328

THE YOUTHS CABINET.

sini

bad habits; and so, my mother, who was
very particular in respect to the company
I kept, while I was a boy, did not hesitate
to allow us to be together.

I said that William had no bad habits.
I ought to explain that a little. I mean
that he did not use profane and impure
language, and that he was not what is
called a bad boy. There was one bad
habit: about him, although that was of
such a nature that it is hardly proper to
speak of it as a wicked habit. I will tell
you what it was. He could hardly ever
deny a person, when he was asked to do
anything or to go anywhere. “But that
was a good trait in Bill's character, |
should think.” No, that is a great mis-
take. “Why, is it not right to oblige
everybody, as much as possible?” Cer-
tainly, when you can oblige every one
without doing wrong. Boys and girls,
and men and women, are often asked to
do something which would be a great in-
jury to them ; and perhaps, if they yield-
ed, they would disobey God. In that

case, it would be wrong to yield, you see. |

William Scott, because he was so anxious
to please everybody, or for some other
reason, used too often, as he grew older,
to do as he was urged to do, when by so
doing, he was the cause of a good deal
of mischief.

There were in our village, as there are,
I am sorry to say, in too many other
places in different parts of the country,
some young men that indulged in drink-
ing intoxicating liquors. Once in a while
they got together, and drank a good deal,
at’ which times they did a great many
foolish things, as if they were trying to
see which could act most like a brute.
Laughing Bill had scarcely tasted a drop
of liquor when he was fourteen years of

 

 

age. His father was strictly temperate in
his habits, and never furnished liquor to
his boys or any of his hired men. But
about this time, William was in company
with two or three dissipated young men |]
have alluded to, and they persuaded him
to go to the tavern with them the next
night. He could not say no. How
strange! Why, he must have known
that it would be dangerous to be in such
a place, with that kind of company, even
for one evening. But perhaps he did not
think much about it. Young people fre-
quently do things which they are sorry
for as long as they live, just because they
did not have their thoughts about them
at the time. They ought to think, though.
What are our thoughts good for, if we
cannot make use of them when we are
tempted to sin !

William yielded, and went to the tav-
ern. He did not mean to drink any in-
toxicating liquor when he consented to
go. He did not mean to drink after he
got to the tavern. But he was urged to
do so—urged strongly. He could not
refuse ; it would be unkind to do so, he
thought. His companions would be of
fended: so he drank. Poor fellow! how
little did he know, when he touched that
glass to his lips—how little did he know
what misery that apparently unimportant
act was to cost him. Though he was dis
gusted with what he saw and heard at
thé tavern, and left it with the determina-
tion never to visit it with such company
again, he did go there the second time,
with the same company, in less than three
weeks. You see he had hard work to
refuse, because he had formed the habit
of yielding. But he ought to have re-
fused. If he found it a hard task, he
should have worked harder at it—he