Charlie Scott Part 3

CHAPTER V.

TURNING OVER A NEW LEAF.

Charlie's heart felt a little lighter for the explanation. When the tea-things were cleared away, and a nice little bright fire made up--for it was a chilly evening--Mrs. Heedman sat down to her needlework, and Charlie drew his chair close to his father's, waiting for him to speak.

Taking Charlie's hand in his, he began in a kind tone, "I want you to tell me just how you felt while Tom Brown was persuading you, as you call it, to go with him."

"Well," said Charlie, hesitatingly, "I felt I wanted to go very much, and I thought I would only stay five minutes, there would still be plenty of time to meet you; and something in my heart kept on whispering, 'Don't go;' but I did go, you know," he went on, in a saddened tone, "and then the little voice did not whisper again."

"Now," said his father, "you must think well, and tell me what sins your sad way of thinking there's time enough has led you to be guilty of in one short hour."

Charlie thought a moment, and then answered, without looking up, "Disobedience and ingrat.i.tude."

"Yes," said his father; "but there is one more--presumption. You know quite well, Charlie, that warning voice in your heart was placed there by G.o.d to teach and guide you; yet you would not listen; you turned a deaf ear; you knew better than the great G.o.d who made you; you put your own will before His, and treated His Holy Spirit with contempt. It is a most solemn and awful thought that G.o.d's Holy Spirit will not always strive with us.

"What a terrible fate!" exclaimed Mrs. Heedman, "to be left entirely at the mercy not only of the temptation of the world, but the sinful wishes and inclinations of our own evil hearts!"

"Terrible indeed," said John Heedman. "Now listen here, Charlie: The captain of a s.h.i.+p was warned by the pilot on board that the port that they were making for was almost surrounded by rocks, sandbanks, and other hidden dangers, and that it would be certain s.h.i.+pwreck, sooner or later, for the captain, as a stranger, to attempt the direction of the vessel without the advice and guidance of the pilot, who was aware of every danger, knew exactly what was best to do, and could alone bring them safely into the haven. What would you think, Charlie, if I were to tell you that that captain, after being warned of his danger, refused to allow the pilot to help him, turned his back upon him, would not listen to his advice, treated him with contempt, and determined to take his own way; taking the helm himself, and steering straight for the very rocks he had been warned to avoid?"

"I should think he was mad," exclaimed Charlie.

"Not one bit more mad than those who risk the s.h.i.+pwreck of their souls by refusing the help and advice of the Holy Spirit in pa.s.sing through this world, so full of danger and temptation."

"Oh, I see now, father; that is what my Sunday school teacher calls an ill.u.s.tration."

"Yes," answered his father; "and now let us have a little talk about 'there's time enough.' I dare say you will be surprised when I tell you it is really selfishness that makes you so fond of putting off."

"Oh, mother!" said Charlie, quickly, "I didn't think I was selfish. Do you think I am?"

Mrs. Heedman could scarcely help smiling at his tone of injured innocence. "I think I shall wait and hear what your father has to say before I give an answer."

John Heedman went on: "You remember, Charlie, the French marigolds we set, don't you?"

"Yes, I do remember indeed; it was so odd, mother, it was all the same sort of seed, but when it grew up there was such a difference in the form and shade of the flowers, we could scarcely find two alike."

"Well, then, you will understand me when I tell you that in the heart of every one there is the seed of selfishness, which, as it grows, shows itself in a different form in each person. In some it shows itself as pride; in others as envy, greediness, jealousy, covetousness, procrastination, indolence, and so on. Every sin, if we trace it, we shall find that it springs from the seed selfishness--from love of self.

It is love of self that makes us forget to feel for others--careless, disobliging; indeed, it would take me an hour to go through the list of evils that spring from that same love of self. Learn these things, my boy, when you're young. People seldom change their character and habits after they get men and women. It is easier to bend this twig than that tree in the road; and as you place it, so it will grow."

"What are we to do then, father?" asked Charlie.

"Ask G.o.d to help you to watch for it; and as it sprouts up, keep cutting it down, trampling upon it, and rooting it up, as you would some noxious weed that threatened to spread over your garden, smothering and stealing away the nourishment from your flowers."

"What would you call the flowers of the heart, father?" Charlie asked, with a smile.

"Faith, hope, charity, peace, love, gentleness, goodness," answered his father, readily; "one can imagine all these flowers, and many more, perhaps, that I have not mentioned, cl.u.s.tering round the fountain of prayer, depending upon it for their life; and just as the crystal stream of the fountain must ascend, before it can shower down its clouds of glistening and refres.h.i.+ng spray upon the parched and thirsty flowers round its brim, so prayer must go up to heaven before it can bring down life and strength to the flowers of our hearts."

"I understand it all, father," said Charlie, for he loved to "work out"

ill.u.s.trations, as he called it. He went on, "And if the fountain were neglected, and ceased to flow, how soon the flowers would be scorched up by the sun! they would droop, and wither, and die. And so will the flowers of our hearts if we neglect prayer."

"That is very well said, Charlie; but we must take care not to be satisfied with just _knowing_ all this. We must have 'deeds, not words.'

I hope to-day has been a lesson to you that good resolutions, made in your own strength, are of no use. If the failure of to-day has not humbled you, and shown you your own weakness, G.o.d's lesson has been thrown away upon you. Let me see you make a fresh beginning; turn a new leaf over, and set to work in earnest to overcome this darling fault of yours, in the strength of the Lord--not in your own. It will not be all plain walking along a smooth road; you may often fall, through want of trust, or some failing of your own: but do not be discouraged; remember 'the greatest honour consists, not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall.' You know how often we have watched the tide rising, and how you wondered at first that it did not come rolling on without any stoppage; but then we noticed that although each wave fell back a little, it gathered strength to come on with redoubled energy much further up the beach than it had reached before, often catching up some lovely seaweed or sh.e.l.l in its backward course, to bring with it and leave at our feet. Each time you fall, then, remember the waves, and determine, with G.o.d's help, to rise again, and reach a higher mark in your onward course than you had attained before, bringing with you increased humility, trust, and love, to lay at your Saviour's feet."

"Thank you, dear father; I will try indeed," said Charlie.

"And now you had better learn your lessons; after then you can amuse yourself as you like. I don't think we have any locks or anything to oil or put to rights to-night," said his father, with a smile, "so you had better have your new paint-box out, I think."

"Mrs. Brown wants you to look at a lock in her house to-morrow, Charlie; it will neither lock nor unlock. And the bottle-jack has gone wrong; it went off with such a noise when she was winding it up yesterday: she wants you to see if you can do anything to it."

Charlie's face crimsoned with pleasure: his great delight was in locks, clocks, engines--anything mechanical, in fact; but the only way in which he could indulge his love for such things was in taking off, oiling, putting to rights, and s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g on again all the locks in their own house, or any of the neighbours that would let him. As he often conquered refractory locks, he became quite of importance in "the Row,"

and was often sent for. He had an old timepiece that some one had given him, and would spend hours in taking it to pieces and putting it together again; but he could not prevail upon his mother to let him touch "the clock."

The lessons were soon learned, and then Charlie got to his painting.

What a happy night he had, cutting out pictures from some ill.u.s.trated papers, colouring them, and chattering incessantly, unless he was putting in any particular touches that he seemed to think required profound silence and holding of the breath!

"There, mother!" he exclaimed, holding up in triumph a picture of a very stylish lady that he had finished, "that's the way you should be dressed if I had my way; isn't she a beauty?"

"She looks gay indeed, Charlie," said his mother, smiling; "but I'm afraid that style of dress would not quite suit me. Let me see, what has she on? A bright blue dress, a scarlet cloak"--"Like Mrs. Greenwell's, you know, mother," interrupted Charlie, "and a blue bonnet with a green feather on it."

"Wouldn't a blue feather or a black one have looked better?" said his father, looking up from his newspaper; "blue and green are not considered pretty together."

"Well, I don't know why they shouldn't, father." Charlie felt touched at his taste being called into question. "The forget-me-nots, the bluebells, and the blue hyacinths grow amongst green leaves and gra.s.s, and I'm sure G.o.d would not have put them there if they didn't look beautiful."

"You have conquered me there, Charlie," said his father, laughing; "still I am not reconciled to the blue bonnet with the green feather."

When it was Charlie's bedtime, he gathered up all the cuttings of paper and burned them, washed his paint-brushes, and put everything tidily away into a drawer that his mother had given him to himself, so that he might have no excuse for leaving things about. The contents of that drawer were miscellaneous indeed. There lay his pet the old timepiece, surrounded by bits of string, screws, old nails, a hammer, a screw-driver, old tops, bits of coloured gla.s.s, odd pieces of tin, bra.s.s, and wire, two or three apples, a pair of pincers, an old padlock, curious pebbles, a dog's collar, packets of flower seeds, a couple of door-k.n.o.bs, two or three rusty keys, and many other treasures.

When the putting away was finished, he brought the Bible to his father and quietly took his seat. They made it a rule to have prayers before Charlie went to bed, that he might join them; and special mention was always made of him, that he might realize that every little thing connected with his spiritual life was of the same consequence to G.o.d as if he was a grown-up person. To-night there was much to ask for him--pardon for the past and help for the future; and Charlie's heart was very full as he listened to the simple, earnest prayer that was sent up on his behalf.

"Good-night, my boy," said his father as Charlie came round to him; "when you are dressing in the morning, remember that you must also 'put on the whole armour of G.o.d,' for you are going out to do battle, 'not with flesh and blood, but with princ.i.p.alities and powers;' not with an enemy that you can see, but with the spirit of darkness. 'Resist the devil, and he will flee from you.' 'Draw nigh to G.o.d, and He will draw nigh to you.'"

CHAPTER VI.

GOING OUT TO TEA.

One evening, about a month after the events of the last chapter, Charlie was sitting near the window reading, when, to his astonishment, he saw a lady open the garden gate and walk to the door. It was Mrs. Greenwell, who lived in the large house with the beautiful garden, that was Charlie's great admiration. He knew Mrs. Greenwell quite well, because she had often stopped to speak to him, and ask him about his school, and the garden, and other things; indeed, she was Charlie's favourite lady--he was sure there was not another in the place like her.

You must not think he was vain, if we tell you that he gave a hasty glance in the gla.s.s to see if his hair was tidy, and his face and collar clean. He need scarcely have done so, for it was seldom that either was untidy or dirty; he had so often heard his mother say it was no disgrace to be seen in old clothes, so long as they were well brushed and mended, but it was a very great disgrace to be seen with dirty hands and face, and unbrushed hair.

Charlie ran to the door, wondering very much what Mrs. Greenwell could have called about. She spoke a few kind, pleasant words to him, and asked to see his mother. Charlie ushered her into the best room, placed a chair for her with great state, closed the door quietly, and then hastened upstairs to find his mother, taking two stairs at a time, missing one, and coming down on his hands and knees in a lump.

"Dear me, Charlie," said Mrs. Heedman, who had come in at the back door, and was standing at the foot of the stairs looking on in amazement at his extraordinary scrambling; "what ever are you doing? is it a mouse?"

remembering he had once chased a mouse upstairs with much the same sort of noise.