Oh, what a glorious thing it is for a youth when he has ever present with him a high, a noble, and unselfish motive! What an incentive to exertion, perseverance, and self-denial! Fears that would otherwise appal, discouragements that would dishearten, labours that would weary, opposition that would crush, temptation that would overcome, all, all lie powerless, when, with a single-hearted and worthy aim, he struggles for the victory! Persons born in wealth and luxury seldom achieve greatness. They were not born for labour; and, without labour, nothing that is worth having can be won. A motive Willie had long had. His grandfather was old, his mother weak, and both poor. He must be the staff of their old age; must labour for their support and comfort; he must do _more_:--they hoped great things of him; they _must_ not be disappointed. He did not, however, while arming himself for future conflict with the world, forget the present, but sat down and learned his Sunday-school lessons. After which, according to custom, he read aloud in the Bible; and then Mrs. Sullivan, laying her hand on the head of her son, offered up a simple, heart-felt prayer for the boy--one of those mother's prayers which the child listens to with reverence and love, and remembers for life.
After Willie went home that evening, and Gerty was left alone with True, she sat beside him for some time without speaking. Her eyes were intently fixed upon the white image which lay in her lap. True was not the first to speak; but finding Gerty unusually quiet, he looked inquiringly in her face, and said--"Well, Willie's a pretty clever sort of a boy, isn't he?"
Gerty answered "Yes" without, however, seeming to know what she was saying.
"Very much," said Gerty, in the same absent way. It was not Willie she was thinking of. True waited for Gerty to talk about her new acquaintance; but she did not speak for a minute or two. Then looking up suddenly, she said--"Uncle True, what does Samuel pray to God for?"
True stared. "Samuel!--pray!--I guess I don't know exactly what you're saying."
"Why," said Gerty, holding up the image, "Willie says this little boy's name is Samuel; and that he sits on his knees, and puts his hands on his breast _so_, and looks up, because he's praying to God, that lives up in the sky. I don't know what he means--_way_ up in the sky--do you?"