Front Cover
 Title Page
 Chapter I: A ship at last
 Chapter II: Going home
 Chapter III: Adelaide row
 Chapter IV: Good resolutions not...
 Chapter V: Turning over a...
 Chapter VI: Going out to tea
 Chapter VII: A sad birthday
 Chapter VIII: Down the mine
 Chapter IX: Not alone
 Chapter X: A new friend
 Chapter XI: Sorrow, humiliation,...
 Back Cover

Title: Charlie Scott, or, There's time enough
Full Citation
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00015579/00001
 Material Information
Title: Charlie Scott, or, There's time enough
Alternate Title: There's time enough
Physical Description: 79 p., 1 leaf of plates : ill. (some col.) ; 17 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Religious Tract Society (Great Britain) ( Publisher )
J. & W. Rider ( Printer )
Publisher: Religious Tract Society
Place of Publication: London
Manufacturer: J. and W. Rider
Publication Date: [187-?]
Subject: Christian life -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Procrastination -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Children and death -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Drowning -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Orphans -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Adopted children -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Onlays (Binding) -- 1875   ( rbbin )
Pictorial cloth bindings (Binding) -- 1875   ( rbbin )
Bldn -- 1875
Genre: Onlays (Binding)   ( rbbin )
Pictorial cloth bindings (Binding)   ( rbbin )
novel   ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage: England -- London
Funding: Brittle Books Program
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00015579
Volume ID: VID00001
Source Institution: University of Florida
Holding Location: Baldwin Library of Historical Children's Literature in the Department of Special Collections and Area Studies, George A. Smathers Libraries, University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved, Board of Trustees of the University of Florida.
Resource Identifier: aleph - 002219450
oclc - 24365788
notis - ALF9632

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Front Cover 1
        Front Cover 2
        Page 1
    Title Page
        Page 2
    Chapter I: A ship at last
        Page 3
        Page 4
        Page 5
        Page 6
        Page 7
    Chapter II: Going home
        Page 8
        Page 9
        Page 10
        Page 11
        Page 12
        Page 13
    Chapter III: Adelaide row
        Page 14
        Page 15
        Page 16
        Page 17
        Page 18
    Chapter IV: Good resolutions not kept
        Page 19
        Page 20
        Page 21
        Page 22
        Page 23
        Page 24
        Page 25
        Page 26
        Page 27
    Chapter V: Turning over a new leaf
        Page 28
        Page 29
        Page 30
        Page 31
        Page 32
        Page 33
        Page 34
        Page 35
    Chapter VI: Going out to tea
        Page 36
        Page 37
        Page 38
        Page 39
        Page 40
        Page 41
        Page 42
    Chapter VII: A sad birthday
        Page 43
        Page 44
        Page 45
        Page 46
        Page 47
        Page 48
        Page 49
        Page 50
        Page 51
        Page 52
    Chapter VIII: Down the mine
        Page 53
        Page 54
        Page 55
        Page 56
        Page 57
        Page 58
        Page 59
    Chapter IX: Not alone
        Page 60
        Page 61
        Page 62
        Page 63
        Page 64
        Page 65
    Chapter X: A new friend
        Page 66
        Page 67
        Page 68
        Page 69
        Page 70
    Chapter XI: Sorrow, humiliation, and repentance
        Page 71
        Page 72
        Page 73
        Page 74
        Page 75
        Page 76
        Page 77
        Page 78
        Page 79
        Page 80
    Back Cover
        Back Cover 1
        Back Cover 2
Full Text

V -








" T HIs has been a hard month for me," thought
Morley Scott, the pilot, as he stood shading
his eyes from the sun, and gazing anxiously
out at sea. He hoped to have caught a glimpse of
ships in the distance, for the winds had been very
contrary lately. Many ships had been obliged to
pass by the harbour, unable to get in, and the pilots
had found very little to do.
"That looks well," he thought, brightening up,
as he saw a busy little steam-tug puffing along with
a ship in tow; he knew a pilot would soon be
wanted to bring it safely into the docks. He had
not stood many minutes, trying to make out the
ship, when he heard his name called, and turning
round, he saw a boy running towards him.


"Here's the Refuge at last, Morley Scott," said
the boy; "they want you on board directly, be-
cause they are coming in to-night."
Morley Scott put his hand in his pocket, and
gave the lad the customary sixpence for his good
tidings. It's almost the last," he said with a
smile, pointing to the sixpence; "but still the news
is cheap at that."
"I should think it is," said the boy, as he ran
off laughing.
Morley Scott walked quickly along the pier until
1e came up to a row of boys, who were sitting on
the edge of the wall, fishing. He stood for a
moment to watch them with an expression of
amusement in his good-natured face. They sat
perfectly still, afraid to speak or move, and scarcely
daring to breathe, lest they should frighten away
the fish; each boy watching his own and his neigh-
bour's line with feverish anxiety. Suddenly one
little fellow, in a state of great excitement, began
tugging at his line.
"Now then, Charlie Scott," called a big boy,
who seemed to be the head of the party, what are
you pulling in that line for again ? That is the
third time in less than ten minutes; how is it
likely we can catch anything ? "
All the boys joined in a low chorus of "Yes,
indeed!" "A pretty fellow he is to fish Serves
us right for letting him come with us." The fact
was, the boys had been very unsuccessful that
afternoon; they had taken nothing, and it was a
relief to have some one to lay the blame upon.
I am sure there's something this time, though,"


said Charlie, still pulling away. His manner was
so confident, that the boys became interested in spite
of themselves, and several nearly lost their balance,
craning out their necks to see beyond each other.
At last up came the hook, with a jerk that sent
Charlie backwards; it had been entangled in a large
piece of seaweed, that gave way suddenly just as
he got it to the surface. "It's very strange," he
said, as he examined the hook minutely, longing to
find something alive, no matter how small. "It's
very strange ; I'm always feeling something, and
yet I never catch anything."
I tell you what it is, young Scott, if you don't
mind what you're about, you'll both feel something
and catch something soon that you won't like, per-
haps,", grumbled the big boy.
Here, Charlie," called Morley Scott, seeing
there was likely to be a quarrel, I want you to run
on an errand for me."
Charlie looked round, and seeing his father, he
jumped up readily. To tell the truth, he was not
sorry of the excuse to give up his fishing; he had
been thoroughly tired of it for the last quarter of an
hour, although he did not like to own it to the
other boys. He was a bright, happy-looking little
fellow, about eight years of age, with light, waving
hair, merry blue eyes, and sunburnt face.
"What is it, father ? he asked.
I want you to run and find uncle John; tell
him that the Refuge is lying off at sea, waiting for
us. Ask him to come with you, because they want
to be into the docks to-night."
Away ran Charlie with his message, and soon


returned with uncle John. All three then made
their way to the docks, where a number of small
boats were moored.
Do take me with you, father," pleaded Charlie,
as the two men jumped into one of the boats and
prepared to push off.
No, no, Charlie, not this time," said his father;
"remember you have your lessons to learn ; besides,
I dare say you have not had your tea."
"Oh, I can learn my lessons when I come back,
and I've got a large bun here," he said, lifting up
his jacket to show it; uncle John bought it for
me as we came along. Please do let me go, it's so
miserable now, when you are away; I never like to
go home, Mrs. Wood is so cross."
"Well, jump in then," said his father, with a
sigh; he knew how the boy missed his kind, gentle
mother. She had been dead nearly six months, and
since then Charlie and he seemed to have been with-
out a home. When his wife died Morley Scott
scarcely knew what to do for the best. He had no
relation who could take charge of Charlie and of
his house, so he thought it would be best to sell his
furniture and go to lodgings. It seems he had not
been very fortunate in his choice, for according to
Charlie's account Mrs. Wood, the landlady, was
often ill-tempered.
The two men took their oars, and began to pull
in the direction of the ship that was lying out some
distance from the harbour. Charlie had found
himself a snug little corner in the stern of the
boat, and was enjoying himself thoroughly in a
quiet way, catching at the bits of floating seaweed


and chips, spreading his fingers out like the arches
of a miniature bridge, and letting the water rush
through them, occasionally munching at his huge
bun by way of variation.
For a wonder Charlie's busy tongue was still; he
saw by his father's countenance that he was not in
a mood for talking. It wore a troubled, saddened
expression; he was living over the old sorrow that
Charlie's words had called up. His uncle, too,
seemed in deep thought, and rowed on in silence;
although they were unconscious of it, perhaps, there
is no doubt that all three felt the influence of that
beautiful calm summer evening.
The rich hues of the setting sun were gradually
fading out from the sky, yet wonderful shades of
crimson, rose colour, and gold, still lingered lovingly
amongst the clouds, and rested upon the waters.
All the bustle of the town had been left far be-
hind; there was nothing to break the silence but
the measured plash of the oars, and the soft rippling
and murmuring of the water as the little boat rode
lightly over the waves.
As Charlie gazed up at the glorious sky, he
began to wonder where the sun went to every night,
and how it was that there were always such lovely
colours in the sky just where it disappeared ; at
last he came to the conclusion that the sun went into
heaven, and that beautiful golden and rose-coloured
.light streamed out when the door was opened.
Charlie liked this idea so much, that he was quite
disappointed when he learned afterwards that it
was not the case.
What a grand place heaven must be !" thought


Charlie, remembering what he had heard at Sun-
day school. "How splendid God's angels must
look, floating about in that beautiful light, with
their white robes and crowns of gold i" Charlie
went on thinking and thinking much in the same
strain, until at last the ship was neared.
Morley Scott brought in his oars with a sudden
movement, and springing up in the boat, hailed
the ship, "Refuge ahoy!"


ST is more than hour since we left Morley Scott
bailing the Refuge. How is it that the ship
has not been moved yet I And here is the
little boat turned homeward, and strangers have
the charge of it.
Is Charlie asleep, that he lies there so pale and
still? he has not moved once since we looked.
And that something lying in the boat, covered by
a ship's colour, what can it be? The night air is
damp and chill, and the sea looks grey and deadly
in the twilight.
One of the sailors leans forward to look at
Charlie. "Poor little one," he murmurs, in a kind
but sad tone.
"I wish we were yonder," said the other sailor,
moving his head in the direction of the town. "I
don't like the look of that boy at all; it may only


be fainting, but it looks to me more like death than
anything else."
It was almost dark when they reached the
"You stay with the boat," said the sailor who
spoke just before, "and I'll go up into the town
and see about help."
A man who had noticed their arrival sauntered
up, curious to know if anything was the matter.
Morley Scott and his brother are drowned."
In answer to the man's anxious questions, the
sailor told him that when Scott's boat came along-
side the ship a rope was thrown to them as usual to
be made fast, and, unfortunately, both Scott and
his brother sprang forward to catch it; the boat
gave a violent lurch, and in a moment they were
plunged into the sea, Morley Scott's head striking
the ship's side as he fell. His brother was never
seen again; they supposed he must have come
up underneath the ship, and so met certain death.
Morley Scott's body they recovered, and had
brought with them in the boat.
The sad news that two men had been drowned
soon spread, and before long many anxious, awe-
stricken faces were gazing down into the boat at
the object which lay terribly still, covered by the
ship's colour.
When poor little Charlie was lifted up, many a
mother, with tears in her eyes, love in her heart,
and thoughts of the little ones at home, pressed
forward with offers to take the boy. One woman
was even more eager than the rest: "Let me have
him," she said; "he is like my own child that


I lost last year come back again," and trembling
with emotion, she took poor Charlie, who was still
unconscious, in her arms.
I'll carry him home for you, Mrs. Heedman,"
said one of the men, kindly ; "it's a good way to
your house, and you'd find him heavy before you
got there."
When Charlie awoke, as he thought, from sleep,
he found himself, to his great astonishment, in a
neat little bed with white curtains and counterpane.
A small table stood near, with a glass, and bottles
of medicine, such as he remembered to have seen
when his mother was ill; and opposite his bed
hung a picture of the finding of Moses.
It was very strange: Charlie rubbed his eyes,
thinking he could not be quite awake, surely, and
looked again; but the things were still there.
Then he tried to remember what happened before
he went to sleep, but his head felt so weak and
light that he could not think. He put his hand
out and felt the curtains; they were real enough.
Just as he was making up his mind that he would
try to sit up and look about the room, the door
was gently opened, and a pleasant face peeped in.
Charlie remembered at once that it was good, kind
Mrs. Heedman, who used to come and see his
mother when she was ill.
She seemed surprised and glad to see that he
knew her, and coming quickly up to him, gave him
a kiss, put his pillow to rights, and told him he
must not get up yet.
I feel very tired, Mrs. Heedman," said Charlie
languidly; have I been asleep long 1"


You have been very ill, dear," she answered,
gently, "so ill that you did not know any one for
a few days. Are you glad I brought you here to
this nice little bed, to take care of you? "
"Oh yes, thank you," said Charlie, earnestly.
Mrs. Heedman saw that he was thinking and trying
to remember something, so to change the current of
his thoughts she poured out his medicine, and
handed it to him. "Now drink this up, like a
good boy," she said, then I will bring you some
beef tea soon."
Charlie rather unwillingly, and with a wry face,
drank the mixture. As he gave her back the glass,
his eye rested on a picture that had been hidden
before by the curtain; it was a ship and some small
boats at sea. In a moment the something that he
had been trying to remember flashed upon him, and
burying his face in the pillow to shut out the pic-
ture, he sobbed out, Oh, father, father "
Mrs. Heedman stood quietly by, waiting until
the first burst of grief was over, and asking in her
heart for the help of God's Holy Spirit to teach her
what she had best say to comfort him. Presently
the heavy sobs almost ceased; but Charlie did not
move or speak. She took his hand in hers
smoothing and caressing it, as if to assure him of
her sympathy.
Charlie dear," she said gently, "it is very sad,
and very hard to bear, is it not ? Charlie did not
speak. She sat down beside him, still keeping his
hand in hers, and went on speaking.
"Lastyear, when my own dear little boy died-
you remember Tom, don't you, Charlie? Well,


when he was taken from me, I thought my heart
would have broken; it seemed as if I should never
be happy again. I felt sad and ill, and weary of
everything, just as you feel now." Charlie turned
towards her, and looked interested. "For some
weeks I was very unhappy, and thought no one
had such a trouble as mine; but afterwards I
learned how wrong it was of me to find fault with
God's will; and when I began to count up all the
blessings I had received, and remembered all that
my dear Lord Jesus Christ had done and suffered
for me, I felt sure that He who loved me so much
would not let me suffer any pain or sorrow that was
not necessary for my good."
Charlie was listening attentively; he quite under-
stood all Mrs. Heedman said. His mother had
often read to him out of the Bible, and spoken to
him of the Saviour.
Mrs. Heedman went on: You must remember,
Charlie, that you are now one of God's very dear
children. We are all His children, but He has
especial love and care for those whom He has been
obliged to leave without any earthly parents. God
promises in His own holy book, the Bible, that He
will be 'a Father to the fatherless;' that He will
relieve the fatherless; that He will help the father-
less; and that if the fatherless cry unto Him, He
will surely hear their cry. When you are stronger,
I will find the passages and read them to you, and
many others that are very comforting. Now it is
quite time that you had your beef tea; I will get it
for you, and then we can talk again."
Charlie thought the beef tea was delicious; he


was already beginning to feel that relish for savoury
food that most fever patients experience when they
are recovering.
It's very nice," he kept repeating; and every
now and then Mrs. Heedman met his blue eyes
gazing into hers with a thoughtful, inquiring sort of
look. At last he said, "Mrs. Heedman, do you
think it was God who put it into your heart to
bring me here and be so kind to me ?"
"Yes, Charlie, I am sure of it."
"Then I'm quite sure that God loves me," said
Charlie, energetically. "I can't help crying when
I think about father," as he burst into another flood
of tears; "but," he added, "I will try not to think
any more that it was not kind of God to let him be
drowned and leave me by myself. I was thinking
so a little while since;" and dropping his voice, he
went on, I want you, please, to tell me all about
it-where father is, and uncle John. I saw them
lift some one out of the water, dead, but I forget
what happened after."
Mrs. Heedman told him as gently and as kindly
as she could about his father's funeral; who arranged
it, and where he was buried, and that his uncle's
body had not been found. "When you are better,
Charlie, we will go and see the grave, and you shall
set some flowers on it."
"When I am a man," burst in Charlie, I shall
buy a beautiful tombstone for it."
"Very well," said Mrs. Heedman, getting up.
"Now you must try to sleep a little. How very
good and merciful God has been to you, Charlie, to
spare your life in this illness If it is His will,


I trust I shall be able day by day to teach you how
to devote the life He has given you to His service."
Am I going to be with you always, Mrs. Heed-
man ?" cried Charlie, opening his eyes very wide.
"Yes, I hope so," she answered. After a little
more talking, principally on Charlie's side, who
confided to- her his private opinion of the cross
Mrs. Wood, and his pleasure to think he was not
going back to her any more, Mrs. Heedman left the
room, and Charlie went to sleep.



HE house of the Heedmans was the end
cottage of a long row, built for and occu-
pied by the miners employed at the colliery
that you might see in the distance. There were
several rows of these cottages, but Adelaide Row,
in which the Heedmans lived, was certainly the
best in appearance. It was farthest from the mines,
and was sheltered from the coal dust by its less
fortunate neighbours. The houses looked cleaner
and brighter altogether, and the little gardens
flourished better.
John Heedman's garden was the pride of his
heart, and the admiration and envy of the rest of
"the Row." It certainly did look very gay and
pretty. There were bright China-asters, sweet-


scented stocks, French marigolds, rose bushes laden
with blossoms, little clusters of candytuft, Virginia-
stock, mignonette, and many other flowers, con-
trasting well in colour, and grouped in such good
If John Heedman took a pride in his garden,
Mrs. Heedman certainly took a pride in her house.
Not that their furniture was more expensive than
that of many of their neighbours, but it was in
good order and neatly arranged. Nice white cur-
tains were up at the windows; a few sweet-smelling
flowers stood in a glass; and in a corner were
some bookshelves, made and painted by John
Heedman himself, after work-hours, and very well
stocked with good books; altogether there was an
air of cleanliness, comfort, and refinement over all
that made you wish to know the owners.
Mrs. Heedman often said in answer to herneigh-
bours' remarks "that she must spend a deal of
money over her house."-" It costs me nothing
but a little thought and extra work. The poorest
of us may indulge in order and cleanliness indeed,
when you come to think of it, dirt and disorder
cost the most, because your furniture gets soiled,
and knocked about, and destroyed."
After Mrs. Heedman left Charlie, she began to
prepare her husband's tea in the next room; and
nicely she looked, as she moved lightly about in
her clean light-print dress and white collar, her
dark hair smoothly and plainly arranged, and a
smile on her face. It was a face that made you
look twice. Her eyes were so calm, so full of
peace, you felt instinctively it was that peace which


God alone can give. Some people do not'believe
that Christianity can make them happy; that is,
because they have never felt it in their hearts. It is
a peace which passeth all understanding. She was
thinking of Charlie; how he would learn to love
her, and please God; what a scholar he would be,
and how carefully she would train him. She was
trying to picture what he would be like if he
lived to grow up, when John Heedman opened the
Tea will be ready in a minute, John," she said,
looking up; "I've been sitting with that dear
child, and the afternoon has flown I scarcely know
how. He got a turn for the better about one
o'clock, and woke up quite conscious and sensible ;"
and stepping softly to the door, she beckoned him
to follow. They both stood looking at Charlie as
he slept. He was very pale, traces of tears were
still on his face, and one little thin white hand hung
listlessly over the side of the bed. John Heedman
stooped and touched it gently with his own rough,
strong hand. Poor little one !" he murmured.
That night, as John Heedman and his wife sat at
tea, they determined to adopt Charlie, and make
him as their own.
I think," said John Heedman, we ought to ac-
cept this child as a sacred charge from God, sent to us
to be taken care of and trained for Him. Our duty
seems plain enough; it is true we shall not be
able to save so much, but perhaps there was a
danger of our getting too fond of our bit of money;
and God has seen this and sent the child, that,
through it we may lend the money to Him. We


shall have our treasure in heaven, instead of laying
it up bn earth."
That is true," said Mrs. Heedman. "We shall
be no poorer for what we spend on the child; and as
for our old age, we will trust to the Lord-He
will provide."
In a week's time Charlie was able to sit up; his
favourite seat was at the open window, looking out
into the pretty garden. He would sit for hours
watching the gay butterflies and busy bees, roving
from flower to flower, and gazing up at the ever-chang-
ing sky. The soft, fleecy clouds that sailed along
so gracefully, Charlie liked to think were the robes
of angels on their way to heaven with little children.
In a few weeks' time, to his great joy, he was
strong enough to go back to school; he was fond
of learning, and the Heedmans were anxious for
him to have as much schooling as they could pos-
sibly afford.
John Heedman had enjoyed a good plain educa-
tion himself; he was intended for a tradesman, but
his father died suddenly, and his mother and young
sister being left dependent upon him, he went to
work down the mine, as the wages were higher
than he could get at any other employment. It
was a great disappointment and trial to him, you
may be sure; but he very wisely made the best of
it, and thought to himself, "Well, if I am only to
be a miner all my life, it does not follow that I
need neglect my learning: it will always give me
pleasure, and occupy my mind; and I shall be
serving God better by improving myself, and using
the powers He has given me."


He carried out this idea, and became a thoughtful,
intelligent, well-informed man, respected both by
his employers and fellow-workmen, and, what was
better than all, he found favour in the sight of
God. By the grace of God he was led to feel him-
self a poor sinner, and sought forgiveness through
the precious blood of Christ. For a long while he
groped in the dark, with the burden on his shoul-
ders ; but reading one day that passage in the third
chapter of John,-" For God so loved the world,
that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever
believeth in Him should not perish, but have ever-
lasting life. For God sent not His Son into the
world to condemn the world; but that the world
through Him might be saved," the light burst upon
his mind, his prayers were answered, and he became
an earnest Christian, a faithful soldier and servant
of the Lord Jesus Christ; and he was rewarded-
not with any great earthly riches, but with much
peace in his heart, with great strength and comfort
in time of trial; with home happiness, and much
that might have made him the envy of princes, who
had shut themselves out from the love of God.
He made the good choice in his youth. He
sought the Lord early, and found him, and He
escaped the terrible anguish and suffering that
attends repentance after a long life of careless sin.
All through life he had the love of the Saviour
to help and cheer him on his way ; in temptation
he had God to look to for strength; in sorrow he
had the Saviour to turn to for sympathy and help.
Each night he asked forgiveness for the sins of the
day, and each morning he sought a blessing and pre-


servation, and went forth with a light heart, praising
God, and full of thankfulness to Him for His
There was no anxious care for the future, in his
heart he knew that his heavenly Father would guide
him and care for him day by day.
It seems most unaccountable that any one should
willingly refuse all this happiness; and yet how
many boys and girls there are who never pause to
think what choice they have made, and which
master they are serving. You must be serving one,
either God or the world. Which it is your own
heart will tell you. Remember God will have no
half-service. He has said, "He that is not with
Me is against Me."



SOU, years of Charlie's life soon passed
swiftly away in his pleasant and happy
home. He is now twelve years of age, and
has grown a tall, strong, healthy boy. His blue
eyes are just as merry, and his frank, fearless face
as sunburnt, as when we first made his acquaintance
on the pier. He is generous, grateful, and affection-
ate, and John Heedman and his wife-his good
" father and mother," as he calls them now--are
very dear to him.
I need scarcely tell you that they have never


regretted adopting him, and could not love him
better, or be more proud of him, if he were their
own son. They have found him from the first
clever at his learning, and painstaking; full of
gratitude and love to themselves; honest and
truthful; anxious to serve God, and really trying
to do so in his way. But one thing has troubled
them : for the last two years they have seen him
gradually giving himself up more and more to the
dangerous habit of putting off." He had become,
unconsciously, a very slave to it ; it required quite
an effort on his part to do any duty at once.
Perhaps some boys who read this are inclined to
exclaim, "Was that all ?" But if they think for
a moment, I am sure they will see that it is
very dangerous, because they are inclined to think
lightly of it.
Procrastination, or the habit of putting off,"
is one of Satan's great temptations. Many a boy
may be tempted to give way to it who would shrink
from telling an untruth, or committing any flagrant
sin; but Satan knows well enough how soon and
how surely it will lead them into sin.
Unfortunately, Charlie had no idea how this
habit was creeping upon him; he always contrived
to find some excuse for putting off that satisfied
himself if it did not satisfy others; and when it
led him to do wrong, or into misfortune of any kind,
he always fancied that something or some one else
was to blame.
"Charlie," said Mrs. Heedman one morning,
just before school-time, "did you learn your lessons
last night 1"


"No, mother," answered Charlie; "I can learn
them this morning; there's time enough."
"Do get your books then, and begin; you
have only a quarter of an hour."
"All right, mother dear," he answered, gaily;
"I'll get them in a minute; there's time enough;"
but Charlie was very much interested in teaching
his dog Jumper to sit up, and kept putting off
until at last the quarter of an hour was gone, and
he found he had only just time to get to school.
Grumbling at the time for flying so quickly, he
snatched up one of his school books, threw his
satchel with the rest over his shoulder, and started
off at a quick pace, learning his lesson as he went.
Of course he could not always look where he was
going, and the consequence was he knocked up
against people, and trod on their toes, and so far
from apologizing in his ill-humour, he declared to
himself that "it served them right; why didn't
they get out of his way 1"'
The clock struck nine : Charlie was desperate;
he quickened his pace almost to a run, and taking
a last glance at his lesson as he turned the corner,
he came with a crash against a lamp-post, that sent
him backwards, his book flying out of his hand, his
forehead bruised, and his nose bleeding.
Poor Charlie sat on the ground almost stunned,
and scarcely knowing for the moment what it was,
or where he was. At last he got slowly up, gathered
his books together, and turned towards home, hold-
ing his handkerchief to his bruised face, and feeling
very miserable.
It was all that stupid old lamp-post, mother "


he said angrily, when he was telling his tale to
No, no, Charlie," said Mrs. Heedman ; "was
it not that stupid Charlie Scott, who did not look
where he was going ?"
It was no use going to school that morning. The
bruises were doctored, and Charlie, after learning
his lessons, took up an interesting book. He was
fond of reading, and was soon deep in the contents.
"Just run into Mrs. Brown's, next door, Charlie,
will you, and ask if she can let me have the bread
tin I lent her yesterday," said Mrs. Heedman.
"Yes, mother, in a minute," answered Charlie,
still reading on, and thinking, "There's time
enough; I dare say the bread is not ready." After
a short time she spoke again, Come, Charlie, I'm
"Yes, mother, I'm coming," said Charlie, getting
half off his chair, but still keeping his eyes on the
book "I'll just finish this chapter," he thought;
there were only two sentences to read. When it
was finished, he looked up, and saw his mother had
gone herself for the tin. She came in, looking
weary and tired, for she had had a busy morning,
and Charlie's conscience smote him.
"Oh, mother, I'm so sorry," he exclaimed. I
thought I had time enough to finish the chapter."
"Charlie, I do wish you would learn to do a
thing at once. I cannot bear to hear you so con-
stantly saying 'There's time enough,' said his
mother; "it makes me tremble for your future.
A cousin of mine was led into sin, and misery, and
poverty, and at last died at enmity with his father,


and unreconciled to God, through 'putting off.'
He gave way to the habit when he was a boy, and
it grew up with him unchecked."
Charlie was rather frightened at hearing this, and
inwardly made some good resolutions; but as they.
were made in his own strength alone, you will not
be surprised to hear they were soon swept away:
however, he made, as he thought, a very fair begin-
ning. When he was called to dinner, he laid down
his book and went at once-I am afraid there was
not much credit due to him for that, for he was
very hungry,-and he got ready and set off in good
time for afternoon school.
Be sure you come straight home, Charlie," said
Mrs. Heedman as he was going out; "your father's
cough was worse this morning, and I want you to
run along to the pit with some warm wrappings
for him; the evenings are chilly now, and he feels
the cold when he comes up."
"All right, mother dear, I'll not forget," said
Charlie, waving his cap to her as he went out of
the gate. He was in an extra good humour with
himself for having made the good resolutions we
told you of, and for having done so well since,
quite forgetting that even the desire to do better came
from God.
The moment school was over, one of the boys
caught hold of Charlie's arm, and launched into a
glowing description of a ship "nearly two feet
long," that had been made a present to him,
finishing off with "She's splendid, and that's just
all about it. I am going now to name her, and
launch her in that big pond in Thompson's field.


Come along," he said, drawing Charlie in the
direction of the field as he spoke; you shall give
her the name, and I'll launch her."
"I'm afraid I can't go," said Charlie, looking
miserable, and making a faint effort to get his arm
from Tom Brown's grasp.
"Why ?" asked Tom.
"Because I promised to go straight home; and
I have to take some clothes for father to the pit."
"Oh, that's it, is it exclaimed Tom. "Well,
then, look here, your father won't be ready for nearly
half an hour yet-I know what time they come up,
-and you'll be wandering about there, cooling your
heels, when you might as well be here."
If I hadn't promised," thought Charlie, with a
longing look in the direction of the pond.
"You needn't stay long," urged Tom. "The
ship is close by; I hid her amongst some bushes
so as not to have to go home again."
"Don't go; remember your promise," whispered
Charlie's conscience. But I want to go so much,"
answered Charlie's selfish little heart.
"Don't go, it would be ungrateful: think of your
father's kindness to you," whispered the voice
again. "I'm not ungrateful, and I mean to take
the clothes," Charlie's heart answered, angrily.
The voice began to whisper again.something about
it being a temptation, and he ought to ask God's
help, but Charlie turned a deaf ear.
Tom Brown, seeing Charlie hesitate, felt pretty
sure he would give in. Leaving loose of his arm,
and moving off towards the field, he said, in a
careless tone, "Come, make up your mind; do one

J" ~i


"~- ;i~r
-~:-i~'l .41~~~

.i-i .



thing or the other. I don't care whether you go
or not, only I can tell you you'll not have such a
chance again; Joe Denton would have jumped at
This had just the effect Tom intended. Charlie
hurried after him, saying, "Well, let us be quick
then. I'll just stay five minutes; I dare say there's
time enough."
The scruples of Charlie's conscience were silenced.
Conscience is a dangerous thing to play with, and
it should be the prayer of every youth that God
would strengthen him to keep his conscience tender;
never mind if it be difficult sometimes to maintain
a good conscience : in the end, as years go on, you
will be thankful to find that it preserves from many
a snare, and gives a pleasure, and gains the confi-
dence of those around you.
The launching went off most successfully, but
the time had flown much quicker than the boys had
any idea of. Charlie was in full enjoyment of the
honour of guiding the Fairy on her trial trip round
the pond, when he was terribly startled at hearing
the church clock strike five. In a moment he had
dropped the string, caught up his satchel of books,
and started off towards home.
"Here, I say, wait a bit," called Tom after him;
"what's the use of hurrying now? Your father
would be at home long since ; you may as well stay
another hour now." Charlie did not even stay to
listen, but tore along the dusty road, angry with
himself, and still more angry with Tom. He
reached home out of breath, and found that his
father and mother had just begun tea.


Charlie, my boy, you're late," said his father, in
his usual kind tone. His mother did not speak,
and Charlie noticed that she looked sad; but she
was as kind as ever, and picked out one of his
favourite little well-browned cakes for him as he
sat down to tea. Charlie felt unhappy and repent-
ant as he thought how ill he deserved all their care.
His father's cough was very troublesome; it was
a loud, hollow, consumptive cough, most painful to
hear, and still more painful to suffer; but not a
word of complaint escaped John Heedman's lips.
Charlie's unhappiness and repentance increased as
he sat listening to it, and heard his father say, in
answer to a remark made by Mrs. Heedman, Yes,
I think the cold air has seized my chest; that makes
the cough worse just now."
Tea was out of the question with Charlie, and
the little crisp cake lay untouched. If they would
only scold me, or punish me, or do something to
me," he thought, "I should feel better."
How is it you are not getting on with your tea ?"
said Mrs. Heedman, looking at his plate.
Charlie immediately laid his head on the table,
regardless of tea-things and everything else, and
burst into a flood of tears. Oh, mother," he
sobbed out, I have been such a bad, wicked fellow
to-day. Why don't you and father scold me or do
something to me ? you are far too kind; it makes
me hate myself. I wish somebody would take
away my new cricket bat, or steal Jumper, I do."
There was a great sobbing after this, partly, we
think, at the mere thought of the terrible nature
of the punishment his imagination had suggested.


He went on-" I'm sure I meant to come
straight home, but Tom Brown took and persuaded
me to go and see his ship launched, and I only
meant to stay five minutes, and I thought there was
time enough, and it seemed as if the clock struck five
directly. I'm so sorry-oh dear and down went
his head on the table again.
I'm very sorry too," said John Heedman,
seriously-" very sorry. I am afraid when you
were making your good resolutions about coming
straight home, you forgot that you might be tempted
to break them, and did not ask for His help who
alone can give you strength to resist temptation and
choose duty before pleasure. Don't you remember
the words, My son, if sinners entice thee, consent
thou not,' and the exhortation to pray lest ye enter
into temptation I Wipe away your tears now, and
get some tea; we will talk about it afterwards."


SHARLIE'S heart felt a little lighter for the
explanation. When the tea-things were
Cleared away, and a nice little bright fire
made up-for it was a chilly evening-Mrs. Heed-
man sat down to her needlework, and Charlie drew
his chair close to his father's, waiting for him to
Taking Charlie's hand in his, he began in a kind


tone, "I want you to tell me just how you felt
while Tom Brown was persuading you, as you call it,
to go with him."
"Well," said Charlie, hesitatingly, "I felt I
wanted to go very much, and I thought I would
only stay five minutes, there would still be plenty
of time to meet you; and something in my heart
kept on whispering, Don't go;' but I did go, you
know," he went on, in a saddened tone, "and then
the little voice did not whisper again."
Now," said his father, you must think well,
and tell me what sins your sad way of thinking
there's time enough has led you to be guilty of
in one short hour."
Charlie thought a moment, and then answered,
without looking up, Disobedience and ingratitude."
Yes," said his father; but there is one more-
presumption. You know quite well, Charlie, that
warning voice in your heart was placed there by
God to teach and guide you; yet you would not
listen; you turned a deaf ear; you knew better
than the great God who made you; you put your
own'will before His, and treated His Holy Spirit
with contempt. It is a most solemn and awful
thought that God's Holy Spirit will not always
strive with us."
"What a terrible fate! exclaimed Mrs. Heed-
man, "to be left entirely at the mercy not only of
the temptation of the world, but the sinful wishes
and inclinations of our own evil hearts !"
"Terrible indeed," said John Heedman. Now
listen here, Charlie: The captain of a ship was
warned by the pilot on board that the port that


they were making for was almost surrounded by
rocks, sandbanks, and other hidden dangers, and that
it would be certain shipwreck, sooner or later, for
the captain, as a stranger, to attempt the direction of
the vessel without the advice and guidance of the
pilot, who was aware of every danger, knew exactly
what was best to do, and could alone bring them
safely into the haven. What would you think,
Charlie, if I were to tell you that that captain, after
being warned of his danger, refused to allow the
pilot to help him, turned his back upon him, would
not listen to his advice, treated him with contempt,
and determined to take his own way; taking the
helm himself, and steering straight for the very
rocks he had been warned to avoid "
I should think he was mad," exclaimed Charlie.
"Not one bit more mad than those who risk
the shipwreck of their souls by refusing the help
and advice of the Holy Spirit in passing through
this world, so full of danger and temptation."
Oh, I see now, father; that is what my Sunday
school teacher calls an illustration."
"Yes," answered his father; "and now let us
have a little talk about there's time enough.' I
dare say you will be surprised when I tell you it is
really selfishness that makes you so fond of putting
Oh, mother I" said Charlie, quickly, "I didn't
think I was selfish. Do you think I am "
Mrs. Heedman could scarcely help smiling at his
tone of injured innocence. "I think I shall wait
and hear what your father has to say before I give
an answer."


John Heedman went on: "You remember, Charlie,
the Freneh marigolds we set, don't you 1"
"Yes, I do remember indeed; it was so odd,
mother, it was all the same sort of seed, but when
it grew up there was such a difference in the form
and shade of the flowers, we could scarcely find
two alike."
"Well, then, you will understand me when I tell
you that in the heart of every one there is the seed
of selfishness, which, as it grows, shows itself in a
different form in each person. In some it shows
itself as pride; in others as envy, greediness,
jealousy, covetousness, procrastination, indolence,
and so on. Every sin, if we trace it, we shall find
that it springs from the seed selfishness-from love
of self. It is love of self that makes us forget to
feel for others-careless, disobliging; indeed, it
would take me an hour-to go through the list of
evils that spring from that same love of self. Learn
these things, my boy, when you're young. People
seldom change their character and habits after they
get men and women. It is easier to bend this
twig than that tree in the road ; and as you place
it, so it will grow."
"What are we to do then, father ?" asked Charlie.
Ask God to help you to watch for it; and as
it sprouts up, keep cutting it down, trampling upon
it, and rooting it up, as you would some noxious
weed that threatened to spread over your garden,
smothering and stealing away the nourishment from
your flowers."
"What would you call the flowers of the heart,
father I" Charlie asked, with a smile.


"Faith, hope, charity, peace, love, gentleness,
goodness," answered his father, readily; "one can
imagine all these flowers, and many more, perhaps,
that I have not mentioned, clustering round the
fountain of prayer, depending upon it for their life;
and just as the crystal stream of the fountain must
ascend, before it can shower down its clouds of
glistening and refreshing spray upon the parched
and thirsty flowers round its brim, so prayer must
go up to heaven before it can bring down life and
strength to the flowers of our hearts."
I understand it all, father," said Charlie, for
he loved to work out illustrations, as he called it.
He went on, And if the fountain were neglected,
and ceased to flow, how soon the flowers would be
scorched up by the sun! they would droop, and
wither, and die. And so will the flowers of our
hearts if we neglect prayer."
"That is very well said, Charlie; but we must
take care not to be satisfied with just knowing all
this. We must have deeds, not words.' I hope
to-day has been a lesson to you that good resolu-
tions, made in your own strength, are of no use.
If the failure of to-day has not humbled you, and
shown you your own weakness, God's lesson has
been thrown away upon you. Let me see you make
a fresh beginning ; turn a new leaf over, and set to
work in earnest to overcome this darling fault of
yours, in the strength of the Lord-not in your
own. It will not be all plain walking along a
smooth road; you may often fall, through want of
trust, or some failing of your own : but do not be
discouraged remember 'the greatest honour consists,


not in never falling, but in rising every time we
fall.' You know how often we have watched the
tide rising, and how you wondered at first that it
did not come rolling on without any stoppage; but
then we noticed that although each wave fell back
a little, it gathered strength to come on with
redoubled energy much further up the beach than
it had reached before, often catching up some lovely
seaweed or shell in its backward course, to bring
with it and leave at our feet. Each time you fall,
then, remember the waves, and determine, with
God's help, to rise again, and reach a higher mark
in your onward course than you had attained before,
bringing with you increased humility, trust, and
love, to lay at your Saviour's feet."
Thank you, dear father; I will try indeed,"
said Charlie.
And now you had better learn your lessons;
after then you can amuse yourself as you like. I
don't think we have any locks or anything to oil or
put to rights to-night," said his father, with a smile,
so you had better have your new paint-box out,
I think."
" Mrs. Brown wants you to look at a lock in her
house to-morrow, Charlie; it will neither lock nor
unlock. And the bottle-jack has gone wrong; it
went off with such a noise when she was winding
it up yesterday: she wants you to see if you can
do anything to it."
Charlie's face crimsoned with pleasure: his great
delight was in locks, clocks, engines-anything
mechanical, in fact; but the only way in which he
could indulge his love for such things was in taking



off, oiling, putting to rights, and screwing on again
all the locks in their own house, or any of the
neighbours that would let him. As he often con-
quered refractory locks, he became quite of im-
portance in "' the Row," and was often sent for.
He had an old timepiece that some one had given
him, and would spend hours in taking it to pieces
and putting it together again; but he could not
prevail upon his mother to let him touch "the
The lessons were soon learned, and then Charlie
got to his painting. What a happy night he had,
cutting out pictures from some illustrated papers,
colouring them, and chattering incessantly, unless
he was putting in any particular touches that he
seemed to think required profound silence and
holding of the breath!
"There, mother !" he exclaimed, holding up in
triumph a picture of a very stylish lady that he had
finished, that's the way you should be dressed if
I had my way; isn't she a beauty "
She looks gay indeed, Charlie," said his mother,
smiling; but I'm afraid thiatstyle of dress would
not quite suit me. Let me see, what has she on ?
A bright blue dress, a scarlet cloak "-" Like Mrs.
Greenwell's, you know, mother," interrupted Charlie,
"and a blue bonnet with a green feather on it."
Wouldn't a blue feather or a black one have
looked better ? said his father, looking up from
his newspaper; "blue and green are not considered
pretty together."
Well, I don't know why they shouldn't, father."
Charlie felt touched at his taste being called into


question. The forget-me-nots, the bluebells, and
the blue hyacinths grow amongst green leaves and
grass, and I'm sure God would not have put them
there if they didn't look beautiful."
You have conquered me there, Charlie," said
his father, laughing; "still I am not reconciled to
the blue bonnet with the green feather."
When it was Charlie's bedtime, he gathered up
all the cuttings of paper and burned them, washed
his paint-brushes, and put everything tidily away
into a drawer that his mother had given him to
himself, so that he might have no excuse for leaving
things about. The contents of that drawer were
miscellaneous indeed. There lay his pet the old
timepiece, surrounded by bits of string, screws, old
nails, a hammer, a screw-driver, old tops, bits of
coloured glass, odd pieces of tin, brass, and wire,
two or three apples, a pair of pincers, an old pad-
lock, curious pebbles, a dog's collar, packets of flower
seeds, a couple of door-knobs, two or three rusty
keys, and many other treasures.
When the putting away was finished, he brought
the Bible to his father and quietly took his seat.
They made it a rule to have prayers before Charlie
went to bed, that he might join them; and special
mention was always made of him, that he might
realize that every little thing connected with his
spiritual life was of the same consequence to G6d
as if he was a grown-up person. To-night there
was much to ask for him-pardon for the past
and help for the future; and Charlie's heart was very
full as he listened to the simple, earnest prayer that
was sent up on his behalf.


Good-night, my boy," said his father as
Charlie came round to him; "when you are
dressing in the morning, remember that you must
also 'put on the whole armour of God,' for you
are going out to do battle, 'not with flesh and
blood, but with principalities and powers;'
not with an enemy that you can see, but with
the spirit of darkness. Resist the devil, and
he will flee from you.' Draw nigh to God, and
He will draw nigh to you.' "



NE evening, about a month after the events
of the last chapter, Charlie was sitting near
the window reading, when, to his astonish-
ment, he saw a lady open the garden gate and walk
to the door. It was Mrs. Greenwell, who lived in
the large house with the beautiful garden, that was
Charlie's great admiration. He knew Mrs. Green-
well quite well, because she had often stopped to
speak to him, and ask him about his school, and the
garden, and other things; indeed, she was Charlie's
favourite lady-he was sure there was not another
in the place like her.
You must not think he was vain, if we tell you
that he gave a hasty glance in the glass to see if his


hair was tidy, and his face and collar clean. He
need scarcely have done so, for it was seldom that
either was untidy or dirty; he had so often heard
his mother say it was no disgrace to be seen in old
clothes, so long as they were well brushed and
mended, but it was a very great disgrace to be seen
with dirty hands and face, and unbrushed hair.
Charlie ran to the door, wondering very much
what Mrs. Greenwell could have called about. She
spoke a few kind, pleasant words to him, and asked
to see his mother. Charlie ushered her into the
best room, placed a chair for her with great state,
closed the door quietly, and then hastened upstairs
to find his mother, taking two stairs at a time,
missing one, and coming down on his hands and
knees in a lump.
Dear me, Charlie," said Mrs. Heedman, who
had come in at the back door, and was standing at
the foot of the stairs looking on in amazement at
his extraordinary scrambling; "what ever are you
doing ? is it a mouse ?" remembering he had once
chased a mouse upstairs with much the same sort of
A mouse! no, mother," said Charlie, coming
down very mildly. "I wanted to tell you that
Mrs. Greenwell is here, and waiting for you."
Mrs. Greenwell's errand was to ask if Charlie
could be spared to attend a Bible class at her house
twice a week. As well as instruction in the Bible
and catechism, she intended to read instructive
books to them on different subjects: natural history,
travels in foreign lands, English history, the lives
of good and noble men who had risen from the



working classes, and on many other subjects that
would be interesting and give them a taste for read-
ing. Charlie was younger than most of the
boys she expected, but she knew he was more intelli-
gent and thoughtful than the generality of boys of
his age, principally because he had such good
home training.
Mrs. Heedman very gladly agreed for him to
attend regularly. As for Charlie himself, his delight
knew no bounds, especially when he heard that they
were all to have tea, and spend the evening at Mrs.
Greenwell's the next day The moment she had
left and the door was closed, Charlie broke into a
dance of triumph round the room that would have
done credit to a wild Indian, and kept it up so long
that Jumper became seriously concerned: he stood
at a safe distance, barking, as if asking for an expla-
nation, or expostulating with his master; but
Charlie only snapped his fingers at him, and went
on with his dance. Poor Jumper thought it was
an order to sit up, and sat up accordingly, but soon
finding his mistake out he dropped his fore-feet
disconsolately. At last, as if a bright thought had
struck him, he made a sudden rush at poor puss,
who was sitting very upright with her tail over her
toes, gazing innocently at the fire, and I am sorry to
say he caught her rather savagely by the ear.
Jumper knew puss to be his own particular enemy,
and whenever anything went wrong he always
seemed to conclude that she must be at the bottom
of it.
This brought the dance of triumph to an end,
much to Mrs. Heedman's satisfaction.


You should have seen Charlie the next day, when
he started for Mrs. Greenwell's, in his best suit, a
shining white collar, and new necktie; his brown
hair arranged in his best style, and his bright face
lit up with happy expectation. It was the first
time he had.ever formally gone out to tea."
It would take two or three chapters to tell you
all that Charlie saw and thought and heard on that
eventful evening, but we must be content with a
hasty sketch.
When Charlie first went into the room with its
beautiful pictures, its handsome furniture, its bright
lights, and many strange faces, he felt quite
dazzled; but Mrs. Greenwell came up to him, and
taking him by the hand, led him up to a bojr about
two years older than himself, who was lying on a
couch. "This is my son," she said, kindly ; he
is quite anxious to know you, Charlie, so you had
better sit down beside him." Harry Greenwell
shook hands heartily, and made room for him, but
did not rise from the couch.
He must be very proud or very idle," thought
Charlie ; and yet, as he looked admiringly at him,
he felt that he did not look as if he were either
one or the other. Charlie had seen him out driving
sometimes with his mother, but had never been
close to him before. Harry lay there quite un-
conscious of Charlie's opinion and admiration, his
delicate, expressive features full of animation, and
his eyes sparkling with pleasure as he watched the
boys talking and looking about them. He had
begged very hard that they might come into the
drawing-room. Harry liked to have pictures and



ornaments and beautiful things round him, and he
thought they would enjoy it too.
How happy he must be," thought Charlie, "in
this beautiful house, with servants to do every-
thing for him, a carriage to ride in, and I dare say
he chooses his own clothes, and can have whatever
he likes for dinner It must be very nice to be
him," thought Charlie, rather enviously.
Just then a move was made for the room where
tea was prepared. "You go on, Charlie," said
Harry, in a kind tone; "don't wait for me; I'll
follow." Charlie happened to glance back.
Harry Greenwell was lame.
He told Charlie later in the evening how it
happened. The two boys were standing together
at a small table apart from the rest; Harry, who
had taken a great fancy to Charlie, was showing
some of his drawings. There was genuine admira-
tion in Charlie's face and tone as he exclaimed,
How splendid they are, AMaster Harry They
must have taken you a long time to do "
Well, yes," answered Harry; you see I have
had a good deal of quiet time to occupy ever since
my hip was hurt; I haven't been able to play at any
outdoor games like other boys, or even to walk much.
You can't think how thankful I am that I have
a taste for drawing; one cannot always be reading,
and it makes the time pass so pleasantly."
Was it long since ? How did it happen "
asked Charlie, full of sympathy, and wondering
almost that Harry could be thankful for anything
under such circumstances.
It was about three years ago, when I was eleven


years old. I was out riding; something startled the
pony, and he threw me. You see my leg is not
deformed," holding it out as he spoke, "but I walk
lame; the doctor says I must rest well now, and not
overtax my strength, or I shall never be any better.
It pains me a good deal even now sometimes."
"Did you always feel as--a quiet about it as
you do now ?" asked Charlie, rather at a loss for
the right word.
No," said Harry; "for a whole year all sorts
of wicked, bitter thoughts were in my heart. I
thought God was behaving hardly and unkindly to
me. I wanted to die, rather that live to be a
cripple. I almost hated people who were well and
strong. When mamma had visitors I kept out of
the way. Sometimes I stayed in my own room for
weeks together. I couldn't bear any one to see me.
It was a great trouble to mamma." Harry was
carried away by the recollections of that sad time,
and had spoken in a low rapid tone, more to himself
than to Charlie.
The boys turned over the contents of a portfolio
in silence for a few moments.
Harry placed before Charlie a beautiful engraving
of our Saviour on the cross. "He bore all that for
me, and I am trying to bear my pain willingly and
patiently for His sake, because I love Him; and I
know He loves me, and helps me to bear my pain,
and would not let me suffer it at all if it was not
for my own good in the end," said Harry.
I have let you listen to this little bit of quiet
talk between Charlie and Harry that you may
determine, as Charlie did, to try to follow Harry's



example, not to be discontented and impatient in
sickness, or trial of any kind; to be often thinking
of, and feeling thankful for, the blessings God has
granted you ; to love the Lord Jesus, and trust Him.
You must not suppose that the evening at Mrs.
Greenwell's was passed in talking only. After tea,
which was thoroughly enjoyed by the boys, they
looked at pictures, books, shells, and other things.
Mrs. Greenwell had so many little histories to tell
about them, and talked so pleasantly, that the boys
enjoyed it very much; but the great wonder and
attraction was a microscope, or magnifying glass,"
as Charlie called it.
Many of the boys had never seen or even heard
of one before, and it puzzled them very much to be
told that what looked to them very like a small
lobster's claw was the foot of a fly.
What beautiful little feathers exclaimed one
You know the sort of dust that sticks to your
fingers if you touch the wings of a moth or a
butterfly, don't you ?" asked Harry.
"Yes, sir," answered the boy.
Then that is some of it, magnified; the wings
are covered with those beautiful little feathers,
although we cannot distinguish them without the
But I cannot attempt to tell you one half of the
wonders that the microscope revealed to them that
night, or the lessons it taught them of the power and
wisdom of the Creator. Mrs. Greenwell pointed
out to them the immense inferiority of' man's best
and most careful work when compared with the


simplest work of God. A piece of delicately woven
silk, of the finest texture, that looked perfect to
the eye, when placed under the microscope
appeared rough, coarse, and uneven-rather like a
common door-mat, in fact; but the wing of a fly,
the hair of a mouse, the eye of an insect, the scale of
a fish, the dust of a moth's wing, the leaf of a plant
-anything made by God, and owing nothing to
the hand of man-the more it was magnified, the
more beauties you discovered. Examine by the
microscope the humblest and most minute of God's
creations, and you will always find beauty, order,
and perfection.


T is Charlie's birthday: two years have passed
away since the great going out to tea at Mrs.
Greenwell's, and he is now fourteen years old.
It is a very quiet and a very sad birthday for
Charlie, His father is ill-his good, kind father. This,
illness had been coming on for the last six months.
Many of his neighbours and fellow-workmen had
noticed for some time that John Heedman had a
bad look," and would shake their heads and look
significantly at each other as he passed by, with his
slow gait, his stooping shoulders, and loud, hollow
cough, now almost constant, and more painful than



ever. Often when Charlie awoke in the night he
would hear his father pacing the room, unable to
rest, or even lie down. The first time he heard
him, he thought Father must be ill; he has gone
downstairs," and springing out of bed, he crept
lightly down to see what was the matter.
The shutters were thrown open, and the blind
pulled up to the top. Charlie saw it was a calm,
still night, and that every part of the sky visible
from the window was spangled with a countless
multitude of brilliant stars. His father stood at
the window-he was leaning slightly forward-with
clasped hands, and gazing up with eager, questioning
eyes. Charlie felt that he was praying, and crept
softly back. He sat down at the foot of the stairs
to wait, feeling cold and shivering, and with a
strange fear at his heart. He had not sat many
minutes when he heard his father moving; then he
called softly at the door, "Are you ill, father? can
I do anything for you?"
"Why, Charlie, how is this said his father,
taking him by the hand and bringing him into the
"I heard you down here, and I was afraid you
were ill. Are you ill? asked Charlie, anxiously.
Not altogether ill, perhaps, Charlie, and yet not
well. My cough is very bad to-night, I can get no
rest; when I lie down I feel as if I should be suffo-
cated. But how cold you are, my boy! run away
to bed," he said, trying to speak more cheerfully,
"or we shall be having you laid up next."
The cheerful tone did not deceive Charlie; he
clung to him. "Father, you are worse than you say


-tell me all; do not treat me like a little child; I
am nearly fourteen years old."
His father stood for a moment undecided, then
he sat down and drew Charlie to him and told him
all; how he had felt lately that his cough was get-
ting worse and worse, and his whole frame weaker;
that he was afraid some disease of the lungs had
taken a firm hold, and that he intended to take a
rest the next week and see a doctor if he did not
feel any better. You must not think I am going
to die at once," he said, feeling Charlie tremble;
"even if I have disease of the lungs I may live a
long while yet, if it is God's will. I want you to
be a brave boy, and not let your mother see you
going about grieving and looking sad, and adding
to her sorrow, but do all you can to help and com-
fort her. If you love me, you will try to do this."
Charlie promised to try, and after a few more words
of comfort and encouragement John Heedman per-
suaded him to go to bed. My dear boy," he said,
" you know that your love is a great happiness to
me, but you must not come down again if you hear
me up in the night; it will make me unhappy if I
think I keep you awake."
After this, although Charlie often heard his father
of a night, he never came down again; but he crept
softly out of bed and knelt down and prayed for
him. He asked God to grant-if it were His will-
that his father might get better; if not, that He would
help him to bear his pain, for Jesus Christ's sake.
It was not at all a grand, well-worded prayer, but
it was simple, earnest, and heartfelt-just the sort
of prayer God loves to listen to.



On the morning of Charlie's birthday, about a
fortnight after that night he went down to his
father, John Heedman was quite unable to go out
to his work; he had been obliged to give up at last,
and the doctor was called in. When Charlie was
sent out of the room until the doctor's visit was
over, he rushed out of the house, unable to bear the
suspense, and wandering down to the beach, he lay
down to think with his face hidden in his cap, as if
to shut out the too joyous sunlight.
As he listened to the low, mournful surging of
the waves, all his past life seemed to rise up before
him; he remembered with bitter self-reproach how
ill he had repaid the love and kindness of those dear
ones at home; how often he had caused his mother
hours of anxiety by his carelessness and procrasti-
nation; for Charlie had not altogether succeeded in
conquering his great fault; how selfish he had been
in every way. He remembered with shame how he
had begged and worried for things without caring
or thinking whether they could afford it; he had
denied himself nothing, and now all this expense of
his father's illness was coming upon them. If they
had not taken him to keep when he was friendless,
they would have had plenty of money saved, and
would have wanted for nothing.
As Charlie thought of all this, he determined that
he would be a burden to them no longer, he would
try to earn some money ; there were boys far younger
than himself, he knew, at work, and if he only earned
a small sum at first, it would help. Full of this
determination he made his way home. The doctor
was just leaving as he went in, and Charlie heard


from his mother that he held out no hope of his
father's recovery; the disease had gone too far. He
was on no account to go down the mine again, even
if he fancied he felt strong enough; the impure air
had already aggravated the disease. The doctor had
said that if he took great care of himself he might,
perhaps, be spared to them for some time.
Charlie's heart was too full then to speak to his
father; he went into his own room, shut the door,
and stood for a moment as if uncertain what to do.
"If only Mrs. Greenwell had been at home," he
thought, I could have told her all about it, and
she would have advised me."
"Tell it to God, He is always to be found, and
can help as well as advise," something within him
seemed to whisper. He listened to the voice, and
kneeling down, poured out all his trouble, and
sorrow, and anxiety, asking God to help him for
Jesus Chrst's sake. He then got up, bathed his face
in cold water, for his eyes were swollen with tears, and
started off to the chemist's with the doctor's pre-
scription that his mother gave him.
Wait for the medicine," she said, and bring it
home with you."
He was waiting in the shop until it was ready,
and turning over all sorts of plans for the future in
his mind, when one of Mrs. Greenwell's servants
came in. "Is that you, Charlie Scott ?" she ex-
claimed. Master Harry was just inquiring after
you, if you had been at the house lately."
How long have they been at home? he asked
in surprise.
"About two hours; they came this morning."



Charlie picked up the medicine that the chemist
had placed before him, and set off home as hard as
he could run.
I'm just going to Mrs. Greenwell's, mother dear,"
he said, giving it in at the door; "I'll soon be
Harry Greenwell saw in a moment by Charlie's
face that he was in trouble, and asked anxiously
what was the matter. He liked Charlie, and from
the first they had been as close friends as the diffe-
rence in their station and education would allow.
Charlie always went to Mrs. Greenwell and Master
Harry" when he was in trouble; indeed, Mrs.
Greenwell had succeeded in making all the boys
who went to her Bible class feel that she was their
friend, and interested in all concerning them; and
many of them were thankful for her advice and
kind, encouraging words, wheh they were in trouble
or anxiety.
Charlie told them of his father's illness, of his own
selfishness, his repentance, his self-reproach, and his
anxiety to do something to help at home.
"My dear boy," said Mrs. Greenwell, "I am so
glad you have come to me; but I trust you have
already laid all this before your great Friend and
Father in heaven."
"Oh yes, ma'am," answered Charlie; "but I feel
so ashamed of having so often to ask God to forgive
me; I feel almost afraid that He will be tired of me,
and refuse to listen."
We might be afraid of that," said Mrs. Green-
well, if we asked forgiveness in our own unworthy
names-if the Saviour had never died for us. But


as you know, He came into the world to save sinners.
He gave Himself for our sins. He was wounded
for our transgressions: He was bruised for our
iniquities, and with His stripes we are healed.'
'The blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth us from all
sin.' He has said, 'Whatsoever ye shall ask the
Father in My name, He will give it you;' and if we
doubt His word we are lost. If we repent, and are
sincerely sorry for our sin, and ask God to forgive
us, for Jesus Christ's sake, He will do so, no matter
how often we go to Him. It is Satan who tries to
put hard thoughts of God into our hearts. And
now, in your trouble, Charlie, you do not know how
the Saviour loves you and sympathizes with you.
He knows what it is to suffer. He is waiting at the
door of your heart, longing to come in and help and
comfort you. He says, Behold, I stand at the door
and knock;' do not refuse Him entrance, Charlie."
Tears stood in Charlie's eyes when Mrs. Green-
well finished speaking, tears of thankfulness for such
a Saviour, and of gratitude to Mrs. Greenwell.
When they began to talk of what Charlie could
do to help at home, and earn some money, Harry
asked him what he would like to do best.
I should best like to be amongst engines, and
machines, and those things," said Charlie. "Father
meant me to be an engineer-a working engineer, if
all had gone on well; he meant to apprentice me.
But, of course, that is all over now," L? said, with a
sigh; "it would be so long before I could earn any-
thing like good wages."
Yes, indeed," said Mrs. Greenwell, turning over
all sorts of plans in her mind. "You see," she went



on, "errand boys get so little, and tradesmen will
not give wages to inexperienced boys for shop work,
when they can get apprentices. Haven't you thought
of anything yourself she asked, after a pause.
"There's the pit," answered Charlie, with a sigh;
"I could get six shillings a week, as trapper, directly.
Joe Denton gets more than double that now."
"Oh, Charlie!" exclaimed Harry, "surely you
will not have to go down those terrible mines ?"
Mrs. Greenwell reminded Harry that was not
the way to help Charlie. "I know he will feel it
hard at first if he goes; but still I am sure he is a
brave boy and will not shrink from it, if he feels it
to be his duty. You would not have him idling
about at home, thinking only of his own comfort,
and picking and choosing his work, when his father,
who has done so much for him, is suffering from a
lingering illness, and wanting so many little comforts
that cannot be bought without money "
After a good deal of thought, Mrs. Greenwell said,
"I believe, Charlie, it is the only thing for you. It
will be a great trial to you, I know, to give up all
your dreams about engines and machines, and being
a clever man, and getting rich, and having instead
to go down into a dark, dreary coal-pit day after
day, to a life of hard toil; but it appears, as far as
we can see, to be God's will and your duty. You
remember those words of our Saviour,-' If any will
come after Me, let him deny himself, and take up
his cross and follow Me.' We have all a cross of
some kind to bear, and this is your cross, Charlie;
take it up patiently, bravely, and willingly. He
will not give you more than you can bear. Trust


Him. There is no doubt some great blessing is in
store for you, if you do not shrink from this trial of
your faith."
Charlie had two or three very busy days before
Saturday night came. As soon as he had decided
to go down the mine, he went to a fellow-workman
of his father's, Hudson Brownlee, and asked him if
he would let him go down with him the first time.
Brownlee was a kind-hearted man, and took an
interest in Charlie. He promised to see about his
work for him, and call on Monday morning at ten
o'clock. Charlie kept it quite a secret from his
father and mother until Saturday night, then, put-
ting on some of his oldest clothes that he had routed
out ready for Monday, and taking his father's lamp
in his hand, that he used in the mine, he walked
into the room where they were, made a bow, twisted
himself round in front of them, and with a cheery
face and merry tone said, Do I look like work,
father I shall I do ?" At first they looked at him
in amazement, but gradually his meaning came upon
My dear boy," said Mrs. Heedman, laying down
her knitting, what do you mean ?"
"I mean this," said he, putting down his lamp,
and taking each of their hands in his, "I am not
going to be an idle, selfish fellow any longer. It's
all settled and done. I am going down the pit on
Monday, with Hudson Brownlee, and I shall have
six shillings to bring home on Saturday night; think
of that, mother, and I shall soon get twice as much.
Father shall want for nothing."
Tears of love and pleasure stood in John Heed-



man's eyes, for he knew what it must have cost
Charlie to make up his mind to it. "You know
how happy it makes your mother and myself to hear
you speak so bravely and gratefully," he said; "but
are you quite sure, Charlie, that you have counted
the cost? Take another week to think of it; thank
God, we are not likely to want for some time, there
is a little store put by. Remember it is a hard and
dreary life to a young ambitious spirit; think it over
"I have thought of it, father, ever since the
doctor came to see you on Tuesday; it is quite
settled. Mrs. Greenwell and Master Harry both
seem to think it is my duty. They say I can serve
God the same, and I shall be just as dear to Him as
if I was ever such a rich engineer; and no honest
work is a disgrace."
"That is true," his father began; he was going
to say something else, but Charlie seemed anxious
to finish his say.
Master Harry says, father, I must think of what
I have been taught, and try to do my duty in that
state of life to which it has pleased God to call me.
H6 says if I am obliged to work with my hands, I
can work with my head too. Master Harry has
offered to give me lessons in the morning before I
go to work, and he will lend me books to read, and
I shall have that to think about whilst I am down
the pit. It won't seem half so dreary when I have
busy, pleasant thoughts. And, father, Mrs. Green-
well says I have had such good training at home,
and been able to get to Sunday school and Bible class
so regularly, that I ought to be quite a missionary


amongst the boys I shall meet, who have not had
such opportunities."
Application was made for him to be engaged at
the pit, and it was agreed that Charlie should begin
his new duties on Monday.


LL boys and girls know the pleasure of drawing
up to a nice, bright, sparkling fire on a cold
winter night. They give little shivers of
comfort, and say, What ever should we do with-
out a good fire, such weather as this But we dare
say very few give a thankful thought to the miner,
whose hard toil has procured this comfort for them.
Perhaps some who read this do not live in a
mining country, and have not read or heard much
about coal mines. If so, we think they will like to
follow Charlie as he goes to his work on Monday
morning. Hudson Brownlee called, as he promised,
but we are sorry to say Charlie kept him waiting
full five minutes whilst he searched for a comforter.
His mother had told him to get it ready on Saturday
night, but he put off until Monday morning, then
he put off until he got back from Harry Geenwell's.
Harry kept him longer than he expected, and he
came tearing along just as Hudson Brownlee reached
the door ; then the comforter had to be found. At


last they started. When Charlie stood near the
great, dark, gaping mouth of the pit, and remem-
bered that he had to go down there, he certainly
felt as he afterwards described it, "very queer"-
not afraid, oh no, but queer.
The cage, as it is called, had just been let down,
with its number of sixteen men; when it came up
again, Hudson Brownlee, Charlie, and some other
men and boys got in. If Charlie felt queer before,
he felt still queerer" now, and when the cage began
to descend, he felt almost sick with the motion; it
seemed to him as if they were never going to reach
the bottom. Down, down, down they went; the
clatter of the engine above, and the creaking of the
cage, making Charlie fancy every now and then that
the rope was giving way, and that in another second
they would all be dashed to atoms. Whenever he
looked up, and remembered that all their weight was
bearing upon that rope, he screwed himself up into
the smallest possible compass, as if that would make
him lighter. He could scarcely see anything at first,
the change from broad daylight to the glimmering
light of the lamps that the men carried was so great.
"Are you all right, my boy?" said Brownlee's
cheery voice; keep up your heart, we shall soon be
out of this. He's a new hand," he said, turning to
the others.
"Who is it? they asked.
"Why," said Brownlee, lowering his voice, it's
that young one that John Heedman took to keep;
his father was drowned, you'll remember-Scott,
the pilot."
On hearing this most of them were silent, but one


boy thrust his lamp forward, and stared rudely in
Charlie's face.
Why, if it isn't that Miss Nancy fellow, Scott !"
he exclaimed, in either real or pretended astonish-
ment. But it can't be," he went on, in a mocking
tone, and yet it is; why, how ever has it happened
that such a nice, good boy, the ladies' pet, has come
down amongst us roughs I thought he was going
to be made a gentleman of-dear, dear! and he hasn't
got his white collar on; and his mother isn't with
Come, hold that saucy tongue of yours, White
Bob," said Brownlee, in an angry tone, "or it will
be worse for you."
The boy's proper name was Bob White. He was
a tall, thin, singular-looking lad, about fifteen years
old, with a pale face. When he first went to work
in the mine some of the boys called him White Bob,
in nonsense, and the name had stuck to him.
He was certainly silent after Brownlee spoke to
him, but he kept throwing back his head, lifting up
his hands, turning up his eyes, and expressing his
mock astonishment in so many odd ways, that the
rest of the boys, although they bore no ill-will to
Charlie, were convulsed with laughter. As for
Charlie himself, he was in a great passion; it was
fortunate that just at this moment the cage reached
the bottom, and in the general scramble to get out
he lost sight of Bob.
Now, my boy, keep close to me," said Brownlee,
" never mind those fellows: keep your temper, and
they'll soon tire of it. Now look about you; you
are many hundred feet under ground." I ws a


strange scene to Charlie. Look where you would,
nothing but black met the eye-black walls, black
floor, groups of black men standing about-every
one and every thing was covered with the bright
coal dust that glittered and sparkled in the rays of
the lamps, like black diamonds.
"Now," said Brownlee, "we must get to work.
I'll take you to your place, as it is in my way; and
they turned up a sort of road or gallery that had
been cut out of the slate and coal. On each side of
this branched, right and left, other roads or galleries
that had been formed by the taking away of the
coal; from these again branched other roads, and so
on, that you might walk for miles under ground, in
and out of the workings of the mine. As the coal
is hewn away the roof is supported by props of wood.
In some places it was so low that Brownlee had to
walk stooping. Of course Charlie did not find all
this out at first, for they only had the light given by
their lamps to guide them and relieve the intense
"What is that?" asked Charlie, as a little spark
of light like a glowworm appeared in the distance,
and a low rumbling noise met their ears.
You'll see in a minute," said Brownlee, smiling
at Charlie's wonder.
The light came gradually nearer and nearer, and
then Charlie saw it was a lamp carried by a boy who
had charge of a little pony and some coal tubs-sort
of square tubs on wheels. Brownlee told him that
the boys who had that work were called putters;
they were occupied in taking empty tubs to the men
who hewed the coal, and in bringing away the full


tubs, and that they earned good wages : they had a
shilling a score for the tubs they removed.
"I should think the poor ponies have a hard life
of it," said Charlie. Do they take the tubs right
away to the mouth of the pit "
'No, they only go so far, then the engine pulls
them to the shaft, and they are drawn up to bank,
to be emptied and sent down again."
"We seem to have come a long way," said
About a mile," answered Brownlee; but we've
worked a deal further out that way," pointing to the
left. We're either under the sea or close at the
edge, out there."
Charlie gave a little shudder. "Where is my
work, please ?" he asked.
Oh, we've passed your place; the door we came
through last is the one you have to take care of.
I'm just taking you round a bit, as you're new to it.
Mind your head," he called, as they turned up a low
gallery to the right, and they both went along stoop-
ing. Stop there," said Brownlee, creeping along
by himself a little further, and sitting on his heels
opposite a wall of bright coal. "There," he said,
"how would you like to sit cramped up like this for
six hours, hewing coal, and hearing the stone above
you crack like a gun, and move about as you work,
expecting every moment you'll have to run for your
life-that is, if you have the chance ? I had a
narrow escape last winter," he said, as he joined
Charlie again; "two of us were working together,
and all of a sudden there was an awful crack, like a
cannon going off. It was who could scramble up



and run quickest, I can tell you. It was my luck
to be last, and down came a tremendous piece; the
end of it just dropped on my foot as I was running,
and it held me as fast as if a mountain had been on
the top of me, although I was free all but my foot.
None of them durst venture to me for a good bit,
for there was an awful noise going on round me, and
there I laid as fast as could be, expecting every
moment would be my last."
"What dangerous work exclaimed Charlie.
"I should think nobody durst do it if they didn't
know they had God to protect them and take care
of them."
I'll see you to your wcrk now," said Brownlee,
turning the subject. Here we are," he said; do
you see this seat behind the door ? then all you've
got to do is to sit here and pull that rope that opens
the door when the putters or any of the men want
to come through. The boys stay down twelve hours,
but I'll see you again before I go up. It'll be lonely
for you at first," he said, kindly.
father said Charlie; "but I must remember
that I am not alone."
Brownlee looked at him inquiringly.
I mean, you know, that we are never alone; that
He is always with us," said Charlie, simply, with an
upward glance and movement of the head.
"Oh, aye," said Brownlee, hesitatingly, and moving
off, as if he felt it was a subject he could not say much
It was strange how that thought clung to the
miner-not alone; not alone! It haunted him, and
often as he worked he glanced uneasily over his


shoulder into the darkness beyond, with a sort of
feeling that he was being watched -that there was a
presence, an invisible something or some one hover-
ing near, and listening to his very thoughts.
It was quite a relief when a putter or any one
came near that he could speak to. Hudson Brownlee
had known perfectly well ever since he was a child
that God is everywhere," but he had never thought
about it; he was realizing His presence for the first
time, and it made him nervous to feel that he was
alone with God, who was powerful, and whom he
had neglected.
We must now go back to Charlie. His duty, if
it was dull and lonely, was simple and easily attended
to. He had opened the door for a great many boys
and men, but he had not seen anything more of Bob
White. Charlie remembered he was an old enemy,
and had often waylaid himself and the other boys
on their way to Mrs. Greenwell's class, and ridiculed
them. His saucy, mocking tongue made him the
terror of most of the boys in the mine. He had had
the run of London streets for ten years, before his
mother removed into the north, and was more than
a match for most of the north country boys in a
battle of words.



HARLIE'S morning had passed away pretty
well, and he began to think it must be din-
ner time; at any rate he felt hungry, so he
sat down and looked to see what his mother had
packed up for his dinner. There was a nice little
beefsteak pie, just about as much as he could eat,
and two or three of his favourite little round cakes
to finish with; so Charlie in high glee, spread the
cloth they were wrapped in over his knees, said grace,
asked himself very politely if he would take a little
pie, said thank you, and took the dish. He had eaten
about half of it, and was enjoying himself very
much when who should he see coming along
but Bob White. What should he do ? Should he
try to wrap his dinner up and put it out of sight,
or go on eating f but before he could decide, Bob
was upon him.
Why," exclaimed Bob, pretending to start with
surprise, "if here isn't the ladies' pet! and getting
his dinner too," said Bob, stooping down to look
curiously in the dish that was on Charlie's knee.
"Pie," he remarked, "and very good it looks;
what else? Oh, cakes! well, I'm in luck's way
to-day, I am," breaking a piece off one and putting
it in his mouth. What's in the can he asked,
pointing to it with his foot.
Water," answered Charlie, trying hard to keep
his temper.
"Well, you're a one to know manners," said


Bob, never to offer one a place to sit down on-
-move along. I'll hold the dish; and suiting
the action to the word, he snatched it up, and before
Charlie had recovered himself, the rest of the pie
was half eaten.
Give me that dish," said Charlie, trembling
with passion.-
Bob paused, and put on an injured countenance.
"Can't you wait until I've finished ? shouting out
for the dish like that."
Unseen by them both a gentleman was standing
in the shade, watching the whole affair, and just as
Charlie was rushing upon Bob like a little whirl-
wind, he stood out in front of them in the lamp-
light. Bob dropped the dish in his fright, and
stood with his hands hanging down and his mouth
open, staring in dismay at Mr. Carlton, the viewer.
Mr. Carlton took out his note-book, and turning
to one of the pages, quietly said, This is the third
time, White, that I have found you quarrelling
with and tantalizing boys younger than yourself,
and neglecting your work. Now this shall be the
last time; you leave on Saturday night."
All the impudence had faded out of Bob's face.
" Oh, sir," he begged, clasping his hands in his
earnestness, "please look over it this once. What
shall I do if you turn me off ? I dare not tell my
mother ; you know, sir, that she is ill, and what
I earn is all we have. I deserve it perhaps, sir, but
she doesn't-just this once !" he pleaded.
Mr. Carlton felt some one touch his sleeve; it
was Charlie. beg your pardon, sir," said Charlie,
in a low tone, but will you please forgive him this
time ?"


Mr. Carlton looked at him with surprise. Are
you begging for him ? have you forgiven him ?" he
"Yes, sir," answered Charlie. "I am very sorry
I lost my temper so. I have been well taught, and
perhaps he hasn't."
Mr. Carlton considered for a moment.
Bob could not hear what Charlie was saying, but
he fancied from his manner that he was telling his
wrongs, and a sullen, angry expression spread over
his face.
Come here, White," said Mr. Carlton. "I have
consented to look over your bad conduct once more;
but remember you owe it to this boy," putting his
hand on Charlie's shoulder; "he has pleaded for
you; he has returned you good for evil: see that
you are not ungrateful." He then left them, after
asking Charlie his name.
Bob stood still, feeling and looking very awkward.
Charlie went up to him, and held out his hand.
"You'll shake hands and be friends, Bob, won't
you? "
Bob shook hands shyly, and turned away to his
work without speaking; but Charlie fancied he saw
tears in his eyes.
Soon after it was time for the men to leave.
They came pouring out in all directions from the
workings of the mine, and Charlie was kept busy.
Hudson Brownlee came nearly last.
How do you get on ? he asked kindly.
Oh, pretty well; I'm getting more used to it
Good-bye," said Brownlee, taking a step for



ward, and then standing still. What was it you
were saying about not being alone?" putting on a
careless, off-hand tone.
Oh," said Charlie, "I meant I should not feel
lonely or afraid, because I knew God was with
me. I remember father reading out of the Bible,
' Fear not, for I am with thee;' and I know it is
true, don't you 1"
"No," said Brownlee, thoughtfully, "I can't
say that I do."
"If I had my Bible here, I think I could find
the words directly."
"Ah," said Brownlee," that's a book I don't
know much about. You see I'm no scholar. I
was careless about learning when I was young, and
what little I did know I have almost forgot. It
takes me such a while to spell out the words that I
lose the meaning."
"What a pity !" exclaimed Charlie. "You see
it's almost impossible to get on right at all without
the Bible, because God tells us in it what we are to
do, and what we're not to do," he went on impetu-
ously. I was just thinking, as we came along
down here with our lamps, about that text, Thy
word is a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my
path.' If we had not had lamps we should have
been groping about in the dark, stumbling over
things, knocking up against the props, hurting
ourselves, and losing our way ; but our lamps
showed us the right path, and how to keep out of
danger. And we should go groping and stumbling
through the world in darkness, too, falling into all
sorts of sin and temptation, hurting our souls, and


losing ourselves altogether, if we had not the light
of God's word to guide us."
"( Where do you get all your learning from ? you
seem to know a deal for a boy," said Brownlee.
" Oh, father reads these things from the good
book every day. I dare say he feels them com-
forting to himself when he's in the pit. Besides,
I've been to a Sunday school."
Well, they are true," said Brownlee, thought-
fully; he held up his lamp and looked at it. For
twenty years this has been the only sort of lamp
I've troubled myself about, but please God, if it's
not too late--- Charlie could not hear the rest,
for he waved his hand and followed the other men.
At the end of the twelve hours Charlie was pre-
paring to follow some men and boys to the shaft,
when Bob White made his appearance. It's rather
queer," said Bob, shyly, "( finding your way about
here; will you go up with me "
'( Thank you," said Charlie heartily, setting off
with him, and talking away as freely as he could to
put Bob at his ease.
You may be sure Charlie was very glad to get
home and rest after he had told his father and
mother what he had seen and done. So ended his
first day down the mine.




FTER the conversation with Brownlee about
the Bible, Charlie took his pocket Bible down
the mine regularly; his father wished him to
read a little every day at his dinner-time. He
was one of those people who never like to waste a
minute, and in his dinner-time he managed generally
to have something to read that was worth reading.
Bob was really grateful to Charlie for interfering in
his behalf, and lost no opportunity of showing it. It
was astonishing how he improved: so much good
in him that had been lying dormant was called
out under Charlie's better influence. Sometimes he
seemed half ashamed of his good behaviour, and
would break out for a time into the old reckless
way; but one night on their way home Charlie
was talking in his own loving way about his dear
father and mother, and their kindness to him; how
his plans for being an engineer had been put aside
by his father's illness; how he hoped soon to get
more wages for their sakes, and so on, when in
some unaccountable way Bob's whole nature seemed
softened; and as if he could not help it, he poured
out to Charlie his home troubles and all his old life;
how he had fallen amongst bad companions, and
grew up to be hardened and reckless, almost without
even a wish to be better. Sometimes, when he
saw Charlie and the other boys going to Mrs. Green-
well's class, looking so happy and clean and orderly,


the wish that he was like them would creep into
his heart; but he drove it away, and called after
them with mocking words. All this and much more
he told Charlie with tears streaming down his face,
and his voice broken by sobs.
It almost frightened Charlie to see mocking, reck-
less Bob give way so completely. He was just won-
dering what he had better say to him, when Bob
bid him good-night abruptly, and turned off home.
After that night Bob never again attempted to keep
up his care-for-nothing-or-nobody tone before Charlie.
He generally brought his dinner now to eat beside
Charlie. The first time the Bible was brought out,
when they had finished, which required a little
courage at first, Bob got up and sauntered away; the
second time he sat still and whistled popular song
tunes in a subdued tone, while Charlie read to him-
self; the third time he sat quietly; the fourth day
the Bible was brought out he shuffled about uneasily,
and at last said, You may as well read out if you
must read; it's dull sitting here without anybody to
speak to."
Charlie gladly agreed. "Let us read in-turns,"
he said.
Bob did not object, for he read well, and was rather
proud of it. After this the Bible reading was an
established custom, and Bob got very much interested
as he read the history of Joseph, Moses, and others.
Hudson Brownlee, happening to pass one day,
stopped to listen when he saw how they were oc-
cupied, and soon a third was added regularly to
the little party. After a parable or any striking
passage had been read they would each give their



own idea of its meaning and teaching, spending
much thought upon it in their eagerness to give it
in the best and clearest way. Often during their
work Hudson Brownlee, Bob, and Charlie too, would
ponder over some passage they had heard or read,
comparing the different opinions upon it, applying
it, thinking it out, and turning it over in their
mind, until some great truth would stand out from
the rest, fixing itself immoveably in their hearts
and understandings. And so this study of the Bible,
begun without any real religious feeling (on Bob and
Brownlee's part, at any rate), led them to higher
things-to a knowledge of God's holiness, of their
own sinandunworthiness, and their need of a Saviour.
But this was a work of time, and we must now go
back a little in our history.
When Charlie had been two months down the
mine as a trapper, he was advanced to a higher post
and better wages as a putter. He might have had the
increase of wages quite a month before, but he put
off applying for the place until it was too late, and
another boy had been appointed. Harry Greenwell
lent him some elementary books on mechanics, for
his old love for such things was as strong as ever,
and now that he was putter he had many opportu-
nities of examining the working of the engine
stationed down the mine. Those were glorious days
for Charlie when it was out of order, and the engineer
had to come down; he would hover round him,
holding the tools for the men, helping to lift or carry
anything, glad of any excuse to be near. His ques-
tions were so sensible and thoughtful, and his sug-
gestions sometimes, for a youth, so good, that the


engineer became quite interested in him, and ex-
plained to him thoroughly the working of the engine,
giving him really valuable teaching in mechanics;
and this knowledge stood him in good stead, as you
will hear.
On coming down to his work one morning he was
surprised to find his favourite, the engine, at a stand-
still. A number of the miners were near it, all talking
together, trying to account for the accident, and de-
ploring the absence of the engineer, who was away
for a day or two's holiday.
Mr. Carlton, the viewer, looked vexed and an-
noyed; he was asking the overman to send to a
mine a few miles off for their engineer. Charlie
made his way to the engine, and soon saw what
was wrong. It was not much, and he felt sure
that if he had the help of a pair of strong arms
he could get it into working order.
In his excitement he pushed his way to Mr.
Carlton, and exclaimed, "I know what is wrong
with her, sir; if you will just come and look, sir,
I'll show you."
Mr. Carlton, surprised and amused, followed him,
and Charlie, stooping down and pointing up, full of
animation, explained so clearly and intelligently the
nature of the misfortune, and how it might be re-
medied, that Mr. Carlton, no longer with the amused
expression on his face, called to one of the men,
" Come here, Shields, and help him."
In an hour's time Charlie's pet was working away
as hard as ever.
"c Well done, my boy," said Mr. Carlton; tell me
where you picked up all this knowledge."


The men were gone off to their work, and Mr.
Carlton soon drew all Charlie's little history from
him. He made no remark, excepting that when
Charlie made his polite bow and turned off to his
work, he asked him where his father lived.
In the evening, when Charlie got home, he thought
his father and mother looked very smiling and
mysterious, and after they had kept him guessing
what was the cause for a little while, they told him
that Mr. Carlton had been there; he thought they
would like to hear of Charlie's success with the
engine. "And here's good news for you," said his
mother. "Mr. Carlton says that if you like to
work as a putter six hours a day you may help the
engineer, and learn all you can, the other six, and
he will give you the same wages as you earn now."
Charlie threw" himself into a chair, and sat quite
still for a few moments. Isn't it wonderful,
mother? he said at last-"isn't itwonderful I When
I went down the pit there seemed no chance of my
ever doing anything else all my life. The other
seemed impossible; and yet how God has brought
it all about! I shall be an engineer after all, and I
have good wages too to b-gin with. If I hadn't
given up all thoughts of it, and gone quietly down
the pit because God made me feel it was my duty,
I should have lost all this. I hope I shall never
doubt Him after this. Won't it be capital,
father he went on, getting excited. "When I
get plenty of money you shall have such a beautiful
garden and greenhouse! I think you're feeling
better for the rest already, are you not "
John Heedman could not bear to damp Charlie's


happiness, so he turned off the question by saying,
"Mr. Roberts, the clergyman, was here to-day. I
told him about Brownlee and Bob White ; he was
very pleased to hear about you all meeting for Bible
reading, and he is going to look out for them, and
get them to a Bible class he has every week, and
to the house of God."
The only drawback to Charlie's happiness now
was the increasing illness of his father. Sanguine
and hopeful as he was, he could not blind himself
to the fact that every day his father got weaker and
A visit to John Heedman was a lesson in
Christianity to any one,-his wonderful patience
under suffering, his perfect trust in the Saviour, his
quiet waiting for the end-happy to go, yet happy
to stay and suffer so long as it pleased God.



E are quite sure that you have been very
Sglad to read of the progress which Charlie
S has made since we first met him on the
pier a little sunburnt boy only eight years
old. You have seen what good, kind friends he
met with; how well he was trained; how nobly
he came out when his father was ill in denying
himself and going down the mine, and how he was
rewarded; and you have seen, too, how he tried to


do something for God in helping Brownlee and Bob
White; and yet we are so sorry to have to tell you
that all this time his old habit of putting off was
still growing up with him, and latterly a good deal
of self-righteousness had crept into his heart. Un-
consciously he began to have a very high opinion of
himself, and would often think with pride how
different he was from many boys that he knew.
Unfortunately he seemed to have no idea how
completely he was in the power of his old enemy,
procrastination. It would have made our story
much too long if we had told you every instance in
which he gave way to it, but we think-you will see
that this habit of putting off was his besetting sin,
the one flaw in his character. The ship was sailing
pleasantly along, with decks clean swept, with
colours flying, and all looking well and prosperous;
but there was a leak, one little treacherous leak,
which, if it remained unnoticed and unstopped,
would soon bring confusion and destruction upon
the ship, gay and gallant though she looked.
We may often be deceived in ourselves, and
think that we are going on well, but God cannot
be deceived. He sees us as we really are, not as
we appear to ourselves and to others. He is train-
ing each one of us, and He saw in Charlie's case
that a fiery trial was needed to burn out of him
that besetting sin that had been so long indulged.
Just as gold is purified by being passed through
a fiery furnace, so our hearts need to be purified
sometimes by great sorrows, by fiery trials; and so
it was that Charlie had to suffer a most bitter, a
most sad and humiliating fall.


Eleven months had passed since John Heed-
man first called in the doctor; he had lingered so
long, but now the end was very near. He would
not hear of Charlie staying away from his work,
although Mr. Carlton had kindly offered to let him
have a few days at home.
One evening when Charlie came in from work
his mother gave him a letter. You had better go
straight to the post with it," she said, afraid that
he would put off. Your father is very anxious
it should go by to-night's post. Now, Charlie, do
take care," she said, anxiously.
Charlie's good opinion of himself-his pride-
was touched.
"' I wish, mother, you wouldn't talk to me as if
you thought I didn't know what I was about," he
said, in an angry tone, slamming the door after him
as he went out. He had not gone far when he met
Bob White, who was going with a note from the
clergyman to get some books out of the library
" Come with me," said Bob, and we'll have a look
through the books."
"I've got to go to the post office," said Charlie,
"but there's time enough yet; I'll go with you.'"
He argued with himself, What's the use ol
putting the letter in ever so long before post-time
it won't go a bit the quicker." He was in an
irritable humour, angry to think that he should
have been doubted. If he had been like Tom
Brown, or Joe Denton, or any of those careless
fellows, it would have been a different thing.
Arrived at the library, both the boys were soon
interested in looking over the books, and the time


flew rapidly. I'll just glance at these," thought
Charlie, taking out two more with very attractive
titles, "and then I must be off to the post."
Charlie took up a third, determined that it should
be the last, when Bob said, "I think you had better
inquire how the time goes."
It's nothing like time for the post to close yet,
is it, sir he asked of the librarian.
It only wants three minutes to the time; it is
not possible for you to save it, I am afraid."
Charlie dashed down the broad steps and along
the streets as hard as he could run; but he was
too late, the post had just gone, and he was obliged
to drop the letter into the empty box. He walked
slowly home, out of breath and out of temper,
hoping no questions would be asked. "I don't see
why I should say it was too late unless I'm asked,"
he argued, shrinking from confessing to his mother
that she was justified in doubting him. Nothing
was said about the letter that night; his father
was much worse, and everything else was forgotten.
Charlie was almost heartbroken to see him so ill,
and miserable at the thought that he was deceiving
him about the letter.
The next morning, as he was leaving the room to
go out to his work, his father called him back.
" Charlie," he said, "I am expecting a sister of
mine to-night, and I want you to go to the train
and meet her; she would get the letter you posted
last night this morning, and will have time to get
here by the half-past eight train to-night." He
paused for a moment. Why did not Charlie unde-
ceive him about the letter at once ? He made up


his mind to tell him, but put it off until his father
had finished all he had to say.
"I have not seen my sister for years," said
John Heedman; "she is the only relative I have
living, but some misunderstanding rose up between
us after my mother's death-at least, she took
offence, and I do not know the reason even now.
I wrote several times, but she did not answer.
That letter you posted last night was to her; she
will come, I know, when she hears that I am so
near death. There must be something to explain
away, and I am anxious for a reconciliation before I
die; indeed, it is the only earthly wish I have left."
He- said this so earnestly, and with such an
anxious, longing expression in his eyes, that
Charlie was obliged to turn away ; he could not
bear it.
. How could he tell him that she had not got the
letter ? If only he had confessed his neglect the
same night, before he knew the contents of the
letter, it would not have been half so bad.
You had better go now, my boy," said his
father, kindly, or you'll be late at work."
Charlie went. I need not tell you that he had a
miserable day.
At night his father called him into his room
and gave him as careful a description of his sister
as he could to guide him in knowing her. Charlie
dressed and went to the station, and walked up and
down the platform until the train came in, gazed
at the people, and walked home again. It seemed
as if he could not help it; instead of recovering
himself after the first false step, he had gone on


sinking deeper and deeper into sin and deception;
he seemed powerless to help himself.
"Hasn't she come exclaimed his mother,
seeing he was alone. "Oh dear, what will your
father do? he has been almost living upon the
expectation of seeing her these last few hours; -he
has watched the door ever since you went out. I'm
afraid the disappointment will throw him back
Charlie could not trust himself to speak, but
turned into the sick room. His father was propped
up with pillows, and looked eagerly to the door
when Charlie entered; he still waited in expec-
tation until Mrs. Heedman came in and closed the
door. "Where is she he asked; "where is
Jane ?"
She has not come," said Mrs. Heedman, gently;
" perhaps to-morrow morning will bring her.-
You posted that letter in time, Charlie?" she
Yes, mother," Charlie answered, in desperation,
and in a very low voice.
It will be too late to-morrow," said John Heed-
man, sinking back on his pillows exhausted-" it
will be too late." He lay so still for about an
hour that Charlie thought he slept; after that he
called Charlie to him, and wished him to sit up
that night with his mother. He spoke very ten-
derly and lovingly, and told Charlie how happy
his gratitude and love and obedience had made
him, and how he thanked God that Charlie had
never told him an untruth or deceived him, al-
though he had still grave faults to overcome. He


spoke for some time, every word sending a pang
to Charlie's heart, who knew how unworthy he
was of his confidence and praise. He sobbed
hysterically, but was unable to speak.
What a night that was for Charlie, as he sat
there with his mother hour after hour in the still
and darkened room His anguish and remorse
became unbearable. How could he let his father
die without undeceiving him and asking his for-
giveness ? He could not-he must not. Oh! if
he had only spoken at first, when the first false
step was taken, he would not have been led into all
this sinful deceit, and that terrible lie would never
have been told. Now it was such a difficult task-
and yet he must do it. He glanced at the time-
piece: when the hour-hand reached one he would
tell him; he would think now what he had better
say-how he should begin. How fast that hour
seemed to fly 4 It was one o'clock, and he had
nothing ready to say; he dare not begin; he
would wait until two, perhaps his father would
be awake then. Two o'clock came; his father
still slept, looking so calm and peaceful-how could
he disturb him to listen to his sad tale of sin and
Soon after his father awoke; he started up and
looked anxiously round. Charlie and his mother
felt instinctively that it was death. In his terror,
Charlie sprang towards him. "Father, forgive me,"
he burst out, in an imploring tone. I did not post
the letter in time. I told a lie-forgive me-speak
to me pray forgive me A look of unutterable
anguish passed over his father's face. Charlie


waited for an answer, but none came. His father
was far away from him-he was at rest; he was in
that home where sin and sorrow cannot come.
It is useless attempting to describe Charlie's
misery, it was so great. His father, who had so
loved and trusted him, had at last died, with his
hope in him crushed, his confidence in him broken.
His father had died, listening to his confession of
sin and deception, and without being able to judge
whether his repentance was sincere. The confession
came too late for his forgiveness or counsel.
The thought of all this completely crushed
Charlie. For hours he sat crouching on the floor
in his own room, without a single comforting
thought. He had not only deceived his father, he
had offended God. He sat in his misery, feeling
careless whether he lived or died. No tears came,
but his heart throbbed with a dull, aching pain that
was unbearable.
It was a bitter, bitter lesson to Charlie, but it
did its work; it led him to think and pray more
earnestly, and to watch ; and by degrees the darling
sin that had been so long indulged was crushed and
rooted out.
You will be glad to know that he grew up to
manhood, admired and respected by those who
knew him not only for his talent as an engineer, but
for his upright Christian character. One thing he
was noted for, that was punctuality. "No fear
of Scott being behind time or putting off," would
often be said of him.
His good mother lived many years to see and
share his happiness; and Harry Grepnwell, who had


always insisted that Charlie would come out well
in the end, was delighted to see his prophecy
Yet, in the midst of his prosperity, how otten
Charlie's thoughts went back to that sad, sad time!
all the old feelings of pain and regret would come
back at the remembrance of his sin, and that look
of anguish on his father's face, that could never
be forgotten. Yet, although these thoughts left him
saddened for a while, they also left him full of thank-
fulness to the Saviour, whose blood cleanseth from
all sin, and grateful to the all-wise and merciful
God, who had sent the trial to him in kindness and
love. He saw clearly that if he had only humble3
watched at first, that bitter day would have been

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