THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES I FRONTISPIECE. PAINSTAKING. BY THE AUTHOR OF "EDWARD CLIFFORD," "HENRY WILLARD," ETC. NEW-YORK: ANSON D. F. RANDOLPH, 683 BROADWAY. 1860. ENTERED, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1S59, by ANSON D. F. RANDOLPH, In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the Southern District of New-York. JOHN A. GRAY, PRINTER & STEREOTYPE*, 16 and 18 Jacob St. A I Pit CONTENTS. FAGS I. THE LETTER, 5 II. SELF-DENYING AFFECTION, . 12 III. LEAVING HOME, 20 IV. THE NEW ARITHMETIC, . . . . 30 V. LITTLE SAMMY, 41 VL PAYING A DEBT, 55 VII. YOUTHFUL DREAMS, 70 VIII. FAITHFUL INSTRUCTION, . .84 IX. THE PRAYER-MEETING, . . . .96 622783 PAINSTAKING. THE LETTER. "0 FATHER! I've something to show you," said little Sammy Ford, as his father came in from his day's labor, and seated himself di- rectly in front of the bright wood fire, which was burning in the open fire-place. " Well, my boy, what is it ?" " Look here, papa," said Sammy, holding a small slate up before his father's face. " What does that look like ? Don't it look just like pussy ?" " Ha ! madam pussy, is it ?" said his father evasively ; for he did not like to disappoint 1* o PAINSTAKING. his little son by admitting that he could trace no manner of resemblance between the figure on the slate and the tabby cat, asleep on the rug before the fire. " Yes," said Sammy eagerly ; " don't you see her four feet, one two three four ? and don't you see her nose ?" Before Mr. Ford had time to decide whether the mark pointed out by Sammy could, by any stretch of imagination, be supposed to re- semble pussy's nose, the door was suddenly opened, and two stout boys entered the room. " Father," said the elder of the two boys, " here is a letter directed to you, which we took from the post-office to-night. We have been studying upon it all the way home." " You surely did not open it ?" said Mr. Ford. " Oh ! no, father. We would not do such a thing as that. It was the outside we stud- ied," said Isaac. " It is written by a boy," said Jonas, the younger of the boys ; " that's what excited PAINSTAKING. 7 our curiosity. It's a boy's handwriting ; but we can't make out the post-mark. Here is the letter." " It is from C.," said Mr. Ford, after he had examined it. " Then it must be from Cousin Giles," said Jonas. "It is queer that he should write to father." " What is there queer about it ?" inquired Mr. Ford. " "Why, Giles is no older than I am." "Don't you suppose you could write , letter if you tried ?" " I suppose I could if I tried hard enough ; but I should have to take a great deal of pains to make it look like that." " That is very true," said Mr. Ford. " No boy of eleven can direct a letter like that with- out taking pains for it. So even the outside of this letter tells us at least one thing about your cousin Giles ; it informs us that he is a boy who is not afraid of painstaking. That is something in his favor, is it not ?" 8 PAINSTAKING. " Yes, sir," said Jonas, blushing a little. Perhaps he thought a covert reproof for him- self was lurking in this commendation of his cousin. " If we have sufficiently discussed the out- side of the letter, we will open it," said Mr. Ford. " Please, father, read it to us," said Lucy after her father had opened the letter. " Presently, my dear," said Mr. Ford. Lucy Ford, though only fifteen, was a con- firmed invalid. Her large easy-chair occupied the coziest corner of the fireplace, and she was now reclining therein, supported by pil- lows. " I suppose you all want to hear it," said Mr. Ford, after running his eye over the letter. " Yes, father," cried two or three voices at once. " Well, listen then :" "DEAR UNCLE JONAS: Mother has re- ceived your kind letter, and wishes me to an- PAINSTAKING. \) swer it. I am afraid I shall make very awk ward work, as I have never written a letter except to my schoolmates. But I will try to do my best, for I always mean to do what mother wishes. She thinks you are very kind to offer to let me live with you this win- ter, and go to school with Isaac and Jonas, and I think so too. She says I may go, and I am very glad of it. We do not have any good school here. Some of the boys have gone out of town to school. I almost envied them. I did not think I was going too. I am very glad indeed, though I shall be sorry to leave mother, and Mary, and Lizzie. Mother says I must thank you very much for your kind offer. I am sure I do thank you. " I shall go one week from to-morrow. Mr. Mason, our nearest neighbor, is going to D., and has offered to take me there. If we start early, we can get there by ten o'clock, time enough to take the stage, which I sup- pose will leave me at your house about dark. I shall try to be a good boy, and not make 10 PAINSTAKING. you much trouble. Give my love to Aunt Mary, Lucy, Isaac, Jonas, and little Sammy. " Your affectionate nephew, " GILES DENNEY." Mr. Ford had no reason to complain of in- attentive auditors while reading this letter. " So Giles is coming here to go to school with us," said Isaac. " That's capital." " It's first rate," said Jonas. " I'm glad he is coming," said Lucy. " You will have one more noisy boy to make your head ache." said Mrs. Ford. "And one more to love," replied Lucy with a pleasant smile. " I believe your heart is large enough to hold our house full," said her father looking fondly upon her. " I wonder if Giles can help us make our boats and mend our sleds," said Isaac. " I wonder if he is a good skater," said Jonas. " And I wonder," said Lucy with a smile, PAINSTAKING. 11 " if he can sometimes be quiet for half an hour, and read to me." " What a world of wonders has been created by the outside and inside of this wonderful letter," said Mr. Ford, much amused by the excitement it had caused. "If he would wait another year," said Isaac, " he might come more than half the way on the new railroad." " I should be sorry to have him wait so long," said Jonas. " So should I," said Isaac. 12 PAINSTAKING. II. SELF-DENYING AFFECTION. THE receipt of Mr. Ford's letter was an event of great interest in the family of his sister, Mrs. Denney. 1 i It is from your Uncle Ford, and contains a very kind offer for your benefit," said Mrs. Denney, addressing Giles after perusing the letter. "What is it, mother?" inquired Giles eagerly. " Your uncle has given you an invitation to spend the winter with him, and go to school with your cousins, who enjoy the privilege of attending a most excellent school." "Oh! that's good," said Giles. "You will let me go, won't you?" " And leave mother, and Mary, and me," said Lizzie half-reproachfully. PAINSTAKING. 13 Lizzie was Giles's youngest sister, some years younger than himself. " I don't want to leave you," said Giles ; " but I want to go to a good school, where I can learn a great deal." " And we want he should, don't we, Liz- zie?" said Mary cheerfully. Mary was Giles's eldest sister, four years older than he. " We want him to learn ever so many things, so that one day we may be proud to call him our brother." " Who will bring in the wood and chips for mother ?" said Lizzie. " You and I can do that," said Mary. " But who will milk the cow ?" said Liz- zie. " I can milk the cow myself," said Mary. " I know how to milk." "You are a darling sister," said Giles, struck with the sisterly, self-sacrificing affec- tion with which Mary was forwarding the plan of his going to his uncle's. "I think we can manage these matters," 14: PAINSTAKING. said Mrs. Denney. " But there is a more serious obstacle in the way." The obstacle referred to by Mrs. Denney, was the difficulty of obtaining even the small sum of money required for Giles's outfit. Mrs. Denney and Mary supported themselves by sewing. Most of the work done by them was furnished by a merchant in the village, who paid them in goods from his store. All the money they could obtain was required to meet unavoidable expenses. Xjiles would need at least five dollars, for the expenses of his journey, and the purchase of books and other articles that could not be obtained at the village store. The subject was discussed, in all its bearings, in the little family council that evening, but no satisfactory result was reached. The next day Mary sat sewing and think- ing. At last after a long silence, she looked up suddenly, and said : " Mother, I have it all planned, and Giles can go. You know I have five dollars, and he shall have that." PAINSTAKING. JL5 "I know you have five dollars," replied her mother; "and I know, too, that you have been earning and saving it for a whole year to purchase a shawl, on which you have set your heart, and which, indeed, you very much need. Are you sure you will not repent of it, if you give up this money to Giles ?" " Yes, mother, quite sure of it. I had rather wait another year for my shawl, than that Giles should lose such an opportunity to attend a good school." Giles knew the history of Mary's five dollars. He knew how diligently she had worked whenever she could find a chance to earn a little money, and he knew, too, that the image of that shawl, so bright, warm, and handsome, had been before her mind's eye all the past year. Though he wanted so much to go to his uncle's, he was not sel- fish enough to feel willing to take his sister's hard earnings. 16 PAINSTAKING. "It is too much for you to give up that money," he said. " It is not too much to do for you/' said Mary. " Are you not my only, my darling brother?" " I wonder if any other boy ever had such a sister?" said Giles, embracing and kissing her. "You will be a good boy, won't you, Giles?" said his sister, returning his em- brace ; " so that I may, one day, be proud and happy to call you my brother." "I will try, that I will," said Giles. Mrs. Denney gave her consent, though with some reluctance, to this appropriation of Mary's money, and preparations for Giles's departure were immediately commenced. " Mary and I will be very busy now that we have decided to have you go," said Mrs. Denney to Giles that evening ; " and you will have to answer your uncle's letter." This seemed to Giles a formidable task, PAINSTAKING. 17 but though he would gladly have been ex- cused, he resolved to try and do his best. "Now, mother," said he, after he had written the letter, " if you will tell me where it needs correction, I will write another copy, and make it as perfect as I can." His mother complied with his request, and Giles re-wrote his letter, taking great pains to make it correct and legible. "Now, mother, you will direct it for me, will you not ?" he asked when it was finished and folded. "ISTo, my son, a little more painstaking will enable you to do that. When you get to H., you will have to write letters home, and will wish to be able to direct them your- self. Courage, my boy, one more effort, and the last difficulty will be surmounted. I will give you a piece of white paper which you can cut into six slips, of the size of your folded letter. After writing your uncle's ad- dress on each of these, you will be able to direct the letter correctly." 18 PAINSTAKING. Giles followed this direction. On the firs-t slip, his uncle's name was written too near the top, and so much space was left between that and the name of the town, as to give the address a very awkward appearance. In the next attempt this error was corrected, and another was made in its stead. His uncle's name was not written in a straight line, but, ' as Mary expressed it, ran up hill. The next time it ran down hill. The fourth attempt was more successful, and the last was very well done. And so with much painstaking the letter was finished, which elicited so many comments flattering to the writer. There were new clothes to be made and old clothes to be mended; but Mrs. Denney and Mary were very Diligent, and all the preparations for Giles's departure were com- pleted at an early hour the evening previous to his leaving home. Giles often thought of that evening in after years, and of the kind maternal and Christian counsel he then re- ceived. PAINSTAKING. 19 Mrs. Denney, in this parting hour, first reminded her son of his duties to God and his own soul. Next, she pointed out his ob- ligations to improve to the utmost the advan- tages he would now enjoy, and to show his gratitude to his uncle by rendering himself agreeable and useful to every member of the family. " You may often assist your aunt," she said; "by amusing little Sammy, and keeping him quiet when disposed to be noisy, and no doubt you can find many ways to be of service to Lucy, your sick cousin. But remember all this will require painstaking, so that you will need more than ever the motto I have given you, Never be afraid of pains- taking" 20 PAINSTAKING. III. LEAVING HOME. THE family rose at a very early hour the next morning, as five o'clock was the time agreed upon for Mr. Mason and Giles to start on their journey. Giles felt some sadness at parting with his mother and sisters ; but this was soon dispell- ed by bright, boyish anticipations of the future, and he talked gayly with his kind neighbor, as they rode along. They reached D. in time, and at ten o'clock Giles was seated in the stage which was to convey him to his uncle's house. There were four passengers besides Giles. On the back seat were a middle-aged lady and a young Irish girl. Two gentlemen occupied the front seat. Giles took the middle seat, opposite the elder of the two gentlemen. The passengers on the forward seat soon PAINSTAKING. 21 fell into conversation on a variety of subjects, such as the weather, the crops, the aspect of business, the dullness of stage travelling, the prospect that it would soon be superseded by railroads, and various other matters. To some of these topics Giles listened with inter- est, but as the conversation was protracted, and as much was said that he did not under- stand, he at last began to find the position of listener rather a dull one. The interest of the travellers too seemed to flag, for the con- versation became less animated, and at last ceased altogether. After a general silence of some fifteen minutes, it seemed to occur to the elder of the gentlemen to vary the monotony of the ride, by starting a colloquy with his young fellow- traveller, of whom he had hitherto taken no notice. u You seem to be travelling alone, my lad," he said. " Yes, sir," said Giles, really glad to hear 22 : j A.:.\bT\K T ^c- the sound of Lis own voice one/ more, after a silence of such unusual length. "Are you going through ?" " No, sir ; I am going to H. to live with my uncle this winter, and go to school with my cousins," replied Giles, very willing to be communicative. " Is this the first of your leaving home?" "Yes, sir." " How old are you, my lad?" " I am eleven, sir." " Just the age I was when I went to the city to seek my fortune." " To seek it, or make it ?" said the other gentleman. " I mean make it. It's my creed, that every man makes his own fortune. I went to the city, as I have said, when I was eleven. My father was a poor man, on a poor farm in Connecticut. He could give me nothing but his blessing, and this one piece of advice : * Kemember, my boy, that what is worth do- PAINSTAKING. 23 ing at all is worth doing well. "Whatever you find to do, be sure you do it just as well as you are capable of doing it.' " "As this piece of advice was all my fathei* had to bestow upon me, I suppose I thought I must make the most of it. At all events, I did make the most of it. I entered a store as errand-boy. "Whatever I was set to do, I did just as well as I knew how. So I went on for a year, without seeing any special good come of my painstaking. At the end of this time my master failed. I thought it was all up with me, and I should have to go back to the scrub-oak farm, as I knew of no one who wanted me. But now I found the benefit of following my father's advice. A merchant, whose store was near my master's, had watch- ed my course, and been pleased with it. ' George,' said he to me one day, * I have taken notice of you since you have been with Mr. 1ST., and have observed that every thing you undertake is well done. You are just such a boy as I want, and you may come into 2-i PAINSTAKING. my store, if you like.' I was delighted, the situation was much better than the one of which I had been deprived. From that time I went straight ahead till my fortune was made." " That makes me think of the motto mother has given me," said Giles modestly. "What is it, my lad? I should like to hear it," said the gentleman with an encour- aging smile. "It is, ' Never be afraid of painstaking,'" replied Giles. "A capital rule, my boy, a capital rule. Be sure you follow it, and it will be the making of you. Many boys think a fortune will come to them some day ; but it never will. I went to the city with only one dollar in my pocket, but I have now added five ciphers to it. Do you know what that means ?" Giles looked a little puzzled, and the gen- tleman varied the question. " If you put five ciphers on the right hand .of the unit one, do you know what the sum will be?" he asked. PAINSTAKING. 25 " One hundred thousand dollars," replied Giles promptly. " Eight, my boy," said the gentleman smiling. Giles thought a hundred thousand dollars a great sum. How long it took his sister to earn five dollars ; but there must be a great many five dollars in a hundred thousand. It would take a long time to count them. If he had ten dollars, he should think himself rich. He would give back to Mary her five dollars, and the five remaining would be an almost inexhaustible sum for his own use. " You seem in a deep study," said the gen- tleman, observing his abstracted air. " I was thinking how much money there must be in a hundred thousand dollars," said Giles, blushing a little. " Would you like to have as much some day?" inquired the gentleman. "Indeed I should," said Giles. "Perhaps you will. I dare say you are not any poorer than I was when I started." 3 26 PAINSTAKING. "Not so poor," said Giles with boyish frankness. " I have two dollars." Both the gentlemen smiled, and the weal- thy merchant replied : " Who knows but you will make it two hundred thousand yet, if you only follow your mother's rule ? Don't spare the painstaking. Whatever you do, take pains to do it as well as you possibly can. Don't miss of earning even a penny for the want of taking pains for it, and when you have earned it, take care of it ; don't spend it foolishly. Will you remember this advice ?" " I will remember it," said Giles, his an- imated countenance expressing the interest he felt in the conversation. " This gentleman has been giving you some very good advice, so far as it goes," said the gentleman in the opposite corner, "but will you allow me to add to it a word or two ?" " Yes, sir," said Giles. " Well, my boy, he has been telling you how to get money. I don't object to that ; for money is a very good and necessary thing PAINSTAKING. 27 in its place ; but there is a book which tells us of something more precious than money, which can not be gotten for gold or silver, and whose price is above that of rubies or pearls. Do you know what book it is that tells us of this precious thing ?" ' " Yes, sir," said Giles. "It is the Bible. I read that chapter to mother last Sabbath evening. It is in the book of Job, is it not ?" " It is. I am glad to see that you know so much about the Bible. Have you a Bible ?' ? "Yes, sir; mother gave me one as a part- ing gift last evening." "Did you promise to read it?" " Yes, sir ; I promised to read it every day." "Do you know what it is that the Bible declares to be more precious than gold, or pearls, or rubies ?" "Yes, sir; mother said it was the fear and favor of God." "Don't you think we ought to take the 28 PAINSTAKING. greatest pains to obtain that which is of most value?" "I should think so." " Now for my advice. Take all the pains you will to secure every thing valuable that comes in your way ; but be sure you take the greatest pains to secure the best things. As God's favor and blessing is more valuable than any thing beside, we should take the greatest pains to secure it. Never spare any pains to understand your duty, and to do it. Seek what you will that is lawful and right, but be sure you obey the direction to seek first ' the kingdom of God and his righteous- ness.' My advice may all be comprehended in one sentence. Be sure you take the great- est pains to seek the best things." After some farther conversation, the occu- pants of the stage-coach relapsed into silence, and little more was said until they reached H. Giles was very glad to reach his journey's end, where a warm welcome awaited him from his uncle, aunt, and cousins. PAINSTAKING. 29 The next day being Saturday, was a holi- day, and his lively cousins so filled the day with merry sports, that Giles had no time for home-sickness, or hardly to think of home. 3 30 PAINSTAKING. IY. THE NEW ARITHMETIC. THE first thing purchased by Giles with his remaining two dollars was an arithmetic. As he was carefully turning over its leaves, Jonas said to him: "You need not be so pleased with your new book. I can tell you it is real hard. I am no prophet, if you don't hate the sight of it in three weeks." " Hate the sight of my new book in three weeks !" exclaimed Giles half-indignantly. " I know I shan't do that." " Don't be too sure of it. I know I hate the sight of mine. It is one thing to turn over its leaves, and quite another thing to do the sums. However, if you get into trouble, you must ask Isaac to help you out. That's the way I do." It did not occur to Giles that this might be the true cause of Jonas's dislike to his arithmetic. PAINSTAKING. 31 At the end of the first two weeks there seemed a strong probability that the pro- phecy of Jonas would be fulfilled. Giles found his new arithmetic much more difficult than the one he had previously studied. " Can you do this sum ?" he inquired of Jonas on the third day of his possession of the book. " I can't." " Yes ; Isaac showed me how to do it, and I will show you," said the easy, good-tem- pered Jonas, who was usually ready to do any one a favor, if it did not cost him too much trouble. The next day Giles found three sums he could not do, instead of one ; and the next six instead of three. On these occasions Jonas was his ready resource. He usually found that he had previously applied for assistance to his teacher, or Isaac, or some one else, and the knowledge so easily acquired was readily communicated to Giles. It must not be supposed that Jonas was able to give to Giles an intelligent explanation of the 32 PAINSTAKING. manner of working out the problem. This can seldom be done by a boy who has not worked it out for himself. Having been told how to do it by his teacher or brother, he would leave it upon his slate till Giles ap- plied for assistance, and then pass it over to him for examination. Thus it went on for three weeks, at the end of 'which time Giles was quite ready to pronounce his new arithmetic a perfect bore. He. always sat down to his lesson with reluc- tance, and arose from it with disgust, because he always left it with the uncomfortable feel- ing of having attempted what he had failed to accomplish. He thoroughly disliked his arithmetic because it had conquered him. Instead of gaining, he was losing ground. Every day the list of sums he could not do without help grew longer, and the sense of helpless dependence grew more irksome. One evening, when he had taken his arith- metic home with him, as he was about to make the usual application to Jonas for as- PAINSTAKING. 33 sistance, lie thought of the advice nis motlier had once given him, which was, never to ask his teacher or any one else to show him how to do a sum till he had first tried his best to help himself out of the difficulty. He had not followed this advice. He had been too must afraid of painstaking. " This will never do," thought Giles. " How often has mother told me that I shall find difficulties every where, which can only be overcome by painstaking, and that, if I let these difficulties conquer me, instead of conquering them, I never shall get on in the world. I wonder if I could conquer my arithmetic by painstaking. I am resolved to try. I won't ask Jonas about this sum tQ-night. If I can find out myself how to do it, here are a dozen more, very much like it, that I can easily do. I will try one hour, before I ask any one to help me." Giles kept his resolution, but at the end of an hour, he had not obtained the right 34: PAINSTAKING. answer. He was strongly tempted to seek the assistance of Jonas; reasoning that he had now taken a great deal of pains. But he could not satisfy himself that he had done all in his power. He would have half an hour for study before school in the morning, and would then be fresh and bright. In that half-hour he might be able to conquer the difficulty. If he did not, he would at least have the satisfaction of thinking he had done all he could ; for his other lessons would not allow of his spending more time on that sum. He therefore determined to try it again in the morning. Jonas was his bed-fellow, and he was awakened by him the next morning. " Wake up, Giles," said Jonas. " Do you know that it has been snowing all night? The snow must be a foot deep/' "That's good! Glad to hear it," said Giles. " You know how to snow-ball a fellow, don't y ou ?" said Jonas. PAINSTAKING. 35 *' You will find out that I do before win- ter is over," replied Giles laughing. "And do you know how to make snow men, and snow forts, and all that sort of thing?" " I know as much about snow, and what to do with it, as any other boy," replied Giles. " I am glad it has come." " So am I. We will have glorious fun. Come, let's get up. Mother said she should have breakfast early this morning. We shall have three quarters of an hour to play before school." Giles began to dress himself, not less ani- mated than his cousin with the prospect of the sport before them. But his anticipations for that morning were suddenly dampened by the recollection of his arithmetic lesson, and his resolution of the previous evening. He was greatly tempted to give up all thoughts of the half-hour of study ; but he now recollected what his mother had said to him the evening before he left home. " My 36 PAINSTAKING. dear boy," she said : " if you would not dis- appoint all the fond hopes of your mother and sister, never neglect duty for pleasure. Love play as much as you will, but never let it interfere with duty." After a short but brave struggle, Giles decided in favor of duty. After breakfast Isaac and Jonas hastened out of the house, too eager for their antici- pated sport to observe that Giles did not follow them. He quietly sat down to his arithmetic and slate, not, however, without a sigh for the pleasure he had relinquished. By a determined effort he was soon able to fix his mind upon his book. After about ten minutes he was interrupted by the entrance of Jonas, " What are you about, Giles ? 3J he said. " Come along. We are having glorious fan." " I can't come till I have found out how to do this sum," said Giles, PAINSTAKING. 37 " Nonsense ! you are crazy to be poring over that hateful arithmetic. Come along." Giles good-humoredly but firmly declined. "Let me see the sum," said Jonas, ap- proaching him, and looking over his shoul- der. " Which is it?" Giles pointed it out. "Isaac showed me how to do that sum yesterday afternoon," said Jonas. "It is on my slate at school. I will show it to you when we get there." " Thank you," said Giles ; " but I want to find out how to do it myself." " Nonsense I what's the difference, if you only find out ?" " If I find it out myself, I shall understand it better, and know how to do the next. Now please go away, and don't hinder me. That's a good boy. I'll come when I have done my sum." " That will be too late. It will be school- time," said Jonas. 38 PAINSTAKING. " Then I will come to-night. I fancy the snow will not all be gone by that time." Finding that Giles could not be persuaded, Jonas left him to his task. After carefully reading over the rule and the explanation for the twentieth time, a new light gleamed upon his mind, and he thought he under- stood it. Again he tried the sum, and quick- ly and easily obtained the correct answer. A few minutes served to show him that, in conquering this sum, he had conquered a dozen of the following ones. He clapped his hands with delight, and his heart glowed with a satisfaction such as he had never de- rived from any winter sport, fond as he was of these amusements. An hour and a half of hard study now seemed to him a small price to pay for the triumph of that moment. From that time Giles and his arithmetic became fast friends. That hour and a half of hard study made a mathematician of Giles Denney. He was surprised to see how a clear understanding of that rule smoothed PAINSTAKING. 39 his future progress. His success on this oc- casion gave him confidence in himself, and taught him the value of persevering, self-re- lying effort. From this time he followed his mother's rule, and never sought assistance till he had first made a persevering effort to help himself out of the difficulty. In this way he soon became the best scholar in his class. If any boy wishes to like arithme'tic, let him conquer it. If he suffers it to con- quer him, he will surely hate it. If he now dislikes it, let him conquer two or three hard sums, and he will soon begin to find that he has a taste for mathematics. There was no time for play that morning, but at night Giles enjoyed coasting down hill with his cousins, as he had never before en- joyed that sport. He learned that pleasure is increased by duty performed, while it is always lessened by an uncomfortable sense of duty neglected. Jonas soon learned that Giles was a profi- cient in all the games peculiar to the winter 40 PAINSTAKING. season, though he never did quite understand how he could resist the attractions of the first snow, and relinquish that morning's sport, lust to find out for himself how a sum was done. He was still more at loss to account for Giles's growing fondness for his arithmetic. He did not understand the almost magic effect of painstaking and self-denial, for, like many other boys, he had never tried them. PAINSTAKING. 41 V. LITTLE SAMMY. AFTER Giles had been at his uncle's about six weeks, he went into the kitchen, one Sat- urday afternoon, for the hammer to take out to the wood-shed to crack some nuts. He found his aunt and Sammy in the kitchen. Mrs. Ford was frying a large panful of dough- nuts. She looked weary Sammy was pull- ing her sleeve to get her attention. "Mother," he said, "let me go into the boy's room and play keep school." " No, Sammy, it's cold there, and you will take cold." " Let me put on my little coat and cap, as I did yesterday, then I shan't take cold." " But you will make such a noise right over sister Lucy's head that she can't endure it. Don't you remember what a noise you made yesterday, pulling about the chairs and. trunks ?" 42 PAINSTAKING. " But I won't do so to-day, I'll be very quiet." " No, you won't ; you will forget all about being quiet in two minutes, and will be just as noisy as ever." " Then let me go out in the yard and play." " No ; it's very muddy in the yard ; you will get your clothes all dirty, and make me a great deal of work ; and I am sure I have enough to do now." " Then let me have father's cane to play horse." 1 ' You can't have it ; because you will make so much noise with it, and Lucy's head aches this afternoon." " You won't let me do any thing, mother. What shall I do?" " What shall / do with you ?" exclaimed Mrs. Ford impatiently. "Do go away ; you will drive me crazy, if you don't stop teasing me." Giles had never heard his aunt speak so im patiently to Sammy, and he knew it was an PAINSTAKING. 43 indication that she was unusually tired and worried. He saw that she had a great deal to do, and that Sammy was teasing and try- ing her very much. It reminded him that his mother had told him he might sometimes make himself very useful to his aunt by keep ing Sammy quiet. He saw that the present was just the opportunity to practise upon this hint. But it required some self-denial to do so, for he had much rather join Isaac and Jonas in the wood-shed, than to remain in the house to amuse Sammy. It was duty against pleasure; but he remembered his mother's warning. After a brief struggle, he decided to return to Sammy after he had taken the hammer out to his cousins. He was absent about five minutes. When he returned, he found Sammy astride his fa- ther's cane, going back and forth between the sitting-room and kitchen, and making a great deal of noise. " Sammy has got his horse," Giles remark- ed to his aunt. 44 PAINSTAKING. " Yes ; I didn't want him to have it, be- cause I knew he would worry Lucy with it. But I have no time to attend to him, and keep him quiet, so he will make a noise with something." Giles went into the sitting-room. Lucy's face was flushed, and her brow knit with pain. Evidently the noise troubled her very much, though she would not complain. " Don't Sammy worry you ?" inquired Giles kindly. "Yes; very much," said Lucy, "but it can't be helped ; for mother has so much to do she has no time to attend to him." Giles sat down in the part of the room most distant from Lucy. When Sammy made his appearance in the door leading from the kitchen, he called out to him in a lively tone : " Halloo ! Sammy ; drive up here, will you?" Sammy promptly accepted the invitation, pausing before Giles with a boisterous whoa, PAINSTAKING. 45 pony, whoa ! which elicited a suppressed groan from Lucy. "How far have you ridden to-day?" in- quired Giles. "A hundred miles," promptly replied Sammy, whose ideas of distances were very crude. " That's a long distance," said Giles. " You and your horse must be very tired. This is a hotel. Won't you put up here for a few hours?" This idea delighted Sammy very much. "Yes; I will," said he. " Yery well," said Giles ; " take your horse around to the stable." " Where is the stable ?" inquired Sammy. Giles designated as the stable the corner of the hall where his uncle kept his cane. " Take your horse there," he said, " and charge the hostler to take first-rate care of him." Sammy rode off to the stable in high glee. Having delivered his message to the imagin- ary hostler, he returned to Giles. 46 PAINSTAKING. " Now this is the hotel," said Giles. " The hostler will take care of your horse, while I entertain you in the best manner I am able. Shall I tell you a story while the servants get dinner for you ?" " Oh ! yes, do ;" said Sammy who was al- ways eager for a story. " Well," said Giles, dropping his assumed character of landlord, "I will tell you a story on one condition. You must keep very quiet, and let sister Lucy rest while you are listen- ing to it." " I will," said Sammy. " Well ; once there was a boy who had a beautiful kitten that he thought every thing of." "Was it like my pussy?" asked Sammy eagerly. " It was something like it, only not so large, and its tail was not all white it had a little black spot on it." " My pussy has got a little black spot on her tail," said Sammy very earnestly. PAINSTAKING. 47 " I think you are mistaken ; I never saw any." " I tell you she lias," said Sammy speaking in a very loud tone. " I'll show it to you." So saying, he darted off in pursuit of his kitten. He soon returned with it, and tri- umphantly pointed out a small black spot on its tail, which had escaped the observation of Giles. " There, didn't I tell you so ?" he said, in the same boisterous tone. " I see you are right," said Giles in a very low tone of voice. " Come, go on," said Sammy. Giles made no reply. " Why don't you tell more ?" said Sammy. "Are you vexed because pussy has a black spot on her tail?" Sammy, young as he was, had learned that people are often vexed to find themselves wrong, and others right, on some disputed point. "Not at all," said Giles, smiling. "I am quite willing pussy should have a black spot 48 PAINSTAKING. on her tail ; but I promised to tell you the story only on condition that you were very quiet, and you are not quiet at all, but very noisy." " I will be quiet," said Sammy, dropping his voice to a low key. " Yery well ; then I will go on ; but I shall stop as soon as you begin to talk loudly." For the first five minutes Giles had to pause several times to remind Sammy that he was getting noisy; but soon his little listener learned to pitch his voice on a low key, and ask his questions very quietly. After telling him two stories, Giles pro- posed to make pictures for him on the slate. This pleased Sammy not less than the stories, and kept him quiet for an hour. In the mean time the fevered flush passed from Lucy's face, the knitted brow grew smooth, and a sense of relief, quiet, and com- fort was legible on her face as she leaned back in her easy-chair. This did not escape the PAINSTAKING. 49 observation of Giles. Two or three times during the hour Mrs. Ford looked into the room, and each time a smile of satisfaction stole over her face, as she saw how Giles and Sammy were employed, and remarked the air of quiet comfort with which Lucy was leaning back in her easy-chair. At last Sammy became so engrossed in im- itating the pictures made by his cousin, that Giles was sure he would remain quiet for the next hour, if left to himself; so he determined to go out and join Isaac and Jonas. As he was leaving the room Lucy said : " You don't know how much good you have done, Giles. You have almost cured my headache, besides making Sammy, who has been very cross to-day, quite happy." As Giles passed through the kitchen, his aunt said to him : " You are a good boy, Giles. I declare, I feel as if I had had a night's rest since you came in. I don't know how I should have got along through the afternoon without you. Sammy always has 5 50 PAINSTAKING. one of his teasing turns when there is the most work to be done, and he does sometimes worry me so. Isaac and Jonas might amuse him more, if they would ; but they won't take the pains." Mrs. Ford looked indeed as if she had had a night's rest. The worried, tired expression had passed from her face, and she looked cheerful and happy. The doughnuts were all fried, Sammy was quiet, and Lucy was rest- ing. Giles joined Isaac and Jonas, with a spirit made light and buoyant with the pleas- ing consciousness that he had promoted the comfort and happiness of three members of the family that had so kindly received him. After Giles retired to bed that night he re- called with satisfaction the efforts he had made that afternoon to render himself useful. But the pleasure with which he thought of it was not unmingled with self-reproach, occa- sioned by the consciousness that he had not done all he could to gratify Lucy and Sammy since he had been at his uncle's, notwithstand- PAINSTAKING. 51 ing the hint his mother had given him. Oc- cupied with his studies, and his merry, active sports with Isaac and Jonas, he had too much overlooked his cousin Lucy, who, by a hope- less illness, was rendered, to a great degree, incapable of joining in their sports and studies. He knew that Isaac and Jonas loved their sister, yet he had witnessed several instances in which they had been thoughtlessly selfish, and unmindful of her comfort and pleasure, and he feared that he had been too much in- fluenced by their example. He was sure, if he were sick and suffering, he should wish to be treated with great kindness, and tender consideration, and he resolved to take more pains to be kind to Lucy, and to seek oppor- tunities of giving her pleasure or affording her amusement. " Jonas," said Lucy, one morning the next week, " won't you read to me the story in the paper that came last night, before you go to school ?" 52 PAINSTAKING. "I can't," said Jonas, "I must mend my sled this morning." " Can't you mend your sled to-night ? It's a long time since you have read to me." " Well, who's to blame ?" said Jonas a little sharply. " It isn't two days since I wanted to read you a story, and you wouldn't let me.' " But you know my head ached very hard then." " I know you are never ready to hear when I am ready to read. You always ask me, when I want to do something else." Lucy looked grieved, but made no reply. As soon as Jonas had left the room, Giles offered to read the story to Lucy ; remarking that he often read to his mother and sister while they were sewing. His offer was grate- fully accepted. Giles took great pains to read in such a way as not to weary Lucy ; he was careful not to read too loud, while he read very distinctly. " What a nice reader you are," said Lucy PAINSTAKING. 53 when the story was finished. u It don't tire me to hear you as it does to listen to my brothers. They do not read distinctly, or they read too loud." Giles was gratified by this commendation of his reading, and after this he often read to Lucy, and sometimes amused her by engaging with her in some quiet game. Not unfre- quently it cost him some self-denial to do so. It sometimes happened that Lucy was too ill to hear when Giles felt most disposed to read ; and at other times she would ask him to read when he would much have preferred to join in some active sport with Isaac and Jonas. But Giles was not an inconsiderate boy. He knew that Lucy could not time her periods of headache and increased suffering to suit his convenience, while he could, by a little pains- taking, time his studies and sports to accom- modate her. Lucy, ever affectionate and gentle to all, soon became much attached to the young cousin who took so much pains to give her 5* 54 PAINSTAKING. pleasure ; and Giles, in his turn, became very fond of her society, and began to delight in bestowing those little attentions which had at first been mainly prompted by a sense of duty. Thus it is that duty faithfully performed often becomes pleasure, and self-denial is changed to self-gratification. PAINSTAKING. 55 YI. PAYING A DEBT. IN the spring, Mr. Ford offered to board Giles, and send him to school another winter, if he would remain with him through the summer, and work on the farm. Mrs. Denney gratefully accepted this offer; and Giles re- solved to spare no pains to render himself as useful as possible to his uncle during the sum- mer months. Giles had not forgotten the kindness of his sister Mary, in so cheerfully yielding up her hard earnings for his benefit. At the time, he had secretly resolved to regard it only as a loan, and to replace it with the first five dol- lars he should earn. During the winter he had found no opportunity to earn even a dime. At home there was a frequent demand for such little services as he could render to the neighbors, and he often earned a few cents 56 PAINSTAKING. in that w,ay. But the families in the neigh borhood of Mr. Ford, were well supplied with boys, and had no occasion for such services ; so the winter passed away, and not a penny was earned of the five dollars which was to refund the money supplied by his sister. But Giles did not forget his resolution. He had often heard it said that " where there is a will there is a way." He meant to keep the will, and perhaps the way would at length appear, if he kept his eyes open to look out for it. It did appear at last. Half a mile north of his uncle's was a small cluster of houses, which went by the name of the Village. One evening Giles was sent of an errand to the house of a Mr. Bliss, who lived in this village. "While there he chanced to hear Mrs. Bliss lament the loss of their post- boy, as she called him. " "Who was your post-boy ?" inquired Giles. " Nathan Smith has been our post-boy for the last two years," replied Mrs. Bliss. " He would go to the office every night, and bring PAINSTAKING. 57 all the papers and letters for this neighbor- hood. He had not much else to do, and could go as well as not. But this summer, his father has put him out to work on a farm. I dare say it is better for the boy, but we miss him very much." "Did Nathan get any thing for bringing the letters and papers ?" inquired Giles. " Of course he did," replied Mrs. Bliss. "We should not expect a boy to walk two miles and a half every night for nothing. Most gave him a cent for every letter, and often he would get something for papers. We called him our penny-post." " How much do you suppose a boy could earn in that way during the summer ?" asked Giles. " I can't say exactly. He would get some letters every night. He would also have er- rands to do at the stores in town, if willing to do them, and would pick up some money in that way. I should think he might get five dollars or more during the summer." 58 PAINSTAKING. At the mention of this much coveted sum, Giles's eyes brightened. After a moment's re- flection he said : "I don't know but I would be post-boy for you this summer, if Uncle Ford would let me. It would be just as far for me to walk as it was for Nathan." " We should like the plan very much," re- plied Mrs. Bliss ; " but I suppose you have more to do than Nathan had." Giles was aware of the difference this would make. He knew that a walk which would be only a pleasure of itself, would be a weary toil, after a hard day's work on the farm. He thought the matter all over, after leaving Mrs. Bliss, and came to the conclusion that he would be post-boy for the village that sum- mer, if he could gain his uncle's consent. " If I do earn the money in this way," he said to himself, " I am sure I shall not work hard- er for it than Mary did. I am stronger than she, and it shan't be said that I am not willing to take as much pains to get it for her, as she did to earn it for me." PAINSTAKING. 59 That very night Giles told his uncle of the plan, and asked his consent. At first Mr. Ford shook his head. " I will do just as much work on the farm," said Giles ; " it shan't make a bit of differ- ence." " It will be too hard for you to take such a walk after your day's work," said his uncle. " I don't think it will," said Giles ; " I am pretty tough. Mrs. Bliss says I can earn five dollars this summer, and, you know, I can't earn any money any other way." " What if you can't ? you have every thing you need at present. I suspect you are a lit- tle avaricious ; are you not ? Why do you wish so much to earn this five dollars ? What will you do with it, when you get it ?" " Oh ! never mind about that," said Giles. " But I do mind about it. I can't give my consent to your undertaking so much, without I can see some good and sufficient reason for it, which I certainly do not. I can't see that 60 PAINSTAKING. you have any special use for the money at the present tune." " I want it to pay a debt," said Giles. Mr. Ford now looked very grave. "A debt, Giles !" he said almost sternly ; " how came you to be in debt ?" Giles saw that he was misunderstood, and could set the matter right only by telling the whole truth ; so he related the story of Mary's five dollars ; how hard she had worked for it, and how cheerfully she had given it up for his sake. " Now, uncle," said Giles in conclusion, " if I am post-boy for the village this summer, I can earn the money by fall, and can send it to Mary to get her a shawl before cold weather. It would make me so happy to do it; 1 wouldn't mind being tired." Mr. Ford could not find it in his heart to throw cold water upon the noble purpose formed by Giles, and he gave his free consent to his becoming mail-carrier for the village. The next day, therefore, Giles entered upon PAINSTAKING. 61 the work, and, as he was civil and obliging, he soon became very popular as a post-boy. Being prompt and faithful in performing any little commissions intrusted to him, the pen- nies and half-dimes found their way into his pocket even more rapidly than he had antici- pated. The walk sometimes seemed long after a hard day's work ; but if tempted to flag, he thought of his delicate sister Mary; how many hours she had sewed with the side-ache to earn that five dollars ; and how many times during the last winter she had probably felt the need of the shawl she had relinquished. He thought, too, how much she expected from him, her only brother, and resolved not to disappoint her expectations, nor those of his kind mother. The family of Mr. Bliss were his best and most liberal patrons, and he had occasion to call there almost daily. Soon after he assumed the duties of his new office, Julia Bliss, the eldest daughter, was taken sick, and remained 6 62 PAINSTAKING. quite an invalid during the summer. Giles accidentally discovered that Julia was very fond of flowers. As the family had been kind to him, paying him liberally for the pa- pers and letters he brought them, he endeav- ored to show his gratitude by an occasional offering of a bouquet of wild flowers to the invalid. As the young lady always received the gift with much apparent satisfaction and gratitude, it became a great pleasure to Giles to bring these little offerings, and he would often go considerably out of his way to gather them, feeling well rewarded for his pains-tak- ing, by the sweet smile, and the hearty "Thank you," with which they were re- ceived. Sometimes he would bring a little basket of berries, instead of the bouquet of flowers, knowing that Julia had no little bro- ther to gather berries for her. At last Giles's little store reached the sum of four dollars. About this time Mr. Ford announced, at the dinner-table, one day, that the new railroad was nearly completed, and PAINSTAKING. 63 that the cars would run to D. by the first of October. " Then," he added, turning to his wife, " I intend to go and see my sister, and take you and Giles with, me. The journey will benefit you, and Giles must go and see Ms mother this fall, for he is her only son, and besides, he has been a good boy, and worked well this summer." This announcement took Giles entirely by surprise, as he had no thought of his uncle's giving him such a treat as a visit home, in addition to all his other kindnesses. He would have said, " Thank you, uncle ;" but some- how there was a choking in his throat which prevented his saying a single word. It did not, however, prevent his glistening eyes speaking a whole volume of thanks. The expectation of being able to put into the hands of his sister the five dollars he ha N d earned during the summer, greatly added to the anticipated pleasure of his visit home. His walks from the town to the village now 64: PAINSTAKING. no longer seemed weary ; for the reward of his painstaking was near at hand, and his thoughts were beguiled by fancy pictures of how Mary would look, and what she would say, when he should place in her hands the fruit of his own honest and hard earnings. But a still greater pleasure was in store for him. Julia Bliss began to feel a very friendly interest in the lad who so often brought her fruit and flowers. She frequently talked with him, and one day drew from him the motive which induced him to undertake the office of post-boy that summer. She was very much interested in the story of his sister's self-denial, and his own praiseworthy determination to repay the money. " You have been very kind to bring me flowers and fruit this summer," she said, after listening to the story, "and I would like to do something for you in return. There is one way in which I think I can help you. My brother James is clerk in a wholesale dry- goods store in New- York. He can purchase PAINSTAKING. 65 goods for us at wholesale prices. If lie had your five dollars lie could purchase with it a shawl better than your sister could purchase for seven dollars. If you will trust me with your money, I will send it to him, and then, when you go home, you can carry your sister a seven dollar shawl, which, I think, will please her better than the money. How do you like the plan?" "Very much," said Giles; "but I have now only four dollars and a half." " Never mind ; give me that, and I will ad- vance the other half dollar. You will soon earn it, probably by the time you get the shawl." Giles gratefully accepted this offer, and felt that he was indeed richly rewarded for the extra steps he had taken to gather flowers and fruit. In due time the shawl came. Giles felt sure that Mary would think it very hand- some. He spent hours in imagining how his DO PAINSTAKING. aister would look when she received it. He could hardly wait for October to come. October came at last, and with the falling leaves there fell a shower of joy over the humble home of Mrs. Denney ; for Giles, the only son and brother, in whom so many hopes were centred, was at home once more ; and his uncle and aunt who were with him, gave him the good name of a pleasant, industrious, and faithful boy a name which to his mo- ther was "better than precious ointment." Mary, when presented with the shawl, man- ifested all the surprise, joy, and grateful pleas- ure which Giles had anticipated. "What does this mean ?" she asked, half-bewildered, as Giles, an hour after his arrival, came unobserved behind her, and threw the shawl over her shoulders, as she stood before the glass arranging her hair. "It is a shawl for you, Mary," said Giles. " For me ! "Where did you get it ?" " Bought it," was the laconic reply. PAINSTAKING. 67 " Bought it 1 With what ?" "With money, to be sure," replied Giles, laughing. "What else should I buy it with?" " But where did you get the money ?" "Earned it." "How?" " Come tell the whole story," said his aunt, who was sitting by, " and don't mystify Mary any longer." So the whole story was told, and Mary, while she listened to it, looked from the shawl to Giles, and from Giles to the shawl, in a way which seemed to say she did not know which most to admire. When the history of the shawl had been given, Mary exclaimed : " There, mother, didn't I say I expected to be proud of Giles some day ? but I didn't think the day would come 50 soon. He is a brave boy, an't he ?" " But how do you. like the shawl ?" said Giles. " Oh ! it is beautiful," said Mary, surveying 68 PAI3TSTAKIXG. herself in the glass. "It is so much prettier than any I could have bought about here for the same money. Indeed, it is well worth waiting for. But it was too bad for you to spend for it all the money you had earned so hard." " I didn't work for it so hard as you work- ed for the money you gave me," said Giles. The visit home was very pleasant, though short, and Giles bore away with him his mo- ther's blessing, and much loving and Christ- ian maternal counsel, together with his sister's good wishes. The next winter was with Giles a very stu- dious one ; for he resolved to make the most of the privileges enjoyed through the kind- ness of his uncle. He found time, however, to contribute much to the comfort and pleas- ure of his invalid cousin, and spent many happy hours in trying to make her happy. He was amply rewarded for these efforts by the grateful affection with which his gentle cousin regarded him. Giles always took PAINSTAKING. 69 pleasure in the society of Lucy, for lie was so sure of her quick and ready sympathy in all his plans and pursuits. Her interest had been only second to his own in his plan for pro- curing the shawl for his sister, and she clap- ped her hands with delight when Giles de- scribed to her Mary's surprise and pleasure on receiving it. In the spring it was decided to send Isaac away to learn the trade of carpenter, towards which he had a strong natural bias, and Mr. Ford proposed that Giles should remain with him a couple of years, in the place of Isaac a proposal which was gladly accepted by Mrs. Denney and Giles. . 70 PAIXSTAKI3TGL YII. YOUTHFUL DREAMS.. THE first five dollars earned by Giles had awakened in his heart a new ambition, or if not altogether new, it now assnmed the shape of a definite and earnest purpose. He re- solved that he would some day be a rich man. Very often did he now recall the conversa- tion with the wealthy merchant in the stage. "He was once as poor as I," Giles would say to himself, " but now he is rich, very rich. Why can't I become rich as well as he ? It was all accomplished by painstaking, he said, and surely I am not afraid of that. Yes, I will be a rich man one of these days, and have a fine house, and mother, Mary, and Lizzie shall live with me." These thoughts took firm possession of the mind of Giles, and his day and night dreams were colored by them. He began to contrive all possible ways of earning a little money. PAINSTAKING. 71 " Where tliere is a will there is a way," and his purse soon began to grow heavy with quarters, dimes, and half-dimes. Giles was now carefully cultivating the virtues of industry, painstaking, and frugality ; yet he was falling into a great and fatal error. While so diligently practising upon the hints dropped by the wealthy merchant, he was neglecting the more important advice which he received on the same occasion. He was not taking the greatest pains to secure the best things. Those things Giles was beginning so eagerly to crave were good in their place, but they were not the best things. After an absence of a year and a half from home, Giles was again permitted to visit his mother and sisters. He had worked hard and studied hard during that period. In the time he had earned the sum of ten dollars, which his uncle Ford had placed for him in the savings bank, calling it his nest-egg. His uncle, for the services he could render, had given him his board, clothing, and schooling, 72' PAINSTAKING. during the time. He had also kindly furnish- ed him with money to defray the expenses of his journey to see his mother. When the time came for Giles to return to his uncle, he proposed to save the stage fare, which was a dollar and a half, by walking to D., a distance of twenty -five miles. His mo- ther gave her consent to this economical plan. Giles started very early in the morning, that he might arrive at D. in time -for the three o'clock train, and so reach his uncle's the same day. He travelled the first fifteen miles without much fatigue, but he then began to feel weary. He was within a mile of a pleasant country town, and was passing a handsome country residence. " What a fine place," thought Giles, as he gained a full view of it. " It is exactly such a house as I would like. I mean to have just such a one when I get to be a rich man." After passing the house, Giles gained a slight elevation which commanded a view of PAINSTAKING. 78 that and the surrounding grounds. Here the side of the road was shaded by a beautiful maple. Giles decided to seat himself for half an hour under this friendly shade, for the double purpose of rest, and of taking a lei- surely survey of the mansion he so much ad- mired. Diving into the recesses of his coat-pocket, he drew from thence a paper of cakes and sandwiches, which his careful mother had pro- vided for him. While refreshing himself with these, his eyes took a careful survey of every thing around him. "How pleasant it must be to own such a house," he said to himself. " If it were mine, mother should have a nice room in the wing on this side. How pleasant it looks, with those vines running all over it ! Mary and Lizzie should have the chamber on this corner of the house. Its windows must command a fine prospect, and that is what Mary likes. How happy we should all be in such a house ! 7 P PAINSTAKING. Who knows but that we may try it some day?" Giles sat building castles in the air till lie almost forgot his weariness. At last the con- viction that he should be on his way brought him back to present realities. The vanishing of his beautiful air-castle cost him a pang, as the dissolving of these fairy edifices often does. He heaved a sigh, as he thought how long it must be before his little nest-egg of ten dol- lars could grow large enough to build such a house, and support such an establishment. " I wish I were now in the place of the owner of that house," he thought. " How happy he must be !" The sound of wheels now caught his ear. Looking in the direction of the sound, he saw a man approaching in a light buggy. " How I would like a seat in that buggy !" thought Giles. "How much better than to trudge along wearily on foot ! But any how, it is time I was moving." PAINSTAKING. 75 Casting one more half-envious look at the mansion he had so long been contemplating, Giles left his seat under the tree to pursue his journey. He had gone about five rods when he was overtaken by the traveller in the bug- gy. Though Giles was so young and active, he now began to show signs of being a way- worn traveller. His clothes and boots were very dusty, and his face had a weary look. It might have worn something of a wishful look too, as it was turned towards the occu. pant of the comfortable vehicle who was driv- ing past him. At all events the gentleman checked his horse just after passing Giles, and looking back said, in a cheerful tone : " Good morning, my young friend." Giles returned the salutation with a polite- ness of manner which had become habitual to him, because he had taken pains to cultivate it. " Have you walked far to-day ?" inquired the stranger. 76 PAINSTAKING. "About fifteen miles," said Giles. " You look like it," was the reply. " Have you much farther to go ?" " About ten miles, I suppose, I am going to D. to take the cars." "I am going there myself" said the gentle- man. " If you would like to occupy the va- cant seat in my buggy, you shall be quite welcome to it." "Oh! thank you, sir. It will be a very great favor to me ; for I am not used to walk- ing so far." A few unimportant questions were asked and answered during the first mile of their ride together. As they entered the principal street of the village, they passed a hearse. " They tell me Mr. Osborn is to be buried to-day," remarked Giles's companion. " No doubt that hearse is going out there. Are you acquainted in this vicinity ?" "Not at all, sir," said Giles. " No doubt you observed the house just back of where I took you in." PAINSTAKING. 77 " Oil ! yes, sir, I observed it, because it was STicli a beautiful place." " Mr. Osborn lived there. He was a very wealthy man." Giles felt a strange, cold shudder creep over him, as he thought how earnestly, within the last hour, he had wished that he were in that man's place. What if he were there then ? What if he were shrouded for the grave ? and again a cold shudder ran over him. Giles knew that he was not prepared to die. He knew that if he were standing face to face with death, he would give all he had just now so coveted, were it his own, ah ! and a thousand times more, for one week of life, one week to prepare for death. Were then money, houses, and lands, the things of great- est value, when any day, in this dying world, a man might be placed where these things were nothing to him? This query recalled to his mind the advice he had received more than two years before, from his travelling companion in the stage-coach, while passing 78 PAINSTAKING. over the same road. He felt that he had not followed this advice, had not taken the great- est pains to secure the best things. During the past year he had been planning and schem- ing how to become a rich man. Now he was only a lad, a poor lad, and it must be many years before he could become a wealthy man, but might he not, even now, secure that which was better than riches, if he would? If he had sought the favor of God, with all his heart, might he not have become a Christ- ian the past year, and been able to think of death without the cold shudder he had just felt at the thought of it ? So occupied was Giles with this unexpected train of thought, that he almost forgot the presence of the gentleman by his side, until he turned towards him with a glance which .seemed to ask the cause of this fit of abstrac- tion. Giles felt that it was no more than courteous to assign a reason for it. " I was thinking of Mr. Osborn," he said. "I admired his place very much, when I PAINSTAKING. 79 passed it, and I thought, as I have often done, how I would like to be a rich man ; but his wealth can be of no use to him now." " That depends upon the manner in which he has used it," replied the gentleman. " How so ?" said Giles. " He can not at all events, take it with him." "Very true. It was never strictly his, only lent from the Lord. But the Bible tells us that we may so use earthly riches as to convert them into heavenly treasures, which shall be, as it were, laid up in store for us in that better world whose riches never take to themselves wings and fly away. Mr. Osborn was, I believe, a good man, and I trust he used his wealth in this way. Do you remem- ber the parable of the talents ?" " Yes, sir," said Giles. "You recollect that those servants who made a good use of the talents committed to them received a rich reward. Different per- sons have different talents, and each person is bound to improve the talent or talents given SO PAINSTAKING. to him. One boy has a taste for study, a talent for acquiring knowledge, and he is bound to improve that talent. Another has a decided talent for acquiring property, which he is under obligation to improve." " Then you don't think, sir, there is any harm in resolving to be a rich man," said Giles eagerly. "That depends altogether upon the spirit in which the resolution is made. If a boy resolves to be a rich man simply to gratify a selfish desire for the pride and luxury of wealth, such a resolution is certainly wrong. But if a boy has good reason to believe that he has a talent for acquiring property, there is no harm in his resolving to acquire it, if his wish to gain possession of it is governed by a desire to employ it for the glory of his Maker, and the increase of his own usefulness in the world. Wealth acquired and used in this spirit is a great blessing, and industry, frugality, and painstaking, employed to ac- quire it, are great virtues. PAINSTAKING. 81 " In order to gain and use wealth in this manner, the heart must be right, and the favor and friendship of God must be sought as the great end of life, the chief object of pursuit. This will bring every thing into its right place. Any honest calling may be safely pursued as a secondary object. A man may then become learned, distinguished, or wealthy, and find, in his learning, station, or wealth, the blessing of God. But if wealth is made the first and great object of life, then all is wrong, and when the man comes to lie where Mr. Osborn now lies, his wealth will in- deed be only a curse to him, however much he may have been nattered or envied. Wealth has indeed its peculiar temptations, and they are great; but so much greater will be the reward, if they are resisted and overcome. It is not an easy thing, in any station or em- ployment, to keep the heart right, and the aims pure ; but it must be done, in some good degree, if we would make life a bless- ing, and secure the end for which it is given. 82 PAINSTAKING. It is a most important thing for one starting in life to see this point clearly, and first to make sure of life's great end, or preparation for the life to come." Giles felt the force of the remarks dropped by this judicious Christian gentleman, who had improved the opportunity afforded him to make observations which he hoped might be timely and useful to his young com- panion. He saw clearly that his dreams and plans for the future had been wholly selfish and ambitious, and had diverted his mind from earnestly seeking those objects which were of the greatest moment to him, as an immortal being. PAINSTAKING. 83 YIII. FAITHFUL INSTRUCTION. THIS incident in his journey made consi- derable impression upon the mind of Giles, and imparted a somewhat new aspect to life and life's work. This impression, however, might have proved transient, had it not been deepened by subsequent events. The Sabbath after his return Giles found that the Sabbath-school class of which he was a member had a new teacher. This teacher was James Bliss, who was spending the summer at home, and had taken charge of the class for that period. James Bliss was an earnest, devoted Chris- tian. His words went to the hearts of his pupils, because they came warm from his own heart. There was soon a marked change in the general appearance of the class. The careless indifference of their usual deportment gave place to serious, and sometimes tearful 84 PAINSTAKING. attention. Jonas and Giles were both mem- bers of this class, and both soon became im- pressed by the truths so earnestly and kindly altered by their youthful teacher. But the impressions made on the Sabbath were too often, apparently, effaced during the week. There were strong counteracting in- fluences, tending to this result. Though Giles was only a lad, his heart was even now full of worldly ambition. He knew that, if he would become a Christian, he must relin- quish many fondly cherished desires and hopes. His conversation with the gentleman who had so kindly offered him a seat in his buggy had clearly shown him that the ac- quisition of property was not inconsistent with true and devoted piety ; but it had also as clearly shown him the Christian principle by which this acquisition must be governed. But Giles had many selfish and ambitious desires to gratify, which were altogether in- consistent with this principle. That bright vision of future wealth, which his youthful PAINSTAKING. 85 and ardent fancy had painted, was robbed of all its charms when he thought of wealth only as a talent, lent by the Lord, to be faith- fully employed in his service. Young as he was, his proud and ambitious heart wished to think of life as a theatre on which he might carry out many a splendid scheme of self-gratification. It must not be supposed that Giles fully comprehended the state of things in his own heart, or was ready to acknowledge, even to himself, his real unwillingness to become a Christian. The heart of man is deceitful above all things, and the heart of Giles Den- ney formed no exception to this universal rule. He thought that he honestly wished to become a Christian, and was truly seeking to be one. He was not sensible that he was at heart so opposed to the reigning principle which governs the life and actions of the true Christian, that nothing but the almighty power and grace of the infinite God could make him even willing to embrace this prin- 8 86 PAINSTAKING. ciple. This grace of God lie was not seeking with his whole soul. James Bliss was for a time much encour- aged by the interest manifested by his class, especially by Jonas and Giles. But as week after week passed away, he was pained to see that no real progress was made by either of them, and he began to fear that it should prove in their case that the seed had been sown by the wayside. The time for his re- turn to the city was drawing near, and it made him very sad to think of leaving his class without seeing one member of it saving- ly benefited by the truth he had earnestly, faithfully, and prayerfully presented to their minds on each returning Sabbath. He deter- mined on a week-day to seek an interview with Giles and Jonas. For this purpose, one Saturday afternoon, he called at Mr. Ford's and invited the boys to take a walk with him. The invitation was gladly accepted ; for their young teacher had quite won their hearts. James soon led the conversation to the sub- PAINSTAKING. 87 ject of religion, and told them how ardently he desired to see them become sincere Chris- tians. In reply, Giles assured him that he wished for nothing so much as to become one. " I do not think you intend to say any thing not strictly true," replied his teacher ; "but are you sure that you are not deceived in this matter ? It may be that you do not wish to become a Christian so much as you suppose. I know that you are a boy not afraid of painstaking, and that you are will- ing to work hard to obtain any object on which you have set your heart. My sister has told me how you earned the shawl, which, at her request, I purchased for you in New- York ; and how cheerfully you walked many weary miles to obtain that five dollars. I know, too, by the manner in which you recite your Sabbath-school lessons, that you are a painstaking scholar. How long would you work over a problem in arithmetic before you 88 PAINSTAKING. would ask your teacher to tell you how to do it?" " I do not know," replied Giles ; but I have more than once worked two hours upon a hard sum." " That was the right principle on which to act It showed that you were thoroughly in earnest in your efforts to master this science. But have you ever given equal evidence that you were thoroughly in earnest in seeking the grace of God ? Did you ever at any one time spend two hours in serious thought about your soul's welfare ?" Giles confessed that he never had. " I think this shows that it is not your hon- est choice to become a Christian." Giles looked as if he thought this an un- warranted assertion. "Let me try to make this point clear," said James. "Our efforts to obtain any object that we really desire will be in proportion to the value and importance of that object. You might not be moved to any very earnest ef- PAINSTAKING. 89 forts by the prospect of earning a single dol- lar ; but if I could put you in a way to earn a hundred dollars before school commences next fall, such would be your appreciation of the value of this sum, that you would throw your whole heart and soul into the work of obtaining it. Now the grace and favor of God is of such priceless value, that, if we truly desire it, we must desire and seek it with our whole hearts. " I remarked that I thought it evident it was not your honest choice to become a Chris- tian. I used the word choice, because there is a distinction between a desire and a choice. For instance, you may for many reasons desire to spend the next winter with your mother and sisters, while it is still your choice to spend it with your uncle Ford, on account of the advantages to be gained by so doing. "Were I to inquire about it, you would not tell me that you chose to spend the winter at home. However much you might desire the 8* 90 PAINSTAKING. society of your mother and sisters, you would distinguish between desire and choice. " Now I think this illustration will show your present position in regard to becoming a Christian. You doubtless desire many of the things you would gain by becoming a Chris- tian : such as the favor of God ; the assurance of escaping the terrible doom of the sinner ; and the promise of a home in heaven ; and you mistake these desires for the honest wish to become a Christian. But while you desire these things, you still more desire to continue in the indulgence of your present sinful thoughts, wishes, and purposes ; and this is really your soul's choice. This is proved by the fact that you do not with your whole heart seek to become a Christian. You could not choose so great a good without using your most earnest efforts to obtain it, regarding no amount of painstaking as too great to secure an object of such infinite value." Giles could not deny the truth of these PAINSTAKING. 91 statements. He saw that lie had taken up with a general idea that he wished to become a Christian, while such was not his heart's choice. " If what our minister says is true," remarked Jonas, "I can't see the use of all this pains- taking in religion. He says that we can not change our own hearts, or make ourselves Christians." "What he says is quite true," replied his teacher. " Almighty grace alone can so change our hearts as to incline us to choose God for the portion of our souls, his service for the work of life, and his favor for the re- ward of life. His grace alone can conquer our pride and unbelief, and lead us to Christ in humble faith. But this does not prove that we have no work to do. The same great Teacher who said, ( No man can come to me, except the Father which hath sent me draw him,' has also said,' Strive to enter in at the strait gate.' " 92 PAINSTAKING. They were at this moment passing a fine field of corn. "Look at that corn-field," said James. " It looks finely," said Jonas. " Mr. Brown has the finest field of corn in the place." " I should think so. Mr. Brown is an ex- cellent farmer. He does his part faithfully. But after all, how small his part is ! He could not cause a single ear of corn to grow. How little the seed he planted resembled what we now see ! If God had not given vitality to the seed, Mr. Brown might just as well have planted pebbles as seed-corn ; but Mr. Brown had nothing to do with making the difference between stones and seed-corn. After the corn was planted, if God had not sent down upon it the dew and rain of heaven, all the labor bestowed upon the field would have been in vain. "Xow suppose Mr. Brown had reasoned that, as his work was so small and subordinate a part, and so useless without the blessing of PAINSTAKING. 93 God, he would not break up the ground and sow the seed. What if he had reasoned that there was no use in taking so muoh pains, and working so hard, when, after all, he could do so little, and God must do so much? What if he had sat still on the plea that it was as easy for God to do the whole work, as so large a part of it ? Or what if he had de- termined not to break up the ground so thoroughly, and sow the seed so faithfully, and keep it so clear of weeds ; depending on the power of God to supply his deficiencies ? Do you think if he had reasoned and acted in this way, he would have gathered in such a harvest as he now seems likely to do ?" " Certainly not," said Jonas ; " but no man ever reasoned in that way." "Not about farming, certainly," said James; " but very many have reasoned in this way on the subject of religion. They wait for God to convert them without using the means he has appointed for their souls' salvation. They do not read their Bibles with careful attention 94 PAINSTAKING. and prayerfulness, and seek the Lord with their whole hearts. And yet it is as true in the kingdom of grace as in the kingdom of nature, that man has his work to do, and will be blessed only in the doing of it. God has said : ' Ye shall seek me and find me, when ye shall search for me with all your heart.' Painstaking to secure worldly blessings is certainly commendable; but we are unwise indeed, if we suffer our diligence and pains- taking to terminate here. " If a man were going into a distant country to pass the remainder of his life, and it were in his power, during his journey thither, to make such arrangements as would secure him a pleasant home, furnished with every comfort and luxury during the years spent there ; you would consider him very unwise, were he to devote his attention entirely to securing a pleasant journey thither, and neglect to make any provision for the comfort of himself and family in their future home. Especially, if these provisions must be made during their PAINSTAKING. 95 journey, or not at all ; would you not regard his folly as very great, if all his painstaking were bestowed to make the journey comfortable, while the future was unprovided for ? Much greater is the folly of those who are travelling to eternity, and who spend all their care and labor to render the journey comfortable, while they neglect those provisions for their future well-being which must be made during the journey, if made at all. I entreat you, my dear young friends, not to be guilty of this folly. Be diligent as you will to gain the treasures of this world, but be sure that your greatest diligence is employed to lay up trea- sures in heaven." Giles was much affected by this conversa- tion. It helped to show him where he stood. Truly he had not taken the greatest pains to secure the best things. yf> PAINSTAKING. IX. THE PRAYER-MEETING. "THERE was a prayer-meeting appointed for the next Wednesday evening, at a house half a mile beyond the village, and a mile from Mr. Ford's ; Giles knew that his teacher would be there, and probably conduct this meeting ; and he determined to attend it. When the hour arrived for setting out, there were black clouds in the west, portending a violent thun- der-shower. "Come," said Giles to Jonas, " let's go to the meeting." "I did intend to go," said Jonas, "but I think there will be a hard shower." "That need not hinder us," said Giles. " Don't you remember how, last winter, we used to go through snow and rain to the lyceums and grammar-schools ?" " I believe I won't go," said Jonas ; " I dare say it is going to rain very hard." PAINSTAKING. 97 "I shall go," said Giles. ' You had better not," said Jonas. "I shall," said Giles earnestly and firmly. " If I can go to grammar-schools in the rain, I can go to prayer-meetings. I have made up my mind that I will at least take as much pains to seek the salvation of my soul, as I do to seek the things of this world." When Jonas saw that Giles was resolved to go, he stood in the door for a moment, un- decided as to his own course. But he soon turned back into the house, saying: " I think I will not go. It looks too much like a hard shower." Perhaps this very moment was the turning- point in the life of Jonas. The Spirit of God had for weeks been striving with him, yet at this critical period he declined taking as much pains to go to the prayer-meeting as he had done the winter before to go to the grammar- school, the same distance in the opposite direction. Doubtless many souls have been lost by similar decisions. The dew and rain 9 98 PAINSTAKING. of heaven is falling upon them ; the Spirit is striving with them ; but they will not in ear- nest put their own shoulders to the work. They do not strive to enter in at the strait gate ; Jesus has died to save them, the Spirit has condescended to enter their dark and sin- ful hearts ; but they will not make one earnest, honest effort for their own salvation. From that hour Jonas's serious impressions gradually left him. Probably he was never again so near the kingdom of heaven as on that eve- ning. Giles went to the prayer-meeting. Hast- ening his steps as he saw the clouds rapidly rising, he reached the house before the rain began to fall powerfully. Owing to the show- er, only a few were present ; but it was a precious and solemn meeting. After meeting Giles walked home with his teacher as far as his father's house. His religious impressions were deepened by that meeting and by his conversation with his faithful teacher on their way home. PAINSTAKING. 99 When James Bliss returned to New- York in the early autumn, he was cheered by the hope that Giles Denney had chosen for the business of his future life the service of his Redeemer. As months passed on, Giles found that much of seeking and striving was required, not only to enter but also to walk in the narrow way. But he took his habits of painstaking with him into the new service in which he had enlisted; and here he found them of priceless value. His soul was not as the field of the sluggard, grown over with briers and thorns, but it was as a watered garden. His motto still was, Don't be afraid of painstaking ; but to it he had added, Be sure you take the greatest pains for the best things. Giles remained with his uncle a year longer. At the expiration of this period, he felt that it was time for him to decide upon his future course. His pastor urged him to become a minister ; but Giles could not see his way clear in that direction. Though a diligent 100 PAINSTAKING. scholar, lie had no special inclination for a life of study. He also felt it to be his duty to aid his mother and elder sister, who were working beyond their strength, and to assist in the ed- ucation of his younger sister. He might be mistaken, but he thought he had a talent for the acquisition of property in the mercantile line ; and he believed that he might honor God as a Christian merchant, if his heart were but devoted to his service. Giles was soon strengthened in the convic- tion, that this was the path of duty by receiv- ing, from a merchant of New- York, the offer of a situation in his store. This gentleman had often visited L. during the summer, and had gained sufficient knowledge of Giles's in- dustrious, painstaking habits, to lead him to believe that he would be a valuable assistant in his business. Having gratefully accepted of this unlooked- for offer, Giles in a few weeks entered upon the duties of his new and untried situation. He was now in the path, which, by the bless- PAINSTAKING. 101 ing of God, might lead to the wealth he had once so coveted; bnt he entered this new path with desires and purposes very different from those he had cherished three years be- fore. Should wealth ever be his, it was his earnest purpose to regard it as a talent lent by the Lord, to be used for his glory. It was still a cherished object of pursuit to secure a home for his mother and sisters ; for he was more than ever dutiful as a son, and kind as a brother. But very different were his plans of life, from what they had been when he sat under the shade of that maple-tree by the way -side. He now saw that all those air-cas- tles had been temples dedicated to the worship of self, and that life should have a purpose in- finitely nobler than the mere acquisition of property. This book is DUE on the last date stamped below 1 lOm-11,'50 (2555)470 AA 000475624 3 PZ6 A1P16