The Child at Home | Page 9

had told a lie then, it
is by no means improbable that he would have gone on from falsehood to falsehood, till
every body would have despised him. And he would thus have become a disgrace to his
parents and friends, instead of a blessing to his country and the world. No boy, who has
one particle of that noble spirit which George Washington had, will tell a lie. It is one of
the most degrading of sins. There is no one who does not regard a liar with contempt.
Almost always, when a lie is told, two sins are committed. The first is, the child has done
something which he knows to be wrong. And the second is, that he has not courage
enough to admit it, and tells a lie to hide his fault. And therefore, when a child tells a lie,
you may always know that that child is a coward. George Washington was a brave man.
When duty called him, he feared not to meet danger and death. He would march to the
mouth of the cannon in the hour of battle; he would ride through the field when bullets
were flying in every direction, and strewing the ground with the dead, and not a nerve
would tremble. Now, we see that George Washington was brave when a boy, as well as
when a man. He scorned to tell a lie, and, like a noble-hearted boy, as he was, he honestly
avowed the truth. Every body admires courage, and every body despises cowardice. The
liar, whether he be a boy or a man, is looked upon with disgust.
Cases will occur in which you will be strongly tempted to say that which is false. But if
you yield to the temptation, how can you help despising yourself? A little girl once came
into the house and told her mother something which was very improbable. Those who
were sitting in the room with her mother did not believe her, for they did not know the
character of the little girl. But the mother replied at once, "I have no doubt that it is true,
for I never knew my daughter to tell a lie." Is there not something noble in having such a
character as this? Must not that little girl have felt happy in the consciousness of thus
possessing her mother's entire confidence? Oh, how different must have been her feelings
from those of the child whose word cannot be believed, and who is regarded by every one
with suspicion! Shame, shame on the child who has not magnanimity enough to tell the
truth.
God will not allow such sins to go unpunished. Even in this world the consequences are
generally felt. God has given every person a conscience, which approves that which is
right, and condemns that which is wrong. When we do any thing wrong, our consciences
punish us for it, and we are unhappy. When we do any thing that is right, the approval of
conscience is a reward. Every day you feel the power of this conscience approving or
condemning what you do. Sometimes a person thinks that if he does wrong, and it is not
found out, he will escape punishment. But it is not so. He will be punished whether it is
found out or not. Conscience will punish him if no one else does.
There was once a boy whose father sent him to ride a few miles upon an errand, and told
him particularly not to stop by the way. It was a beautiful and sunny morning in the
spring; and as he rode along by the green fields, and heard the singing of the birds as they

flew from tree to tree, he felt as light-hearted and as happy as they. After doing his errand,
however, as he was returning by the house where two of his friends and playmates lived,
he thought he could not resist the temptation just to call a moment to see them. He
thought there would be no great harm if he merely stopped a minute or two, and his
parents would never know it. Here commenced his sin. He stopped, and was led to
remain longer and longer, till he found he had passed two hours in play. Then, with a
troubled conscience, he mounted his horse, and set his face towards home. The fields
looked as green, and the skies as bright and cloudless, as when he rode along in the
morning; but, oh, how different were his feelings! Then he was innocent and happy; now
he was guilty and wretched. He tried to feel easy, but he could not; conscience
reproached him with his sin. He rode sadly along, thinking what excuse he should make
to his parents for his