Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1888-10-10
"And hast thou sinned in that way

have confidence in thee, that l can trust
thee. Thee shall take this check for me to
the bank and get it cashed -; it is for fifty
Pounds Are thy pockets. good Iske
care that theedos not lose the money!"
Henry's eyes frightened as he said,
"Never fear, sir; l will be sure 10 orlng
the money back"
Henry was soon back, and the money
rightly and safely deposited on the table.
"Thou art a good lad" said the Quaker,
'sand thou hast been very prompt. lads
thou been a long time away I might have
been getting anxious, and fearing that l
had acted ~imprudently in trusting one so
young with so much money; now go to
work." ....e.
Henry's heart was much lighter when
he got home to dinner that day /; his moth
er saw the change and was comforted:
"What do YOU think, mother ?" said he,
whispering to her after dinner; "Mr.
Darke sent me to the bank to fetch him
fifty pounds; he said he had confidence in
me. Don't tell father, though, or perhaps
he will say something unpleasant"
Husband" said Mrs. Holden, when
her son was gone, II wish you would
promise me never to say anything about
that unfortunate shilling to Henry again.
He feels it so much. 1T is breaking his
heart"
"Breaking his hearth" exclaimed John
Holden; nonsense !! and as for hurting
his feelings, they ought to be hurt. Is
matter like that to be hushed up and new
err alluded to, for fear of hurting his feel
ings? Do you want your son to grow up
to he a thief?
II am not afraid of his growing up to
be a thief, John. You are doing him
boro Inv constantly throwing ont hints
about his honesty, and bringing the mat
ter before him. You don't know the
harm you are doing"
"YOu are a very foolish woman, and II
it had not been for me the boy would
have been ruined by your over indulgence.
Hurt his feelings, forsooth! Give your
husband credit for a little common sense.
l hope l know, how to manage boys.
Goodbye" said John Holden, going out
at the door" II must be off,"
'Good-bye, said his wife. "And may
God softer your heart" she added earnest
ly, land give you light to see wherein you
are wrong"
On Saturday afternoon John Holden
went, as usual, to Mr.. Darke's office to re-
ceiye his wages. After he was paid, the
Quaker said to him, "Waita minute, John.
I haye a question or two to ask thee. Is
thy father NvlngE"
"Oh! no, sir /; he has been dead many
years-he died when I was a mere boy"
"But then thee has a Father in heaven,
the great God and Maker of us all. is 1t
not so, John"
John looked surprised as he answered,
"Why, yes, sir, I suppose [ have l sup
pose we all have"
"Assuredly but hoped that thee might
have a more intimate knowledge of thy
Father in heaven; that thee prayed to
Him frequently, and confessed thy sins
and asked for pardon, and besought His
guidance and teaching, as it is our privi-
lege to do"
"Well, sir, I cannot say but what l do ;
sometimes more and sometimes less not
as much as l ought to l know"
81 am glad to hear thee say that thee
dost that was what I wanted to get at.
Dost thee feel that when thee has confessed
a sin to Him, and has repented with true
sorrow, that He is always bringing it up
against thee, always and forever Gliding
thee?"
John stammered, looked confused as
we'll as surprised, and then said, MAY l
ask you, sir, why you ask me such a very
pointed question:"
"Ask thy own heart, John !; if that does
not answer thee I am afraid l cannot do so
to thy satisfaction only l would advise
thee, as a true friend to thee and thy boy,
to let 'by-gones be by-gones,' and not be
always Gliding him for a sin of which he
truly repents, and has confessed to thee.
Deal with him more as thy Heavenly
Father deals with thee, and with all of us;
for He is tender-hearted, and the Bible
says, He will not always chide; neither
will He keep His anger forever I have
the fullest confidence in thy son, John.
If thou wilt not trust him, and encourage
him, and help him to do what is right, l
will. Oh, John! John! where is thy
fathers heart? Wilt thou not take thy
po0r penitent child to it
II have been wrong, sir, very wrong"
said John, with a culver in his voice. II
will never allude to it more. 1 thought l
was doing right, l did, indeed; though l
had begun to think sometimes lately that
l had said enough. But 1 thank you very
much for the lesson you have taught me-.
l will try to be a tenderer and q better
father, and that / am sure will comfort
my poor wife's heart, as we'll as my boys,
for / saw she was greatly distressed one
morning this week; though how you
came to know what you do is a mystery to
me-"
81 am rejoiced to hear thee say so. May
God help thee, thy wife and thy children.
Good afternoon to thee, John"
The first thing John Holden did when
he got home was to embrace his wife and
his son very tenderly; he said nothing,
but both felt, especially Henry, that there
was something kinder and more affection
ate in him than usual that there was a
change in some way that made them all
feel happier. The painful subject was
never alluded to again.
Henry grew up to be q steady, high
principled, upright man, and as years roll
ed on he arose to a much higher position
in society than he ever hoped or expected
to have done. Quaker Darke, who had
no children, took him in a short time into
his office, where by his industry, integrity,
and general good conduct, he made him
self of so much use to the Quaker that he
gave him a share in the business, finding
he could not do without him. At the
Quaker's death, which occurred some years
afterwards, Henry became master of the
whole.
ale that covereth his sins shall not
prosper; but whose confesseth and for
saketh them shall have mercy" "He
will not always chide, neither will he
keep his anger forever"
MURMURING.-As putting sweet things
into sOur vessels SOurS them, so murmur-