How many parents yield to the pleadings of their children to be indulged “this once,” who find that to deny after once being indulged, costs a greater effort than to have stood with firmness to conviction of conscience and true principle.

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THE RIGHT DECISION

It was the beginning of vacation when Mr. Davis, a friend of my father, came to see us, and asked to let me go home with him.  I was much pleased with the thought of going out of town.

The journey was delightful, and when we reached Mr. Davis’s house everything looked as if I were going to have a fine time.  Fred Davis, a boy about my own age, took me cordially by the hand, and all the family soon seemed like old friends.

“This is going to be a vacation worth having,” I said to myself several times during the evening, as we all played games, told riddles, and laughed and chatted merrily.

At last Mrs. Davis said it was almost bedtime.  Then I expected family prayers, but we were very soon directed to our chambers.  How strange it seemed to me, for I had never before been in a household without the family altar.

“Come,” said Fred, “mother says you and I are going to be bed fellows,” and I followed him up two pair of stairs to a nice little chamber which he called his room.  He opened a drawer and showed me a box, and boat, and knives, and powderhorn, and all his treasures, and told me a world of new things about what the boys did there.

Then he undressed first and jumped into bed.  I was much longer about it, for a new set of thoughts began to rise in my mind.

When my mother put my purse into my hand, just before the train started, she said tenderly, in a low tone, “Remember, Robert, that you are a Christian boy.”

I knew very well what that meant, and I had now just come to a point of time when her words were to be minded.

At home I was taught the duties of a Christian child; abroad I must not neglect them, and one of these was evening prayer.  From a very little boy I had been in the habit of kneeling and asking the forgiveness of God, for Jesus’ sake, acknowledging His mercies, and seeking His protection and blessing.

“Why don’t you come to bed, Robert?” cried Fred.  “What are you sitting there for?”

I was afraid to pray, and afraid not to pray.  It seemed that I could not kneel down and pray before Fred. What would he say?  Would he not laugh?  The fear of Fred made me a coward.  Yet I could not lie down on a prayerless bed.  If I needed the protection of my heavenly Father at home, how much more abroad.

I wished many wishes; that I had slept alone, that Fred would go to sleep, or something else, I hardly knew what.  But Fred would not go to sleep.

Perhaps struggles like these take place in the bosom of every boy when he leaves home and begins to act for himself, and on his decision may depend his character for time, and for eternity.  With me the struggle was severe.