[Gutenberg 24403] • The Young Lord, and Other Tales; to which is added Victorine Durocher

THE YOUNG LORD. "Lay not up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust do corrupt, and where thieves break through and steal. "But lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust doth corrupt, and where thieves do not break through nor steal. "For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also."-St. Matt. vi. 19, 20, 21. "How can we reward the little boy who has so honestly brought me the bracelet I lost at church yesterday?" said Mrs. Sidney to her only son Charles, who was now passing the Midsummer vacation with his widowed mother, at a pretty cottage in Devonshire, which had been the home of his early years. "I do not think people should be rewarded for common honesty," said Charles; "and the clasp contained such an excellent likeness of papa, whom every one in the village knew, that it would have been unsafe as well as dishonest for him not to have delivered it up." "I am sorry to find, Charles," said Mrs. Sidney, "that school has not weakened those selfish feelings which have so often caused me pain. You seem to me to think that every trifling gift I bestow upon another is robbing you; and, worse than all, I find you constantly wresting phrases from their real meaning to answer your own purposes. Thus, I agree with you that people should not look upon common honesty as anything beyond a simple duty which they would be culpable not to perform. But I am as well assured that honesty, even in this world, meets with its reward, as I am that it is our duty, when we find the poor and uneducated distinguished by this quality, to show our sense of it, and so make ourselves the instruments of this earthly reward, by every means in our power. I addressed you, Charles, on the subject, because I fondly hoped it would give you pleasure to offer some assistance in the matter; besides which, I thought that you might be more likely to hit upon something which in a pleasing manner would be of service to a boy of your own age-although only a cottager's child-than I could be. I am disappointed in this expectation, however, and can think of no other plan than giving him a small present in money, with some of your old clothes; he is, if anything, less than you, so there is very little doubt of the latter being of use to him." Now it happened that the honest little boy, who was named Thomas Bennett, had stood in the hall the whole time, and thus overheard the conversation. I am sure that you cannot wonder that he remembered it, with feelings far removed from love or gratitude to Charles Sidney. Any one who observed Charles Sidney, while his mamma examined his wardrobe to find what clothes she might choose to spare, would have been shocked at perceiving the selfish expression of his countenance. It seemed absolute pain for him to part even with articles which, he having quite outgrown them, were utterly useless to him, and which very likely the moths would soon have destroyed: for to accumulate and keep made the rule of his life. You may imagine what a serious trouble this unhappy disposition of her son was to Mrs. Sidney, who felt perhaps the more from contrasting his character with that of an elder brother, who had died from a lingering illness about two years previously, and who had been equally distinguished for a generous nature, which had sometimes led him to the opposite extreme of improvidence. Indeed, poor Frank had been known to debar himself of necessary comforts for the sake of assisting others. His pocket money was given away within an hour of its being received; his books were often torn or lost, from being indiscriminately lent; and the cold he caught