Old and Young Christians.
By Mrs. J. D. Chaplin
LITTLE Dick Seaman, young as he was, knew that he was not ready for Heaven; and the thought that he did not love God whom he desired to love, now broke in on all his studies and his plays. He grew restless and unhappy, and all his efforts to "grow good" usually ended in a quarrel with Aunt Hepsy, his adopted mother, which almost broke her heart, and which did not certainly make him any better. Good uncle Nathan was always wise enough not to meddle in these little broils, and so usually ended them by sending Dick to the postoffice or the store. Neither of these good people understood the depths of the child's nature; so they played at cross-purposes in training him, one discouraging him through conscientious sternness and the other spoiling him with injudicious indulgence. Dick often cried at night when he said his prayers; but much as he craved sympathy he dared not ask it at home. But one day at school, he felt as if he must have help or he could not endure it any longer. So asking to be dismissed for the afternoon, he took his way over the fences and the fields to the cottage of his old friend, mother Gale, and to her he told all his perplexities. After a long and comforting talk he set off for home, which he reached half an hour before school was out. Aunt Hepsy's first words were, glancing at the clock, "who told you to be dismissed at this time of day?" Dick resolved to tell the whole story. "I haven't been to school this afternoon. I've been up to mother Gale's 'cause"— "Up to mother Gale's? Well that's fine work! Dick you are a very bad boy. Do you know that?" A cloud gathered over Aunt Hepsy's face, and seeing it ready to break, he felt that now was the time to make peace. Going toward her, as she sat darning very vigorously on one of uncle Nathan's great stockings, he put his arms round her neck, kissed her and said, "mother, I love you; don't be angry. I went up to ask mother Gale how to please God. I wanted to love him, and didn't know how." Aunt Hepsy sprang to her feet and let stocking and ball fall to the floor. She looked the boy earnestly in the face to make sure that she was not trifling with her. When she saw the great tears dropping from his eyes she stooped and kissed him, and said in a tone he had never heard from her before, "My son, I have always loved you; O Dick, did you have to wander about town to find some one to lead you to God when you had a mother at home? Have I been tilling my neighbor's garden and letting my own run to waste?" Dick did not comprehend the allusion, but he asked no explanation. The little fellow had yielded his stubborn will, and taken up what was his "cross," and was thenceforth one of the "little ones" in the kingdom of God. Aunt Hepsy was not a little humbled and mortified to find that the child, seeking to please God, had been to people hardly known away from their own fire-sides, for help; while she who was so active abroad, and a pillar in the church had been ignorant of the struggles, and would hardly believe the change genuine which had taken place under her roof and without her aid. But whenever, afterwards, she saw evidence that little Dick was human still, she would draw a deep sigh, as if grown-up Christians also did not fall short of the perfect rule in spirit, in word, and in deed. Once when aunt Hepsy covered his new writing-book with coarse pink and yellow wall paper, like that in the kitchen, "to make it wear well," Dick cried, because he wanted to see the man on the cover teaching the boys to hold their pen. It was, in his esteem, a pretty picture; and all the other boys had it in sight. But she was inexorable. After a sore inward struggle Dick wiped his eyes and set off with the unsightly thing for school. "There now, Nathan!" exclaimed the good woman when the door had closed behind the boy, "can that child be converted, and act so about such a trifle?" "It's no trifle to him. You and I hain't worked so hard in ten years to conquer our spirits as that boy has just now, and I think he's come off conqueror," said uncle Nathan. Aunt Hepsy groaned. "It would make me almost wild if I thought he was deceiving himself. You must see, Nathan, that he's just as wild and noisy as he was before." "Glad of it!" was the laconic reply of the farmer. "Just to hear him hoot from the top of a tree, or scream down the road after the Wilson boys! I never did such things after I was converted," replied aunt Hepsy. "No, nor before neither; and if you had, they'd put you in the crazy-house; for you was a woman grown," said the good man. "Religion don't make grown folks out of little children, nor angels out of men. I've seen enough grace in that boy a'ready to put me to shame, after trying to please Christ for thirty years! I don't want to find fault with you, but I do think that you was harsh about that ten cent copy-book. Suppose he had turned the corners of the covers up? It'll be thrown by as soon as it's full, at any rate. I'd rather give ten dollars than to have his little spirit ground that way when he's struggling so hard to conquer it! Don't discourage him, or bring clouds over his mind, so that he'll say, 'It's no use trying to be like Christ in this house.'" And not feeling quite sure of the effects of such unwonted words, uncle Nathan added, "I declare! it's time I sent that corn to mill," and darted out of the kitchen. He had scarcely reached the barn when aunt Hepsy put on her hood and shawl, and walked off at a brisk rate towards the school house. Arrived there she put her head in at the door and asked if she might see "her boy" a moment. "Dick, dear," she said, "I've been thinking about that copy-book, and I guess it isn't worth while to cover it. You may take the paper off." "I don't care so much about it, now, mother," replied Dick, "and I'll keep it on if you want me to." "No, I want you to take it off. Fetch it here." He did so, and aunt Hepsy took up the scissors which hung by a string at her side, cut off the offending thing, crumpled it up in her hand, and threw it to the wind. Then she gave Dick a paper of maple sugar from her pocket, smiled on him, and went her way. That cover proved a means of grace to them both; each saw that the other was trying to do right, and confidence was deepened on both sides. Dick went on manfully, "fighting himself," as he said, and doing for others, at great sacrifice of ease and play-hours, such things as little boys can do; and the community, as well as the family, soon felt that there was a great change in the headstrong child, and that although he was far from being perfect, he was one of the "Saints of Eastwood," and the years have proved it true. — Mrs. J. D. Chaplin, in Christian Banner.