The Young Lord, and Other Tales; to which is added Victorine Durocher

THE YOUNG LORD; AND THE TRIAL OF ADVERSITY.

BY MRS. NEWTON CROSLAND, (LATE CAMILLA TOULMIN.)

THE YOUNG LORD.

"Lay not up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust do corrupt, and where thieves break through and steal.

"But lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust doth corrupt, and where thieves do not break through nor steal.

"For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also."--ST. MATT. vi. 19, 20, 21.

"How can we reward the little boy who has so honestly brought me the bracelet I lost at church yesterday?" said Mrs. Sidney to her only son Charles, who was now passing the Midsummer vacation with his widowed mother, at a pretty cottage in Devonshire, which had been the home of his early years.

"I do not think people should be rewarded for common honesty," said Charles; "and the clasp contained such an excellent likeness of papa, whom every one in the village knew, that it would have been unsafe as well as dishonest for him not to have delivered it up."

"I am sorry to find, Charles," said Mrs. Sidney, "that school has not weakened those selfish feelings which have so often caused me pain. You seem to me to think that every trifling gift I bestow upon another is robbing you; and, worse than all, I find you constantly wresting phrases from their real meaning to answer your own purposes. Thus, I agree with you that people should not look upon common honesty as anything beyond a simple duty which they would be culpable not to perform. But I am as well assured that honesty, even in this world, meets with its reward, as I am that it is our duty, when we find the poor and uneducated distinguished by this quality, to show our sense of it, and so make ourselves the instruments of this earthly reward, by every means in our power. I addressed you, Charles, on the subject, because I fondly hoped it would give you pleasure to offer some assistance in the matter; besides which, I thought that you might be more likely to hit upon something which in a pleasing manner would be of service to a boy of your own age--although only a cottager's child--than I could be. I am disappointed in this expectation, however, and can think of no other plan than giving him a small present in money, with some of your old clothes; he is, if anything, less than you, so there is very little doubt of the latter being of use to him."

Now it happened that the honest little boy, who was named Thomas Bennett, had stood in the hall the whole time, and thus overheard the conversation. I am sure that you cannot wonder that he remembered it, with feelings far removed from love or gratitude to Charles Sidney.

Any one who observed Charles Sidney, while his mamma examined his wardrobe to find what clothes she might choose to spare, would have been shocked at perceiving the selfish expression of his countenance.

It seemed absolute pain for him to part even with articles which, he having quite outgrown them, were utterly useless to him, and which very likely the moths would soon have destroyed: for to accumulate and keep made the rule of his life. You may imagine what a serious trouble this unhappy disposition of her son was to Mrs. Sidney, who felt perhaps the more from contrasting his character with that of an elder brother, who had died from a lingering illness about two years previously, and who had been equally distinguished for a generous nature, which had sometimes led him to the opposite extreme of improvidence.

Indeed, poor Frank had been known to debar himself of necessary comforts for the sake of assisting others. His pocket money was given away within an hour of its being received; his books were often torn or lost, from being indiscriminately lent; and the cold he caught, which led to his fatal illness, had been occasioned by his leaving a warm upper coat, which he had been accustomed to wear, to add to the bed covering of a poor sick child, whom he had gone out one cold winter's day to visit. Now, though it was impossible for any one to help dearly loving so amiable and generous a character as Frank, his parents had found it necessary gently to reprove his exceeding and indiscriminate generosity, by pointing out to him that it was even wrong when it tended to injure his own health, or to encroach on the rights of others. On such occasions Mr. and Mrs. Sidney had explained to him that their income was limited, so that their acts of benevolence must consist less in absolute gifts of money (alas! some persons think there is no other way of doing good), than in the bestowal of time and advice on the poor, and a degree of judgment in the distribution of what they had to give, which would make that little of its greatest service.

Charles had often been present at these conversations, and the allusions Mrs. Sidney made to his fault of wresting phrases from their real meaning, had reference to the evil manner in which he applied these warnings to himself--so unnecessary for one of his character: warnings which nothing but the indiscriminate profusion of Frank could have tempted Mr. and Mrs. Sidney to utter. I mention these circumstances because I am afraid we are all too much inclined to find excuses for our faults; to do which, we generally apply maxims suitable only to the opposite extreme of our own failings. And this was precisely the case with the little selfish miser. The death of Mr. Sidney, which had occurred suddenly, had followed quickly upon that of Frank; but, amid all the widow's affliction, she never forgot the sorrow that Charles's selfish disposition occasioned her. There was no longer even the shadow of an excuse for parsimony, as the inheritance which would have been divided between the two brothers would now devolve on the only son. Charles knew this: he knew that he was provided with a sufficient fortune to finish his education admirably, to send him to college, and start him in a profession. But this made no difference in his disposition; he continued to hoard money and books, and everything that came in his way, as if each individual article were the last he ever could expect to have.

It so happened that Charles had several cousins, the children of a younger brother of Mr. Sidney, and whose characters formed a strong contrast to his own. Their father had been a clergyman, and though they had been bereaved of him when very young, they had never forgotten the lessons of piety he had bequeathed to them.

The two Mrs. Sidneys were also sisters, and having married two brothers, the families seemed as it were doubly cemented.

Now Mr. William Sidney, the younger brother, having five children, between whom his fortune was divided, these cousins had each just one- fifth of Charles's expectations, and, of course, Mrs. William Sidney was obliged to limit many of their present indulgences in due proportion to her income.

And yet I need scarcely tell you that William, the eldest son, who was about the same age as Charles, and his younger brothers and sisters, were a thousand times happier than their cousin; and, even with their limited means, did more good to others in a month than Charles did in a year.

In the first place, they were kind and generous to each other. A book, a toy, any source of gratification that was opened to one, was always made the property of the whole family; so that a present or kindness to one of these children, was like bestowing it on five. Then the little girls, Fanny and Lucy, were so clever and industrious, that they would make clothes for the poor, either by purchasing coarse but warm materials with their own money, or from cast off frocks of their own, which their mamma gave them permission so to employ. Like all those who think more of other persons than themselves, and who are constantly enjoying the pleasure of doing good, they were light-hearted and happy; while their cousin Charles, who thought of nothing but his own selfish interests, was three days out of the four in bad spirits and bad temper.

"How I should like to rummage out that closet," said William one day to his cousin, when he had chanced to have a peep into his receptacle for what he had hoarded.

"Would you, indeed," replied Charles, "I can tell you there is nothing there which would be of the least use to you."

"That is good," returned William, with a hearty laugh; "not that I want anything you have stowed away, but if it could be of no use to me, what use is it to you? answer me that, Charles!"

"I tell you there is nothing there but old childish toys and baby books, things that I have not looked at for years."

"Then why don't you turn them out, and give them to some children, or let the little creatures have a scramble for them? It would be capital fun, that it would. Suppose you were to give them to the young Bennetts; I told them the other day I would beg some of your old toys for them. It would be such a pleasure, I am sure, to make them a present. Poor children, you know, have seldom anything of the kind."

"How you talk!"

"How I talk!" continued William, "to be sure; besides, I hate waste, and it is just as much waste to shut things up which might be of use, as it would be to burn them; more, I think, for if they make firewood, that is proving of some use. Now don't be such a miser, Charles, do turn them out."

"I shall do no such thing!" exclaimed Charles, in an angry tone, "and as for your extravagance, it is quite shocking; I wonder what you think is to become of you when you are a man."

"I tell you what I expect," replied William, throwing some apples from his pocket out of window to a poor child who was passing; "what I expect is, to have to work very hard for my living, and, as I am the eldest, I look upon it that I ought to do something for mamma, and the girls into the bargain. But for all that I hope I shall never turn a miserly screw. Why, when God gives us health, food, clothing, and lodging, don't you think that hoarding and hoarding, instead of dispensing the blessings, and performing such acts of kindness as may be in our power to bestow, is like doubting God's goodness and mercy for the future?"

"One would think you were preaching," said Charles, with a sneer.

"Well, never mind if I am; it was only yesterday I was reading one of dear papa's sermons, in which he quotes one of the most beautiful chapters in the New Testament, the 12th of St. Luke, in which our Saviour speaks of the ravens, which 'God feedeth,' though 'they neither sow nor reap;' and of the 'lilies, how they grow.' And HE emphatically says, 'Seek not ye what ye shall eat, or what ye shall drink, neither be ye of doubtful mind. For all these things do the nations of the world seek after; and your Father knoweth ye have need of all these things. But rather seek ye the kingdom of God, and all these things shall be added unto you.'"

"Besides," continued William, after a slight pause, "it seems to me that nature is constantly repeating the lesson which Scripture teaches us. See how, year after year, the blades of wheat spring up, and the fruits of the earth ripen, as if to warn us that we should distribute the good things God provides us with, and wholly trust that he will continue to send us all things that are needful."