James and Henry;
OR, “TWO WRONGS NEVER MAKE A RIGHT.”
A MOTHER, who loved her children very much, sat reading a good book one day, while her two little boys were playing in the next room. All at once loud cries and angry words fell upon her ears, and gave her great pain. She rose up quickly, and went in to the children, and there she saw a sad sight indeed. James, her eldest boy, whose eighth birthday had just been passed, was standing over his younger brother, Henry, with his hand raised, and his face red with anger; and Henry had doubled his little fist, and was ready to strike again.
“James! Henry!” cried their mother, as soon as her eyes fell upon them.
“Mother! mother! Henry knocked over my house, and he did it on purpose,” said the eldest boy, a blush of shame covering his face, and hiding the red anger that was on it an instant before.
“No, mother, I didn’t do it on purpose,” spoke up little Henry. “It was an accident; and he struck me.”
“And then what did you do?” asked the mother, taking the little boy by the hand, and looking him in the face.
Henry held down his head, and replied, “I struck him again.”
“Oh, how wrong that was!”
“But I didn’t mean to knock over his house.”
“How was it, James?” the mother asked, appealing to the eldest boy.
“He did knock over my house.”
“But, do you believe it was done on purpose?”
“He kept pushing his foot against it all the while, and I told him not to do it,” said James.
“Why, Henry?”
Henry again hung down his head, and was silent.
“And so you did it on purpose, Henry?”
“Oh no, no, mother, I didn’t do it on purpose,” cried Henry, bursting into tears and burying his face in his mother’s lap. “It was an accident. I did put my foot against the house, just to plague him; but I didn’t mean to push it over. Something made my foot go hard against it. But I am sorry.”
And Henry sobbed aloud.
“Henry is sorry for what he has done, James; he did not do it on purpose. But you were angry and struck him on purpose. Are you not sorry?”
“But he was trying to plague me; and he is always trying to plague me.”
“That was wrong, James. But, you know that I have often said to you—two wrongs never make a right. Do you feel any happier now, because you struck your brother?”
James was silent.
“Tell me, my son, do you think you are happier for what you have done?”
The little boy said, “No.”
“Yes, mother.”
“That is a sign that you have done wrong. When we do right it makes us happy. Are you not always sorry after you have done wrong?”
“Yes, mother.”
“You are sorry that you struck Henry?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And Henry is sorry for having tried to plague you; ain’t you, Henry?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Then give James your hand, my son. He is sorry for having struck you.”
The little boys took hold of each other’s hands, and looked into each other’s faces. But tears were in both their eyes, and on their cheeks.
“Now kiss each other with the kiss of forgiveness.”
The children put their arms round each other’s necks, and kissed each other with a warm kiss of love and forgiveness.
“Now bring me that little book lying on the table, James,” said the mother.
James brought the book, and the mother opened it, and read:—
“‘Whatever brawls disturb the street,
There should be peace at home;
Where sisters dwell, and brothers meet,
Quarrels should never come.
“‘Birds in their little nests agree,
And ’tis a shameful sight,
When children of one family
Fall out, and chide, and fight.
“‘Hard names at first, and angry words,
Which are but noisy breath,
May come to clubs and naked swords,
To murder and to death.’
“Think of that, my dear children! ‘To murder and to death!’ If you quarrel with each other now, instead of growing up and loving each other, you may grow up to hate each other. I remember two brothers that were once no older than you are. They were always quarrelling with each other, and they kept on quarrelling as they grew up. One day, after they had become men, they got into a dispute about something, when one of them struck the other a dreadful blow with a stick and killed him. Was not that a terrible thing? And who knows but that you, if you keep on quarrelling as you do now, may grow up to hate one another.”
“Henry, do you know why it is that you so often try to tease your brother James?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Why is it, my son?”
“I let evil spirits come into me, and do what they wish me to do.”
“Yes, that is the reason. But can’t you keep them out.”
“Yes, ma’am, if I try.”
“Do you like to have evil spirits in you, instead of good angels.”
“Oh no. I love the good angels, and I hate the wicked spirits that make me do wrong.”
“How can you keep the wicked spirits out?”
“By not doing the wrong things they want me to do, and then the good angels will drive them all away.”
“I hope, my dear children, as you know so well what is right, that you will never again let wicked spirits from hell have anything to do with you. When they again tempt you to plague your brother, Henry, you must not do it, and then they will go away; and you, James, if Henry should again be so weak and foolish as to let the evil spirits come into him, must not let them come into you at the same time. If, instead of letting them tempt you to strike him, you permit the good angels to govern you, you will speak kindly to him, and say, ‘Don’t, brother, please.’ I am sure he will do so no longer. By doing this, you will help him to cast out the evil spirits who are seeking to destroy him.”
“How destroy him, mother?”
“All evil spirits seek to destroy children by making them wicked like themselves, so that they may be cast into hell. They hate children so much, that, if they were not restrained by the Lord, they would do them all manner of harm—would utterly destroy them; for they burn with hatred towards little children.”
“But the Lord won’t let them hurt us.”
“Not if we will keep them out of our hearts. But if we let them come in, he cannot save us. And, whenever you are angry with each other, they come into your little hearts. Oh! my dear children, keep out these dreadful enemies, or they will utterly destroy you.”
The children burst into tears, kissed each other and their mother again and again, and promised that they would try and never speak or act unkindly to one another as long as they lived. We hope they will not; and that all our little readers will try, like them, to keep evil spirits far away, that good angels may be round about them and dwell in their young hearts.
