Part 3
Maud had family prayer regularly every evening with her daughter and Joseph’s old servant ---- The Bible laid upon the table, and just as Dick came to the window, she was saying something about what she had read; he could not hear what she said, but he was impressed with reverence and did not knock for fear of disturbing them. After they had knelt down and prayed, they bid each other good night and left the room.
Dick was struck with this, but was obliged to consider what he should do next.
The night was very dark, all was quiet--not a light was to be seen.--Dick once more climbed to his window, but the shutter was fastened. He could not get in, and at last was obliged to lie down upon a heap of dry leaves under a shed along with the dog Boxer.
His sleep was not very sound, and the stars were still shining when he awoke. The first thing that he did was to get out of the village as soon as possible, for he was more afraid of meeting his father than the evening before.
It was market-day at the next town, and Dick knew that his father meant to take a pig there to sell; so he waited under the hedge, peeping out like a fox in his hole, watching till his father should pass by.
Just as the sun rose, he heard a waggon coming, and looked through the hedge, hoping it was his father: he saw the well-known team, and it was going towards the town--but it was driven by Peter the ostler?
The waggon went by; Dick remained in his lurking place without knowing what to do. He began to be hungry, but had nothing to eat, not even a crust of dry bread, and was well aware that if he went home the whip would be laid across his back.
While thus full of doubt and fear, he went to the gate which led to the common, and leant over the stile thinking what he should do.
In a few minutes Jenny passed by. This good industrious girl had a rake over her shoulder, and was going to rake up the hay which had fallen from the carts on the Saturday evening as they went across the common.
Jenny was a good deal surprised, and even a little frightened, to see Dick at that place so early in the morning, lest he should play her some trick. However, she mustered up courage, and said--
“Why, Mr. Richard, who would have thought of seeing you here so early?”
_Dick._ Yes: here I am, but what is that to you?
_Jenny._ I meant no harm, Mr. Richard, only I did not expect you would have been here.
_D._ And pray Jenny, where are you going with your rake? What are you after at this time of the morning?
_J._ I am going to gather up the hay which has been dropped. You know Farmer Norris carted his hay on Saturday, and my mother has sent me to gather up what has fallen from the carts.
_D._ What right have you to it?
_J._ My mother says that the hay which is left by the way-side is like the ears of corn left by the reaper which poor people are allowed to glean.
Dick was silent for a minute; he then said in a milder tone, “So, Jenny, you read the Bible?”
_J._ Yes, sure enough, I read it every day, but particularly on Sundays.
_D._ What is that great book about?
_J._ Why, Mr. Richard, did you never read it? Don’t you know how to read?
_D._ O yes, I can read very well, but I do not spend my time in reading all sorts of books.
_J._ Mr. Richard, you must not speak of the Bible in that manner. It is the word of God, who made the heavens, and the earth, and all things, and it is truth itself.
_D._ Why what can all such a great book be about?
_J._ It tells the history of the world since the creation. There is an account of the deluge, when all the earth was covered with water, even the tops of the mountains. There is the history of Abraham and Isaac, and then there is the beautiful history of Joseph, and an account of wicked Pharaoh who was drowned in the Red Sea. Then there is the history of Moses and the ten commandments, which God spake from mount Sinai. And there is the history of King David who wrote the Psalms, and of Solomon his son, who was the wisest man. But then above all there is the history of the Son of God, who came down from heaven and died for sinners, I mean Jesus Christ our Lord and Saviour; and I cannot tell you how many histories besides.
_D._ Pray what is to be learned from all these histories, as you call them?
_J._ They teach us what God is, and all that he has done for us his creatures. But above all, they teach us that we are all sinners by nature and inclined to evil, and that Jesus Christ, the Son of God, alone can save our souls from being lost and suffering punishment in hell.
_D._ Then I am in danger of being lost, and do I need any body to save my soul?
_J._ Why, Mr. Richard what do you think? All are sinners, and surely you are not one of the best among us.
_D._ What do you mean by a sinner?
_J._ A sinner is one who does not fear God, who tells lies, who steals, who is disobedient to his parents, who delights to keep company with wicked persons, and who does not keep holy the Sabbath-day.
_D._ Why, if these are all sinners there is a fine lot of them in our neighbourhood, and perhaps after all you are one of them, Miss Jenny.
_J._ Yes, it is too true, I am a sinner, but--then--I know from the Bible what God has done for me.
_D._ Well I should like to know what God has done for you more than for me?
_J._ I did not say that he had not done the same for you, Mr. Richard; He will do the same for all those who ask him. O believe on Christ.
_D._ Well, and pray what is this good thing?
_J._ I trust that He has saved my soul from hell, by the death of Jesus Christ the Son of God, who died upon the cross and shed his precious blood to cleanse my soul from its sins. This is what I trust God has done for me, and I have good reason for believing that he has done this, for the word of God tells me so.
_D._ Has He done this for me, Jenny?
_J._ If you read the Bible you will find that Christ died for sinners, even for the chief of sinners, as the hymn says.
“But what is more than all beside, “The Bible tells as Jesus died: “This is its best, its chief intent, “To lead poor sinners to repent.”
But it is time I went to work, for my mother has to go to market, and must wait till I return.--Good bye, Mr. Richard.
Dick did not reply. He was thinking about what Jenny had told him, and particularly the latter part of it.
“It is too true,” said he, returning towards the village, “what good do I get from the way in which I am going on. I am more wretched than a dog. All day I am unhappy and out of humour. Every body in the village despises me, even the little children. If I am at home I am sure to be scolded or beaten; if I go out with my companions, we are always lying, and stealing, and swearing and quarrelling. What good is there in going on so? How different is Jenny: she is about my age, and how happy she always seems! How pleased she looked last night, while her mother was talking about that Bible which they all seem so fond of. But why should not I read it as well as they? I’ll go to old Joseph--I recollect one day he offered to lend me a Bible; I’ll go directly.”
Dick then ran on, and going round the outside of the village he came to the old basket-maker’s cottage. He was afraid of meeting his father, but at last he safely arrived at Joseph’s cottage.
The basket-maker was very busily at work.--“What, Dick, idle Dick, is it you? O my boy, when will you turn from your evil ways?”
“I am come on purpose,” said Dick, in a humble tone, “I am come to ask for the Bible you offered to lend me.”
“What! you asking for a Bible?” said Joseph with surprise. “Can the Ethiopian change his skin, or the leopard his spots.” Jer. xiii. 23.
_D._ Indeed I came on purpose to ask for it.
_J._ And how came you to think about it? Did it come into your head last night when you jumped out of the window upon the dunghill, and lurked about in Maud’s field?
_D._ Did you see me?
_J._ I see you? If I had, I should not have let you go on playing your tricks.
_D._ Does my father know about it?
_J._ O yes, he knew all about it last night, and he saw you skulking under the hedge this morning.
Dick was quite astonished; he coloured, and looked like a thief caught in the act.
_J._ Why I do believe you are ashamed for once. You know what you have done, and out will come the horsewhip.
Dick sat down on a stone, and began to cry, “O how unhappy I am, I wish I was dead!”
_J._ Why that perhaps might suit you, if it was not for what the Bible tells us. But now, Dick, say which you had rather suffer; a few horse-whippings in this world, or eternal torments in the next? But come, we will see whether something cannot be done to make up what has happened. What have you been about since day-break?
Dick related his conversation with Jenny, and said, “My good Mr. Joseph, I do assure you I am now in earnest, and am determined to behave better.”
_J._ My boy, I suppose hunger makes you say so? Pray did you have any supper last night, or any breakfast this morning?
_D._ I am hungry enough to be sure, but it is neither hunger nor the horsewhip which makes me wish to behave better. I am determined not to go on in this way any longer; I am more wretched than a dog.
The basket-maker went into his cottage, and fetched a cup of milk and a good piece of bread. He gave them to Dick, saying, “Here, Richard, take this, and eat what God has given you; and since you wish to lead a new life, suppose you begin by asking a blessing on the breakfast he sends you.”
Dick put his hands together, but he did not know what to say, for he had never asked a blessing in his life. Joseph saw what was the case, and taking off his hat, he said, “O Lord, who art kind even to the unthankful and evil, look upon this lad; bless this bread to his use, but above all give him the bread of life which is in Christ Jesus.”
“Yes, I hope he will,” said Dick; (for he did not know what Amen meant,) and he ate with a good appetite.
While he breakfasted, Joseph talked to him about God and his word.
_J._ My poor Richard, I am afraid you are almost as ignorant as a heathen. I fear you are like the child of an idolater. You hardly know whether you have a soul to be saved.
_D._ What need I to be saved from?
_J._ From the wrath to come--that dreadful wrath with which God in his justice will punish all sin at the day of judgment.
_D._ Is that quite certain? Are you sure that God will punish all sinners?
_J._ Yes, I am quite sure, for the Bible tells us so. Christ himself said, “The hour is coming, in the which all that are in the graves shall hear His voice, and shall come forth: they that have done good, unto the resurrection of life; and they that have done evil, unto the resurrection of damnation.” (John v. 28, 29.)
_D._ Will it be very dreadful to be condemned in this manner?
_J._ “The wicked are reserved to the day of destruction; they shall be brought forth to the day of wrath.” (Job. xxi. 30.) And the King will say, “Depart from me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his angels.” (Matt. xxv. 41.) You will read more about this in the word of God; and remember, Richard, I say _remember_, what that book tells us _is true_!
_D._ That frightens me; how shall I escape?
_J._ Read the hundred and thirty-ninth psalm. You will find it is impossible to escape from God. “Whither shall I flee from thy presence, for even the darkness hideth not from God.” (Psalm cxxxix.)
Dick held down his head, and was silent for a few minutes. He then said, “I wish I could change my conduct, for I am not happy, and I am afraid I shall go to hell if I die.”
_J._ Ah! my lad, you told me so the other day, when you laid in bed after your father had given you that good beating. I am afraid, after all, it is only the horsewhip that has brought you to this way of thinking.
_D._ You don’t believe me, and I do not wonder, for I have often told lies; but, indeed, it is not for fear of the horsewhip that I wish to change my conduct.
_J._ Are you quite sure? Now tell me the truth, and nothing but the truth, Do you really desire to amend your evil ways?
_D._ I do not quite understand what you mean by ‘amend,’ but I know this, that if my father had horsewhipped me, and even broken my bones, I should wish the same. I feel something in my heart which wishes for this change.
_J._ How long have you wished for this change?
_D._ Ever since the day when neighbour Maud spoke to me as I sat upon the bench at the door; I pretended not to mind what she said, but I could not help thinking about it. And then last night when I saw her look so comfortable as she read the Bible, and prayed with Jenny and your servant, it struck me still more. I thought of it all night while I laid upon the leaves, and this morning I was thinking about it when I saw Jenny, and what she said made me quite determined. Now do believe me, Mr. Joseph, when I say I do wish to change my conduct. Yes I do, indeed I do.
The basket-maker held out his hand, and said, “Well, Richard, I cannot help believing you.--Since you really wish this, and since God, I trust, draws you to him, I will not keep you back. You shall find me your friend; I will be a true parent to you. Here, strip the bark off these twigs while I go to your father.”
Dick felt as if a load was taken off his heart. He set to work cheerfully, and that was more than he had done for the last twelvemonth.
After some time Joseph returned; he looked pleased, and as soon as he came in sight he called out, “The horsewhip is put away; you may return home without fear, your father will receive you kindly.”
Dick jumped up, and threw his arms round Joseph, and thanked him with tears in his eyes.
_J._ And I have got your father to consent that you may come here, to me, every day for two hours in the morning and two hours in the evening, that you may learn my trade; and he also promises that you shall not be called upon to wait in the public-house on Sundays. Have I done right, Dick; say, perhaps you do not like this plan?
Dick again threw his arms round the old man’s neck, and said, “Father Joseph, may I come this afternoon?”
_J._ Yes, my lad, if you please, I shall expect you; but go now to your father, and mind what he says. If he scolds you, remember you have deserved it, and do not reply again.
Dick was running off. Joseph said, “Stop a moment. What must we call you in future, Idle Dick, or Industrious Richard?”
“You will see in a few days,” said Dick, and was out of sight in an instant; but he came back in the afternoon.
* * * * *
You will be glad to hear that he was called ‘Diligent Dick.’--Yes, he was so changed by the blessing of God upon the counsels and instructions of old Joseph, that in a few months he was quite different from what he used to be.
Every day he became more industrious at his work, more correct in his behaviour, and neater in appearance, milder in his language, and more regular in all he had to do.
What produced this great change?
It was by the use of means which God has appointed, and which he has promised to bless. I mean by the study of the Scriptures and prayer.
Joseph read some portions every day with Richard, and set him some verses, which he learned against the next day.
While they were at work, Joseph used to talk with him, and explain to him the truths which are in the Bible. On Sundays he especially attended to this, and talked with him about the love of our Heavenly Father, who sent Jesus as a Saviour for poor lost sinners, and to save children, as well as grown persons.
Joseph often used to pray with Richard, and was very faithful in telling him of his faults; but he always did this the kind way pointed out by the word of God, and by shewing him from that book the example of some child of God who was remarkable for some good quality, the very reverse of the fault which Richard had committed.
Dick had been called ‘good-for-nothing’ while he kept bad company, but when he became acquainted with the truths of Scripture, he forsook his evil companions; and though they pressed him to come among them, he steadily refused to do so. You may be sure he found out the little girl and gave her back her half crown.
His former wicked associates were astonished at this change. They made game of him, and used to insult him; but all the good people in the village, all those who loved God, the true disciples of Jesus, welcomed Richard as a friend;
and when they saw him going by, they used to say, “Aye, there he is,--when he despised instruction he was an idle vagabond and a good-for-nothing fellow; but since he has delighted in the word of God, and studied its precepts, he is become an honest, industrious, worthy lad. O! how wonderful a change the grace of the Lord has made in that poor lad!”
THE LADY-BIRD.
I was busy, and my little boy Charles, just seven years old, was playing about the room. All at once he ran up to me, and asked me to look at a little insect which was crawling upon a piece of paper in his hand.
_Charles._ Look, papa, at this insect: how very small it is! How fast it moves its little feet. Why did God make such a little thing?
_Father._ It is a Lady-bird. I will put it under the microscope, and you will then see something more than you expect.
_C._ Quick, papa, else it will fly away.
I put the insect under the microscope without hurting it. To the naked eye it did not appear any thing particular. Its back was red, with black and white spots; underneath, it was of a greyish colour.
On looking through the microscope I was struck with wonder. Its back, which had appeared so plain, was beautiful; the red part I found was covered with a sort of elegant feathers, all ranged in the most exact order; the black and white spots were as regular as the squares of a chess board, and were formed of something like scales, of the clearest white, bordered with others of a bright shining black; it was divided lengthways by a black line, and the two sides were exactly alike.
“How wonderful are the works of God,” I exclaimed, “Who would have supposed that this little insect was so beautifully and wonderfully made? How perfect are all His works!”
Charles was in a great hurry to see for himself. He looked several minutes without speaking, and then turned towards me with surprise.
_C._ Oh, papa, how beautiful it is! How wonderful that God should give a little thing like that such a beautiful shining dress. Did you see his head, and the scales on his back? They shine like silver or glass. How beautiful, how very beautiful!
_F._ My boy, since our heavenly Father is so great, so wise, and so powerful, since he has taken such care of such a little insect, think what care he takes of his children, whom he so loved that he gave his only and well-beloved son, Jesus Christ, to die for their sins, that those who believe in him may be saved from the wrath to come.
_C._ Yes; I recollect reading in St. Matthew, how he told his disciples that they “were of more value than many sparrows.” They must then be of more value than this little insect; and since God has given it such a beautiful dress, surely he will take care of us. Thank you, papa, for having let me see the Lady-bird, for it shows us how good and kind the Lord is, and how wonderful are his works.
_F._ You are right Charles; it is a mark of God’s love, that he causes us to know and feel his wisdom and power. Above all, it is very kind of him to enable us to trust in him, and to feel assured that he takes care of us. That he sees us, and keeps us from evil.
_C._ As the little book says,
“He keeps from harm, he gives me food, “And every day he does me good.”
I then turned the glass box in which the insect was shut, and looked at the other side. Its three pair of legs were placed so that it could move properly; they were covered with very small scales which protected them, and yet allowed them to move in every direction. Its little feet were joined on with the utmost nicety; they moved with perfect freedom, and all was most regular and beautiful.
“How perfect and how active,” said I, “How wonderful in every part! Where is there a workman, however skilful, that can at all imitate any part of this Lady-bird? And, if one was made, where is the man, even supposing him to be the wisest person upon earth, that would enable it to move about as this does?”
_C._ Papa, you told us one day there were some persons who said the world was made by chance? What do they mean? How can that be?
_F._ There is no such thing as chance. All things were made by God. He is the Creator and Preserver of all things. If any body says this little Lady-bird was made by chance, I should think he had never seen how wonderfully it is formed, for it could only have been made by some very wise and powerful Being.
_C._ But what do these people mean, who say that Nature has made the animals, the plants, and even men?
_F._ In general they are ignorant people, without religion, who, instead of giving glory to God, and blessing him as their Creator and Preserver, endeavour to put out even his name from their writings, and their discourses, and say Nature made this or that thing, instead of saying that God, or the Lord, made them.
_C._ Then it was God that made all things! He preserves us every moment, and yet very often we do not think about him. Why is this, papa?
_F._ My dear; our hearts are by nature far from God, and do not love him. Sin is the cause of this; it turns our hearts aside from our heavenly Father, who created us. Thus some persons wish that it was not God who protects us and keeps us from harm, and gives us all that is for our good.
_C._ Ah! papa; then there are but few persons who love God and trust in him?
_F._ It is only _his children_ who love him, and rejoice to praise Him, and bless His name, who trust sincerely and with all their hearts in Him. To be a _true Christian_, is to have the heart renewed and cleansed from its sins, by the precious blood of Christ, being made holy by the Spirit of God. We are, by nature, like that little insect. God has given it life and motion, nourishment, clothing, and all it wants; but it does not think about him, nor wish to thank him.
_C._ But when we are naughty we must be worse than the Lady-bird, for it does not offend God and sin against Him.
_F._ You are right, my dear boy; those who love sin are not so good as that little insect. Then how thankful should we be, that Christ Jesus our Lord died to redeem us from the curse and power of sin: and that he makes those who seek him children of God, uniting them to himself for ever.
_C._ I hope God will be my father, and love me. Surely he will take care of me, for he gave his Son to save me. How kind that was!
_F._ Then, my dear child, love this Saviour; try to glorify Him, and remember the words of St. Paul, “He that spared not his own Son, but delivered him up for us all, how shall he not with him also freely give us all things.” Remember this Lady-bird; how beautifully and wonderfully it is made by the power of our Lord. Above all things seek with confidence for his blessing, who, through Christ Jesus, is your heavenly father, and will not forget you.
THE LOST CHILD.
Mrs. Sinclair was a good and tender mother and very seldom left her little family.
One afternoon she was obliged to go out, and as it was to visit a sick person, she thought it best not to take with her either Charlotte, who was five years old, or Charles, who was just three years and a half. Her eldest son, Ernest, was gone out with his father, and there was nobody left at home except the servants and the children. Mrs. Sinclair spoke particularly to Fanny, the nurse maid, telling her to great care of Charles and Charlotte.