t of the anxieties which will crowd upon you when you are a
man. Try now to learn to bear manfully and patiently all
vexations--looking for help to that blessed One, who, when he was
reviled, reviled not again. How much happier and better man you will
be, how you will comfort your mother, and still more, you will please
that blessed Savior, who has left such an example of meekness--suffering
for sinners, and even dying for his cruel enemies. Oh, my son, my son,
ask that blessed Savior to make you like himself, and you will be happy,
and His own Spirit will make you holy. Let us ask Him to do it," and she
knelt by her bedside, and her son placed himself beside her. It was no
new thing for him to pray with this devoted mother. Often had she been
with him to the throne of grace, when his youthful troubles or faults
had made him feel the need of an Almighty helper and friend, but never
had he come before with such an earnest desire to obtain the gift of
that blessed Spirit, to subdue and change his heart and make him like
his Savior. When they rose from prayer he sought his own room. He felt
unable to go to school, and his mother hoped the impression would be
more lasting, if he thought it over in the solitude of his own chamber,
and she had much reason afterward to hope that this solemn afternoon was
the beginning of good days to the soul of her child. As she looked
anxiously at the expression of his countenance when the family assembled
at the tea-table, she was pleased to notice, though an air of sadness
hung around him, he was subdued, gentle, and affectionate, and she hoped
much from this severe contest with his besetting sin. His father said
little, and soon hurried away to a business engagement for the evening.
Mr. Arnold was a lawyer, a gentleman and a professing Christian, and
though never very strongly beloved, yet few of his neighbors could tell
why, or say aught against his respectability and general excellence of
character. He was immersed in the cares of an extensive business, and
spent little time at home, and when there he seemed to have no room in
his busy heart for the prattle of his children, no time to delight and
improve them, with the stores of knowledge he might have brought forth
from his treasury. If company were present, he was polite and agreeable.
If only his wife and children, he said little, and that little was
chiefly confined to matters of domestic interest--what they should have
for dinner--wh