TEMPTATION RESISTED.

Charles Murray left home, with his books in his satchel, for school. Before

starting, he kissed his little sister, and patted Juno on the head, and as

he went singing away, he felt as happy as any little boy could wish to

feel. Charles was a good-tempered lad, but he had the fault common to a

great many boys, that of being tempted and enticed by others to do things

which he knew to be contrary to the wishes of his parents. Such acts never

made him feel any happier; for the fear that his disobedience would be

found out, and the consciousness of having done wrong, were far from being

pleasant companions.

On the present occasion, as he walked briskly in the direction of the

school, he repeated over his lessons in his mind, and was intent upon

having them so perfect as to be able to repeat every word. He had gone

nearly half the distance, and was still thinking over his lessons, when he

stopped suddenly, as a voice called out,

"Halloo, Charley!"

Turning in the direction from which the voice came, he saw Archy Benton,

with his school basket in his hand; but he was going from, instead of in

the direction of the school.

"Where are you going, Archy?" asked Charles, calling out to him.

"Into the woods, for chestnuts."

"Ain't you going to school, to-day?"

"No, indeed. There was a sharp frost last night, and Uncle John says the

wind will rattle down the chestnuts like hail."

"Did your father say you might go?"

"No, indeed. I asked him, but he said I couldn't go until Saturday. But the

hogs are in the woods, and will eat the chestnuts all up, before Saturday.

So I am going to-day. Come, go along, won't you? It is such a fine day, and

the ground will be covered with chestnuts. We can get home at the usual

time, and no one will suspect that we were not at school."

"I should like to go, very well," said Charley; "but I know father will be

greatly displeased, if he finds it out, and I am afraid he will get to know

it, in some way."

"How could he get to know it? Isn't he at his store all the time?"

"But he might think to ask me if I was at school. And I never will tell a

lie."

"You could say yes, and not tell a lie, either," returned Archy. "You were

at school yesterday."

"No, I couldn't. A lie, father says, is in the intent to deceive. He would,

of course, mean to ask whether I was at school to-day, and if I said yes, I

would tell a lie."

"It isn't so clear to me that you would. At any rate, I don't see such

great harm in a little fib. It doesn't hurt any body."

"Father says a falsehood hurts a boy a great deal more than he thinks for.

And one day he showed me in the Bible where liars were classed with

murderers, and other wicked spirits, in hell. I can't tell a lie, Archy."

"There won't be any need of your doing so," urged Archy; "for I am sure he

will never think to ask you about it. Why should he?"

"I don't know. But whenever I have been doing any thing wrong, he is sure

to begin to question me, and lead me on until I betray the secret of my

fault."

"Never mind. Come and go with me. It is such a fine day. We shan't have

another like it. It will rain on Saturday, I'll bet any thing. So come

along, now, and let us have a day in the woods, while we can."

Charles was very strongly tempted. When he thought of the confinement of

school, and then of the freedom of a day in the woods, he felt much

inclined to go with Archy.

"Come along," said Archy, as Charles stood balancing the matter in his

mind. And he took hold of his arm, and drew him in a direction opposite

from the school. "Come! you are just the boy I want. I was thinking about

you the moment before I saw you."

The temptation to Charles was very strong. "I don't believe I will be found

out," he said to himself; "and it is such a pleasant day to go into the

woods!"

Still he held back, and thought of his father's displeasure if he should

discover that he had played the truant. The word "truant," that he repeated

mentally, decided the matter in his mind, and he exclaimed, in a loud and

decided voice, as he dragged away from the hand of Archy, that had still

retained its hold on his arm, "I've never played truant yet, and I don't

think I ever will. Father says he never played truant when he was a boy;

and I'd like to say the same thing when I get to be a man."

"Nonsense, Charley! come, go with me," urged Archy.

But Charles Murray's mind was made up not to play the truant. So he started

off for school, saying, as he did so--

"No, I can't go, Archy; and if I were you, I would wait until Saturday. You

will enjoy it so much better when you have your fathers consent. It always

takes away more than half the pleasure of any enjoyment to think that it is

obtained at the cost of disobedience. Come! go to school with me now, and I

will go into the woods with you on Saturday."

"No, I can't wait until Saturday. I'm sure it will rain by that time; and

if it don't, the hogs will eat up every nut that has fallen before that

time."

"There'll be plenty left on the trees, if they do. It's as fine sport to

knock them down as to pick them up."

But Archy's purpose was settled, and nothing that Charles Murray could say

had any influence with him. So the boys parted, the one for his school, and

the other for a stolen holiday in the woods.

The moment Charles was alone again, he felt no longer any desire to go with

Archy. He had successfully resisted the temptation, and the allurement was

gone. But even for listening to temptation he had some small punishment,

for he was late to school by nearly ten minutes, and had not his lessons as

perfect as usual, for which the teacher felt called upon to reprimand him.

But this was soon forgotten; and he was so good a boy through the whole

day, and studied all his lessons so diligently, that when evening came, the

teacher, who had not forgotten the reprimand, said to him:

"You have been the best boy in the school to-day, Charles. To-morrow

morning try and come in time, and be sure that your lessons are all well

committed to memory."

Charles felt very light and cheerful as he went running, skipping, and

singing homeward. His day had been well spent, and happiness was his

reward. When he came in sight of home, there was no dread of meeting his

father and mother, such as he would have felt if he had played the truant.

Every thing looked bright and pleasant, and when Juno came bounding out to

meet him, he couldn't help hugging the favorite dog in the joy he felt at

seeing her.

When Charles met his mother, she looked at him with a more earnest and

affectionate gaze than usual. And then the boy noticed that her countenance

became serious.

"Ain't you well, mother?" asked Charles.

"Yes, my dear, I am very well," she replied; "but I saw something an hour

ago which has made me feel sad. Archy Benton was brought home from the

woods this afternoon, where he had gone for chestnuts, instead of going to

school, as he should have done, dreadfully hurt. He had fallen from a tree.

Both his arms are broken, and the doctor fears that he has received some

inward injury that may cause his death."

Charles turned pale, when his mother said this.

"Boys rarely get hurt, except when they are acting disobediently, or doing

some harm to others," remarked Mrs Murray. "If Archy had gone to school,

this dreadful accident would not have happened. His father told him that he

might go for chestnuts on Saturday, and if he had waited until then, I am

sure he might have gone into the woods and received no harm, for all who do

right are protected from evil."

"He tried to persuade me to go with him," said Charles, "and I was strongly

tempted to do so. But I resisted the temptation, and have felt glad about

it ever since."

Mrs Murray took her son's hand, and pressing it hard, said, with much

feeling,

"How rejoiced I am that you were able to resist his persuasions to do

wrong. Even if you had not been hurt yourself, the injury received by Archy

would have discovered to us that you were with him, and then how unhappy

your father and I would have been I cannot tell. And you would have been

unhappy, too. Ah! my son, there is only one true course for all of us, and

that is, to do right. Every deviation from this path brings trouble. An act

of a moment may make us wretched for days, weeks, months, or perhaps years.

It will be a long, long time before Archy is free from pain of body or

mind--it may be that he will never recover. Think how miserable his parents

must feel; and all because of this single act of disobedience."

We cannot say how often Charles said to himself, that evening and the next

day, when he thought of Archy, "Oh, how glad I am that I did not go with

him!"

When Saturday came, the father and mother of Charles Murray gave him

permission to go into the woods for chestnuts. Two or three other boys, who

were his school companions, likewise received liberty to go; and they

joined Charles, and altogether made a pleasant party. It did not rain, nor

had the hogs eaten up all the nuts, for the lads found plenty under the

tall old trees, and in a few hours filled their bags and baskets. Charles

said, when he came home, that he had never enjoyed himself better, and was

so glad that he had not been tempted to go with Archy Benton.

It was a lesson he never afterward forgot. If he was tempted to do what he

knew was wrong, he thought of Archy's day in the woods, and the tempter

instantly left him. The boy who had been so badly hurt, did not die, as the

doctor feared; but he suffered great pain, and was ill for a long time.

Wreaths of Friendship: A Gift for the Young · 第 11 / 84 题