"Frank began studying very earnestly; but before the first year was ended, the earnestness had pa.s.sed away. Friends would induce him to spend his evenings at their rooms, or at some public place of amus.e.m.e.nt, and each time Frank would try to satisfy his conscience with, "It will be only this once."
[Ill.u.s.tration: "_Only this once_."]
"Thus by degrees, his lessons were neglected, and as study became irksome, his love for excitement and gaiety increased, till one day I overheard a gentleman, who knew him well, remark that he feared Frank"s "only this once" would prove his ruin.
"But a few years before, Frank would have been shocked with the thought of spending the afternoons in racing, and evenings in billiard saloons.
He had not at first really intended to visit these places more than "once," "just to see for myself;" but there are very few who ever stop in the course of wrong doing at "only this once."
"At length his father died. When the sad tidings reached the son, he seemed more thoughtful for a time; but in an hour of temptation he yielded. Before long his old companions surrounded him again, and of them he soon learned how to spend the large fortune left him by his father, in a most reckless manner.
"In vain his true friends tried to check him in his wild career; and, five years ago, Harry, my poor friend Frank died a drunkard."
"Oh, father, how dreadful!" and Harry shuddered.
"Yes, it is dreadful, my son; but there are countless untold stories as dreadful as this one. If we were to visit a prison, and ask the wretched inmates how it was that they were first led into crime, we should find that "_only this once_" brought most of them there. One took something which did not belong to him, never intending to do it more than that once; but the crime soon grew into a habit. Another was once tempted to gamble, and only that one game was the foundation of all his crimes.
Another fully intended to stop with the first gla.s.s; but instead, became a reckless drunkard.
"Learn, my son, to dread those three little words, and when tempted to use them, think of all they may lead to, and ask for strength to resist the temptation; and, Harry, do you wonder now at our refusing to allow you to visit the billiard room even once?"
"No, father; I see now that you were right, and I was wrong in supposing that it could not possibly do me any harm to go only this once; and if Jim _does_ tell the boys some silly story to make them laugh at me, I can tell them about Frank Allen, and that will soon sober them."
My dear boys, do you flatter yourself that it is a trifling thing to do wrong, "only this once?" If so, stop and consider, how often not only the young but those of mature years yield to this deceptive and alluring thought and take the first steps in a career of sin, when, could they but see the end of the path which they are so thoughtlessly entering, they would shudder with horror. They do not realize that sin once indulged in hardens the heart, and that one step in the downward path leads to the broad road.
How many parents yield to the pleadings of their children to be indulged "this once," who find that to deny after once being indulged, costs a greater effort than to have stood with firmness to conviction of conscience and true principle.
[Ill.u.s.tration]
THE RIGHT DECISION
It was the beginning of vacation when Mr. Davis, a friend of my father, came to see us, and asked to let me go home with him. I was much pleased with the thought of going out of town.
The journey was delightful, and when we reached Mr. Davis"s house everything looked as if I were going to have a fine time. Fred Davis, a boy about my own age, took me cordially by the hand, and all the family soon seemed like old friends.
"This is going to be a vacation worth having," I said to myself several times during the evening, as we all played games, told riddles, and laughed and chatted merrily.
At last Mrs. Davis said it was almost bedtime. Then I expected family prayers, but we were very soon directed to our chambers. How strange it seemed to me, for I had never before been in a household without the family altar.
"Come," said Fred, "mother says you and I are going to be bed fellows,"
and I followed him up two pair of stairs to a nice little chamber which he called his room. He opened a drawer and showed me a box, and boat, and knives, and powderhorn, and all his treasures, and told me a world of new things about what the boys did there.
Then he undressed first and jumped into bed. I was much longer about it, for a new set of thoughts began to rise in my mind.
When my mother put my purse into my hand, just before the train started, she said tenderly, in a low tone, "Remember, Robert, that you are a Christian boy."
I knew very well what that meant, and I had now just come to a point of time when her words were to be minded.
At home I was taught the duties of a Christian child; abroad I must not neglect them, and one of these was evening prayer. From a very little boy I had been in the habit of kneeling and asking the forgiveness of G.o.d, for Jesus" sake, acknowledging His mercies, and seeking His protection and blessing.
"Why don"t you come to bed, Robert?" cried Fred. "What are you sitting there for?"
I was afraid to pray, and afraid not to pray. It seemed that I could not kneel down and pray before Fred. What would he say? Would he not laugh?
The fear of Fred made me a coward. Yet I could not lie down on a prayerless bed. If I needed the protection of my heavenly Father at home, how much more abroad.
I wished many wishes; that I had slept alone, that Fred would go to sleep, or something else, I hardly knew what. But Fred would not go to sleep.
Perhaps struggles like these take place in the bosom of every boy when he leaves home and begins to act for himself, and on his decision may depend his character for time, and for eternity. With me the struggle was severe.
[Ill.u.s.tration: "_I will kneel down and pray first_."]
At last, to Fred"s cry, "Come, boy, come to bed," I mustered courage to say, "I will kneel down and pray first; that is always my custom."
"Pray?" said Fred, turning himself over on his pillow and saying no more.
His propriety of conduct made me ashamed. Here I had long been afraid of him, and yet when he knew my wishes, he was quiet and left me to myself.
How thankful I was that duty and conscience triumphed.
That settled my future course. It gave me strength for time to come. I believe that the decision of the "Christian boy," by G.o.d"s blessing, made me a Christian man; for in after years I was thrown amid trials and temptations which must have drawn me away from G.o.d and from virtue, had it not been for my settled habit of secret prayer.
Let every boy who has pious parents, read and think about this. You have been trained in Christian duties and principles. When you go from home, do not leave them behind.
Carry them with you, and stand by them; then, in weakness and temptation, by the help of G.o.d, they will stand by you.
Take your place like a man, on the side of your G.o.d and Saviour, of your mother"s G.o.d and Saviour, and of your father"s G.o.d.
It is by a failure to do this, that so many boys go astray, and grow up to be young men dishonoring their parents, without hope and without G.o.d in the world.
Ashamed of Jesus! that dear friend, On whom my hopes of heaven depend?
No; when I blush, be this my shame, That I no more revere His name.
Ashamed of Jesus! yes, I may, When I"ve no guilt to wash away, No tears to wipe, no good to crave, No fears to quell, no soul to save.
[Ill.u.s.tration: "_Herbert closed his book and began playing with some marbles_."]
THE USE OF LEARNING
"I am tired of going to school," said Herbert Allen to William Wheeler, the boy who sat next to him. "I don"t see any great use, for my part, in studying geometry, and navigation, and surveying, and mensuration, and the dozen other things that I am expected to learn. They will never do me any good. I am not going to get my living as a surveyor, or measurer, or sea captain."
"How are you going to get your living, Herbert?" his young friend asked, in a quiet tone, as he looked up into his face.