 
have  rescued  from  the  watery  element." 

This  was  the  first  knowledge  the  drayman's  family  had 
of  the  circumstance,  When  the  conversation  turned  on 
his  silence,  he  made  no  other  relpy  than  to  read  the  fol- 
lowing verses  from  the  Bible: 

"Take  heed  that  ye  do  not  your  alms  before  men,  to 
be  seen  of  them,  otherwise  ye  have  no  reward  of  your 
Father  who  is  in  Heaven. — Therefore  when  thou  doest 
thine  aims,  do  not  sound  a  trumpet  before  thee  as  the 
hypocrites  do   in  the  synagogues  and  in  the  streets,  that 


130  ELEMENTARY    MORAL    LESSONS. 

they  may  have  glory  of  men ;  verily  I  say  unto  you,  they 
have  their  reward.  But  when  thou  doest  thine  alms,  let 
not  thy  left  hand  [here  the  drayman  cast  a  glance  round 
upon  his  family,]  know  what  thy  right  hand  cloeth,  that 
thine  alms  may  he  in  secret,  and  thy  Father  who  seeth 
in  secret  shall  reward  thee  openly." 

Such  a  spirit  of  Christian  benevolence,  we  desire  to  be 
possessed  by  every  child.  We  should  not  value  our  own 
convenience — our  life  even — if  we  can  save  another  from 
death.  Nor  should  we  spread  abroad  our  good  deeds. 
It  is  sufficient  for  us  to  know  that  our  heavenly  Father 
approves  of  what  we  have  done.  He  knoweth  when  we 
are  useful,  and  he  will  not  let  us  lose  our  reward. 


16.     How  many  things  do  you  see  in  the  conduct  of 
the  drayman  to  approve? 


VARIED  APPLICATION  OF  EIGHT  PRINCIPLED 


QUESTIONS    FOR    SPECIAL  AND  GENERAL  REVIEW. 

1.  Suppose  a  father  should  privately  say  to  his  son, 
"John,  if  you  will  help  me  in  the  field  to-day,"  I  will  give 
you  fifty  cents  at  night,"  and  to  James,  privately,  "if  you 
will  help  me  in  the  field  to-day,  you  may  go  a  hunting 
to-morrow,"  and  to  Henry,  privately,  "if  you  will  help 
me  to-day,  you  may  go  with  me  to  visit  your  cousins 
next  week,"  and  to  George,  privately,  "I  have  much  to 
do  to-day,  are  you  willing  to  help  your  father  in  the  field?" 
and  he  cheerfully  says,  yes,  sir,  and  all  work  through  the 
day,  John  for  money,  James  for  the  pleasure  of  hunting, 


•   INDUSTRY PERSEVERANCE.  131 

Jlenry  for  the  promised  pleasure  of  a  visit,  and  George. 
because  he  loves  Ids  father.  Which  works  from  the  best 
motive,  and  which  deserves  the  most  credit? 

2.  Pupils  sometimes  study  very  diligently  with  the  sin- 
gle purpose  of  being  first  in  their  class.  Is  there  any 
other  motive  which  should  incite  a  scholar  to  study?  Is 
there  any  higher  motive? 

&  Children  are  sometimes  very  attentive  to  the  com- 
mands and  wishes  of  their  parents,  and  very  diligent  in 
assisting  them  for  a  little  time,  for  the  reason  that  they 
intend  to  ask  the  privilege  of  going  to  a  pleasure  excur- 
sion, or  of  visiting  an  afternoon  with  some  friends.  What 
other  motive  sometimes  prompts  children  to  fee  just  as 
faithful  and  just  as  obedient  to  parents?  What  higher 
motive  % 

\.  Persons  sometimes  refrain  from  angry  feelings  and 
unkind  words,  lest  they  should  offend  the  company  pres- 
ent, or  lose,  thereby,  some  favorite  enjoyment.  What 
other  motive  should  cause  one  to  control  angry  feelings 
and  refrain  from  unkind  words?     What  higher  motive? 


LESSON  XVIII. 


LABOR  CONQUERS  ALL  THINGS. 


NARRATIVE. 

The  Panorama  Boy. — Some  years  ago,  a  boy^was  sit- 
ting with  folded  hands,  in  a  tiny  skiff,  on  the  bosom  of 


132  ELEMENTARY    MORAL    LESSONS. 

the  mighty  Mississippi.  The  setting  sun  was  shining  on 
the  water,  and  on  the  beautiful  banks  of  the  river,  rich 
with  different  colored  foliage.  So  full  was  the  mind  of 
the  boy  with  wonder  and  delight  that  he  let  the  boat  glide 
on  unheeded,  while  he  still  sat  gazing  on  the  banks  of  the 
river.  He  had  heard  that  America  was  richer  in  beauti- 
ful scenery  than  any  other  country  in  the  world,  and  as 
he  glided  on  looking  around  him  he  believed  the  saying, 
and  then  came  into  his  mind  the  desire  and  resolve  to  be- 
come an  artist,  that  he  might  paint  the  magnificent  scenes 
of  his  native  land. 

This  boy's  name  was  Banvard,  and  the  resolution  he 
made  to  paint  the  largest  picture  in  the  world  was  never 
given  up  by  him  till  it  was  accomplished.  When  we 
think  for  a  moment  of  a  fatherless,  moneyless  lad,  paint- 
ing a  picture  covering  three  miles  of  surface,  and  repre- 
senting a  range  of  scenery  three  thousand  miles  in  extent, 
well  may  we  be  ashamed  in  giving  up  anything  worth 
pursuing  merely  because  it  costs  us  a  little  trouble.  One 
might  also  think  that  young  Banvard  had  taken  for  his 
motto  the  words  which  I  saw  in  a  book  lately : — 

"  Tliink  well  before  you  pursue  it ; 
But  when  you  begin,  go  through  it." 

When  his  father  died,  John  was  left  a  poor,  friendless 
lad,  and  obtained  employment  with  a  druggist;  but  so 
fond  was  he  of  sketching  the  likenesses  of  those  about 
him  on  the  walls  with  chalk  or  coal,  that  his  master  told 
him  he  made  better  likenesses  than  pills;  so  poor  John 
lost  his  situation.  He  then  tried  other  plans,  and  met 
with  many  disappointments;  but  at  last  he  succeeded  in 
obtaining  as  much  money  as  he  thought  would  enable  him 
to  paint  his  great  picture. 

He  had  to  go  through  great  danger  and  trouble  before 
he  could  take  all  his  sketches,  spread  over  a  distance  of 


INDUSTRY PERSEVERANCE.  133 

thive  thousand  miles.  Having  bought  a  small  skiff,  he 
set  off  alone  on  his  perilous  adventure.  He  traveled 
thousands  of  miles,  crossing  the  Mississippi  backwards 
and  forwards  to  secure  the  best  points  for  making  his 
sketches.  All  day  long  he  went  on  sketching,  and  when 
the  sun  was  about  to  set  he  either  shot  wild  fowl  on  the 
river,  or  hauling  his  little  boat  ashore,  went  into  the  woods 
with  his  rifle  to  shoot  game.  After  cooking  and  eating 
his  supper,  he  turned  his  boat  over  on  the  ground,  and 
crept  under  it.  rolling  himself  up  in  his  blanket  to  sleep 
for  the  night,  safe  from  the  falling  dews  and  prowling  an- 
imals. Sometimes  for  weeks  together  he  never  spoke  to 
a  human  being.  In  this  maimer  he  went  on  sketching  for 
more  than  four  hundred  days,  before  the  necessary  draw- 
ings were  finished,  and  then  he  set  to  work  in  earnest  to 
paint  his  picture. 

They  were  only  sketches  that  he  made  in  his  wander- 
ings. After  these  were  completed  he  had  to  buy  colors 
and  canvass,  and  to  erect  a  large  wooden  building  where 
he  might  paint  his  picture  without  interruption. 

I  have  now  told  you  about  the  Panorama ;  when  it  was 
finished  it  covered  three  miles  of  canvass,  and  represent- 
ed a  range  of  scenery  three  thousand  miles  in  extent,  and 
that  all  this  magnificent  work  was  executed  b}^  a  poor, 
fatherless,  moneyless  lad,  ought  to  make  us  ashamed  of 
giving  up  any  undertaking  worth  pursuing,  merely  because 
it  would  cost  us  some  trouble. 


QUESTIONS  FOR  ILLUSTRATION. 

1.  Which  would  probably  feel  the  happier,  John  Ban- 
vard  alone,  busily  at  work,  in  the  wilderness,  or  the  boy 
surrounded  with  friends  and  every  luxury,  but  with  noth- 
ing to  do? 

1G 


134  ELEMENTARY    MORAL    LESSONS. 

2.  Does  a  person  feel  more,  or  less  happy  who  has  a 
great  and  good  object  before  him  to  accomplish,  than  the 
person  who  has  no  plan  before  him,  and  no  labor  to  do? 

o.  Which  is  better,  to  try  to  do  something  very  useful 
and  yet  very  difficult,  and  fail  in  our  object,  or  not  to  at- 
tempt to  do  anything  at  all  \ 

4.  Which  affords  us  the  greater  pleasure,  to  do  what 
is  very  difficult  to  be  done,  or  to  do  what  is  very  easy  to 
be  done? 

5.  Which  affords  us  the  greater  pleasure,  to  do  what 
is  very  easy  to  be  done,  if  it  is  useful,  or  to  do  nothing  at 
all? 

6.  Some  persons  seem  to  suppose  that  it  is  very  de- 
grading to  do  any  thing  useful.  What  is  your  opinion 
of  this? 

7.  Some  persons  think  that  some  useful  employments 
are  honorable,  and  that  other  employments,  equally  use- 
ful, are  very  degrading.     What  do  you  think  of  this? 

8.  If  a  man  does  his  duty  well,  which  is  the  more  hon- 
orable employment,  to  plough  in  the  fields,  or  to  weigh 
out  sugar  and  tea? 

9.  Which  is  the  more  honorable  employment,  to  write 
in  an  office,  or  to  lay  brick  or  stone  in  the  erection  of 
buildings? 


NARRATIVE. 


What  a  Hod-Man  can  Do. — Many  persons  turn  up 
their  noses  at  what  they  call  ''dirty  work,"*  as  though  all 


INDUSTRY PERSEVERANCE.  135 

honest  labor  was  not  cleaner  than  many  kid-gloved  ways 
of  swindling  one's  self  through  the  world.  Rather  than 
owe  our  living  to  the  latter,  we  would  infinitely  prefer 
to  shake  carpets  or  sweep  chimneys  at  fifty  cents  a  day. 
A  day  or  two  since  we  learned  an  instructive  bit  of  his- 
tory touching  a  doer  of  "dirty  work" — a  hod-man.  No 
matter  where  he  was  born;  he  was  none  the  worse  for 
being  a  Turkman  or  an  Irishman. 

He  went  to  New  York  about  ten  years  ago,  young, 
healthy  and  honest.  He  could  get  no  employment  but 
hod-carrying,  and  he  carried  so  well  as  to  earn  at  once 
his  dollar  a  day.  He  procured  good,  but  cheap,  board 
and  lodgings ;  spent  none  of  his  earnings  in  groceries  or 
low  places;  attended  church  on  the  Sabbath;  educated 
himself  evenings,  laid  up  money,  and  at  the  end  of  five 
years  bought  a  lot  in  the  city,  and  built  a  pretty  cottage. 
In  one  year  more  he  found  a  good  wife,  and  used  the  cot- 
tage he  had  before  rented  out.  For  this  six  years  he  had 
steadily  carried  the  hod. 

He  was  a  noted  worker,  an  acknowledged  scholar,  and 
a  noble  pattern  of  a  man.  On  the  opening  of  the  eighth 
year,  his  talents  and  integrity  were  called  to  a  more  prof- 
itable account.  He  embarked  as  a  partner  in  a  profes- 
sional business,  already  well  established.  This  day  he  is 
worth  at  least  $100,000;  he  has  a  lovely  wife,  and  two 
beautiful  children ;  a  home  that  is  the  center  of  a  brilliant 
social  and  intellectual  circle,  and  he  is  one  of  the  happiest 
and  most  honored  of  men,  so  far  as  he  is  known.  So 
much  has  come  of  a  hod-man. 


10.  Is  carrying  mortar  to  build  a  building  a  useful  em- 
ployment? Is  it  an  honest  employment'?  Why  need 
any  man  be  ashamed  to  carry  mortar  to  build  a  building? 


136  ELEMENTARY    MORAL    LESSONS. 

11.  Among  pupils  in  school,  there  are  some  that  learn 
much,  and  many  that  learn  little.  What  makes  the  dif- 
ference, where  the  advantages  seem  nearly  equal? 


NARRATIVE. 

A  Great  American  Scholar. — Some  seventy  or  more 
years  ago,  there  lived  in  Salem,  Massachusetts,  a  poor 
boy,  who  had  determined  to  get  an  education.  He  was 
confined  in  a  shop  through  the  day,  and  had  but  few  ad- 
vantages and  little  time  for  carrying  out  his  design.  He 
was  not  discouraged,  however,  but  persevered  like  a  hero, 
and  every  month  witnessed  his  progress  toward  the  object 
of  his  ambition.  That  boy  was  afterwards  known 
throughout  the  civilized  world  as  Dr.  Bowditch,  one  of 
the  most  learned  and  famous  scientific  men  our  country 
has  ever  produced.  But  all  that  Bowditch  knew,  he 
learned ;  and  all  that  he  learned,  he  acquired  by  diligent 
and  persevering  application.  You  can  form  some  idea 
of  his  indomitable  perseverance,  from  a  little  incident 
that  is  related  of  him.  While  he  was  a  boy,  a  valuable 
private  library,  which  had  been  captured  at  sea,  arrived 
in  Salem.  These  books  were  a  rare  prize  for  those  days, 
and  young  Bowditch  borrowed  a  number  of  them  from 
the  person  who  had  charge  of  them.  The  volumes  were 
retained  longer  than  was  necessary  for  a  simple  perusal, 
and  it  was  afterwards  ascertained  that  the  young  student 
was  so  anxious  to  possess  them,  that  he  actually  copied 
twenty  ponderous  folio  and  quarto  volumes  of  scientific 
works,  and  thus  made  them  his  own?  These  volumes, 
which  at  that  time  he  dare  not  think  of  purchasing,  were 
of  great  service  to  him  in  after  years;  and  his  children 
have  carefully  preserved  them,  as  precious  memorials  of 
the  perseverance  of  their  father, 


INDUSTRY PERSEVERANCE.  1  37 

12.  Did  Dr.  Bowditch  labor  any  harder  than  most 
students  are  willing  to  labor?  Did  he  know  anything 
that  he  did  not  labor  to  acquire  I 

13.  Many  things  seem  quite  impossible  to  some  per- 
sons, and  (Uiite  possible  to  others.  Can  yon  give  any 
reason  for  this  difference  ] 


NARRATIVE. 

Few  things  Impossible. — "It  is  impossibJe,"  said  some 
when  Peter  the  Great  determined  to  set  out  on  a  voyage 
of  discovery,  through  the  cold,  northern  regions  of  Sibe- 
ria, and  over  immense  desserts;  but  Peter  was  not  to  be 
discouraged,  and  the  thing  was  done. 

•■It  is  impossible,"  said  many,  when  they  heard  of  a 
scheme  of  the  good  Oberlin's.  To  benefit  his  people,  he 
had  determined  to  open  a  communication  with  the  high 
road  to  Strasbourg,  so  that  the  productions  of  de  la  Roche. 
(his  own  village)  might  find  a  market.  Rocks  were  to 
be  blasted  and  conveyed  to  the  banks  of  the  river  Brnche. 
in  sufficient  quantity  to  build  a  wall  for  a  road  along  its 
banks,  a  mile  and  a  half,  and  a  bridge  across  it.  lie 
reasoned  with  his  people,  but  they  still  thought  it  was  im- 
possible. But  he  seized  a  pick-axe,  put  it  across  his 
shoulder,  proceeded  to  the  spot,  and  went  to  work:  and 
the  peasants  soon  followed  him  with  their  tools.  The 
road  and  bridge  were  at  length  built,  and  to  this  day,  the 
bridge  bears  the  name  of  the  "Bridge  of  Charity." 

"It  is  impossible,'"  said  some,  as  they  looked  at  the 
impenetrable  forests  which  covered  the  rugged  flags  and 
deep  gorges  of  Mount  Pilatus,  in  Switzerland,  and  heark- 
ened to  the  daring  plan  of  a  man  named  Rupp,  to  convey 


138  ELEMENTARY    MORAL    LESSONS. 

the  pines  from  the  top  of  the  mountain  to  the  lake  of  Lu- 
cerne, a  distance  of  nearly  nine  miles.  Without  being 
discouraged  by  their  exclamations,  he  formed  a  slide  or 
trough,  of  24.000  pine  trees,  six  feet  broad,  and  from 
three  to  six  feet  deep;  and  this  slide,  which  was  comple- 
ted in  1812.  was  kept  moist.  Its  length  was  44.000  Eng- 
lish feet. 

It  had  to  be  conducted  over  rocks  or  along  their  sides, 
or  under  ground,  or  over  deep  gorges,  where  it  was  sus- 
tained by  scaffolds;  and  yet  skill  and  perseverance  over- 
came every  obstacle,  and  the  thing  was  done.  The  trees 
rolled  down  from  the  mountain  into  the  lake  with  won- 
derful rapidity.  The  larger  pines,  which  were  100  feet 
long,  ran  through  the  space  of  eight  miles  and  a  third  in 
about  six  minutes. 

A  gentleman  who  saw  this  great  work,  says,  "that 
such  was  the  speed  with  which  a  tree  of  the  largest  size 
passed  any  given  point,  that  he  could  only  strike  it  once 
with  a  stick  as  it  rushed  by,  however  cpiickly  he  attempt- 
ed to  repeat  the  blows. 

Say  not  hastily,  then,  "it  is  impossible."  It  may  be  so 
to  do  a  thing  in  an  hour,  a  day,  or  a  week.  But  resolve, 
and  then  act;  and  'persevere  in  your  work.  "Time  and 
patience,"  says  a  Spanish  author,  "make  the  mulberry 
leaf  into  satin." 


LESSON  XIX. 


BE    HONEST    IN    "LITTLE    THINGS,1'    ITEtGIIT  IN   ALL 
THINGS. 


NARRATIVE. 

Temptatiqs  not  Resisted. — The  following  is  the  ease 
of  a  boy  who  yielded  to  temptation,  and  will  show  the 
dreadful  eonsecjuences  which  followed. 

The  boy  alluded  to  was  the  son  of  pious  parents  in  the 
country;  he  had  received  much  faithful  instruction,  and 
doubtless  had  been  the  subject  of  many  prayers.  His 
appearance  was  such  as  to  excite  affection  and  confidence, 
and  his  preparedness  for  business  was  ample.  With 
these  advantages  he  was  placed  in  the  store  of  a  mer- 
chant of  the  best  character  in  Boston.  His  master  found 
him  faithful  and  industrious;  placed  great  confidence  in 
him;  committed  much  property  to  his  care;  and  was 
often  congratulated  on  having  so  good  a  boy,  who  bid 
fair  to  make  i:a  first-rate  man  of  business." 

But,  alas !  it  was  not  many  months  before  this  fair  pros- 
pect was  overclouded.  The  merchant  heard  that  his  fa- 
vorite boy  was  seen  at  a  Theatre!  Knowing  he  had  no 
money  to  pay  for  this  wicked  amusement,  he  doubted  the 
report;  but  being  assured  of  its  correctness,  he  took  him 
aside,  and  with  much  feeling  told  him  what  he  had  heard, 
and  inquired  if  it  was  possible  for  him  to  be  seen  in  such 
a  place?  Finding  he  was  detected,  the  boy  confessed  the 
whole  matter;  from  which  it  appeared,  that  at  first  he 


140  ELEMENTARY    MORAL    LESSONS. 

w as  persuaded  to  attend  an  Evening  Book  Auction. 
There  he  found  a  crowd  of  young  men — and  the  auction- 
eer was  vociferous  in  praise  of  liis  ik  excellent  books  with 
splendid  bindings,  selling  for  less  than  the  cost  of  print- 
ing." One  book  was  offered  which  the  bov  had  a  great 
desire  to  read — but  he  had  no  money  to  pay  for  it. 
More  of  the  same  books  were  to  be  sold  on  the  next  eve- 
ning. The  thought  passed  through  his  mind — "Cant  1 
borrow  money  enough  to  pay  for  this  book,  and  after  1 
have  read  it,  sell  it  again,  and  pay  what  I  have  borrowed?" 
This  thought  appeared  plausible  and  harmless — but  it  was 
the  cause  of  his  ruin.  He  borrowed  the  money  from  his 
masters  drawer,  without  asking  for  it — and  having  once 
violated  his  conscience,  he  could  no  longer  resist  the  temp- 
tation to  take  money,  again  and  again,  in  the  some  way. 
— and  having  money  in  his  possession,  the  desire  to  spend 
it  all  in  sinful  gratifications,  was  too  strong  to  be  resisted, 
and  he  was  easily  led  (by  his  jovial  "friends"  which  his 
money  procured,)  to  the  Theatre,  that  broad  road  to  ruin, 
that  slaughter-house  of  the  morals  of  many  of  our  youth! 

His  parents  were  informed  of  his  conduct.  It  almost 
broke  their  hearts.  He  promised  them  that  he  would 
reform — but  he  felt  degraded,  his  conscience  tormented 
him,  and  it  was  not  long  before  he  absconded!  After 
which,  search  being  made,  goods  to  the  amount  of  several 
hundred  dollars  were  found  in  his  chamber,  which  he  had 
purchased  with  money  stolen  from  his  master. 

Thus  were  the  fair  prospects  of  a  once  amiable  youth 
destroyed — his  character  gone — his  father's  house  forsa- 
ken— and  he  wandering  like  a  vagabond,  exposed  to  the 
destructive  allurements  of  vice,  without  a  good  conscience 
to  refrain  him,  or  a  friend  to  advise  him. 

This  is  but  one  instance  among  many  that  occur  yearly 
in  Boston,  of  young  men  from  the  country  who  are  ruined 


HONESTY INTEGRITY.  141 

by  the  many  temptations  which  beset  them  here.  These 
temptations  are  so  various  in  their  form,  that  it  is  difficult 
to  describe  them ;  but  they  meet  an  unsuspecting  youth 
almost  every  hour — and  in  order  to  resist  them  and  walk 
in  the  path  of  rectitude,  he  should  firmly  resolve  to  keep 
"a  conscience  void  of  offence  towards  God  and  man." 


QUESTIONS  FOR  ILLUSTRATION. 

1.  Do  persons  usually  first  steal  very  trifling,  or  very 
valuable  articles? 

'2.  How  did  the  boy  in  the  preceding  narrative,  com- 
mence his  course  of  crime? 

3.  If,  in  passing  a  man's  orchard,  you  should  see  plenty 
of  fruit  that  was  rotting  upon  the  trees  and  ground,  would 
it  be  right  to  take  some  of  it  to  eat  without  asking  the 
owner  h 

4.  But  if  you  were  some  acquainted  with  the  owner,  and 
felt  sure  he  would  give  his  consent,  if  you  were  to  ask 
him.  would  it  be  right  to  take  some  without  asking  for  it? 

5.  Children  in  passing  along  the  road  or  street,  some- 
times reach  over  or  through  the  fence  and  gather  fruit. 
Is  this  right? 

6.  Somtimes  the  limbs  of  fruit  trees  hang  over  the 
street,  and  boys  say  "this  fruit  will  fall  into  the  road 
or  street  when  it  is  ripe,  we  may  as  well  take  it  before  it 
tails."     Is  this  right? 


NARRATIVE. 

Honesty  in   Little   Things.  —  "Matilda,"  said  little 


14*2  ELEMENTARY    MORAL    LESSONS. 

Thomas,  "Do  you  know  that  one  of  the  boughs  of  Mr. 
C.'s  apple  tree  hangs  over  our  garden  wall,  and  when  the 
fruit  gets  ripe,  and  the  high  winds  blow,  we  shall  have 
some  of  the  apples."  "Indeed  you  will  not"  replied  his 
sister,  "for  they  are  not  ours,  and  you  must  be  honest,  even 
in  little  things.''' 

"Oh  then,"  said  Thomas,  his  eyes  brightening  while  he 
expressed  his  thoughts,  "we  will  throw  them  over  the 
wall  again,  and  he  will  be  sure  to  find  them."  Admira- 
ble intention!  all  through  life  may  principles  of  true  rec- 
titude direct  the  little  boy.  My  dear  readers,  let  me  im- 
press upon  your  minds  the  absolute  need  of  the  most 
scnqntlous  honesty  on  all  occasions.  You  cannot  tell  how 
pilfering  an  apple,  or  stealing  a  pear,  or  a  book,  may 
stamp  your  character  for  life.  Should  your  friends  ever 
see  any  thing  like  duplicity  in  your  conduct,  they  could 
not  help  being  suspicious,  which  would  make  you  feel 
very  uncomfortable;  therefore,  say  indignantly  to  the 
tempter,  when  he  would  incline  you  to  that  which  is 
wrong;  "how  can  I  do  this  great  wickedness  and  sin 
against  God?"  and  let  the  holy  Psalmist's  prayer  be  con- 
tinually your  prayer,  both  morning  and  evening  too;  "let 
integrity  and  uprightness  preserve  me:"  and  ever  re- 
member the  two  following  lines,  which,  though  old,  are 
valuable : 

;'  It  is  a  sin  to  steal  a  pin, 

And  'tis  much  more  a  orreater  thingf." 


8.  If  apples  are  very  plenty  and  very  cheap,  and  wag 
on  loads  are  standing  in  the  street  for  sale,  how  many  ap. 
pies  may  a  boy  take  from  a  wagon  without  leave,  and  not 
steal? 

8.   In  passing  around  among  mechanics,  boys  sometimes 


HONESTY INTEGRITY.  143 

gather  up  a  few  nails.     How  many  small  /calls  might  a 
hoy,  in  this  way,  put  in  his  pocket  without  stealing? 

9.  Along  the  streets  and  wharves,  casks  of  sugar  are 
often  broken  open  by  accident  or  otherwise,  and  boys 
"just  taste'"'  of  a  little  of  the  sugar.  How  many  times 
might  a  boy  "just  taste,"  or  how  much  sugar  might  he 
(jat.  without  making  a  case  of  stealing? 

10.  If  you  wanted  some  fruit  or  some  sugar  to  eat  and 
did  not  think  it  right  to  steal  yourself  how  would  it  do 
for  you  to  let  some  other  boys  steal  the  fruit,  and  then 
you  eat  it  with  them? 

11.  If  you  know  that  the  fruit,  or  the,  food,  or  the 
presents  of  any  kind  placed  before  you  have  been  stolen. 
what  ought  you  to  do? 

1*2.  Persons  sometimes  secretly  borrow  the  money  or 
articles  intrusted  to  their  care,  thinking  they  will  make  all 
right  at  some  convenient  time.     What  is  wrong  in  this? 


NARRATIVE. 

Inordinate  love  of  Dress. — 1  once  knew  a  youth,  the 
child  of  an  officer  in  the  navy,  who  had  served  his  coun- 
try with  distinction,  but  whose  premature  death  rendered 
his  widow  thankful  to  receive  an  official  appointment  for 
her  delicate  boy  in  a  Government  office.  His  income 
from  the  office  was  given  faithfully  to  his  mother :  and  it 
was  a  pleasure  and  a  pride  to  him  to  gladden  her  heart 
by  the  thought  that  he  was  helping  her.  She  had  other 
children,  but  they  were  younger  than  he.  and  were  two 
little  girls,  just  rising  one  above  another  from  the  cradle 
to  womanhood.     Her  scanty  pension  and  his  salary  made 


144  ELEMENTARY    MORAL    LESSONS. 

every  one  happy.  But  over  this  youth  came  a  love  of 
dress.  He  had  not  strength  of  mind  to  see  how  much 
more  truly  beautiful  a  pure  mind  is,  than  a  finely-deco- 
rated exterior.  He  took  pleasure  in  helping  his  mother 
and  sisters,  but  did  not  take  pleasure  in  thinking  that  to 
do  this  kindness  to  them,  he  must  be  contented  for  a  time, 
to  dress  a  little  worse  than  his  fellow  clerks ;  his  clothes 
might  appear  a  little  worn,  but  they  were  like  the  spot 
on  the  dress  of  a  soldier,  arising  from  the  discharge  of 
duty ;  they  were  no  marks  of  undue  carelessness :  neces- 
sity had  wrought  them;  and  while  they  indicated  neces- 
sity they  marked  also  the  path  of  honor;  and  without  such 
spots  duty  must  have  been  neglected.  But  this  youth 
did  not  think  of  such  considerations  as  these.  He  felt 
ashamed  of  his  threadbare,  but  clean  coat.  The  smart, 
new  sinning  dress  of  other  clerks,  mortified  him.  They 
had  no  mother  to  assist,  nor  sisters  dependent  upon  them ; 
and  probably  some  among  them  would  have  gladly  come 
in  a  shabby  coat,  rather  than  lessen  the  necessaries  of 

dear  relatives  at  home.     Robert  truly  loved  his 

mother  and  sisters,  and  did  not  wish  to  lessen  their  in- 
come, but  he  wanted  to  appear  finer.  In  an  evil  hour  he 
ordered  a  suit  of  clothes  from  a  fashionable  tailor.  His 
situation  and  connections  procured  him  a  short  credit. — 

But  tradesmen  must  be  paid,  and  Robert was  again 

and  again  importuned  to  defray  his  debt.  To  relieve 
himself  of  his  creditor,  he  stole  a  letter  containing  a  £10 
note.  His  tailor  was  paid,  but  the  injured  party  knew 
the  number  of  the  note.  It  •was  traced  to  the  tailor,  by 
him  to  Robert,,  with  the  means  and  opportunity  of  steal- 
ing it,  and  in  a  few  clays  the  child  (for  lie  was  sixteen) 
was  transported.  Before  he  went  away,  it  was  very  af- 
fecting to  see  his  truly  respectable  mother  come  to  visit 
him.      "Oh,  Robert!    how  could  you   do  this/"  was  her 


J  [ON  EST Y IH TEGRITY.  145 

plaintive  expostulation.     The  distress  she  suffered,  and 

the  straitened  way  in  which  she  and  his  sisters  lived 
tor  many  months,  to  pay  the  expenses  of  his  defence. 
were  never  known  to  him.  His  mother  entertained  the 
liveliest  hopes  that  he  might  escape  by  some  legal  defect; 
but  all  her  hopes  were  blighted,  and  she  lost  her  son  prob- 
ably forever.  His  birth-day  passed  in  Newgate.  On 
this  occasion  a  Bible  was  sent  him,  and  markers  wrought 
in  beads  by  his  sisters.  One  was,  "Robert,  we  still  re- 
member you:"  another,  by  his  youngest  sister,  was,  "Still 
we  love  yon."'  It  was  quite  pitiable  to  see  how  the  youth's 
tears  flowed  when  lie  read  these  signs  of  love  and  sorrow 
in  the  home  he  had  rendered  so  desolate.  He  was  pro- 
foundly humbled  and  sincerely  penitent;  but  his  offence 
could  not  be  pardoned.  Public  good  demanded  its  en- 
forcement; and  his  was  another  example  of  the  intense 
foil  v  of  a  love  of.  dress. 


VARIED  APPLICATION  OF  EIGHT  KRINCIPLE^v 


OUESriONS    FOR    SPECIAL  AND  GENERAL  REVIEW. 

1.  If  you  were  to  find  money  in  the  street  or  elsewhere, 
what  ought  you  to  do  with  it? 

:2.  If  you  were  to  find  lost  articles  of  any  kind,  what 
ought  you  to  do?  Would  it  be  right  to  keep  them  and 
say  nothing? 

3b  Not  long  since  a  little  girl  received  a  ten  dollar  gold 

piece  at  the  Post  Office  in  Sandusky,  in  the  evening,  by 

mistake,  for  a  cent.     After  going  home  the  mistake  was 

seen.     Was  this  money  hers?     How  mvxh  of  it  belonged 

17 


146  ELEMENTARY    MORAL    LESSONS. 

to  her?  To  whom  did  the  rest  belong?  She  returned 
the  gold  piece  the  next  morning,  the  Post  Master  not 
having  yet  discovered  the  error.     Would  you  have  done 

so? 

4.  A  poor  man  once  purchased  a  loaf  of  bread  of  a  ba- 
ker for  the  usual  price  of  a  loaf.  When,  away  from  the 
shop,  he  began  to  break  and  eat  it  with  his  son,  he  found 
several  dollars  in  value  of  gold  coin  in  the  middle  of  it. 
Was  this  money  his?  Did  he  buy  it?  What  would  be 
right  to  do  with  the  money  in  such  a  case? 

5.  At  the  market,  we  sometimes  find  very  nice  berries, 
or  other  fruits,  placed  carefully  on  the  top  of  the  meas- 
ure, while,  in  the  middle,  the  fruit  is  nearly  worthless. 
How  ought  this  to  be? 

6.  Children  sometimes  break  crockery  or  other  furni- 
ture, and  place  it  carefully  away  without  saying  anything 
to  any  one.  What  ought  you  to  do  if  you  injure  any  ar- 
ticle of  furniture? 

7.  Boys  sometimes  ride  half  a  mile  on  the  back  steps 
of  an  omnibus  without  being  seen.  What  is  there  wrong 
in  this? 

8.  Suppose  you  should  borrow  a  boy's  knife  and  should 
lose  it,  and  should  pay  him  twenty-five  cents  to  make  his 
loss  good.  Sometime  afterwards,  the  boy  finds  his  knife 
himself,  in  as  good  order  as  when  he  lent  it  to  you. — 
What  ought  to  be  done  in  such  a  case? 

i).  Suppose  the  fee  for  admittance  to  a  show  or  con- 
cert, to  be  ten  cents,  and  that,  by  standing  near  the  door, 
you  can  easily  pass  in  without  being  noticed  and  without 
paying  anything.      Would  this  be  right? 


ASSOCIATES.  147 

10.  It"  a  boy  should  offer  to  sell  you  a  pencil  case,  he 
supposing  it  to  be  brass,  for  twenty-five  cents,  and  you 
at  once,  knew  it  was  gold  and  worth  one  dollar  and  a  half 
or  two  dollars,  would  it  be  right  to  take  it  for  twenty-five 
cents,  without  informing  the  boy  of  its  real  value? 

11.  If  you  should  buy  a  pound  of  candy  at  the  shop, 
and  pay  for  it.  and  should,  when  you  reached  home, 
find  there  were  two  pounds  instead  of  one,  what  ought 
you  to  do? 


LESSON  XX. 


A  PEKSON  IS  KNOWN  BY  THE  COMPANY  HE  KEEPS. 


NARRATIVE. 

The  Max  that  was  Haunted  by  his  Shadow. — The 
chief  of  police  in  New  York  city,  (Mr.  Mat-sell,)  has 
adopted  a  new  and  singular  plan,  both  as  a  preventive  and 
a  remedy  for  crime.  He  has  in  his  employ  a  number  of 
trust-worthy  men,  who  make  themselves  acquainted  with 
every  rogue  in  the  country.  Their  province  is  to  watch 
the  arrival  of  all  steamboats,  railroad  cars,  and  other 
public  conveyances,  and  follow  every  known  rogue  and 
suspicious  character,  like  his  very  shadow,  wherever  he 
goes.  Not  a  moment,  night  or  day,  while  in  that  city, 
can  a  person  escape  from  these  shadows  (policemen)  when 
once  they  are  attached. 

A  recent  case  of  actual  occurrence  will  illustrate  this 


|.4*S  ELEMENTARY    MORAL    LESSONS. 

system.  A  well-known  burglar,  who  had  reformed, -but 
whose  reformation  had  not  become  public,  arrived  in  New 
York  from  a  neighboring  city,  in  company  with  an  intel- 
ligent lawyer,  as  his  counsel,  for  the  settlement  of  some 
old  affairs.  As  a  man  is  known  by  the  company  he  keeps, 
the  lawyer  was  immediately  suspected  and.  shadowed!— 
He  went  into  a  barber's  shop  to  be  shaved,  and  the  shad- 
ow (policeman)  set  down  by  his  side.  He  went  to  see  a 
friend,  the  shadow  waited  outside.  Next,  lie  went  to  a 
restaurant  for  dinner,  the  shadow  was  at  the  table  oppo- 
site. Now  lie  walked  about  town,  the  shadow  was  ever 
behind  him.  He  went  to  the  theatre,  the  shadow  was  in 
the  next  seat.  He  stepped  into  a  reading-room  to  read 
the  news,  and  the  shadow  was  reading  at  his  elbow.  He 
registered  his  name  at  the  hotel — the  shadow  was  looking 
over  Iris  shoulder.  He  went  to  bed — the  shadow  inquir- 
ed the  number  of  his  room.  In  this  way.  says  the  cor- 
respondent of  the  Philadelphia  Inquirer,  he  was  dogged 
for  three  days,  when  he  called  upon  the  chief  of  police  in 
reference  to  the  business  of  his  client,  when  lo!  and  be- 
hold, the  shadow  was  there  too !  Of  course,  as  soon  as 
he  made  himself  known  as  an  attorney  from  a  neighbor- 
ing city,  the  shadow  was  withdrawn.  And  most  fortu- 
nate was  he  in  going  to  the  office  as  he  did,  for  Mr.  Mat- 
sell  had  already  issued  orders  for  his  arrest  on  suspicion. 
Those  who  believe  the  Bible,  know  that  a  much  closer 
inspection  than  this  is  had  over  every  human  being,  eve- 
ry moment,  and  in  every  place,  and  without  the  least  in- 
termission. Why  are  we  so  apt  to  forget  it  and  to  think 
that  we  are  alone? 


QUESTIONS  FOR  ILLUSTRATION. 

1.   If  a  well  appearing  person  should  come  to  the  town 


ASSOCIATE!-.  149 

or  city  iii  which  you  reside,  in  company  with  a~well-known 
thief  would  yon  suspect  the  stranger  was  a  rogue  ? 

%  Why  was  the  lawyer,  in  the  preceding  narrative, 
suspected  of  being  a  thief? 

3.  Does  it  make  any  difference  to  you  whom  you 
choose  for  your  companions,  if  you  try  to  do  right  your- 
self?    What  difference? 

4  If  one  bad  boy  were  to  associate  with  two  good  ones, 
would  the  bad  boy  be  likely  to  become  good,  or  the  good 
boys  bad? 

5,  Do  persons  usually  choose  for  their  companions 
those  that  are  very  much  like  themselves,  or  those  that 
are  very  much  unlike  themselves'? 

0.  If  you  were  to  see  five  boys  very  intimate  together, 
and  all  alike  well-dressed  and  wrell  appearing,  and  you 
should  know,  positively,  that  two  of  them  would  swear, 
or  lie,  or  steal,  what  would  you  infer  respecting  the  oth- 
er three? 

7.  If  you  find  that  any  of  your  companions  are  just 
beginning  to  use  profane  or  obscene  language,  what  would 
you  think  it  your  duty,  at  once,  to  do? 

8.  But  if  they  grow  ivorse  instead  of  better,  after  you 
have  spoken  to  them  of  their  wrong  acts,  what  ought  you 
to  do? 

9.  If  you  were  with  ten  boys  who  were  strongly  tempt- 
ed to  steal  fruit,  but  had  not,  either  of  them,  the  moral 
courage  to  refuse,  and  say  that  it  was  wrong,  would  it  be 
easy  for  you  to  stand  alone  and  oppose  all  the  rest? 

10.  Would  it  not  be  easier  for  you  to  exercise  courage 


150  ELEMENTARY    MORAL    LESSONS. 

to  do  right,  if  eight  of  the  boys  were  anxious  to  do  right 
too? 

11.  If  all  of  your  associates  should  unite  in  encourag- 
iug  you  in  everything  that  is  right  and  honorable,  what 
effect  would  this  have  upon  you? 


NARRATIVE. 

Bad  Counsels. — At  an  early  age  I  had  to  rue  the  bad 
counsel  and  evil  influence  of  intermeddlers,  as  you  shall 
hear.  When  a  schoolboy,  my  master  on  one  occasion, 
treated  me  with  unmerited  severity,  and  my  youthful 
blood  boiled  in  my  veins  at  what  appeared  to  me  to  be 
his  injustice  and  cruelty;  but,  exasperated  as  I  was,  time 
would,  no  doubt,  have  soothed,  if  not  healed  my  wounded 
spirit,  had  it  not  been  for  the  intermeddlers  around  mo. 
These  so  highly  colored  the  conduct  of  my  master,  and 
so  highly  complimented  me  for  my  noble,  independent 
spirit,  that  I  was  compelled  to  keep  up  my  character  with 
them,  by  adopting  the  worst  course  I  could  take — that  of 
running  away  from  school.  The  bitter  annoyances  to 
which  this  act  of  rebellion  subjected  me,  are  even  now 
fresh  in  my  memory. 


12.  How  long  will  the  effects  of  early,  bad  associates, 
be  likely  to  last? 

Yd.  Which  would  be  better,  to  submit  to  reproof  that 
might  seem  a  little  too  severe,  or  lose,  for  life,  the  advan- 
tages of  a  good  education? 

14.  Have  you  ever  known  persons  who  seemed  very 
amiable  and  virtuous,  to  be  ruined  by  bad  associates? 


ASSOCIATES.  151 


NARRATIVE. 


The  downward  Road  —  a  true  Narrative. — There 
was  a  young  man  with  whom  I  was  well  acquainted,  the 
youngest  of  five  brothers.  His  father  had  fallen  from  a 
high  standing  in  society,  and  had  become  a  degraded 
creature  through  intemperance.  He  had  abused  his  wife 
and  children,  who  were  then  promising  and  amiable,  until 
worn  out  with  his  treatment,  his  wife  sought  an  asylum 
from  his  cruelties  in  the  home  of  a  kind-hearted  brother. 
Her  sons  were  all  provided  with  respectable  homes  to 
acquire  various  mechanic  arts,  except  the  youngest,  who 
remained  with  his  mother  to  comfort  her  lonely  and  des- 
olate heart,  and  to  enjoy  the  opportunity  of  schooling. 
He  was  very  much  beloved  in  school  for  his  kind  and 
gentle  behaviour  and  obliging  disposition. 

Years  passed  away.  His  brothers,  one  after  another 
had  all  fallen  into  the  habits  of  their  shameless  and  un- 
happy father,  and  the  mother's  heart  was  almost  crushed 
by  these  repeated  and  heavy  trials.  Still  she  looked  to 
her  youngest  as  the  prop  upon  which  her  poor  heart, 
throbbing  with  painful  emotions,  might  lean,  and  find 
peace  and  comfort  once  more. 

He  went  into  a  store  as  a  clerk.  He  was  faithful,  hon- 
est and  industrious,  and  enjoyed  the  confidence  of  his  em- 
ployer, and  the  respect  and  good  wishes  of  all  his  friends 
for  many  years.  It  was  often  said  of  him,  to  the  grati- 
fication of  those  who  were  watching  his  progress,  that 
t;  he  was  thought  to  be  one  of  the  best  and  most  faithful 
clerks  in  the  city  where  he  lived." 

But  he  fell  into  the  company  of  young  men  who  drink 
-moderately"  as  people  say,  and  here  he  acquired  that 
love  of  strong  drink  which  proved  at  last  his  ruin.  It 
was  long  concealed  from  all  his  friends,  except  those  who 


152  ELEMENTARY    MORAL    LESSONS. 

shared  his  infamy,  and  it  came  at  last  upon  them  like  the 
thunderbolt.  He  was  discharged  by  his  employer,  and 
came  home,  not  to  be  a  stay  and  support  to  his  broken- 
hearted mother,  but  to  inflict  a  deeper  wound  upon  her 
already  bleeding  heart.  He.  who  might  have  been  a  man 
of  unbounded  influence,  and  of  great  moral  worth,  was. 
sunk  so  low  that  he  was  shunned  by  all  who  valued  their 
reputation,  and  was  soon  known  to  labor  simply  for  what 
he  could  drink. 

After  a  few  years,  one  of  his  old  friends  was  established 
in  the  mercantile  business  in  Oswego,  now  a  flourishing 
city  on  Lake  Ontario.  One  pleasant  afternoon,  in  spring, 
when  the  business  of  the  day  was  nearly  over,  there  was 
an  unusual  noise  in  the  street.  He  stepped  to  the  door 
to  ascertain  the  cause,  and  saw  a  troop  of  boys  following, 
teasing  and  diverting  themselves  with  a  man  so  intoxica- 
ted, that  he  soon  fell  down,  and  they  were  abusing  him  at 
such  a  rate  that  he  went  out  and  dispersed  the  boys,  aiuL 
to  his  great  astonishment,  found  that  the  man  was  indeed 
no  other  than  he  whom  he  had  known  in  earlier  days  as 
the  reputable  and  promising  clerk !  He  treated  him  with 
great  kindness,  but  nothing  had  any  effect  to  reclaim  him. 
Those  who  never  taste  intoxicating  drinks  never  become 
drunkards.     All  others  ma  v. 


VARIED  APPLICATION  OF  RIGHT  PRINCIPLES. 


QUESTIONS  FOR  SPECIAL    AND   GENERAL  REVIEW. 

1.  May  we  select  our  intimate  companions,  or  must  we 
always  have  just  such  as  happen  to  be  with  us? 

'<?.   What,  advantages  may  we  expect  to  gain  by  asso- 


SELF-DENIAL.  153 

dating  with  those  who  are  better  scholars  than  ourselves1? 

8.  What  advantages  may  we  expect  to  gain  by  asso- 
ciating with  those  who  have  more  moral  courage  than  our- 
selves?—  with  those  who  are  more  attentive  to  neatness 
than  we  are:  —  with  those  who  are  more  inditstriotis  and 
persevering? 

4.  If  you  were  very  anxious  to  learn  music,  how  would 
you  be  benefitted  by  having  for  your  intimate  associates 
those  who  were  highly  accomplished  in  music? 

•").  If  you  could  never  spend  an  hour  with  those  who 
were  more  accomplished  in  their  manners,  than  yourself, 
would  it  be  just  as  easy  for  you  to  always  practice  habits 
of  politeness  and  refinement? 

0.  Some  persons  adopt,  for  their  maxim,  the  follow- 
ing—  "Choose  cmoD  companions  or  choose  none  at  all." 
fs  rlil-  ;i  safe  and  prudent  maxim  for  all? 


LESSON  XXI 


LEARN  TO  DENY  YOUBSELF. 


NARRATIVE. 


Disinterested  Benevolence. — In  the  hard  frost  of  the 
year  1740.  the  benevolent  Duke  of  Montague  went  out 
one  morning  in  disguise,  as  was  his  favorite  practice,  in 
order  to  distribute  his  bounty  to  his  suffering  fellow  crea- 


154  ELEMENTARY    MORAL    LESSONS. 

iures.     He  descended  into  one  of  those   subterraneous 

dwellings  of  which  there  arc  many  in  London,  and  ac- 
costing an  old  woman,  enquired, "  How  she  lived  in  these 
hard  times,  and  if  she  wanted  charity.''  "No,"  she  re- 
plied, "she  thanked  God  she  was  not  in  want;  but  if  be 
had  anything  to  bestow,  there  was  a  poor  creature  in  the 
next  room  almost  starving."'  The  duke  visited  this  poor 
object,  made  her  a  donation,  and  then  inquired  of  the  old 
woman,  "If  any  more  of  her  neighbors  were  in  want1?" 
She  said,  "Her  left  hand  neighbor  was  very  poor,  and 
very  honest.'*  "Surely,"  replied  the  duke,  "you  are  very 
generous,  and  disinterested ;  pray,  if  it  is  no  offence,  let 
me  know  your  own  circumstances.*'  "I  owe  nothing.'* 
said  the  good  woman,  "and  am  worth  thirty  shillings." 
"Well,  I  suppose  a  little  addition  would  be  acceptable." 
"Yes,  certainly,  but  I  think  it  wrong  to  take  what  others 
want  so  much  more  than  I  do."  The  duke,  upon  this, 
took  out  five  guineas,  and  desiring  her  acceptance  of  them, 
left  the  poor  woman  quite  overcome  by  this  mark  of  his 
generosity,  and  expressing,  in  the  warmest  language,  her 
gratitude,  for  his  kindness. 


QUESTIONS  FOR  ILLUSTRATION. 

1.  Suppose  that  a  boy,  poor  and  very  hungry,  should 
have  some  nice  fruit  given  to  him,  and  he  should  refuse 
to  eat  it  himself  because  he  wanted  to  give  it  to  some  one 
that  he  loved,  what  virtue  would  he  practice? 

2.  If  a  girl,  very  anxious  to  attend  a  lecture  or  concert, 
should  voluntarily  stay  at  home  for  the  sake  of  allowing 
her  sister  or  mother  to  go.  what  virtue  would  she  prac- 
tice? 


SELF-DENIAL.  155 

3.  Do  you  think  it  easy  for  any  one  to  practice  self- 
denial? 

4.  In  the  narrative,  just  given,  what  do  yon  discover 
to  approve  in  the  conduct  of  the  poor  woman,  who  direc- 
ted the  duke  to  her  still  poorer  neighbors'? 

.').  This  poor  woman  thought  it  wrong  to  accept  aid. 
when  others  around  her  were  more  needy  than  herself: 
do  you  agree  with  her.  that  it  would  have  been  wrong- 
under  the  circumstances? 

(>.  If  she  had  been  so  much  occupied  with  her  own 
concerns,  that  she  had  known  nothing  of  the  distress  of 
her  neighbors,  would  it  have  been  right  to  have  accepted 
aid  from  the  duke? 

7.  But  is  it  often,  if  ever,  right  for  us  to  be  so  much 
occupied  with  our  own  interests  and  trials,  that  we  may 
not  know  anything  of  the  sufferings  around  us? 

5.  If  it  was  wrong  m  this  poor  woman  to  receive  a 
little  aid  from  the  duke,  when  she  well  knew  that  others 
around  her  were  much  more  needy  than  herself,  what 
would  you  say  of  the  conduct  of  those  who  have  an  abun- 
dance of  enjoyments,  and  yet  think  only  of  securing  more 
for  themselves,  and  none  for  others  that  are  very  much  in 
need? 

{>.  Who  are  usually  the  more  ready  to  deny  them- 
selves, those  that  possess  many,  or  those  that  possess  very 
few  enjoyments? 

NARRATIVE. 

The  Golden  Rule. — "  Whatsoever  ye  would  that  men 
should  do  unto  you.  do  ye  even  so   to    them." — A   most 


156  ELEMENTARY    MORAL    LESSONS. 

touching  illustration  of  this  Scripture  precept,  was  related 
to  us  a  few  days  since.  A  poor  widow,  with  a  family  of 
children  to  support,  earned  a  scanty  living  by  selling, 
near  one  of  our  market  houses,  on  a  table,  various  little 
fancy  articles.  Some  friends  advised  her  to  rent  a  small 
store  that  was  vacant,  close  by,  and  open  in  that  with  a 
larger  assortment.  After  hesitating  long,  with  much 
tear  and  trembling,  she  at  last  rented  the  store,  and  by 
the  aid  of  a  few  kind  friends,  got  a  neat  little  stock  of 
goods.  Every  market  day  she  set  out  her  table  as  be- 
fore, and  with  what  she  sold,  both  in  this  way  and  in  her 
shop,  she  soon  began  to  do  very  well,  and  to  be" tolerably 
easy  in  mind.  Just  at  this  period  in  her  affairs,  another 
poor  widow  woman,  struggling  for  a  support  for  her 
children,  set  out  a  table  on  the  opposite  come]',  to  get  the 
custom  of  the  market  people.  As  soon  as  the  widow  wh<  > 
had  the  store  as  well  as  the  table  saw  this,  she  immedi- 
ately took  in  her  table,  and  to  a  friend  who  asked  her  the 
reason,  said.  "I  am  doing  very  well  with  my  store,  and 
she  has  but  a  table;  I  will  not  divide  the  custom,  for  I 
know  how  hard  it  is  to  support  a  family  of  children  with 
only  the  sales  of  a  table." 

JO.  What  is  there  to  approve  in  the  conduct ot*the> 
widow  who  had  the  store  and  the  market  table-1? 

11.  Are  there  opportunities  for  every  one  to  deny 
themselves  some  enjoyments  for  the  sake  of  making  oth- 
ers happy,  if  they  please  to  do  so? 

12.  If  persons  are  not  willing  to  deny  themselves  in 
"  little  things.''  what  would  you  expect  of  them  in  great- 
er things? 

13.  At  meals,  it  is  not  always  convenient  i'^v  all  tin- 


SELF-DENIAL.  157 

members  of  the  family  to  have  a  seat  at  the  first  table. 
What  is  to  be  done  when  this  happens '? 

14.  It  is  not  always  convenient  for  all  of  the  persons 
in  the  family  to  attend  a  lecture  or  concert  on  the  same 
evening.     What  is  to  be  done  in  such  a  case? 

15.  All  the  persons  in  a  carriage  can  not  always  have 
an  equally  good  seat.     Who  may  choose  the  best? 

16.  It  is  sometimes  necessary  for  some  one  to  wait  on 
a  sick  mother,  or  brother,  or  sister.  Whose  duty  is  it 
to  do  this? 

17.  All  of  the  children  of  a  family  cannot  always  at- 
tend school  regularly,  when  each  may  feel  very  anxious 
to  do  so.  If  this  is  left  for  the  children  themselves  to 
arrange,  how  shall  it  be  decided  who  shall  attend? 


NARRATIVE. 


The  School-Ticket. — Sometimes  kindness  is  shown  by 
giving  up  to  others  what  seems  to  be  our  right,  as  well 
as  by  giving  away  what  they  want  more  than  we  do. — 
There  was  once  a  large  school  for  young  ladies  in  St.  Pe- 
tersburg, the  capital  of  Russia,  where  many  were  sent 
upon  paying  a  certain  sum  for  their  board;  others  were 
supported  by  the  royal  family,  without  any  charge  to 
their  own  friends.  These  were  admitted  by  tickets,  one 
of  which  was  received  by  the  daughter  of  an  officer,  who 
was  about  ten  years  old.  She  had  a  sister  of  nearly  the 
same  age,  and  they  wept  together  at  the  prospect  of  a 
separation,  for  they  knew  that  their  parents  were  unable 
to  pay  for  either  of  them,  as  they  belonged  to  a  very 
large  family.  But  a  young  lady,  not  much  older  than 
18 


158  ELEMENTARY    MORAL    LESSON*. 

themselves,  to  whom  the  next  ticket  was  sent,  being  aware 
of  their  anxiety,  begged  to  give  up  her  own  privileges  in 
their  favor,  saying  that  she  knew  her  father  was  both  able 
and  willing  to  provide  for  her  expenses.  No  objection 
was  made  to  this  arrangement,  but  the  empress  of  Russia 
herself  insisted  upon  paying  for  this  generous  child. 


18.  Which  would  give  you  the  greater  pleasure,  to  at- 
tend a  pleasant  school  for  a  term,  or  stay  at  home  for  the 
sake  of  allowing  a  brother  or  sister  to  attend? 

19.  Some  persons  are  willing  to  suffer  pain  and  sor- 
row, if  they  may,  thereby,  prevent  others  from  suffering 
the  same.     Have  you  ever  known  any  such  persons  ? 


NARRATIVE. 

Captain,  afterwards  Sir  David  Baird,  having  been  ta- 
ken prisoner  by  Hyder  Ally,  an  East-Indian  chief,  was 
with  other  British  officers,  thrown  into  prison.  The 
wrounds  which  he  had  received  were  not  merely  unhealed, 
but  in  a  state  which  threatened  mortification,  and  his 
general  health  was  rapidly  declining.  When  he  and  his 
companions  had  languished  some  time  in  confinement, 
one  of  Ally's  officers  appeared,  bearing  with  him  fetters 
weighing  nine  pounds  each,  which  were  intended  for  the 
unhappy  prisoners.  To  resist  was  useless:  they  there- 
fore submitted.  On  the  officer  coming  to  the  Captain, 
one  of  his  companions  sprang  forward,  and  urged  the 
cruelty  of  fettering  limbs  still  festering  with  wounds,  from 
one  of  which  a  ball  had  recently  been  extracted,  and  sta- 
ted that  death  was  likely  to  follow  such  treatment.     The 


SELF-DENIAL.  159 

reply  was.  "that  as  many  fetters  had  been  sent  as  there 
were  prisoners,  and  that  they  must  all  be  put  on  •"  then 
said  the  noble  advocate  of  his  wounded  friend,  "put  a 
double  pair  on  me,  so  that  Captain  Baird  may  be  spared 
wearing  them.'*  This  moved  the  officer,  a  delay  arose, 
the  irons  w^ere  dispensed  with,  and  the  captive  in  the  dun- 
geon of  Seringapatam  was  spared  to  become  its  conquer- 
or, and.  for  a  time,  its  master. 


YAK  I EP    APPLICATION   OF    EIGHT   PRINCIPLES. 


QUESTIONS  FOK   SPECIAL  AND  GENERAL  REVIEW. 

1.  If  you  were  traveling  with  two  companions  over 
the  plains  to  California,  where  you  could  not  get  food, 
and  you  had  only^ve  biscuits  to  live  on  for  eight  days, 
while  your  companions  had  nothing  to  eat,  what  do  you 
think  you  would  do? 

2.  If,  in  such  a  journey,  you  had  a  little  medicine  with 
you,  and  your  companions  had  none,  and  one  of  them 
should  be  taken  sick  and  need  as  much  medicine  as  you 
had  to  cure  him,  and,  knowing  that  you  could  not  get  any 
more  if  you  were  to  be  taken  sick  yourself,  what  do  you 
think  you  would  do? 

3.  If  we  know  that  persons  around  us  are  suffering 
from  poverty  or  sickness,  what  will  be  our  duty  ? 

4.  If  we  know  that  others  around  us  are  suffering,  or 
will  suffer,  from  ignorance  and  neglect,  what  will  be  our 
duty? 

5.  When  you  see  a- person  always  ready  to  deny  him- 


160  ELEMENTARY    MORAL    LESSONS. 

self,  for  the  purpose  of  making  others  happy,  ivhat  other 
virtues,  would  you  feel  certain  that  such  a  person  pos- 
sessed1? 

6.  Is  it  more,  or  less  difficult  to  practice  self-denial  after 
we  have  practiced  it  many  times? 

7.  Which  would  you  think  would  make  the  best  chil- 
dren, and  the  noblest  men  and  women,  those  who  have 
very  often  practiced  self-denial,  or  those  who  have  never 
practiced  it  at  all? 


LESSON  XXII 


LIVE  USEFULLY. 


NARRATIVE. 


The  poor  Tyrolese  Boy. — A  soldier's  widow  lived  in 
a  little  hut  near  a  mountain  village.  Her  only  child  was 
a  poor  cripple.  Hans  was  a  kind-hearted  boy.  He  loved 
his  mother  and  would  gladly  have  helped  her  bear  the 
burdens  of  poverty,  but  that  feebleness  forbade  it.  He 
could  not  even  join  in  the  rude  sports  of  the  young  moun- 
taineers. At  the  age  of  fifteen  years,  he  felt  keenly  the 
fact  that  he  was  useless  to  his  mother  and  to  the  world. 

It  was  at  this  period  that  Napoleon  Bonaparte  was  ma- 
king his  power  felt  thoroughout  Europe.  He  had  decreed 
that  Tyrol  should  belong  to  Bavaria,  and  not  to  Austria, 
and  sent  a  French  and  Bavarian  army  to  accomplish  his 
purpose.     The  Austin ans  retreated.     The  Tyrolese  ivsis- 


USEFULNESS.  161 

ted  valiantly.  Men,  women  and  children  of  the  moun- 
tain land  were  filled  with  zeal  in  defence  of  their  homes. 
On  one  occasion  10,000  French  and  Bavarian  troops  were 
destroyed  in  a  single  mountain  pass,  by  an  immense  ava- 
lanche of  rocks  and  trees  prepared  and  hurled  upon  them 
by  an  unseen  foe. 

A  secret  arrangement  existed  among  the  Tyrolese,  by 
which  the  approach  of  the  enemy  was  to  be  communica- 
ted from  village  to  village  by  signal  fires,  from  one  moun- 
tain height  to  another,  and  materials  were  laid  ready  to 
give  instant  alarm. 

The  village  where  Haus  and  his  mother  lived  was  in 
the  direct  line  of  the  route  the  French  army  would  take 
and  the  people  were  full  of  anxiety  and  fear.  All  were 
preparing  for  the  expected  struggle.  The  widow  and  her 
crippled  son  alone  seemed  to  have  no  part  but  to  sit  still 
and  wait.  "Ah,  Hans,"  she  said,  one  evening,  "  It  is  well 
for  us  now  that  you  can  be  of  little  use;  they  would  else- 
make  a  soldier  of  you."  This  struck  a  tender  chord. — 
The  tears  rolled  from  his  cheek.  "Mother,  I  am  useless," 
cried  Hans  in  bitter  grief.  "Look  round  our  village — all 
are  busy,  all  ready  to  strive  for  home  and  father-land — I 
am  useless." 

"My  boy,  my  kind,  dear  son.  you  are  not  useless  to 
me."' 

"Yes,  to  you;  I  cannot  work  for  you,  cannot  support 
you  in  old  age.     Why  was  I  made,  mother?'* 

"Hush,  Hans,"  said  his  mother;  "these  repining 
thoughts  are  wrong.  You  will  live  to  find  the  truth  of 
our  old  proverb : 

"  God  has  his  plan 
For  every  man." 

Little  did  Hans  think  that  ere  a  few  weeks  had  passed, 
this  truth  was  to  be  verified  in  a  remarkable  manner. 


162  ELEMENTARY    MORAL    LESSONS. 

Easter  holidays,  the  festive  season  of  Switzerland,  came. 
The  people  lost  their  fears  of  invasion  in  the  sports  of  the 
season.  All  were  busy  in  the  merry-making — all  but 
Hans.  He  stood  alone  on  the  porch  of  his  mountain  hut, 
overlooking  the  village. 

In  the  evening  of  Easter,  after  his  usual  evening  prayer, 
in  which  he  breathed  the  wish  that  the  Father  of  mercies 
would,  in  his  good  time,  afford  him  some  opportunity  of 
being  useful  to  others,  he  fell  into  a  deep  sleep. 

He  awoke  in  the  night,  as  if  from  a  dream,  under  the 
strong  impression  that  the  French  and  Bavarian  army 
was  approaching.  He  could  not  shake  off  this  impression; 
but  with  the  hope  of  being  rid  of  it,  he  rose,  hastily  dress- 
ed himself,  and  strolled  up  the  mountain  path.  The  cool 
air  did  him  good,  and  he  continued  his  walk  till  he  climbed 
to  the  signal  pile.  Hans  walked  round  the  pile;  but 
where  were  the  watchers'?  They  were  nowhere  to  be 
seen,  and  perhaps  they  were  busied  with  the  festivities  of 
the  village.  Near  the  pile  was  an  old  pine  tree,  and  in 
its  hollow  stem  the  tinder  was  laid  ready.  Hans  paused 
by  the  hollow  tree,  and  as  he  listened,  a  singular  sound 
caught  his  attention.  He  heard  a  slow  and  stealthy  tread 
then  the  click  of  muskets ;  and  two  soldiers  crept  along 
the  cliff.  Seeing  no  one,  for  Hans  was  hidden  by  the  old 
tree,  they  gave  the  signal  to  some  comrads  in  the  distance. 

Hans  saw  instantly  the  plot  and  the  danger.  The  se- 
cret of  the  signal  pile  had  been  revealed  to  the  enemy: 
a  party  had  been  sent  forward  to  destroy  it;  the  army  was 
marching  to  attack  the  village.  With  no  thought  of  his 
own  peril,  and  perhaps  recalling  the  proverb  his  mother 
had  quoted,  he  seized  the  tinder,  struck  the  light,  and 
flung  the  blazing  turpentine  brand  into  the  pile. 

The  two  soldiers,  whose  backs  were  then  turned  to  the 
pile,  waiting  the  arrival  of  their  comrades,  were  seized 


USEFULNESS.  163 

with  fear;  but  they  soon  saw  there  were  no  foes  in  am- 
bush— none  birfn  single  youth  running  clown  the  moun- 
tain path.  They  fired,  and  lodged  a  bullet  in  the  boy's 
shoulder.  Yet  the  signal-fire  was  blazing  high,  and  the 
whole  country  would  be  roused.  It  was  already  aroused 
from  mountain-top  to  mountain-top.  The  plan  of  the  ad- 
vancing army  was  defeated,  and  a  hasty  escape  followed. 

Hans,  faint  and  bleeding,  made  his  way  to  the  village. 
The  peopie,  with  their  arms,  were  mustering  thick  and 
fast.  All  was  consternation.  The  inquiry  was  every- 
where heard,  "Who  lighted  the  pile?"  "It  was  I,"  said 
at  last  a  faint,  almost  expiring  voice.  Poor  crippled 
Hans  tottered  among  them,  saying,  "The  enemy — the 
French  were  there.''  He  faltered,  and  sank  upon  the 
ground.  "Take  me  to  my  mother."  said  he:  "at  last  I 
have  not  been  useless." 

They  stooped  to  lift  him.  "What  is  tins'?"  they  cried; 
"he  has  been  shot.  It  is  true;  Hans,  the  cripple,  has 
saved  us."  They  carried  Hans  to  his  mother,  and  laid 
him  before  her.  As  she  bowed  in  anguish  over  his  pale 
face,  Hans  opened  his  eyes  and  said,  "It  is  not  now,  dear 
mother,  you  should  weep  for  me ;  I  am  happy  now.  Yes, 
mother,  it  is  true, 

"  God  has  his  plan 
For  every  man. 

You  see  he  had  it  for  me,  though  we  did  not  know  what 
it  was." 

Hans  did  not  recover  from  his  wound,  but  he  lived  long 
enough  to  know  that  he  had  been  of  use  to  his  village  and 
the  country;  he  lived  to  see  grateful  mothers  embrace 
his  mother,  to  hear  that  she  should  be  considered  a  sacred 
and  honored  bequest  to  the  community  which  her  son  had 
preserved  at  the  cost  of  his  own  life. 

Great  emergencies  like  those  which  met  Hans,  cannot 


164  ELEMENTARY    MORAL    LESSONS. 

exist  in  the  history  of  all.  To  all,  however,  the  Tyro- 
lese  motto  may  speak,  and  all  will  experience  its  truth. 
None  need  stand  useless  members  of  God's  great  family. 
There  is  work  for  every  one  to  do,  if  he  will  but  look 
out  for  it.  So  long  as  there  is  ignorance  to  instruct,  want 
to  relieve,  sorrow  to  soothe,  let  there  be  no  drones  in  the 
hive,  no  idlers  in  the  great  vineyard  of  the  world. 


QUESTIONS    FOR    ILLUSTRATION. 

1.  Some  persons  labor  very  hard  to  become  rich. 
Are  all  successful  who  try  to  be  rich? 

2.  Some  persons  devote  almost  a  whole  lifetime  of 
labor  to  the  study  of  inventions  and  improvements  in 
machinery.     Are  such  persons  always  successful'? 

3.  Some  persons  try  very  hard  to  become  distinguished 
scholars,  or  statesmen,  or  generals.  Are  such  persons 
always  successful'? 

4.  But  if  any  one  feels  very  anxious  to  be  useful  in 
some  way,  and  labors  very  diligently  for  this  object,  may 
any  one  be  successful  ? 

5.  In  the  last  narrative,  which  was  the  more  useful  to 
his  country,  the  poor,  cripple  boy  who  lighted  the  fire  on 
the  mountain  top,  or  a  common,  able-bodied  soldier? 

0.  It  was  a  great  satisfaction  to  this  poor  Tyrolese  boy 
to  think  that  he  had  been  useful,  even  at  the  sacrifice  of 
his  life.  Was  his  desire  for  usefulness  too  strong?  How 
much  less  may  we  love  to  be  useful? 

7.  May  any  one  learn  to  love  to  be  useful  ?  In  what 
manner? 


USEFULNESS.  1(35 

8.  Should  persons  choose  a  useful  occupation  because 
they  love  to  be  useful,  or  will  it  answer  just  as  well,  to 
choose  a  very  useful  employment  because  we  can  make 
more  money  in  such  an  employment? 


NARRATIVE. 

Noble  Conduct. — The  State  House  in  Milledgeville, 
Geo.,  took  fire  in  1853,  but  was  saved  by  the  great  and 
hazardous  exertions  of  a  colored  man — a  slave.  Soon  as 
the  fire  was  over,  his  liberty  was  offered  him,  but  he  re- 
fused to  accept  it.  Doubtless  he  loved  liberty,  but  loved 
the  pleasure  of  "doing  good"  without  pay,  still  better. 
There  are  enough  ready  to  do  good,  when  they  think  they 
shall  make  something  by  it." 


9.  In  choosing  an  employment,  some  persons  askjirst. 
how  many  advantages  they  can  thereby  secure  to  them- 
selves, and  secondly,  how  useful  they  can,  at  the  same  time 
be  to  others;  other  persons  ask  first  how  useful  they  can 
be  to  those  around  them,  and  lastly  how  much  they  can. 
at  the  same  time,  do  for  themselves.  Which  course  do 
you  prefer  ? 

10.  Which  would  you  think  the  more  unfortunate  per- 
son, the  one  who  had  lived  forty  years  and  secured  an 
abundance  of  luxuries  and  enjoyments  for  himself,  with- 
out thinking  of  the  welfare  of  others,  or  the  one  who  had 
lived  a  whole  life  of  labor  and  privation,  himself,  that  he 
might  make  others  happy  around  him? 


t'66  ELEMENTARY    MORAL    LESSONS. 

NARRATIVE. 

A  Useful  Man. — John  Pounds,  the  founder  of  Ragged 
Schools,  was  the  son  of  a  workman  employed  in  the  Roy- 
al Dock-yards  at  Portsmouth,  Eng..  and  was  born  in  that 
town  m  1766.  At  the  age  of  fifteen,  he  met  with  an  ac- 
cident which  crippled  him  for  life.  A  cobbler  by  trade. 
he  spent  the  greater  part  of  his  benevolent  career  in  a 
small  workshop,  measuring  some  six  feet  by  eighteen,  in 
St.  Mary  Street.  Portsmouth,  where  he  might  be  seen 
day  after  day.  seated  on  his  stool,  mending  shoes,  and 
attending  at  the  same  time  to  the  studies  of  a  busy  crowd 
of  ragged  children,  clustering  around  him.  In  addition 
to  mental  instruction,  he  gave  them  industrial  training. 
and  taught  them  to  cook  their  own  victuals  and  mend 
their  own  shoes.  He  was  unusually  fond  of  all  kinds  of 
birds  and  domestic  animals,  and  amused  himself  with  rea  r- 
iiig  singing  birds,  jays  and  parrots,  which  he  trained  to 
live  harmoniously  with  his  cats  and  guinea  pigs.  Some- 
times he  might  be  seen,  seated  in  the  midst  of  his  school, 
with  a  canary-bird  perched  on  one  shoulder,  and  a  cat  on 
the  other.  But  he  was  to  poor  to  be  able  long  to  indulge 
in  all  his  benevolent  fancies.  When  his  scholars  became 
numerous,  he  gave  up  his  cats  and  canary-birds,  and  devo- 
ted the  latter  part  of  his  life  exclusively  to  the  more  in- 
tellectual employment  of  taming  and  subduing  the  "wild 
Arabs  of  the  city."  How  applicable  to  him  the  immor- 
tal lines  of  Coleridge: 

"He  prayeth  well,  -who  lovetii  well 

All  things  both  s;rcat  and  small — 
He  prayeth  best,  who  loveth  best 

Both  man,  and  bird,  and  beast: 
For  the  dear  God,  who  loveth  us, 

He  made  and  lovetii  all.*' 

The  candidates  for  admission  to  John  Pounds"  school 
were  always  very  numerous.     But  he  invariably  save 


USEFULNESS.  167 

preference  to  the  worst  as  well  as  the  poorest  children — 
to  the  "little  blackguards,"'  as  he  called  them.  He  used 
to  follow  them  to  the  quay,  and  offer  them  the  bribe  of 
a  roasted  potato,  if  they  would  come  to  his  school.  Well 
was  he  repaid  for  his  unwearied  labors  by  the  love  and 
affection  which  these  clildren  bore  to  him.  It  is  said  that 
John  Pounds'  Ragged  School  had  the  following  origin : 
In  early  life  he  adopted  a  young  nephew  of  his  own, 
whom  he  thought  he  could  educate  better  with  a  compan- 
ion, than  alone,  and  he  accordingly  enlisted  in  his  service 
the  son  of  a  poor  woman.  Then  another  and  another 
child  was  added,  until  at  last  he  collected  around  him  a 
large  school  of  boys  and  girls.  Poor  as  he  was,  he  es- 
tablished his  nephew  comfortably  in  the  world;  and  dur- 
ing the  latter  years  of  his  life,  he  had  no  less  than  forty 
scholars.  He  died  on  the  1st  of  January,  1839,  aged  72. 
There  was  much  weeping  and  shedding  of  tears  in  Ports- 
mouth. The  children  had  lost  at  once  their  father,  and 
best  friend,  and  most  amusing  playfellow — Portsmouth 
had  lost  one  of  her  noblest  ornaments — England  one  of 
her  most  illustrious  patriots.  We  rejoice  to  think  that 
many  who  never  before  heard  of  John  Pounds,  will, 
through  Mr.  Guthrie's  "Second  Plea,"  become  acquainted 
with  him.  How  beautiful  is  the  following  tribute  to  his 
memory : 

"Were  we."  says  Mr.  Guthrie,  "to  make  a  pilgrimage 
anywhere,  as  soon  as  to  the  lowly  heath  where  the  martyr 
reposes,  we  would  direct  out  steps  to  the  busy  streets  of 
Portsmouth,  and  turning  aside  from  the  proud  array  of 
England's  floating  bulwarks,  we  would  seek  out  the  hum- 
ble shop  where  John  Pounds  achieved  his  work  of  mercy 
and  earned  an  imperishable  fame.  There  is  no  poetry  in 
his  name,  and  none  in  his  profession ;  but  there  was  more- 
than  poetry  —  the  highest,  noblest  piety — in  his  life. — - 


168  ELEMENTARY    MORAL    LESSONS. 

Every  day  within  his  shop  he  might  be  seen  cobbling 
shoes,  and  surrounded  by  some  score  or  two  of  ragged 
urchins,  whom  he  was  converting  into  useful  mem- 
bers of  the  State.  Honor  to  the  memory  of  the  patriot 
cobbler,  beneath  whose  leather  apron  there  beat  the  kind- 
est heart — there  glowed  a  bosom  fired  with  the  noblest 
ambition ;  and  who  without  fee  from  scholar  or  reward 
from  man,  while  he  toiled  for  his  hard  earned  bread  with 
the  sweat  of  his  brow  educated  not  less  than  five  hundred 
out-casts,  before  they  laid  him  in  the  lowly  grave !  Hon- 
or, we  say  again,  to  the  memory  of  this  illustrious  patri- 
ot! Nor  is  there  in  all  the  world  any  sight  we  would 
have  traveled  so  far  or  so  soon  to  see,  as  that  self-same 
man,  when  he  followed  some  ragged  boy  along  the  quays 
of  Portsmouth,  keeping  his  kind,  keen  eye  upon  him,  and 
tempting  the  young  savage  to  his  school  with  the  bribe  of 
a  smoking  potato.  Princes  and  peers,  judges  and  divines, 
might  have  stood  uncovered  in  his  presence;  and  how 
marble  monuments  might  be  removed  from  the  venerable 
walls  of  Westminister — poets,  warriors  and  statesmen 
might  give  place — to  make  room  for  him. 

John  Pounds  has  a  nobler  and  more  lasting  monument 
than  any  of  marble  or  brass — he  has 

"For  epitaph,  a  life  well  spent, 
And  mankind  for  a  monument." 


11.  Did  John  Pounds  have  more,  or  less  advantages 
for  doing  good  than  most  persons  have'?  Did  he  have 
greater  advantages  for  learning  himself?  Did  he  have 
more  money  ? — more  influence'?  Wliy  was  he  more  suc- 
cessful than  most  persons  are  in  living  usefully'? 

l%-2.  Most  persons  think  it  is  very  desirable  to  occupy 


KINDNESS  TO  THE  UNFORTUNATE.  169 

some  high  station  in  life.  What  higher  station  is  there, 
than  every  one  can  make,  for  himself  or  herself,  by  liv- 
ing usefully'? 


LESSON  XXIII 


BE  KIND  TO  THE  UNFORTUNATE. 


narrative. 

An  Incident  in  School  Life  —  Never  Twit  a  Boy  of 
what  he  cannot  Avoid. —Years  ago,  when  I  was  a  boy, 
it  was  customary,  and  probably-  is  now  to  some  extent, 
among  district  schools  in  the  country,  to  have  spelling- 
schools  during  the  winter  term.  These  gatherings  were 
always  anticipated  with  great  interest  by  the  scholars,  as 
at  these  times  was  to  be  decided  who  was  the  best  speller.. 
Occasionally  one  school  would  visit  another  for  test  of 
scholarship  in  this  regard.  Ah!  how  the  little  hearts 
would  throb,  and  big  ones  thump,  in  their  anxiety  to  beat 
the  whole. 

Once  on  a  time,  a  neighboring  school  sent  word,  to 
ours,  that  on  a  certain  day  in  the  afternoon,  they  would 
meet  in  our  school-house  for  one  of  these  contests.  As 
the  time  was  short,  most  of  the  other  studies  were  sus- 
pended, and  at  school  and  at  home  in  the  evenings,  all 
hands  were  studying  to  master  the  monosyllables,  dissyl- 
lables, abreviations,  &c,  &c,  which  the  spelling  books 
contained. 

At  length  the  day  arrived,  and  as  our  visitors  were 
19 


170  ELEMENTARY    MORAL    LESSONS. 

considered  rather  our  superiors,  our  fears  and  anxiety 
were  proportionately  great.  The  scholars  were  ranged 
in  a  standing  position,  on  opposite  sides  of  the  house  and 
the  words  pronounced  to  each  side  alternately;  and  the 
scholar  that  "missed"  was  to  sit  down.  His  game  was 
up. 

It  did  not  take  long  to  thin  the  ranks  of  both  sides. — 
In  a  short  time  our  school  had  but  eight  on  the  floor,  and 
theirs  six.  After- a  few  rounds,  the  contest  turned  in 
their  favor,  as  they  had  four  standing  to  our  two.  For 
a  long  time  it  seemed  as  though  these  six  had  the  book 
"by  heart.''  At  length  the  number  was  reduced  to  one 
on  each  side.  Our  visitors  were  represented  by  an  ac- 
complished young  lady,  whose  parents  had  recently  ar- 
rived in  town,  and.  hours  by  myself,  a  ragged  little  boy 
of  ten  summers,  who  had  set  up  night  after  night,  while 
my  mother,  with  no  other  light  than  that  produced  by 
a  pine  knot,  pronounced  my  lessons  to  me.  The  interest 
of  the  spectators  was  excited  to  the  highest  pitch,  as  word 
after  word  was  spelled  by  each.  At  length  the  young 
lady  missed,  and  I  stood  alone.  Her  teacher  said  she 
did  not  understand  the  word.  She  declared  she  did:  that 
the  honor  was  mine,  and  that  I  richly  deserved  it.  That 
was  a  proud  moment  for  me.  I  had  spelled  down  both 
schools  and  was  declared  victor.  My  "cheeks  burned,  and 
my  brain  was  dizzy  with  excitement. 

Soon  as  the  school  was  dismissed,  my  competitress 
came  and  sat  down  by  my  side  and  congratulated  me  on 
my  success,  inquired  my  name  and  age.  and  flatteringly 
predicted  jay  future  success  in  life. 

Unaccustomed  to  such  attentions,  1  doubtless  acted  us 
most  little  boys  would  under  such  circumstances,  injudi- 
ciously. At  this  junction;  Master  G.,  the  sou  of  the  rich 
man  of  our  neighborhood-  tauntingly  said  to  me.  in  the 


KINDNESS  TO  THE  UNFORTUNATE.  171 

presence  of  my  fair  friend,  and  a  number  of  boys  from 
the  other  school — "Oh,  you  needn't  feel  so  big — your 
folks  are  poor  and  your  father  is  a  drunkard." 

I  was  no  more  happy  —  I  was  a  drunkard's  son — and 
how  could  I  look  niy  new  friends  in  the  face?  My  heart 
seemed  to  rise  in  my  throat,  and  almost  suffocated  me. 
The  hot  tears  scalded  my  eyes — but  1  kept  them  back; 
and  soon  as  possible,  quietly  slipping  away  from  my  com- 
panions, procured  my  dinner  basket,  and,  unobserved, 
left  the  scene  of  my  triumph  and  disgrace,  with  a  heavy 
heart,  for  my  home.  But  what  a  home!  "My  folks 
were-  poor — and  my  lather  was  a  drunkard.''  But  why 
should  I  be  reproached  for  that?  I  could  not  prevent  my 
father's  drinking,  and  assisted  and  encouraged  by  my 
mother,  1  had  done  all  I  could,  to  keep  my  place  in  my 
class  at  school,  and  to  assist  her  in  her  worse  than  wid- 
owhood. Boy  as  I  was.  I  inwardly  resolved  never  to 
taste  of  liquor,  and  that  I  would,  show  Master  G.  if  I  was 
a  drunkard's  son,  I  would  yet  stand  as  high  as  he  did. — 
But  all  my  resolution  was  produced  by  his  taunting  words 
and  haughty  manner.  In  this  frame  of  mind,  my  head 
and  heart  aching,  my  eyes  red  and  swollen — I  reached 
home.  My  mother  saw  at  once  that  I  was  in  trouble, 
and  inquired  the  cause.  I  buried  my  face  in  her  lap,  and 
burst  into  tears.  Mother  seeing  my  grief,  waited  until 
I  was  more  composed,  when  I  told  her  what  had  happened, 
and  added  passionately — "I  wish  father  wouldn't  be  a 
drunkard,  so  we  could  be  respected  as  other  folks."  At 
first  mother  seemed  almost  overwhelmed,  but  quickly 
rallying,  said,  "My  son,  I  feel  very  sorry  for  you,  and 
regret  that  your  feelings  have  been  so  injured.  G.  has 
twitted  you  about  things  you  cannot  help.  But  never 
mind,  my  son.  Be  always  honest,  never  taste  a  drop  of 
intoxicating  liquor;  study  and  improve  your  mind.     De- 


172  ELEMENTARY    MORAL    LESSONS. 

pend  on  your  own  exertions,  trusting  in  God.  and  you 
will,  if  your  life  is  spared,  make  a  useful  and  respected 
man.  I  wish  your  father,  when  sober,  could  have  wit- 
nessed this  scene,  and  realize  the  sorrow  his  course  brings 
on  us  all.  But  keep  a  brave  heart,  my  son.  Remember 
you  are  responsible  only  for  your  own  faults.  Pray 
to  God  to  keep  you,  and  don't  grieve  for  the  thoughtless 
and  unkind  reproaches  that  may  be  cast  on  you  on  your 
father's  account.'"  This  lesson  of  my  blessed  mother,  1 
trust,  was  not  lost  upon  me.  Nearly  forty  years  have 
gone  since  that  day,  and  I  have  passed  many  trying  scenes 
but  none  ever  made  so  strong  an  impression  on  my  feel- 
ings as  that  heartless  remark  of  G's.  It  was  so  unjust, 
and  so  uncalled  for.  Now.  boys,  remember  always  to 
.treat  your  mates  with  kindness.  Never  indulge  in  taun- 
ting remarks  toward  any  one,  and  remember  that  the  son 
of  a  poor  man,  and  even  of  a  drunkard,  may  have  sen- 
sibilities as  keen  as  your  own. 

But  there  is  another  part  in  this  story.  The  other  day 
a  gentleman  called  at  my  place  of  business,  and  asked  if 
I  did  not  recognize  him.  I  told  him  I  did  not.  "Do  you 
remember."  said  he.  "of  being  at  a  spelling-school  a  cer- 
tain time,  and  a  rude,  thoughtless  boy  twitted  you  of 
poverty  and  being  a  drunkard's  son?''  "I  do,  most  dis- 
tinctly, said  I."  "Well."  continued  the  gentleman.  "I  am 
that  boy.  There  lias  not  probably  a  month  of  my  life 
passed  since  then,  but  I  have  thought  of  that  remark 
with  regret  and  shame,  and  as  I  am  about  leaving  for 
California,  perhaps  to  end  my  days  there.  1  could  not  go 
without  first  calling  on  you,  and  asking  your  forgiveness 
for  that  act."  Boys,  I  gave  him  my  hand  as  a  pledge  of 
forgiveness.  Did  I  do  right?  You  all  say  yes.  Well, 
then,  let  me  close  it  as  a  bargain.  Boys  never  twit  an- 
other for  what  he  cannot  help. — Buffalo  Courier. 


KINDNESS  TO  THE   UNFORTUNATE.  I  ?o 


QUESTIONS  FOR   ILLUSTRATION. 

I .  Was  it  already  a  source  of  deep  sorrow  to  the  boy 
in  the  narrative,  that  his  lather  was  intemperate?  What 
was  then  the  duty  of  every  other  scholar  towards  this 
hoy? 

'2.  If  we  know  that  children,  or  others,  are  suffering 
from  cruelty  or  misconduct  which  they  cannot  prevent, 
what  is  always  our  duty  towards  them? 

o.  In  what  ways  do  persons  often  add  to  the  sorrows  of 

<  >thers  unnecessarily  ? 

4.  In  what  ways  might  the  same  persons  often  help  to 
lessen  the  same  sorrows? 

5.  What  do  you  observe  to  approve  iu  the  conduct  of 
the  young  lady  who  came  and  conversed  with  the  boy 
after  the  spelling  exercise? 

(5.  Which  would  you  value  the  more  highly,  were  you 
in  circumstances  of  poverty  or  misfortune,  kind  words  of 
sympathy  and  encouragement,  or  presents  of  money  or 
goods'? 

7.  Some  persons  desire  to  be  respected  and  loved  on 
account  of  their  fine  personal  appearance,  and  some  for 
their  expensive  or  fashionable  dress,  and  some  for  their 
rich  relatives.  What  qualities  do  you  think  should  en- 
title any  one  to  respect  and  sympathy  from  every  one? 


NARRATIVE. 


The  Patched  Gown. — "I  wish  I  had  a  better  gown, 
lother,"  said  Emily  Foster,  as  she  was  getting  ready  for 


174- 


ELEMENTARY    MORAL    LESSONS. 


school,  one  cold  morning  in  December;  "the  girls  laugh, 
at  this  so:  and  yesterday.  Julia  Haven  asked  rrie,  if  I 
bought  it  of  the  rag-man ." 

Mrs.  Foster's  eyes  filled  with  tears  while  her  little 
(laughter  was  speaking.  A  few  years  before  she  had 
been  prosperous  in  circumstances;  but  the  death  of  her 
husband,  and  much  sickness  in  the  family  afterwards,  had 
reduced  her  to  distressing  poverty.  Emily  was  the  eld- 
est of  her  three  children,  and  she  had  but  just  entered 
upon  her  eighth  year,  so  that, — although  the  poor  woman 
toiled  all  day  with  her  needle,  and  Emily  worked  dili- 
gently almost  every  minute  out  of  school  hours, — she 
was  hardly  able  to  provide  the  family  with  the  scanty 
food  which  was  their  daily  fare,  or  with  sufficient  clothing 
to  shield  them  from  the  inclemency  of  the  weather.  She 
had  made  a  great  effort  to  send  her  daughter  to  school, 
because  she  was  very  anxious  that  she  should  learn  all 
that  was  possible  in  her  circumstances.  She  knew  that 
she  could  go  only  a  very  short  time,  when  she  must  leave 
school  to  toil  wearily  and  uninterruptedly.  It  was  there- 
fore with  a  sorrowful  heart  she  learned  that  Emily  had 
been  exposed  to  ridicule  on  account  of  her  patched  and 
scanty  dress.  She  tried  hard,  however,  to  conquerjier 
emotion,  and  after  being  silent  a  moment,  said: 

"But,  my  dear,  your  gown  is  not  ragged.  There  is 
not  a  single  hole  in  it." 

"I  know  it,  mother.  1  suppose  they  laugh  at  it  because 
it  is  patched  up  so.  I  could  hardly  help  crying  yester- 
day, they  made  so  much  sport  of  it." 

"But  it  is  no  harm,  my  child,  to  wear  a  patched  gown. 
It  is  the  very  best  I  can  get  for  you." 

"1  know  that,  and  I  try  hard  not  to  care  what  the  girls 
say — only  sometimes  it  makes  me  feel  so  bad." 

-hist  then  a  lady  entered,  to  engage  Mrs.  Foster  fco  do 


KINDNESS  TO   THE    l/XFOUTUN  ATE.  ] 

some  sowing  for  her.  and  so  the  conversation  between  the 
mother  and  daughter  was  interrupted. 

Alas!  thoughtless  children  little  know  how  much  un- 
liappiness  they  often  cause  those,  who  have  Sufci-Ogs 
ft/on(/h  from  the  ills  of  poverty ! 


s.  Should  patched  dresses,  or  hitemperatc  parents,  or 
poverty.  prevent  any  one  from  being  respected  and  loved? 

9.  Which  would  you  think  the  more  criminal,  to  steal 
small  articles  of  property  from  poor  and  unfortunate 
children,  or  to  rob  them  of  their  rights  and  their  happi- 
ness, by  ridiculing  their  dress,  or  by  allusions  to  the  in- 
temperance of  their 'parents,  as  in  the  foregoing  narrative? 


NARRATIVE. 

A  Scene. — We  saw  yesterday,  at  the  Depot,  a  poor. 
pale,  little  girl  peddling  peaches  among  the  passengers 
who  were  constantly  coming  and  going  through  the  place. 
Her  sorrowful  looks,  her  timid  way,  her  pale  thin  face, 
with  the  traces  of  tears  visible  upon  it,  and  her  meek  bine 
eye.  "all  and  singular,"  had  their  effect  upon  the  stran- 
gers around,  and  many  there  were  that  bought  her  fruit 
to  cheer  her  heart,  and  with  their  bits  of  silver  dropped 
a  word  of  kindness  and  encouragement  in  her  ear,  more 
precious  than  coin  to  her,  after  the  pressing  necessity  that 
drove  her  among  that  crowd,  should  be  satisfied.  But 
one  there  was  who  excited  our  indignation.  With  a 
costly  overcoat  upon  one  arm,  a  well-stuffed  carpet-bag 
in  the  other  hand,  in  elegant  apparel,  and  with  a  massive 
gold  watch-chain  dangling  a  foot  in  length  from  his  fob 


176  ELEMENTARY    MORAL    LESSONS. 

and  ending  in  a  costly  seal,  he  passed  through  on  his  way 
to  the  western  ears.  "Please  buy  some  peaches.  S\yV~ 
said  the  little  girl,  with  an  arch  twist  of  the  head  and  a 
pleasant  smile  playing  about  her  lips,  brought  there  by 
the  cheerful  words  that  had  fallen  so  like  a  gentle  bless- 
ing on  her  heart.  "Some  peaches?  only  a  penny  apiece.'* 
and  she  held  out  her  basket.  "Get  away  with  your 
trash!''  was  the  surly  response  of  this  human  mastiff,  ac- 
companied by  a  kick,  which  knocked  the  basket  from  the 
poor  creature's  hand  and  scattered  its  contents  among* 
a  crowd  of  greedy  boys,  who  commenced  picking  up  the 
fruit  and  devouring  it. 

The  clouds  of  sorrow  all  came  back  again  in  a  moment, 
and,  at  this  new  trouble,  her  tears  gushed  forth  from  her 
eyes  afresh.  A  citizen  who  stood  by  quietly  stepped 
up  and  paid  for  the  peaches  and  bade  her  never  mind. 
The  man  (?)  who  did  it  went  on  with  a  look  of  conscious 
mightiness  and  seated  himself  in  the  car.     We  saw  that 

his  baggage    was  labelled — "C ,  home,"  where  he 

doubtless  secures  the  fawning  always  attendant  upon 
wealth,  and  is  considered  a  "respectable''  member  of 
community. — Buffalo  Rough  Notes. 


10.  Which  would  you  think  the  more  disgraceful  and 
criminal,  to  steal  a  poor  girl's  peaches,  or  scatter  them 
to  the  boys,  as  the  man  did  in  the  last  narrative, 


VARIED  APPLICATION  OF  RIGHT  PRINCIPLES 
QUESTIONS    FOR    SPECIAL  AND  GENERAL  REVIEW. 

!.   Boys  sometimes  tcaze.  and  annoy,  and  abuse  drun- 


KINDNESS  TO  THE  UNFORTUNATE.  177 

ken  persons.  If  a  man  is  so  very  unfortunate  as  to  be 
a  drunkard,  is  it  right  to  make  sport  of  him  or  abuse 
him? 

2.  Persons  who  are  insane,  or  idiotic,  sometimes  wan- 
der about  the  city  or  country.  Is  it  right,  in  any  man- 
ner, to  make  sport  of  their  singular  appearance,  or  strange 
conduct  ? 

3.  Families  that  are  very  poor  sometimes  travel  through 
cities  and  the  country,  and  boys  make  sport  of  their  pov- 
erty and  distress.  What  course  of  conduct  ought  every 
one  to  pursue  towards  such  persons? 

4.  Sometimes  very  worthy  persons,  who  have  lost  an 
eye,  or  lost  a  limb,  are  treated  with  coldness  and  neglect 
on  this  account,  by  their  acquaintances,  or  by  strangers. 
Ef  you  should  become  deformed  by  an  accident  upon  the 
rail  road,  how  would  you  like  to  have  your  acquaintan- 
ces and  strangers  treat  you? 

5.  Aged  and  infirm  persons  are  often  much  neglected 
on  account  of  their  age  or  infirmity.  How  should  tin* 
be  I 

(5.  Persons  who  have  not  had  the  advantages  of  edu- 
cation or  of  much  society,  often  have  their  feelings  very 
much  injured  by  the  ridicule,  or  the  sneers,  or  the  haugh- 
tiness of  those  who  have  had  very  superior  advantages. 
How  should  this  be? 


LESSON  XXIV 


DO  EIGHT  AND  FEAK  NOT. 


NARRATIVE. 


Do  Right  and  Fear  not. — In  the  spring  of  the  year 
1770,  a  large  military  and  naval  force  from  the  old  coun- 
try was  stationed  at  Boston,  to  overawe  the  people  and 
keep  down  the  spirit  of  liberty  which  was  rising  in  the 
colonies.  The  proceeding  was,  of  course,  exceedingly 
odious  to  the  citizens,  and  the  British  soldiers  were  often 
subjects  of  taunt  and  insult.  On  the  evening  of  the  5th 
of  March,  a  turbulent  party  of  men  and  boys,' surroun- 
ded a  sergeant's  guard,  and  pelted  them  with  snow-balls. 
Irritated  to  the  highest  degree,  they  fired  upon  their  as- 
sailants, and  killed  five  of  them.  The  indignation  of  the 
populace  was  deep  and  violent,  and  could  scarcely  be  re- 
strained by  the  force  of  the  law.  The  soldiers  were  ar- 
rested and  charged  with  wilful  murder.  Their  chance 
for  a  fair  trial  in  such  a  community  was  indeed  desper- 
ate. They  applied  to  John  Adams,  (father  of  the  late 
John  Quincy  Adams,)  and  Josiah  Quincy,  Jr.,  (father  of 
the  late  President  of  Harvard  College,)  two  of  the  first 
lawyers  of  their  day,  and  also  two  of  the  most  fearless 
and  determined  opposers  of  British  oppression.  It  was 
a  rare  compliment  that  these  forlorn  prisoners  paid  to 
the  integrity  and  magnanimity  of  these  patriotic  gentle- 
men.    They,  (Messrs.   Adams  and   Quincy,)  were  satis- 


DO  RIGHT.  179^ 

tied  that  the  soldiers  acted  in  self-defence,  and  that  they 
were  guilty  of  nothing  more  than  what  is  called  justifi- 
able homicide.  In  other  words,  that  the  law  would  not 
hold  them  guilty    of  murder. 

But  there  was  reason  to  fear,  that  the  voice  of  justice 
would  not  be  heard  in  the  din  and  clamor  of  political, 
strife ;  and  yet  for  them  to  become  the  defenders  of  such 
men — to  protect  and  befriend  the  invaders  of  the  coun- 
try, and  the  minions  of  despotic  power,  was  to  encounter 
the  storm  of  popular  passion,  and  to  expose  themselves 
to  the  loss  of  reputation,  property  and  public  confidence. 

They,  nevertheless,  did  what  duty  demanded.  Justice 
was  maintained — the  law  was  vindicated — and  the  rights 
even  of  an  enemy  were  respected.  For  a  time,  however:, 
the  exalted  name  and  virtues  of  the  two  patriots  were 
under  reproach,  and  it  was  not  until  the  excitement  of 
the  circumstances  passed  away,  that  their  noble  and  mag- 
nanimous course  received  its  admiration,  and  their  char- 
acter, shone  forth  with  increased  brightness. 


QUESTIONS  FOR  ILLUSTRATION. 

.!.  If  the  whole  people  had  threatened  Mr.  Adams  and" 
Mr,  Quiney  with  personal  violence,  if  they  undertook 
to  defend  the  enemies  of  their  country,  what  would  you 
have  advised  them  to  do,  in  case  they  thought  that  strict 
justice  required  them  to  defend  the  soldiers? 

%  But  if  Mr.  Adams  and  Mr.  Quiney  had  truly  be- 
lieved that  some  American  soldiers  were  really  guilty  of 
murder,  and  ought  to  be  tried  for  their  crime,  while  all 
^>i  the  people  were  very  anxious  to  excuse  and  protect 
them,  what  would  you  have  advised  these  eminent  law- 
yers to  do'? 


180  ELEMENTARY    MORAL    LESSONS. 

3.  In  which  case  is  it  the  more  difficult  to  do  right, 
when  we  fear  giving  offence  to  our  best  friends,  or  when 
we  fear  persecution  and  violence  from  our  enemies'? 

4.  Which  would  you  think  worthy  of  the  greater  hon- 
or, the  person  that  would  dare  to  do  right,  when  both 
friends  and  enemies  opposed,  or  the  man  who  has  reach- 
ed the  highest  public  stations  by  his  talents  and  learning? 

5.  Is  it  more,  or  less  easy  for  the  person  to  do  right, 
who  has  been  neglectful  of  some  duty,  or  who  has  himself 
just  been  guilty  of  some  wrong  act? 


NARRATIVE. 

I  cannot  tell  a  Lie. — In  the  war  of  the  Revolution, 
while  General  Lafayette  commanded  in  the  American 
army,  a  part  of  the  troops  were  encamped  at  a  certain 
place  near  the  water's  edge.  One  calm  summer's  eve- 
ning, a  soldier  who  was  a  fifer  in  one  of  the  companies, 
went  into  the  water  for  the  purpose  of  bathing.  Being 
an  excellent  swimmer  as  well  as  a  fifer,  he  took  his  fife 
with  him  to  the  water  and  engaged  in  fifino-  and  swim- 
rning  at  the  same  time,  The  music  reached  the  ear  of 
Lafayette,  Early  the  next  morning  he  sent  an  officer  in 
pursuit  of  the  man.  who  had  thus  disobeyed  the  orders 
of  the  camp. 

The  soldier  was  a  native  of  Connecticut,  and  a  man  of 
truth.  When  arrested  by  the  officer,  and  on  the  way  to 
the  General's  tent,  he  thought  within  himself  that  perhaps 
he  might  escape  a  severe  punishment  by  denying  the 
deed.  On  a  few  moments'  reflection,  however,  he  said 
to  himself,  "I  have  always  spoken  the  truth — I  cannot 
toll  ;i  lie."     With  this  principle  in  his  mind,  he  came  in 


DO  RIGHT.  181 

the  presence  of  the  General,  who  asked  if  he  was  the  in- 
dividual who  played  upon  the  water  the  evening  previous; 
to  which  he  replied,  "I  am."  "And  do  you  know,"  con- 
tinued Lafayette,  "of  any  others  who  can  play  the  same 
tune?"  "Two  or  three,  I  do,"  said  the  soldier.  "To- 
morrow evening  then,  at  such  an  hour,  I  wish  you  to  re- 
pair to  my  tent  with  them."  He  came  at  the  appointed 
time.  The  General  then  informed  them,  that  the  tune 
which  he  had  heard  the  evening  before,  affected  him  very 
much — that  on  a  former  occasion  it  had  been  played  at 
the  funeral  of  a  dear  friend  of  his,  who  died  in  his  native 
country.  Since  then,  until  now  he  had  never  met  with 
an  individual  who  eonld  play  it,  "And  for  the  purpose  of 
indulging  in  the  melancholy  pleasure  of  hearing  it  once 
more,  I  have,"  said  he,  "  sent  for  you." 

The  General,  after  being  agreeably  entertained  with 
the  conversation  and  music  of  his  guests,  dismissed  them 
with  his  thanks,  and  some  guineas  from  his  purse,  as  an 
expression  of  his  satisfaction  in  their  performance. 


(5.  In  the  army,  soldiers  are  often  whipped  for  disobe- 
dience to  military  discipline.  Which  would  have  been 
the  severer  punishment  to  the  soldier,  in  the  last  narra 
tive,  the  whipping,  or  the  reproof  of  his  conscience? 

7.  Which,  probably,  afforded  the  soldier  the  purer  and 
higher  enjoyment,  the  consciousness  of  doing  right,  or 
the  guineas  from  the  purse  of  General  Lafayette? 

8.  When  we  do  right,  what  must  always  be  our  motive 
for  doing  right? 

8.  Will  doing  right,  because  it  is  right,  be,  of  itself  a 
reward? — greater  than  what  other  rewards? 
20 


182  ELEMENTARY    MORAL    LESSONS. 


NARRATIVE. 


First  Step  to  Distinction. — Known  to  all  is  the 
proverb,  "Honesty  is  the  best  policy;"  and  yet  how 
many  neglect  to  make  it  the  rule  of  their  conduct! 

The  history  of  few  men  more  strikingly  illustrates  the 
truth  of  this  proverb,  than  that  of  the  able  and  illustri- 
ous French  Minister,  Jean  Baptiste  Colbert.  In  Cham- 
ber's Miscellany,  No.  1,  is  a  beautiful  "  Story  of  Colbert," 
from  which  it  appears,  that  he  might  have  said,  at  the 
close  of  his  brilliant  career,  with  Corneille,  "I  owe  all 
my  renown  to  myself."  His  first  step  to  distinction  was 
, while  a  woollen  draper's  apprentice,  an  act  of  honor  and 
honesty.  He  had  been  overpaid,  by  his  mistaking  the 
price  of  a  piece  of  goods,  by  a  banker  of  Paris,  two  hun- 
dred and  forty  crowns.  His  knavish  old  master,  on 
learning  the  fact,  was  delighted,  and  exclaimed,  "You 
are  a  fine  boy,  a  good  boy,  Baptiste;  you  will  one  day 
be  an  honor  to  all  your  friends.  Six  hundred  and  thirty 
francs  profit  on  the  piece !  Oh,  happy  day ! "  And  he 
agreed  to  let  Baptiste  have  something  of  the  profits  as  a 
reward.  But  no  sooner  did  the  honest  boy  learn  the 
mistake,  and  hear  this  remark  of  his  master,  than  he  re- 
plied, "How,  godfather;  would  you  take  advantage?" — 
And  taking  up  his  hat,  he  continued,  "I  will  go  to  the 
gentleman  whom  I  have  treated  so  badiy,  beg  him  to  ex- 
cuse me,  and  return  him  the  money  he  overpaid,"  and  he 
immediately  accomplished  this  honest  resolution;  and  for 
so  doing,  he  was  turned  out  of  employment.  But  this 
act  of  honor  and  honesty,  proved  the  truth  of  the  above 
proverb,  and  became  his  first  step  to  distinction.  The 
next  day,  the  rich  banker,  learning  all  the  facts  connected 
with  the  conduct  of  this  honest  boy,  took  him  into  his 
<>wn  banking-house.     From  that  first  step,  his  career  was 


CRUELTY  TO  ANIMALS.  ]  JS.3 

upward  in  the  road  of  usefulness  and  honor,  till  he  was 
created  "Comptroller-general  of  Finance,"  by  Louis  XIV. 
He  closed  his  useful  and  brilliant  life  in  1683,  at  the. age 
of  sixty-four. 


10.  The  master  of  Colbert,  in  the  last  narrative,  offered 
him  a  portion  of  the  profits  uas  a  reward"  for  bringing 
him  so  much  of  another  man's  money,  through  mistake. 
Though  Colbert  received  not  a  penny  of  the  money,  did 
he  have  any  '■'rewards'1''  for  doing  right? 

11.  Among  all  the  "rewards"  which  Colbert  received 
in  the  course  of  his  life  for  this  act  of  honesty,  which  was 
the  greatest  reward? 


LESSON  XXV. 


BE  MERCIFUL  TO  ANIMALS. 


NARRATIVE. 


Beware  of  Cruelty  to  Birds. — In  the  summer  of 
1830  I  was  returning  from  the  then  village  of  Boch- 
ester,  N.  Y.,  whither  I  had  been  to  attend  the  Genesee 
Conference  on  business  relating  to  the  Oneida  Conference 
Seminary.  The  coach  paused  a  moment  in  front  of  the 
stage-house,  at  the  beautiful  village  of  Canandaigua,  when 
a  fine-looking  gentleman,  accompanied  by  a  little  boy  and 
a  young  lady — the  latter  perhaps  an  older  sister  of  the 
former — came  on  board.     It  was  soon  ascertained  that 


184  ELEMENTARY    MORAL    LESSONS. 

they  were  going  to  a  neighboring  town,  to  .attend  a  col- 
lege commencement.  The  boy  appeared  to  be  some  eight 
or  nine  years  old,  and  had  evidently  been  reared  with  the 
greatest  tenderness.  He  was  as  pale  as  a  house-plant, 
and,  had  not  one  of  his  eyes  been  somewhat  injured, 
would  have  been  really  beautiful.  A  more  innocent 
looking  little  fellow,  indeed,  could  hardly  be  imagined. 

For  some  time,  he  was  quite  silent,  and  seemingly  ab- 
sorbed in  the  contemplation  of  the  novel  and  enchanting 
country  scenes  that  were  constantly  opening  upon  his 
vision.  But  finally  something,  perhaps  the  appearance  of 
red-breasts  on  some  of  the  neighboring  boughs,  led  him 
to  speak.  "Father,"  said  he,  "do  you  know  what  Jim 
and  I  did  to  the  old  robin  that  built  her  nest  in  our  gar- 
den?" 

The  father  responded,  "I  believe  not,  Phillip;  what 
did  you  do?" 

"Why,"  said  he,  "Jim  crept  up  to  the  bush,  and  put 
his  hat  over  the  nest  when  the  old  bird  was  on  it,  and 
thus  we  caught  her.  We  then  tied  a  string  round  her 
leg,  so  she  could  not  get  away ;  when  we  pulled  out  her 
feathers,  then  maimed  her  wing,  and  so  on  till  we  finished 
her." 

The  whole  was  such  a  tale  of  cruelty  as  1  had  scarcely 
ever  before  heard.  Coming  from  one  so  young,  and 
seemingly  so  innocent,  it  was  doubly  painful.  The  fa- 
ther evidently  did  not  appreciate  it  as  I  did,  for  he  barely 
said,  with  little  seeming  emotion,  "Do  you  think  it  was 
right,  my  son,  to  torture  the  poor  old  bird  in  that  way  ?" 

"O,"  said  he,  with  a  very  significant  nod  of  his  head, 
"we  wanted  some  fun,  and  we  had  it!" 

Here  was  the  beginning  of  a  life  of  cruelty.  This 
boy,  the  son  of  a  man  occupying  a  high  public  station, 
chose  for  his  occupation  the  life  of  a  pirate,  and  ended 


CRUELTY  TO  ANIMALS.  185 

his  career  by  suffering  the  penalty  of  death  for  his  crimes, 
on  the  broad  ocean,  away  from  his  friends  and  his  country. 


QUESTIONS    FOR   ILLUSTRATION. 

1.  What  proofs  can  be  shown  that  animals  ever  feel 
pain'? 

2.  What  evidence  is  there  that  animals  dread  death'? 
—  that  animals  love  their  young'? — that  they  try  to  aid 
each  other  in  distress? 

3.  May  persons  ever  learn  to  love  to  be  kind?  In  what 
manner? 

4.  May  persons  ever  learn  to  love  to  be  cruel?  In 
what  manner? 

5.  Can  a  virtuous  man,  or  a  virtuous  boy,  feel  any 
pleasure  in  causing  pain  to  any  body,  or  to  anything,  un- 
necessarily ? 

6.  Under  what  circumstances  do  you  think  it  right  to 
take  the  life  of  animals? 

7.  Under  what  circumstances  do  you  think  it  wrong  to 
take  the  life  of  animals? 

8.  Is  there  anything  wrong  in  shooting  birds  or  squir- 
rels in  the  woods  and  fields,  just  for  sport? 

9.  If  it  is  right  to  shoot  birds  for  sport,  is  it  not  right 
to  strip  oft'  their  feathers  and  break  their  wings,  as  did 
the  boy  in  the  narrative,  just  for  sport? 

10.  Do  persons  who  treat  animals  with  cruelty,  injure 


18<>  ELEMENTARY    MORAL    LESSONS. 

themselves  in  any  way,  at  the  same  time?     In  what  man- 
ner'? 


NARRATIVE. 

4  Cruelty  to  Birds. — A  friend  of  mine  was  pleased  the 
other  morning,  as  he  passed  down  a  street  in  the  town 
near  which  I  live,  to  observe  an  instance  of  feeling  for 
birds  in  a  poor  woman,  whose  voice  he  heard  very  loudly 
reproving  an  idle  boy,  who  had  just  been  doing  what  we 
have  so  often  seen  reproved.  The  boy  had  been  using 
his  utmost  efforts  to  rake  down  the  nest  of  a  poor  little 
martin  from  under  the  eave  of  a  house,  and  had  just  suc- 
ceeded in  cruelly  destroying  it;  when,  alas!  too  late  to 
save  the  mischief  from  being  done,  his  reprover  ran  out 
of  her  door,  and  used  a  very  excellent  mode  of  bringing 
home  to  his  mind  a  sense  of  the  cruelty  he  had  shown. 
She  was  crying  out  to  him  in  this  manner  when  my 
friend  passed:  "You  little  mischief,  how  would  yon  like 
to  have  your  house  pulled  down  about  your  ears'?"  Very 
miserable,  no  doubt,  that  little  urchin  would  have  been  if 
his  own  home  had  been  destroyed  as  thoroughly  as  the 
nest  of  the  bird  was  by  his  hand;  but  he  never  thought 
of  that;  he  never  remembered  that  the  bird  had  feelings 
as  well  as  he;  he  thought  of  his  own  amusement,  and 
nothing  else.  The  next  thing  would  be  that  he  would 
learn  not  to  care  for  the  feelings  of  another  boy  ;  then  not 
for  the  feelings  of  his  own  mother  and  father,  and  brothers; 
and,  perhaps,  he  might  at  last  learn  to  do  them  all  great 
injuries,  just  for  want  of  thinking  that  they  feel.  Cruelty 
to  animals  leads,  1  am  sure,  very  often  to  cruelty  to  every 
thing.  From  laughing  at  the  cry  of  a  bird,  it  i*  easy  to 
go  on  to  laughing  at  the  cry  of  one's  own  kith  and  kin; 
just  as  the  Roman  people,  in  ancient  times,  after  being 


CRUELTY  TO  ANIMALS.  1B7 

accustomed  to  delight  in  the  dying  roar  and  struggle  of 
wild  beasts  in  their  theatres,  learned  to  take  the  same 
savage  pleasure  in  the  death  of  men  and  women  and 
Christian  martyrs,  tormented  in  the  same  place  by  wild 
beasts  for  their  amusement.  And  they  called  this  a 
"holiday."  There  is  a  wide  difference,  I  own,  between 
this  and  the  schoolboy's  holiday,  when  he  goes  out  rifling 
nests  and  destroying  young  birds;  but  still  there  is  too 
much  of  an  unfeeling  heart  in  the  amusement  which  can 
be  found  in  giving  pain  to  the  least  and  the  lowest  of  ani- 
mals. A  Christian  child  ought  to  be  still  further  from  a 
heathen  crowd  than  in  merely  the  selection  he  makes  of 
the  objects  of  his  cruelty. 


11.  The  Roman  people,  in  ancient  times,  took  delight 
in  seeing  animals  fight  with  each  other.  What  do  you 
see  to  disapprove  in  such  amusements'? 

12.  Have  you  ever  known  any  persons  in  modern  times, 
who  delighted  to  see  dogs,  or  other  animals,  fight  with 
and  destroy  each  other? 

13.  When  persons  have  learned  to  take  delight  in  see- 
ing cruelty,  what  would  you  expect  of  them  respecting 
the  practice  of  cruelty  themselves'? 


NARRATIVE. 


Cruelty  to  Animals  Punished. — Peter  Komming, 
the  son  of  a  wealthy  farmer,  was  a  very  cruel  boy.  He 
took  great  delight  in  torturing  dumb  animals.  I  am 
afraid  to  put  on  paper  the  way  he  treated  flies,  beetles, 
do^s,  and  cats,  while  their  cries  and  groans  were  like 


188  ELEMENTARY    MORAL  LESSONS. 

music  to  his  ears;  it  would  make  your  blood  run  cold. 
The  poor  creatures  could  not  defend  themselves,  they 
could  not  punish  their  oppressor,  there  was  nobody  to 
take  their  part.  Did  I  say  there  was  nobody  to  take 
their  part?  I  did  not  mean  so,  for  God  was  on  their  side. 
He  saw  the  cruelties  practiced  upon  them,  and  he  did  not 
intend  to  let  them  always  go  unpunished. 

Peter  went  on  his  way  till  he  grew  up  to  be  a  man, 
when  he  hired  himself  out  to  a  brewer.  One  day  his  hat 
falling  into  a  vat  of  boiling  hot  beer,  in  trying  to  catch  it 
he  lost  his  balance  and  fell  in;  in  falling,  he  grasped  the 
rim  of  the  vat  with  both  hands,  and  cried  for  help.  He 
was  soon  drawn  out,  but  his  feet  were  dreadfully  scalded 
by  the  hot  beer.  He  roared  in  agony,  and  cursed  and 
swore  in  a  most  dreadful  manner.  After  a  while  he  grew 
more  quiet,  though  his  face  was  the  picture  of  dispair. 
He  asked  to  see  a  minister,  and  one  was  sent  for. 

"0,  Sir,"  he  exclaimed,  "God  is  terribly  punishing  me 
for  my  sins,  especially  for  my  cruelty  to  his  creatures. 
I  have  tortured  many  hundreds,  and  now  in  what  torture 
am  I !  Were  I  a  thief,  I  might  make  amends  for  the  sto- 
len goods;  but  I  can  never  give  life  back  to  the  animals 
which  I  have  murdered,  and  who  had  nothing  but  life  to 
rejoice  in.  How  can  God  be  merciful  to  me,  since  I  have 
been  so  unmerciful'?  His  anger  is  upon  me.  His  justice 
has  overtaken  me ;  wretched  man  that  I  am ! " 

The  doctor  came,  and  said  that  before  half  an  hour 
his  legs  must  be  taken  off,  or  he  would  die.  Did  he  not 
then  think  how  many  limbs  he  had  pulled  off  in  sport? 
He  could  not  help  thinking  of  it.  Peter  could  not  bear 
to  think  of  dying,  so  he  put  his  legs  under  the  sm-geon's 
knife,  and  only  cried  out  against  his  sins  during  the  pain- 
ful operation. 

Dark  and  distressing  days  followed.      The   minister 


SUFFERING  WRONG DOING  WRONG.  189 

came  often  to  see  him,  instructed  him  in  the  gospel  and 
begged  him  to  repent  and  trust  in  Christ  for  mercy.  It 
is  hoped  that  this  poor  man  found  mercy.  God  is  more 
merciful  than  man.  He  gained  hi  s  health  and  lived  many 
years.  On  every  proper  occasion  he  told  his  distressing 
story,  that  the  young  might  take  warning  from  his  awful 
example. 


LESSON  XXVI 


IT  IS  BETTER  TO  SUFFER  WRONG  THAN  TO  DO  WRONG. 


NARRATIVE. 

Not  Ashamed  of  Ridicule. —  I  shah  never  forget  a 
lesson  which  I  received  when  quite  a  young  lad,  at  an 

academy  in   B -.     Among  my   school-fellows    were 

Hartly  and  Jemson.  They  were  somewhat  older  than 
myself,  and  the  latter  1  looked  up  to  as  a  sort  of  leader 
in  matters  of  opinion  as  of  sport-  He  was  not,  at  heart, 
malicious,  but  he  had  a  foolish  ambition  of  being  thought 
witty  and  sarcastic,  and  he  made  himself  feared  by  a  be- 
setting habit  of  turning  things  into  ridicule,  so  that  he 
seemed  continually  looking  out  for  matters  of  derision. 

Hartly  was  a  new  scholar,  and  little  was  known  of 
him  among  the  boys.  One  morning  as  we  were  on  our 
way  to  school,  he  was  seen  driving  a  cow  along  the  road 
toward  a  neighboring  field.  A  group  of  boys,  among 
whom  was  Jemson,  met  him  as  he  was  passing.  The  op- 
portunity was  not  to  be  lost  by  Jemson.  "Halloa!"  he 
exclaimed:  -what's  the  price  of  milk?  1  say,  Jonathan. 
21 


190  elementary  moral  lessons. 

what  do  you  fodder  on?  What  will  you  take  for  all  the 
gold  on  her  horns?  Boys,  if  yon  want  to  see  the  latest 
Paris  style,  look  at  those  boots V' 

Hartly,  waving  his  hand  at  us  with  a  pleasant  smile, 
and  driving  the  eow  to  the  field,  took  down  the  bars  of  a 
rail  fence,  saw  her  safely  in  the  enclosure,  and  then  put- 
ting up  the  bars,  came  and  entered  the  school  with  the 
rest  of  us.  After  school,  in  the  afternoon,  he  let  out  the 
cow,  and  drove  her  off,  none  of  us  knew  where.  And 
every  day,  for  two  or  three  weeks,  lie  went  through  the 
same  task. 

The  boys  of Academy  were  nearly  all  the  sons 

of  wealthy  parents.,  and  some  of  them,  among  whom  was 
Jemson,  were  dunces  enough  to  look  down  with  a  sort  of 
disdain  upon  a  scholar  who  had  to  drive  a  cow.  The 
sneers  and  jeers  of  Jemson  were  accordingly  often  renewed. 
He  once,  on  a  plea  that  he  did  not  like  the  odor  of  the 
barn,  refused  to  sit  next  to  Hartly.  Occasionally  he 
would  inquire  after  the  cow's  health,  pronouncing  the 
word  "ke-ow,"  after  the  manner  of  some  of  the  country 
people. 

With  admirable  good  nature  did  Hartly  bear  all  these 
silly  attempts  to  wound  and  annoy  him.  1  do  not 
remember  that  he  was  even  once  betrayed  into  a  look  or 
word  of  angry  retaliation.  "1  suppose,  Hartly,"  said 
Jemson,  one  day,  "1  suppose  your  lady  means  to  make 
a.  milkman  of  you."  -Why  not  I"  asked  Hartly.  "O, 
nothing;  only  don't  leave  much  water  in  the  eans  after 
you  rinse  them — that's  all!"  The  boys  laughed,  and 
Hartly,  not  in  the  least  mortified,  replied.  "Never  fear; 
it  ever  1  should  rise  to  be  a  milkman.  I'll  give  good 
treasure  and  good  milk." 

The  day  after  this  conversation,  there  was  a  public 
exhibition,  at  which  a   number  of  ladies  and  gentlemen 


SUFFERING  WUONG DOING  WRONG.  193 

from  other  cities  were  present.  Prizes  were  awarded  by 
the  Principal  of  our  Academy,  and  both  Hartly  and 
Jemson  received  a  creditable  number;  for,  in  respect  to 
scholarship,  these  two  were  about  equal.  After  the  cer- 
emony of  distribution,  the  Principal  remarked  that  there 
was  one  prize,  consisting  of  a  medal,  which  was  rarely 
awarded,  not  so  much  on  account  of  its  great  cost,  as 
because  the  instances  were  rare  which  rendered  its 
bestowal  proper.  It  was  the  prize  for  heroism.  The 
last  boy  who  received  one  was  young  Manners,  who, 
three  years  ago,  rescued  the  blind  girl  from  drowning. 

The  Principal  then  said  that,  with  the  permission  of 
the  company,  he  would  relate  a  short  story.  Not  long- 
since,  some  scholars  were  flying  a  kite  in  the  street,  just 
as  a  poor  boy  on  horseback  rode  by  on  his  way  to  mill. 
The  horse  took  fright  and  threw  the  boy,  injuring  him  so 
badly  that  he  was  carried  home,  and  confined  some  weeks 
to  his  bed.  Of  the  scholars  avIio  had  unintentionally 
caused  the  disaster,  none  followed  to  learn  the  fate  of  the 
wounded  boy.  There  was  one  scholar  who  had  witnessed 
the  accident  from  a  distance,  but  stayed  to  render  services. 

This  scholar  soon  learned  that  the  wounded  boy  was 
the  grandson  of  a  poor  widow,  whose  sole  support  con- 
sisted in  selling  the  milk  of  a  fine  cow  of  Avhich  she  was 
the  owner.  Alas!  what  could  she  now  do1?  She  was  old 
and  lame,  and  her  grandson,  on  whom  she  depended  to 
drive  the  cow  to  pasture,  was  now  on  his  back,  helpless. 
"Never  mind,  good  woman,"  said  the  scholar,  "I  can 
drive  your  cow!"  With  blessings  and  thanks,  the  old 
woman  accepted  his  offer. 

But  his  kindness  did  not  stop  here.  Money  was  wanted 
to  get  articles  from  the  apothecary.  "I  have  money  that 
my  mother  sent  me  to  buy  a  pair  of  boots  with ;  but  I 
can  do  without  them  for  a  while."     "O,  no,"  said  the  old 


192  ELEMENTARY  MORAL  LESSONS. 

woman,  "1  can't  consent  to  that;  but  here  is  a  pair  of 
cow-hide  boots  that  I  bought  for  Henry,  who  can't  wear 
them.  If  you  would  only  buy  these,  giving  us  what  they 
cost,  we  should  get,  along  nicely. "  The  scholar  bought 
the  boots,  clumsy  as  they  were,  and  has  worn  them  up 
to  this  time. 

Well,  when  it  was  discovered  by  other  boys  of  the 
Academy  that  our  scholar  was  in  the  habit  of  driving  a 
cow,  he  was  assailed  with  laughter  and  ridicule.  His 
cow-hide  boots,  in  particular,  were  made  matter  of  mirth. 
But  he  kept  on  cheerfully  and  bravely,  day  after  day, 
never  shunning  observation,  and  driving  the  widow's  cow. 
and  wearing  his  thick  boots,  contented  in  the  thought 
that  he  was  doing  right,  caring  not  for  all  the  jeers  and 
sneers  that  could  be  uttered.  He  never  undertook  to 
explain  why  he  drove  a  cow;  for  he  was  not  inclined  to 
make  a  vaunt  of  charitable  motives,  and,  furthermore,  in 
his  heart  he  had  no  sympathy  with  the  false  pride  that 
could  look  with  ridicule  on  any  useful  employment.  It 
was  by  mere  accident  that  his  course  of  kindness  and 
self-denial  was  yesterday  discovered  by  his  teacher. 

And  now,  ladies  and  gentlemen,  1  appeal  to  yon.  Was 
there  not  true  heroism  in  this  boy's  conduct  'I  Nay, 
master  Hartly.  do  not  slink  out  of  sight  behind  the  black 
board!  You  are  not  afraid  of  ridicule,  you  must  not  be 
afraid  of  praise.  ( !on  le  forth,  come  forth,  master  Edward 
James  Hartly,  and  let  us  see  your  honest  lace! 

As  Hartly.  with  blushing  cheeks,  made  his  appearance, 
what  a  round  of  applause,  in  which  tin-  whole  company 
joined,  spoke  the  general  approbation  of  his  conduct! — 
The  ladies  stood  upon  benches  and  waved  their  handker- 
chiefs. The  old  men  wiped  the  gathering  moisture  from 
the  corners  of  their  eyes  and  clapped  their  hands.  Those 
clumsy  boots  on  Hartly's  feet  seemed  prouder  ornaments 


SUFFERINNG  WRUNG — DOING  WRONG.  193 

than  a  crown  would  have  been  on  his  head.     The  medal 
was  bestowed  on  him  amid  general  acclamation. 

Let  me  tell  a  good  thing  of  Jemson  before  I  conclude. 
He  was  heartily  ashamed  of  his  ill-natured  raillery,  and 
after  we  were  dismissed,  he  went  with  tears  in  his  eyes 
and  tendered  his  hand  to  Hartly.  making  a  handsome 
apology  for  his  past  ill-manners.  "Think  no  more  of  it, 
old  fellow,"  said  Hartly.  with  delightful  cordiality;  "let 
ns  all  go  and  have  a  ramble  in  the  wroods  before  we  break 
up  for  vacation.'"  The  boys,  one  and  all,  followed  Jem- 
son's  example ;  and  then  we  set  forth  with  huzzas  into  the 
woods.     What  a  happy  day  it  was! 


QUESTIONS  FOR  ILLUSTRATION. 

1.  Are  persons  ever  abused  for  doing  what  they  think 
is  right  ? 

•2.  How  much  will  it  ever  harm  any  one  to  be  abused 
for  doing  right?     Row  long  will  it  harm  any  one? 

3.  In  what  manner  will  those  who  ridicule,  or  abuse 
others  for  doing  right,  be  the  sufferers?  How  long  will 
such  persons  be  the  sufferers  \ 

4.  Suppose  Hartly,  in  the  preceding  narrative,  had  en- 
dured the  abuse  and  ridicule  of  his  companions,  and  no 
person  had  ever  known  his  benevolent  motives,  or  spoken 
approvingly  of  his  conduct;  was  there  any  danger  that 
Hartly  would  have  been  a  great  sufferer  thereby? 

5.  If  we  always  have  a  good  conscience  for  a  friend. 
whom  shall  we  fear? 

<i  It  was  a  matter  of  exultation  with  Jemson  to  inquire 


11)4  ELEMENTARY'    MORAL  LESSONS. 

"after  the  health  of  Hartly's  cow."     Whose  cause  for  ex- 
ultation was  finally  the  greater? 

7.  Persons  sometimes  seek  to  take  advantage  of  others 
in  making  bargains.  Who  is  the  greater  loser  when  bar- 
gains are  made  unfairly'? 


NARRATIVE. 

A  Bargain's  a  Bargain. — So  it  is;  but  its  a  bad  bar- 
gain for  him  who  bargains  unfairly,  let  him  make  what 
he  will  by  it.  A  man  goes  out  to  buy  a  horse.  He  finds 
one  that  he  likes,  and  that  the  owner  wants  to  sell ;  but 
he  is  determined,  if  possible,  to  get  him  for  less  than  he 
is  worth.  Accordingly  he  sets  himself  to  depreciate  the 
animal,  by  pointing  out  what  he  calls  its  defects  and 
blemishes.  "I  like  your  horse  in  some  respects,  but  he 
is  too  old.  The  man  you  bought  him  of  must  have  de- 
ceived you.  He  called  him  eight  you  say.  He  must 
have  been  nearer  twelve.  See  him,  how  his  teeth  are 
worn  down.  I  can't  afford  to  give  you  any  thing  like 
your  price,  besides,  his  pace  is  slow  and  heavy,  and  he- 
trips,  I  see,  as  if  he  had  been  foundered.  He  is  raw- 
boned,  too,  and  carries  his  head  badly,  and  is  too  hard 
upon  the  bit,  and  1  don't  like  the  color.  If  he  was  a 
bright  bay,  I  would  give  you  a  good  deal  more  for  him." 
Thus  he  cheapens  the  animal  as  much  below  his  real 
worth  as  he  can,  and  when  he  has  got  so  far  away  that  he 
thinks  the  owner  will  not  hear  of  it,  boasts  what  a  good 
bargain  he  has  made.  "1  would  not  sell  the  animal  for 
twice  the  money.  He  is  of  the  right  age  and  just  what 
1  want."  -'But  then  you  must  have  cheated  the  man  you 
bought  him  of."  "O,  no,  a  bargain's  a  bargain."  That 
will  he  a,  hard  backed  horse  for  an  honest  man  to  ride. 


SUFFERING  WRONG DOINC4  WRONG.  H)5 

Another  wants  to  buy  a  house  and  adopts  a  similar 
course  to  get  it  for  less  than  it  is  worth.  "I  don't  like 
the  location,"  he  says,  "  it  is  too  far  from  church.  The 
ground  is  too  low.  It  stands  too  near  the  street.  It  is 
badly  planned;  the  rooms  are  too  small  or  too  large. 
The  hall  is  too  wide,  or  not  wide  enough.  The  kitchen  is 
inconvenient.  There  is  no  china  closet.  It  was  slightly 
built,  and  must  have  a  great  many  repairs,  &c,  &c. 
What  do  you  ask  for  it?"  "Two  thousand  dollars." 
-Two  thousand  dollars!  Then  there  is  no  use  in  saying 
any  more  about  it.  I  can  buy  a  better  place  for  a  great 
deal  less  money."  "Well,  what  will  you  give1?"  "Fif- 
teen hundred;  and  that  is  I  consider  more  than  it  is  worth." 
The  seller  knows  it  is  cheap  at  two  thousand,  and  so  does 
the  buyer.  But  he  cannot  afford  to  keep  it.  He  must 
take  what  he  can  get,  and  the  writings  are  drawn.  Ask 
him  what  he  will  take  for  the  property,  and  his  lowest 
price  is  twenty -five  hundred  dollars.  Now  all  at  once 
the  location  is  good;  the  place  is  convenient;  it  was  well 
built,  and  it  will  cost  but  little  to  put  it  in  first-rate  re- 
pair. It  i«  a  very  good  house.  He  cheated  the  seller 
by  crying  it  down,  and  he  knew  it  at  the  time.  But  "a 
bargain's  a  bargain,"  and  every  one  must  look  out  for 
himself. 

So  true  is  the  saying  of  the  wise  man,  "It  is  nought,  it 
is  nought,  saith  the  buyer,  but  when  he  is  gone  his  way. 
then  heboasteth." 


8.  If  a  person  should,  knowingly,  sell  you  a  horse  for 
twenty-five  dollars  more  than  he  was  worth,  which  would 
be  the  greater  sufferer,  yourself  or  the  person  who  should 
sell  you  the  horse? 

9.  In  what  way  would  you  be  the  sufferer?     Iu  what 


196  ELEMENTARY    MORAL    LESSONS. 

way  would  the  seller  of  the  horse,  be  the  sufferer  1     Whose 
sufferings  would  last  the  longer? 

10.  If  others  injure  your  feelings  or  your  reputation, 
by  saying  to  you,  or  about  you,  what  is  not  true,  in  what 
way  will  you  be  the  sufferer? — in  what  way  the  slanderer 
the  sufferer? 


LESSON  XXVII 


IT  IS  MOKE  BLESSED  TO  GIVE  THAN  TO  RECEIVE. 


NARRATIVE. 

Benevolence  its  own  Reward. — Our  readers  know 
that  on  the  evening  of  July  13th,  1846,  a  fire  broke  out 
in  the  town  of  Nantucket,  which  is  on  the  beautiful  Island 
of  Nantucket  outside  of  our  harbor,  by  which  hundreds 
of  thousands  of  dollars  worth  of  property  were  destroyed, 
and  hundred  of  families  reduced  at  once  to  penury. 

The  sympathies  of  the  kind  people  of  Boston  were  im- 
mediately enlisted  in  behalf  of  the  sufferers.  A  public 
meeting  was  called,  and  the  proper  measures  were  taken 
to  appeal  individually,  and  from  house  to  house,  for  aid. 
One  of  the  committee  who  is  actively  engaged  in  making 
collections,  told  nie  yesterday  a  delightful  little  anecdote. 
which  I  cannot  withhold  from  my  readers.  lie  said,  he 
went  into  a  blacksmith's  shop,  where  be  scarcely  expected 
to  gel  anything,  as  matters  looked  unpromising.  Several 
men  were  at  work,  and  lie  made  known  his  errand.     The\ 


BENEVOLENCE.  19? 

all  held  down  their  heads  and  continued  afc  their  Work, 
and  no  one  replied.  At  length  he  inquired  of  them  which 
was  the  principal,  and  they  pointed  out  to  him  one  of 
their  number,  a  hard-featured,  elderly  looking  man,  and 
to  him  the  gentleman  made  a  direct  appeal.  "Well," 
said  the  blacksmith,  putting  down  on  end  his  ponderous 
sledge-hammer,  "well,  1  am  a  poor  man  and  can't  do 
much,  but  here's  a  dollar."  My  friend  thankfully  took 
the  dollar,  expressed  his  acknowledgement  for  the  chari- 
ty, and  went  on.  Some  hours  after,  having  finished  his 
round,  in  returning  he  passed  by  the  same  shop,  and  when 
opposite  to  it,  was  met  with  a  warm  grasp  of  the  hand 
from  the  good  blacksmith  who  had  run  out  to  meet  him: 
"Sir!  I  thank  you  for  calling  on  me  this  morning,  and 
giving  me  an  opportunity  to  do  something  for  those  who 
are  worse  off  than  myself.  Before  you  come  in  I  was 
thinking  of  my  troubles,  and  was  low-spirited  and  unhap- 
py all  the  morning;  but  since  you  gave  me  the  opportu- 
nity of  helping  others  a  little,  I  have  been  cheerful  and 
contented.  You  have  taken  a  load  off  my  heart,  and  1 
thank  you  for  it  a  thousand  times."  Dear  readers,  is  not 
benevolence  (springing  from  right  motives)  its  own  ex- 
ceeding reward?     Go!  all  of  you,  and  do  likewise. 


QUESTIONS  FOR  ILLUSTRATION* 

1.  Perhaps  the  blacksmith,  spoken  of  in  the  preceding 
narrative,  earned  three  dollars  during  the  day  on  which 
he  gave  away  one  to  help  the  needy.  If  so,  which  prob- 
ably gave  him  the  greater  pleasure,  to  get  three  dollars, 
or  give  away  one.  as  he  did? 

2.  Wliy  did  it  make  the  blacksmith  feel  so  cheerful, 
after  giving  his  dollar? 


198  ELEMENTARY    MORAL    LESSONS. 

3.  If  it  made  the  blacksmith  feel  so  happy  and  content- 
ed to  help  others  a  little,  would  it  probably  make  others 
feel  so  to  do  the  same? 

4.  But  if  we  have  very  little  to  give,  will  it  be  well  to 
try  to  give  anything? 

5.  Perhaps  many  rich  men  of  Boston  and  vicinity,  gave 
fifty  dollars  each  to  aid  the  Nantucket  sufferers.  If  so, 
which  do  you  think  was  probably  the  happier,  the  black- 
smith who  gave  the  dollar,  or  the  rich  man  who  gave  fifty  ? 

6.  Which  was  probably  the  happier,  the  person  in 
Nantucket  who  might  happen  to  receive  the  blacksmith's 
dollar,  or  the  blacksmith  who  gave  it? 

7.  Have  you  ever  made  presents  to  your  friends? 
Have  you  ever  received  gifts  from  your  friends  or  from 
others?     Jn  which  case  were  you  the  happier? 

8.  If  you  could  have  your  choice,  which  would  you 
prefer,  the  highest  public  station  in  the  State,  or  the  means 
to  give  to  every  one  that  was  needy  just  as  much  as  yov 
pleased? 

0.  Wliy  are  not  all  persons  more  ready  to  give  to  each 
other  and  to  those  who  need,  if  it  is  a  source  of  so  much 
happiness  to  give? 


NARRATIVE. 

The  Knife-Grinder. — The  grinders  of  Paris,  though 
not  extinct,  have  considerably  diminished  in  number. 
They  have  been  driven  to  adopt  some  other  occupation, 
in  consequence  of  flu-  cutlers  appointing  each  a  certain 
day  in  the  week  for  grinding — notifying  the  same  by  a 


BENEVOLENCE.  .  199 

placard  in  their  shop-windows.  Any  of  my  readers  who 
search  the  municipal  archives  of  Paris,  will  find  a  little 
history  concerning  one  of  them  who  had  driven  his  grind- 
stone through  the  streets  and  suburbs  of  the  city  for  more 
than  fifteen  years;  which  I  see  no  reason  why  1  should 
not  re-produce  here.     It  runs  to  the  following  effect: 

Antonie  Benafoux  was  a  grinder,  living  frugally  upon 
the  produce  of  his  precarious  industry.  Upon  the  same 
lofty  floor  of  the  house  in  which  he  lodged,  dwelt  a  poor 
widow  of  the  name  of  Drouillant  who  had  once  seen  bet- 
ter days.  The  death  of  her  husband  had  deprived  her  of 
her  resources,  and  driven  her  to  a  garret,  where,  with  an 
only  child — a  boy  too  young  to  labor — she  worked  early 
and  late  at  her  needle  for  the  means  of  subsistence.  Bon- 
afoux,  whose  instinct  had  led  him  to  comprehend  and 
sympathize  with  her  misfortunes,  if  he  passed  her  on  the 
stairs,  would  manifest  his  respect  by  a  low  bow,  and  his 
sympathy  by  a  courteous  inquiry  after  her  little  boy; 
though  he  sought  no  further  acquaintance.  But  the  wid- 
ow grew  too  feeble  to  work,  and  seeing  her  suffering  from 
want,  he  called  on  her  one  morning  and  insisted  on  her 
borrowing  a  portion  of  his  savings,  alleging  that  he  had  a 
sum  in  the  bank,  and  that  he  could  well  spare  it.  The 
brave  fellow  knew  well  enough  that  he  was  depositing  his 
earnings  in  a  sinking-fund;  but  it  was  not  for  him  to 
stand  by  a  poor  lady  and  a  mother  pining  for  assistance 
which  he  could  render.  So  she  became  his  pensioner, 
with  the  understanding  that  she  was  to  repay  him  when 
she  could.  Suddenly  during  the  absence  of  the  grinder, 
a  stroke  of  apoplexy  prostrated  the  poor  widow.  The 
whole  house  was  in  alarm;  the  doctor  was  sent  for,  and 
as  soon  as  he  had  administered  to  her  present  wants,  ar- 
rangements were  made  for  carrying  her  to  the  hospital — 
that  anti-chamber  of  the  tomb  of  the  unfortunate  poor  of 


200  ELEMENTARY    MORAL    LESSONS. 

Paris.  At  this  moment  Bonafoux  came  in.  -'Stop,''  said 
he,  "that  lady  must  not  go  to  the  hospital;  I  know  her 
better  than  you  do;  it  would  kill  her  to  take  her  there. 
Doctor,  attend  her  here,  and  do  your  utmost;  I  will  de- 
fray your  charges."  The  poor  lady  recovered  slowly 
under  the  nursing  which  the  grinder  procured  her,  hut 
she  was  never  ahle  to  resume  her  needle-work.  Bona- 
foux supplied  all  her  wants.  When  the  boy  grew  old 
enough,  he  apprenticed  him  to  a  stove-maker,  and  cut  up 
his  own  garments  to  provide  him  with  an  outfit.  A  sec- 
ond attack  of  apoplexy  deprived  the  poor  mother  of  the 
use  of  her  limbs. 

The  grinder  continued  his  benefactions  to  the  last  hour 
of  her  life — nor  relaxing  his  guardianship  of  her  son  until 
he  was  able  to  earn  his  own  maintenance.  It  was  for 
this  act  of  truly  Christian  charity,  extending  over  a  long 
period,  that  the  French  Academy,  in  1821,  awarded  to 
Antonie  Bonafoux  a  gold  medal  and  a  prize  of  400f.  The 
historian  who  records  the  deed,  declares  that  the  grinder 
was  worthy  of  the  honor,  and  in  addition  to  that,  the  es- 
teem of  all  good  men;  a  judgment  in  which  the  reader 
will  probably  concur* 

QUESTIONS  FOR  ILLUSTRATION. 

10.  Which  person  enjoys  the  greater  happiness,  the 
one  who  gives  without  making  any  sacrifice  himself,  or 
the  one  who  gives  what  he  very  much  needs  himself? 

11.  What  do  you  discover  in  the  character  of  the  knife- 
grinder  that  you  approve? 

12.  Though  Bonafoux  was  awarded  aprizeby  the  French 
Academy  for  his  benevolence,  did  he  give  for  that  motive? 
What  appeared  to  be  his  motive  in  helping  the  poor  wid- 
ow and  her  son? 


BENEVOLENCE.  201 

13.  Do  you  think  it  is  safe  for  people  who  are  not  very 
rich,  to  give  liberally? 


NARRATIVE. 

The  Power  of  Love. — The  dungeon  and  the  scourge 
were  formerly  considered  the  only  effectual  way  of  re. 
straining  maniacs,  but  experience  has  proved  that  love  is 
the  best  controlling  power.  When  Pinel,  the  humane 
French  physician,  proposed  to  try  this  experiment  in  the 
Bedlam  at  Bicetre,  many  supposed  that  his  life  would  fall 
a  sacrifice.  But  he  walked  fearlessly  into  dungeons  where 
raving  maniacs  had  been  chained,  some  ten  years,  some 
forty  years;  and  with  gentle  words,  he  convinced  them 
that  they  were  free  to  go  out  into  the  sunshine  and  open 
air.  if  they  would  allow  him  to  remove  their  chains  and 
put  on  their  straight  waistcoats.  At  first  they  did  not 
believe  it,  because  they  had  been  so  often  deceived. 
When  they  found  it  true,  nothing  could  equal  their  grati- 
tude and  joy.  They  obeyed  their  deliverer  with  the  ut- 
most docility,  and  finally  became  very  valuable  assistants 
in  the  management  of  the  establishment. 

Dorothea  L.  Dix,  our  American  Mrs.  Fry,  the  God- 
appointed  missionary  to  prisons  and  alms-houses,  said 
that  experience  had  more  than  confirmed  her  faith  in  the 
power  of  kindness  over  the  insane  and  vicious. 

Among  the  hundreds  of  crazy  people,  with  whom  her 
sacred  mission  has  brought  her  into  companionship,  she 
has  not  found  one  individual,  however  fierce  and  turbulent 
that  could  not  be  calmed  by  Scripture  and  prayer,  uttered 
in  low  and  gentle  tones.  The  power  of  religious  senti- 
ment over  these  shattered  souls,  seems  perfectly  miracti- . 
lous.     The  worship  of  a  quiet,  loving  heart,  affects  them 


202  ELEMENTARY    MQRAL  LESSONS. 

like  a  voice  from  Heaven.  Tearing  and  rending,  yelling 
and  stamping,  singing  and  groaning,  gradually  subside 
into  silence,  and  they  fall  upon  their  knees,  or  gaze  up- 
ward with  clasped  hands,  as  if  they  saw  through  the 
opening  darkness  a  golden  gleam  from  their  Father's 
throne  of  love. 

On  one  occasion,  this  missionary  of  mercy  was  very 
earnestly  cautioned  not  to  approach  a  raving  maniac. 
He  yelled  frightfully,  clay  and  night,  rent  his  garments, 
plucked  out  his  hair,  and  was  so  violent,  that  it  was  sup- 
posed he  would  murder  any  one  who  ventured  within  his 
reach.  Miss  Dix  seated  herself  at  a  little  distance,  and 
without  appearing  to  notice  him,  began  to  read,  with  se- 
rene countenance  and  gentle  voice,  certain  passages  of 
scripture  filled  with  the  spirit  of  tenderness.  His  shouts 
gradually  subsided,  until  at  last  he  became  perfectly  still. 
When  she  paused,  he  said  meekly, "  Read  me  some  more, 
it  does  me  good."  And  when,  after  a  prolonged  season 
of  worship,  she  said,  "  I  must  go  away  now,"  lie  eagerly 
replied,  "No,  you  cannot  go.  God  sent  you  to  me  and 
you  must  not  go."  By  kind  words,  and  a  promise  to 
come  again,  she  finally  obtained  permission  to  depart. 
''Give  me  your  hand,"  said  he.  She  gave  it,  and  smiled 
upon  him.  The  wild  expression  of  his  haggard  counte- 
nance softened  to  tearfulness,  as  he  said,  "  You  treat  me 
right,  God  sent  you." 

On  another  occasion  she  had  been  leading  some  twenty 
or  thirty  maniacs  into  worship,  and  seeing  them  all  quiet 
as  lambs  gathered  into  the  Shepherd's  fold,  prepared  to  go 
forth  to  other  duties.  In  leaving  the  room,  she  passed 
an  insane  young  man,  with  whom  she  had  had  several  in- 
terviews. He  stood  with  hands  clasped,  ami  a  counte- 
nance of  the  deepest  reverence.  With  a  friendly  smUe 
she  said,  "Henry,  are  you   well,  to-day?"     "Hush!  — 


PURITY  OP   THOUGHT.  203 

hush!"  replied  he,  sinking  his  voice  to  a  whisper,  and  gaz- 
ing earnestly  on  the  space  around  her,  "hush!— there  are 
angels  with  you!     They  have  given  you  their  voice." 


14.  What  other  methods  of  giving  to  others  are  there, 
besides  giving  money'? 

15.-  Could  any  person  and  every  person  do  as  the 
French  physician,  Pinel,  did  in  controlling  raving  man- 
iacs'? 

16.  Why  did  the  maniacs  in  the  mad-house  at  Bicetre, 
obey  Pinel  when  others  could  not  control  them.  % 

17.  Which  would  afford  you  the  purer  pleasure,  to 
make  such  unfortunate  persons  happy,  or  from  your 
abundance,  to  give  money  to  the  poor 


■  o 


18.  What  higher  office  is  there  in  the  world  than  that 
of  making  the  unfortunate  happy? 


LESSON  XXVIII 


THINK  NO  THOUGHTS  THAT  YOU  WOULD  BLUSH  TO  EX- 
PEESS  IN  WORDS. 


EXTRACT. 

A  Bad  Taint. — "What  you  learn  from  bad  habits 
and  in  bad  society,"  says  Mr.  Gough,  "you  will  never 
forget,  and  it  will  be  a  lasting  pang  to  you.     I  tell  \o\\ 


204  ELEMENTARY    MORAL    LESSONS. 

in  all  sincerity,  and  not  as  in  the  excitement  of  a  speech, 
but  as  I  would  confess,  and  have  confessed  before  God,  I 
would  give  my  right  hand  to-night  if  I  could  forget  that 
which  .1  have  learned  in  evil  society — if  I  could  tear  from 
my  memory  the  scenes  which  I  have  witnessed,  and  the 
transactions  which  have  taken  place  before  me.  You 
cannot  take  away  the  effect  of  a  single  impure  thought  that 
has  lodged  and  harbored  in  the  heart.  You  may  pray 
against  it,  and,  by  God's  grace,  conquer  it ;  but  it  will  al- 
ways be  a  thorn  in  the  flesh  to  you,  and  will  cause  yon 
bitterness  and  anguish*' 


QUESTIONS  FOR  ILLUSTRATION. 

1.  If  a  person  should  never  indulge  in  wrong  thoughts, 
what  would  you  expect  to  see  wrong  in  his  actions'? 

2.  Which  come  first  in  order,  bad  thoughts,  or  bad 
deeds  ? 

3.  If  wrong  or  improper  thoughts  come  into  your 
mind,  can  you,  at  once,  give  your  attention  to  something 
else,  if  you  try? 

4.  If  you  read  an  interesting  story,  can  you  give  your 
whole  attention  to  the  narrative  while  reading  it? 

5.  If  yon  are  called  upon  to  attend  to  some  other  duty 
or  business  when  busily  engaged  in  reading,  can  you  stop 
thinking  of  your  reading  and  attend  to  the  duty  or 
business1* 

6.  Can  you  stop  thinking  of  your  amusements  and  at- 
tend to  your  lessons,  whvnyou  try  to  do  so? 

7.  Can  you.  al  any  time  think  of  particular  persona  or 


PURITY  OF  THOUGHT,  205 

places,  or  subjects,  when  you  are  very  anxious  to  do  so? 

8.  Can  you  stop  thinking  upon  one  subject  and  think 
of  another  if  you  try  to  do  so? 

9.  What  harm  is  there   in    thinking  upon  forbidden 
things,  if  you  do  not  really  intend  to  do  anything  wron^? 


EXTRACT. 

u1t  Costs  Too  Much.,: — That  little  theft  costs  too 
much.  It  is  only  a  shilling.  I  know;  and  perhaps  it  would 
never  be  missed:  but  it  will  cost  you  as  much  as  a  for- 
tune is  worth.  "I  did  not  take  the  shilling,"  you  say.  I 
am  glad  of  it.  But  I  am  afraid  you  will  take  it,  never- 
theless. You  have  been  looking  at  it,  with  a  wishful  eye, 
for  some  minutes.  You  have  been  trying  to  settle  the 
question  whether  you  would  be  found  out  or  not,  if  you 
put  the  money  into  your  pocket.  You  have  been  using 
all  sorts  of  flimsy  arguments  to  your  conscience,  to  drown 
its  voice,  You  said  it  was  only  a  shilling,  and  nobody 
would  be  any  worse  for.  your  taking  so  small  a  sum. 
You  talked  about  your  salary  being  so  small,  and  your 
master  being  so  rich;  and  you  thought  you  would  refund 
the  money,  interest  and  all,  when  you  got  to  be  rich 
yourself.  I  know  you  did  not  take  the  money.  But 
while  you  were  gazing  into  that  draw,  and  thinking  what 
you  should  do  about  that  shilling,  you  were  standing  on 
a  fearful  precipice.  Many  a  youth  has  yielded  to  the 
tempter,  as  you  were  on  the  point  of  yielding,  and  thus 
entered  on  a  career  of  crime  which  proved  his  ruin.  It 
was  a  little,  petty  theft,  that  first  one;  but  it  cost  him 
dearly.  It  will  cost  you  dearly,  my  friend.  It  may  cost 
you  everything  worth  living  for. 


8§8  ELSMEHTAEY  MOEAL  IBSBOKB. 

If,  then,  you  really  do  not  mean  to  steal,  stop  thinking 
about  it.  Your  conscience  has  once  faithfully  and  sol- 
emnly told  you  thati£  is  wrong  to  steal.  Therefore,  put 
away  from  your  thoughts,  instantly,  every  idea  of  the 
possibility  of  doing  what  you  know  to  be  wrong. 


10.  To  what  will  dwelling  in  our  minds  upon  forbidden 
acts,  lead  us? 

11.  But  if,  after  thinking  long  and  favorably  upon 
stealing,  or  lying,  or  revenge,  or  vulgarity,  we  should 
still  never  do  any  of  these  wrong  acts,  in  what  way  should 
we  be  injured? 

12.  Where  do  all  things  that  make  persons  criminal, 
degraded  and  brutish,  originate,  in  the  thoughts,  or  in  the 
conduct? 


extract. 

A  Neglected  Scratch. — An  Indiana  clergyman  lately 
told  a  story  about  a  man  with  whom  he  boarded  when  a 
college  boy.  The  man  was  at  his  work  one  frosty  mor- 
ning, and  happened  to  get  a  slight  scratch  on  the  back  of 
his  hand.  A  single  minute's  attention  to  it  would  have 
caused  it  to  heal  in  a  day  or  two.  It  was  neglected.  A 
slight  inflamation  appeared,  which  a  simple  poultice  would 
have  reduced,  but  it  was  neglected.  The  whole  hand 
became  inflamed,  and  should  have  had  the  best  medical 
attention,  but  it  was  neglected.  The  arm  and  shoulder 
;ind  back  were  seized  with  pain,  and  now  all  was  alarm 
and  confusion.  Twelve  physicians  were  in  attendance  to 
consult  upon  the  case.     The  question  was,  whether  cut 


PURITY  OF  THOUGHT.  20? 

ting  off  the  limb  would  save  the  man's  life,  and  it  was 
decided  to  be  too  late!  The  disease  had  gained  a  mortal 
hold,  and  no  human  skill  could  arrest  it.  A  vicious  habit 
an  indulged  little  sin— a  neglected  duty— how  easily  they 
are  taken  care  of,  if  we  are  in  season  with  them,  but  how 
stubborn  and  ruinous  they  become,  if  they  are  let  alone. 
And  the  time  to  commence  with  all  those  habits  and  in- 
dulgencies  which  degrade  either  children  or  men,  is  to 
banish  everything  that  is  wrong,  at  once,  and  forever 

FROM  THE  THOUGHTS. 

13.  In  the  foregoing  extract,  it  was  said  to  be  impossi- 
ble to  cure  the  body  that  was  first  injured  by  a  little 
scratch.  Can  a  mind  and  heart  that  has  become  tainted 
by  a  little  impurity  be  easily  cured? 

14.  Which  would  you  think  the  more  to  be  dreaded, 
a  countenance  covered  with  scars,  and  blemishes,  caused 
by  accident,  or  a  mind  and  heart  that  has  been  scarred 
and  deformed  by  indulgence  and  neglect'? 


EXTRACT. 

Guard  against  Vulgarity. — We  especially  commend 
the  following  extract  to  the  thoughtful  study  of  the  young. 
Nothing  is  so  repugnant  and  disgusting  to  the  feelings  of 
the  noble  and  the  good,  as  to  hear  the  young,  (or  even  the 
old)  use  profane,  or  low,  vulgar  language.  The  young  of 
our  cities  are  particularly  guilty  of  profanity.  In  our 
day  the  "boy"  does  not  feel  himself  a  "man"  unless  he 
can  excel  in  the  use  of  low  language : 

"We  would  guard  the  young  against  the  use  of  every 
word  that  is  not  perfectly  proper.     Use  no  profane  ex- 


208  ELEMENTARY    MORAL    LESSONS. 

pressions — allude  to  no  sentences  that  will  put  to  blush 
the  most  sensitive.  You  know  not  the  tendency  of  ha- 
bitually using  indecent  and  profane  language.  It  may 
never  be  obliterated  from  your  heart.  When  you  grow 
up,  you  will  find  at  your  tongue's  end  some  expression 
which  you  would  not  use  for  any  money.  It  was  one 
learned  when  you  was  quite  young.  By  being  careful, 
you  will  save  yourself  a  great  deal  of  mortification  and 
sorrow.  Good  men  have  been  taken  sick,  and  become 
delirious.  In  these  moments  they  have  used  the  most 
vile  and  indecent  language  imaginable.  When  informed 
of  it,  after  restoration  to  health,  they  had  do  idea  of 
the  pain  they  had  given  their  friends,  and  stated  that 
they  had  learned  and  repeated  the  expressions  in  child- 
hood, and  though  years  had  passed  since  they  had  spoken 
a  bad  word,  they  had  been  indelibly  stamped  upon  the 
heart.  Think  of  this,  ye  who  are  tempted  to  use  improp- 
er language,  and  never  disgrace  yourselves.'" 


15.  Is  there  any  danger  that  persons  who  never  think 
improper  thoughts,  will  ever  use  improper  words,  either 
in  sickness  or  health? 


EXTRACT. 

The  Pure  in  Heart. — A  gentleman,  in  one  of  his 
visits  among  the  poor,  met  with  one  of  his  scholars,  a  lit- 
tle girl  not  six  years  old,  who  had  just  begun  to  read  the 
New  Testament.  This  child,  being  fond  of  singing,  was 
anxious  to  possess  one  of  the  school  hymn-books,  which 
the  gentleman  kindly  promised  to  give  her,  on  condition 
that  she  would  learn  to  read  the  fifth  and  sixth  chapters  of 


LIVE  INNOCENTLY.  209 

St.  Mathew's  Gospel  within  the  space  of  a  fortnight.  The 
little  girl  immediately  undertook  this  task,  and  having 
brought  her  two  diapers  to  the  gentleman,  began  to 
read;  but  when  she  finished  the  first  twelve  verses,  he 
caused  her  to  stop  in  order  to  inquire  of  her  which  of 
the  qualities  described  in  the  beatitudes  she  would  desire 
most  to  possess.  She  paused  a  little  while,  and  then  re- 
plied, with  a  modest  smile,  "Ivwould  rather  be  pure  in 
heart." 

The  gentleman  asked  her  wherefore  she  should  choose 
this  blessed  quality  above  all  the  rest.  In  reply  to  which 
she  answered  to  this  purpose:  "Sir,  if  I  had  a  pure  heart, 
1  should  then  possess  all  the  other  qualities  spoken  of  in 
this  chapter. 


LESSON  XXIX 


LIVE  INNOCENTLY,   IF  YOU  WOULD  LIVE  HAPPILY 


NARRATIVE, 


The  Hard  Snow  Ball. — When  1  was  about  ten  years 
old,  and  my  brother  eight,  we  were  returning  from  school 
the  snow  was  melting  under  a  warm  March  sun,  and  I 
felt  an  irrepressible  desire  to  enter  the  list  with  some  one 
for  snow-balling.  We  were  away  from  our  schoolmates: 
and  making  a  very  hard  ball.  I  threw  it  with  all  my  might 
at  my  brother.  It  struck  him  with  great  violence  in  the 
side,  and  to  this  moment  I  seem  to  see  him  writhing  from 
the  pain  it  gave  him,  and  hear  the  bitter  cry  occasioned 


210  ELEMENTARY    MORAL  LESSONS. 

by  my  cruel  deed.  In  my  sport  I  had  sadly  hurt  that 
dear  brother,  whom  I  ought  to  have  loved  and  protected. 
A  passing  traveler  frowned  upon  me  for  my  cruelty,  and 
I  knew  that  the  piercing  eye  of  God  was  upon  me.  That 
dear  brother  made  no  complaint  of  me  to  our  parents ; 
and  neither  to  them  nor  to  my  Heavenly  Father  would 
my  proud  heart  allow  me  to  make  confession.  Why  did 
I  not  do  it?  I  knew  I  had  clone  wrong ;  why  not  confess 
my  fault  to  God,  and  receive  the  peace  and  joy  of  for- 
given sin1? 

When  another  winter  came,  my  little  brother  could 
not  join  me  in  our  accustomed  sports,  he  had  such  a 
weakness  in  his  back.  As  the  flowers  of  May  appeared, 
he  grew  more  pallid;  he  languished  through  the  summer 
and  autumn;  and  in  the  darkness  of  a  December  night 
we  were  summoned  to  see  him  die.  A  father's  ear  caught 
the  last  faint  whisper  from  his  lips,  "Tell  my  brothers 
that  they  must  pray.?' 

Now  I  wear  the  silver  hair  of  age;  but  as  often  as  I 
visit  the  mound  of  my  little  brother's  grave,  this  heart 
yearns  with  tenderest  grief,  my  tears  unbidden  flow,  in 
sad  remembrance  of  that  one  unkind,  unfeeling  act  that 
caused  his  cry  of  distress,  and  that  may  have  been  the 
means  of  his  early  death. 


QUESTIONS    FUR    ILLUSTRATION. 

1.  Why  did  the  man,  in  the  last  narrative,  feel  sorrow- 
ful through  his  life-time  when  he  thought  of  his  younger 
brother? 

%  If  he  had  been  entirely  free  from  blame  in  throwing 
the  snow-ball  at  his  brother,  might  his  whole  life  been  a 


happier  one1? 


LIVE  INNOCENTLY.  21 1 

3.  Persons  sometimes  live  a  life  of  labor  and  toil,  and 
surrounded  with  few  luxuries.  Ts  it  possible  for  such 
persons  to  live  happily1? 

4.  Persons  sometimes  suffer  from  poverty  and  pain 
and  other  afflictions,  and  sometimes  from  a  consciousness 
of  guilt.     Which  is  the  harder  to  endure  ? 


narrative. 

The  Horrors  of  a  Guilty  Conscience  who  can  bear1? 
— When  I  was  a  child  I  was  invited  to  spend  an  evening 
with  a  companion  of  mine  who  lived  about  a  quarter  of 
a  mile  from  my  father's  house.  It  was  autumn.  The 
leaves  had  fallen  from  the  trees.  The  birds  had  departed. 
The  cold  winds  had  begun  to  blow,  and  the  ground  was 
whitened  with  frost. 

My  mother  gave  her  consent,  but  little  did  she  think 
of  the  temptation  to  which  her  child  would  be  exposed. 
I  went,  and  found  I  was  to  pass  the  evening  with  other 
children  of  the  village.  There  were  gathered  the  wealthy 
and  the  poor,  but  I  was  poorest  of  them  all.  I  was 
clothed  in  my  best  attire,  but  it  was  thin  and  scanty  for 
the  season.  I  looked  upon  my  companions,  they  were 
well  and  comfortably  dressed.  I  told  my  sorrows  to  no 
one,  but  grieved  at  my  lot,  until  envy,  cruel  envy,  arose 
in  my  bosom  and  destroyed  all  my  peace.  It  was  soon 
proposed  by  one  of  the  company  that  we  should  play 
blindman's  buff,  and  by  another  that  we  should  take  off 
our  shoes  to  prevent  the  noise  it  would  occasion.  All 
but  myself  commenced  doing  this,  and  run  to  put  them 
together  in  one  corner  of  the  room.  I  had  none  to  take 
off.  I  had  none  to  wear.  Indeed,  I  expected  to  go  to 
school  many  days  with  cold  feet,  and  when  the  snow 


212  ELEMENTARY    MORAL    LESSONS. 

came,  to  stay  at  home,  which  to  me  would  he  a  greater 
grief  than  the  former.  The  play  was  soon  ended,  and  as 
the  evening  was  very  fine,  it  was  proposed  to  walk  in  the 
garden.  Every  one  ran  for  their  shoes.  I  had  thought 
too  long  and  too  deeply  about  them.  I  ran  with  the 
group  and  selected  a  pair  belonging  to  a  boy  of  about 
my  own  age  and  size,  and  was  among  the  first  that  en- 
tered the  garden,  leaving  the  boy  making  many  inquiries 
for  Ins  shoes. 

When  we  returned,  I  did  not  take  them  into  the  house 
with  me,  but  placed  them  where  I  could  conveniently 
take  them  when  we  went  home,  for  I  had  determined 
upon  keeping  them.  It  was  my  first  attempt  to  take  that 
which  did  not  belong  to  me.  The  sports  of  the  evening 
were  soon  ended,  and  we  prepared  to  return  to  our  homes. 
I  made  great  haste,  and  bidding  the  company  good  night, 
was  the  first  to  leave  the  house.  Glad  should  I  have 
been  if  the  darkness  of  the  night  had  surrounded  me,  but 
to  me  it  appeared  that  the  moon  never  shown  with  more 
brilliancy,  or  the  stars  shed  more  lustre.  Notwithstand- 
ing this,  I  seized  the  shoes  and  hurried  home.  Conscience 
however  had  not  ceased  to  upbraid  me  since  the  first  mo- 
ments of  my  wrong,  and  as  I  walked  home  it  was  my 
only  companion. 

At  length  I  arrived  at  the  door,  but  was  afraid  to  go  in. 
1  dreaded  to  meet  my  parents,  for  I  felt  that  they  knew 
all  that  I  had  done,  and  they  had  taught  me  the  command, 
"Thou  shalt  not  steal."  I  hid  the  shoes,  and  summoned 
courage  to  go  in.  How  awful  it  is  to  fear  to  meet  our 
dearest  friends.  Their  kindness  seemed  reproof,  and  their 
smiles  at  that  time  worse  than  frowns. 

It  being  late,  I  soon  retired  with  my  brothers  and  sis- 
ters to  our  chamber,  but  1  retired  not  to  sleep.  Very 
soon  all  around  me  was  silent;  nothing  was  heard  but  the 


LIVE  INNOCENTLY.  2Vl 

breath  of  innocency  sleeping  by  my  side.  But  oh.  the 
wretched  condition  of  my  mind.  I  felt  I  had  justly  de- 
served the  displeasure  of  my  parents,  for  I  had  disobeyed 
their  commands,  and  if  I  had  disobeyed,  theirs,  how  much 
more  had  I  disobeyed  God's.  Ever  before  I  had  consid- 
ered him  as  a  lovely  being,  but  now  I  felt  I  had  provoked 
his  anger.  He  had  fixed  the  bounds  of  my  habitation. 
hut  T  wished  to  be  the  disposer  of  my  own  fortune.  1 
knew  he  had  witnessed  the  whole  transaction,  and  that 
his  All-seeing  eye  was  every  moment  upon  me.  Had  it 
been  possible,  how  gladly  would  I  have  hid  myself  from 
him.  I  reflected  upon  my  crime  until  it  appeared  so 
great,  that  every  moment  I  expected  the  anger  of  the 
Lord  would  burst  upon  me.  My  head  Avas  pained,  my 
limbs  trembled. 

At  length  I  resolved  to  arise  and  go,  even  at  midnight, 
and  return  the  shoes  to  the  house  from  which  I  had  taken 
them.  1  was  about  J  caving  my  room,  when  I  looked  up- 
on the  countenances  of  those  who  were  free  from  the 
enormous  crime  of  which  I  was  guilty,  and  consequently 
were  sleeping  sweetly,  and  knew  nothing  of  my  sorrows. 
Gladly  would  I  have  awakened  one  to  accompany  me; 
but  no,  I  must  go  alone.  1  passed  easily  down  the  stairs, 
and  again  found  myself  encompassed  with  difficulty.  J 
could  not  go  out  without  passing  through  my  mother's 
room,  and  if  I  awoke  her.  she  would  be  solicitous  to  know 
the  reason  of  my  leaving  my  chamber.  But  I  was  de- 
termined I  would  go,  and  if  she  awoke  ]  would  tell  her 
all.  I  succeeded  in  passing  out  without  her  waking,  and 
taking  the  shoes,  hurried  half  way  to  the  house  where  I 
had  passed  the  evening,  and  left  them  a  short  distance 
from  each  other  in  the  road,  and  again  returned  to  my 
chamber,  and  laid  my  head,  upon  my  pillow;  but  my 
mind  was  not  relieved,  and  compelled  by  conscience,  I 
24 


214  ELEMENTARY    MORAL    LESSONS. 

again  arose,  returned  to  the  spot  where  I  had  left  them, 
and  with  a  trembling  heart  went  quite  to  the  house,  and 
placed  them  under  the  window  near  the  door,  and  again 
returned  to  my  bed — being  quite  exhausted,  I  soon  fell 
asleep. 

The  next  week  I  went,  in  company  with  some  of  my 
companions,  on  a  nutting  excursion.  The  boy  whom  I 
had  wronged  was  one  of  the  number.  I  need  hardly  say 
that  I  was  happy  when  I  saw  the  shoes  I  had  coveted, 
upon  his  feet,  although  I  was  still  destitute. 

This  incident  has  had  a  beneficial  effect  upon  my  life. 
Its  influence  is  yet  felt,  although  many  years  have  passed 
since  it  occurred.  Let  it  be  a  warning  to  all  who  may 
read  it,  to  resist  even  the  first  approaches  to  evil,  and 
they  will  avoid  the  misery  of  an  upbraiding  conscience, 
and  the  pain  of  self-reproach  in  after  years. 


5.  Why  did  the  affectionate  smiles  of  the  boy's  pa- 
rents, in  the  last  narrative,  cause  the  boy  so  much  pain? 

6.  Why  did  he  prefer  to  take  so  much  pains  in  the 
lonely  hours  of  the  night,  to  return  the  shoes  to  the  place 
where  he  found  them? 

7.  Which  did  he  probably  find  preferable,  to  be  very 
-poor  and  go  barefoot  in  the  cold  and  frost,  or  carry  with 
him,  constantly,  a  sense  of  guilt  ? 

S.  Which  would  you  prefer,  to  have  plenty  of  property 
and  enjoyments,  not  quite  honestly  obtained,  or  be  very 
poor  with  the  consciousness  that  you  had  never,  in  any 
manner,  wronged  any  one? 

9.   In  what  other  ways  may  we  be  very  guilty  of  wrong- 


LOVING  OTHERS.  215 

ing  others  besides  obtaining  their  property  by  stealing, 
or,  in  any  manner,  unfairly? 

10.  In  what  ways  may  we  be  very  guilty  simply  by 
neglecting  to  do  any  thing? 


LESSON  XXX. 


WE  MUST  LEAKN  TO  LOVE  OTHEES  AS  WE  LOVE  ODE- 
SELVES. 


NARRATIVE. 

Moral  Heroism  of  Quakers. — In  referring  to  the 
immeasurable  superiority  of  victories  of  peace  over 
victories  in  war,  Mr.  Cobden  makes  the  following  striking 
allusion  to  the  moral  heroism  of  the  English  Quakers 
amid  the  Irish  famine: 

"The  famine  fell  upon  nearly  one  half  of  a  great  na- 
tion. The  whole  world  hastened  to  contribute  money  and 
food.  But  a  few  courageous  men  left  their  homes  in  Mid- 
dlesex and  Surrey,  and  penetrated  to  the  remotest  glens 
and  bogs  of  the  West  coast  of  the  stricken  island,  to 
administer  relief  with  their  own  hands.  They  found 
themselves,  not  merely  in  the  valley  of  the  shadow  of 
death — that  would  be  but  an  imperfect  image — they  were 
in  the  charnel-house  of  a  nation.  Never,  since  the  11th 
century,  did  Pestilence,  the  gaunt  handmaid  of  Famine, 
glean  so  rich  a  harvest.  In  the  midst  of  a  scene,  which 
no  field  of  battle  ever  equalled  in  danger,  in  the  number 


216  ELEMENTARY    MORAL    LESSONS. 

of  its  slain,  or  the  physical  sufferings  of  the  living,  the 
brave  men  walked  as  calm  and  unmoved  as  though  they 
had  been  in  their  homes.  The  population  sunk  so  fast 
that  the  living  could  not  bury  the  dead;  half  interred 
bodies  protruded  from  the  gaping  graves ;  often  the  wife 
died  in  the  midst  of  her  starving  children,  while  the  hus- 
band lay  a  festering  corpse  by  her  side.  Into  the  midst 
of  these  horrors  did  our  heroes  penetrate,  dragging  the 
dead  from  the  living  with  their  own  hands,  raising  the 
heads  of  the  famishing  children,  and  pouring  nourishment 
into  parched  lips,  from  which  shot  fever-flames  more 
deadly  than  a  volley  of  musketry.  Here  was  courage! 
No  music  strung  the  nerves ;  no  smoke  obscured  the  im- 
minent danger;  no  thunder  of  artillery  deadened  the  sen- 
ses. It  was  cool  self-possession  and  resolute  will,  calcu- 
lated risk  and  heroic  resignation.  And  who  were  these 
brave  men?  To  what  "gallant"  corps  did  they  belong? 
Were  they  of  the  horse,  foot,  or  artillery  force?  No! 
They  were  Quakers  from  Clapham  and  Kingston!  If 
you  would  know  what  heroic  actions  they  performed,  you 
must  inquire  from  those  who  witnessed  them.  You  will 
not  find  them  recorded  in  the  volume  of  Reports  published 
by  themselves — for  Quakers  write  no  bulletin  of  their 
victories. 


1.  What  do  you  perceive  in  the  conduct  of  the  Qua- 
kers, in  the  last  narrative,  that  is  unusual? 

2.  Which  would  you  think  the  position  of  greater 
danger,  that  of  the  soldier  on  the  battle  field,  or  that  of 
the  Quakers  in  the  midst  of  the  pestilence? 

3.  What  motive  induces  the  soldier  to  meet  danger? 
What  motives  induced  these  men  of  England  to  leave 


LOVING  OTHERS.  217 

their  homes  and  go  to  Ireland  to  help  the  sick  and  the 
dying? 

4.  Can  we  learn  to  love  those  who  are  strangers  to  us? 
Can  we  learn  to  love  our  near  relatives  as  we  love  our- 
selves? 

5.  When  we  know  that  strangers,  to  us.  are  in  need, 
or  in  distress,  can  we  learn  to  feel  for  them,  as  we  would 
feel  for  ourselves  ] 

6.  Would  the  Quakers  of  Clapham  and  Kingston  have 
probably  labored  any  more  faithfully  and  devotedly  with 
their  nearest  relatives  than  they  did  with  these  strangers 
in  Ireland? 

7.  If  it  was  possible  for  these  good  men  to  feel  such 
an  interest  in  strangers,  is  it  possible  for  others  to  do  the 

same'.' 

8.  Have  you  ever  known  instances  where  persons  have 
loved  others  so  well  that  they  have,  voluntarily  and  in- 
tentionally sacrificed  their  own  lives,  for  the  good  of 
others,  or  to  save  the  lives  of  others'? 


NARRATIVE. 


Filial  Affection. — One  incident  of  the  disaster  of  the 
steamer  Henry  Clay,  on  the  Hudson  River,  in  1552, 
discloses  a  rare  and  affecting  magnanimity  of  soul.  A 
mother  and  her  daughter  were  clinging  to  each  other  when 
the  ill-fated  vessel  struck  the  shore,  and  contemplated 
with  dismay  their  slender  prospect  of  reaching  land  from 
the  stern  of  the  boat,  which  lay  far  out  in  the  water.  As 
the  progress  of  the  flames  was  driving  them  to  the  fatal 


218  ELEMENTARY    MORAL  LESSONS. 

leap  from  the  wreck,  a  friend  came  up  and  leaning  over 
the  daughter — as  though  to  impart  to  the  more  youthful 
of  the  two,  the  small  chance  of  life  which  remained — an- 
nounced that  he  would  do  everything  in  hsi  power  to  aid 
them,  but  that  it  was  scarcely  possible  for  him  to  save 
more  than  one  of  them.  So  startling  and  sad  an  an- 
nouncement might  well  have  thrown  an  ordinary  mind 
into  a  perturbation  that  would  destroy  the  possibility  of 
any  calm  and  rational  action.  A  selfish  soul  would  have 
grasped,  with  eager  forgetfulness  of  all  but  the  prospect 
of  rescue,  at  the  possibility,  thus  afforded,  of  escape. 
But  the  noble  soul  of  which  we  write  was  neither  over- 
came by  the  terror  nor  shaken  by  the  temptation  of  the 
terrible  hour.  Her  determination  was  instantly  formed. 
She  turned  to  her  mother,  and  communicated  the  fact 
that  only  one  of  thern  could  be  saved.  Then  giving  her 
mother  one  kiss  of  affection,  and  breathiug  one  farewell 
word,  and  ere  her  intention  could  be  divined,  or  her  ac- 
tion anticipated,  she  plunged  into  the  river;  and  thus  she 
perished,  decisively  resigning  her  chance  of  escape  to  the 
mother  whom  she  loved  better  than  life. 

They  recovered  her  remains  from  the  water,  and  buried 
them  with  becomino-  rites,  and  doubtless  with  most  hu- 
mane  sympathy;  but  few  knew,  save  the  broken-hearted 
mother,  what  a  strength  of  filial  love  had  throbbed  in 
that  poor  cold  bosom  while  it  lived,  nor  in  what  a  gener- 
ous devotion  that  faithful  soul  had  perished  at  last.  And 
did  that  soul  really  perish'?  That  mind,  so  calm,  so 
prompt,  so  thoughtful,  so  superior  to  the  direst  emergen- 
cy of  human  life,  did  it  utterly  die?  Was  it  bidden, 
having  reached  such  an  ardor  of  self-forgetting  affection, 
to  be  gone  out  of  this  universe  utterly  and  forever  1 
Does  nothing  remain,  when  the  blood  ceases  to  course 
through  the  veins,  of  all  the  boundless  wealth  of  thought 


LOVING  OTHERS.  219 

and  feeling  which  had  till  that  moment  quickened  its 
current?  While  even  the  body  retains  its  form  and 
aspect — nay,  may  preserve  for  ages  some  semblance  of 
what  it  was  — does  the  soul  for  which  it  existed,  and 
whose  bidding  it  so  long  obeyed,  instantly  perish'? 


9.  Did  the  daughter  in  the  foregoing  narrative,  love 
her  mother  as  well  as  herself? — better*  than  herself? 

10.  When  you  know  that  persons  are  willing  to  sacri- 
fice their  lives  for  the  good  of  others,  what  other  virtues 
would  you  feel  certain  that  such  persons  possessed? 

11.  Which  would  you  think  the  greater  sacrifice,  to 
die  suddenly  by  drowning,  as  did  the  daughter  in  the  last 
narrative,  or  to  live  a  few  months,  or  a  few  years,  of  suf- 
ering  and  disease,  entirely  for  the  welfare  of  others,  with 
the  certainty  of  death  at  the  end? 


NARRATIVE. 

Self-Devotedness. — We  know  not  when  we  have 
heard  of  a  more  striking  instance  of  self-sacrifice  for  the 
spiritual  good  of  others,  than  one  told  by  an  English 
minister.     It  is  this: 

"The  awful  disease  of  leprosy  still  exists  in  Africa. — 
Whether  it  be  the  same  leprosy  as  that  mentioned  in  the 
Bible,  I  do  not  know;  but  it  is  regarded  as  perfectly  in- 
curable, and  so  infectious  that  no  one  dares  to  come  near 
the  leper.  In  the  south  of  Africa  there  is  a  lazar  house 
for  lepers.  It  is  an  immense  space  enclosed  by  a  very 
high  wall,  and  containing  fields  which  the  leper  cultivates. 
There  is  only  one  entrance,  which  is  strictly  guarded. 


220  ELEMENTARY   MORAL    LESSONS. 

Whenever  any  one  is  found  with  the  marks  of  leprosy 
upon  him,  he  is  brought  to  this  gate  and  obliged  to  enter 
in,  never  to  return.  No  one  who  enters  in  by  that  awful 
gate  is  ever  allowed  to  come  out  again. 

"Within  this  abode  of  misery,  there  are  multitudes  of 
lepers  in  all  stages  of  the  disease.  Dr.  Halbeck,  a  mis- 
sionary of  the  Church  of  England,  from  the  top  of  a 
neighboring  hill,  saw  them  at  work.  He  noticed  two, 
particularly,  sowing  peas  in  the  field.  The  one  had  no 
hands,  the  other  had  no  feet,  these  members  being  wasted 
away  by  disease.  The  one  who  wanted  the  hands  was 
carrying  the  other,  who  wanted  the  feet,  upon  his  back: 
and  he  again  carried  in  his  hands  the  bag  of  seed,  and 
dropped  a  pea  every  now  and  then,  winch  the  other 
pressed  into  the  ground  with  his  foot, — and  so  they  man- 
aged the  work  of  one  man  between  the  two.  Ah!  how 
little  we  know  of  the  misery  that  is  in  the  world.  Such 
is  a  prison  house  of  disease. 

"But  you  will  ask,  who  cares  for  the  souls  of  the  hap- 
less inmates?  Who  will  venture  to  enter  at  that  dread- 
ful gate  never  to  return  again?  Who  will  forsake  father 
and  mother,  houses  and  land,  to  carry  the  message  of  a 
Savior  to  these  poor  lepers?  Two  Moravian  missionaries, 
impelled  by  a  divine  love  for  souls,  have  chosen  the  lazar 
house  as  their  field  of  labor.  They  entered  it,  never  to 
come  out  again;  and  I  am  told,  that  as  soon  as  these  die 
other  Moravians  are  quite  ready  to  fill  their  place" 


LESSON  XXXI 


THE  GOOD  ALONE  AKE  GREAT. 


NARRATIVE. 


Elizabeth  .Fry. — Prominent  among  the  distinguished 
women  of  England,  is  Elizabeth  Fry ;  the  friend  of  the 
prisoner,  the  bondman.,  the  lunatic,  the  beggar;  who  has 
been  aptly  named  "the  female  Howard."  Mrs.  Fry 
hardly  deserved  more  credit  for  the  benevolent  impulses 
of  her  heart,  than  tor  the  dignity  and  urbanity  of  her 
manners.  They  were  natural,  for  they  were  born  with 
her.  The  daughter  of  John  and  the  sister  of  Joseph  and 
Samuel  Gurney.  could  hardly  be  else  than  the  embodiment 
of  that  charity  which  nexov  taileth.  that  philanthropy 
which  embraces  every  form  of  human  misery,  and  that 
amenity  which  proffers  the  cup  of  kindness  with  an.  angel's 
grace.  In  youth,  her  personal  attractions,  and  the  vivac- 
ity of  her  conversation,  made'  her  the  idol  of  the  social 
Circle,  and  severe  was  her  struggling  in  deciding  whether 
to  become  the  reigning  belle  of  the  neighborhood,  or 
devote  her  life  to  assuage  the  sorrows  of  a  world  of  suf- 
fering  and  crime.  Happily  she  resolved  that  humanity 
had  higher  claims  upon  her  than  fashion'.  Her  resolution 
once  formed,  she  immediately  entered  upon  the  holy  mis- 
sion to  which,  for  nearly  half  a  century,  she  consecrated 
that  abounding  benevolence  and  winning  grace,  which,  in 
her  girlhood,  were  the  pride  of  her  parents  and  the  de- 
light of  her  companions. 

Though  her  eye  was  ever  open  to  discover,  and  her 
hands  to  relieve,  all  forms  of  sorrow,  it  was  to  the  inmates 
25 


222  ELEMENTARY    MORAL   LESSONS. 

of  the  mad-house  and  the  penitentiary,  that  she  mainly 
devoted  her  exertions.  Wonderful  was  her  power  over 
the  insane !  The  keenest  magnetic  eye  of  the  most  ex- 
perienced keeper  paled  and  grew  feeble  in  its  sway  over 
the  raving  maniac,  compared  with  the  tones  of  her  magic- 
voice.  Equally  fascinating  was  her  influence  over  pris- 
oners and  felons.  Many  a  time,  in  spite  of  the  sneers  of 
vulgar  turnkeys,  and  the  responsible  assurances  of  re- 
spectable keepers,  that  her  purse  and  even  her  life  would 
be  at  stake,  if  she  entered  the  wards  and  cells  of  the 
prison,  she  boldly  went  in  amongst  the  swearing,  quarel- 
iug  wretches,  and  with  the  doors  bolted  behind  her,  en- 
countered them  with  dignified  demeanor  and  kindly  words, 
that  soon  produced  a  state  of  order  and  repose  which 
whips  and.  chains  had  vainly  endeavored  to  enforce. 
Possessing  peculiar  powers  of  eloquence,  (why  may  not 
a  woman  be  an  "orator?")  she  used  to  assemble  the  pris- 
oners, address  them  in  a  style  of  charming  tenderness  ill  1 
her  own,  win  their  assent  to  regulations  for  their  conduct 
which  she  proposed,  shake  hands  with  them,  give  and  re- 
ceive blessings,  return  to  the  keeper's  room,  and  be  re- 
ceived by  him  with  almost  as  much  astonishment  and  awe 
as  Darius  exhibited  towards  Daniel,  when  he  emerged 
from  the  den  of  lions. 

In  this  way,  Mrs.  Fry  made  frequent  examinations  of 
the  prisons  in  England.  She  pursued  her  holy  work  on 
the  Continent,  visiting  prisons  in  France,  Holland,  Ger- 
many, Denmark,  Belgium  and  Prussia.  In  the  early  pail 
of  her  career,  she  encountered  both  at  home  and  abroad, 
some  rudeness  and  many  rebuffs.  But  her  neverrspenl 
dignity,  tact,  and  kindness,  at  length  won  the  confidence 
and  plaudits  of  the  great  majority  of  her  own  country- 
men, and  of  many  philanthropists  and  titled  personages 
in  other  Jands. 


THE  HOOD  ALONE  ARE  GREAT.  £28 


QUESTIONS    FOR    ILLUSTRATION. 

1 .  What  qualities  or  virtues,  do  you  peeceive  in  the 
character  of  Mrs.  Pry.  that  are  most  worthy  of  respect 
and  admiration? 

2.  Did  Mrs.  Fry  exhibit  physical  courage1? — moral 
courage  ? — sel  Menial  ? 

3.  Which  would,  exhibit  the  greater  courage,  the  soldier 
in  going  forth  to  the  Battle-field,  armed  for  deadly  con- 
flict, or  Mrs.  Fry,  going  among  raving  maniacs,  unpro- 
tected, and  armed  with  no  weapons  of  force? 

4.  How  docs  the  soldier,  on  the  battle-field,  expect  to 
conquer,  by  -weapons  of  force,  or  moral  weapons? 

5.  How  did  Mrs.  Fry  expect  to  conquer,  by  moral 
weapons,  or  by  force? 

6.  Could  the  common  soldier,  probably  lay  aside  all 
his  weapons  of  force,  and  go  in  among  maniacs,  as  did 
Mrs.  Fry,  and  compose  them  and  control  them,  as  she 
did?     ( Jan  most  persons  do  as  she  did?     Why  not? 

7.  Which  do  you  think  the  higher  and  nobler  method 
of  achieving  victories,  by  moral  means,  or  by  force? 

S.  Persons  who  can  devise  and  execute,  successfully, 
great  plans  in  business,  or  great  plans  in  war,  or  great 
plans  of  government,  are  usually  considered  great.  May- 
all  such  plans  show  greatness  of  mind,  and  still  not  ex- 
hibit moral  greatness? 

9.  What  difference  do  you  perceive  between  greatness 
of  mind  and  moral  greatness1? 


224  ELEMENTARY    MORAL    LESSONS. 

10.  Do  you  see  any  thing  in  the  courage,  in  the  motives, 
in  the  self-denial,  and  in  the  objects  of  the  men  ofClapham 
and  Kingston  who  went  to  Ireland  to  relieve  the  starving, 
the  sick  and  dying,  that  differs  from  the  courage,  the 
self-denial  and  objects  of  the  common  soldier? 

11.  Which  do  you  think  the  higher  order  of  greatness. 
greatness  of  mind,  or  'moral  greatness? 

12.  Can  any  action,  or  plan,  or  achievement,  be  truly 
great,  or  belong  to  the  highest  order  of  greatness,  that  is 
not  right? — that  is  not  both  good  and  right? 

13.  Can  any  person  be  truly  great,  who  has  not  learned 
to  conquer  himself? — who  does  not,  or  will  not  practice 
self-denial? — who  does  not  possess  moral  courage? — who 
does  not  cultivate  purity  of  heart? — who  does  not  love 
others,  and  seek  their  welfare? 

14.  Who,  then,  can  be  truly  great  who  is  not  good? 

I  ■  iiH>.  iaSni 


Deacidified  using  the  Bookkeeper  process. 
Neutralizing  agent:  Magnesium  Oxide 
Treatment  Date:  Dec.  2004 

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