“Oh, Charley!” said Ernest, with emotion, “this is the second time that you have opened the door of hope to your brother!”
“When a poor desolate boy stood beneath a yew-tree, and watched crowds going into the church which he was almost afraid to enter. You came to him then, and said a few simple words, which roused and encouraged at that time; and often since, when I have felt low and fearful, I have repeated those words to myself, ‘You must not stay outside.’ I have thought of these words as applying to the gate of mercy open to all. Oh, Charley! what a good, what a generous brother you have been to me! Many in your place would have hated and despised me, taunted me with my ignorance and with my early life; but you, even at a time when I have done you great wrong, when I have deprived you of your friend, even led you into sin, you come to comfort and to cheer me;—ever faithful, ever hopeful, ever dear!”
“Beware of the flatterer. As is the saying of the wise man, so we have found it this day, ‘A man that flattereth his neighbour, spreadeth a net for his feet’ (Prov. xxix. 5).”—_Pilgrim’s Progress._
It was some time before Ernest could regain his usual cheerfulness; constant occupation was what, perhaps, had the most effect in restoring it. Not only did he turn with ardour to his studies, bending all the powers of a most intelligent mind to master the difficulties of learning, but he was never idle in his hours of leisure; and so well employed his time, that Charles once observed, with a smile, that the sands in his hour-glass were all of gold!
We are commanded to _let_ our _light so shine before men, that they may see_ our _good works, and glorify_ our _Father which is in heaven_. The light of the young Lord of Fontonore shone brightly, enlightening some and cheering many. Until his little school could be finished, he assembled the poor children in an outhouse of the castle, and not only contributed, almost beyond his power, to pay the salary of a schoolmaster, but himself assisted in the task of tuition, and spoke to the little ones with such heart-fervour of the duties of a pilgrim and the love of the Saviour, that the cottagers said that the children never learned so much as when the young lord himself was their teacher. Ernest was often to be seen beneath the widow’s lowly roof: he would carry to the sick poor little comforts from his own table, and none knew how often he went without pleasures to himself, that he might afford to help those who needed his assistance. Large as was his allowance, his charity so drained it that self appeared almost forgotten; and the Lord of Fontonore was scarcely ever known to purchase anything for his own gratification. It was his habit, his privilege, his delight, to lay his treasures at the feet of his Lord; and thus, though the possessor of great wealth, the pilgrim pressed on, unclogged and unburdened by it.