LITTLE PREACHERS.
"GRANDPA, I do not think I would like to be a minister."
Grandpa looked at Harry over his spectacles.
He was not quite sure that he had heard the words aright.
"What is it you do not want to be?" inquired grandpa.
"A minister. I do not think I shall ever want to be one."
"What made you think of that, boy?—you are not old enough yet to know what you want to be."
"Yes, sir: I know I am not old enough yet, but Mr. Drawer said, yesterday, in Sabbath-school, that he wanted to see us all little preachers."
"What else did he say?"
"I did not hear much more than that, because, you know, grandpa, aunty sent me down the street just before Sabbath-school time, to ask Dr. Brewster to call in the afternoon, and so I was a little late."
"So Mr. Drawer wants to see you all little preachers?" said grandpa, thoughtfully. "Well, I like Mr. Drawer's words, only they are not strong enough."
"Not strong enough? What do you mean, grandpa?" inquired Harry, perplexed.
"If I had been saying the words, I would have said to the boys: You are all little preachers."
"That would have been very funny, grandpa; that would have been too funny for anything, and, grandpa, how could it be true? We are not ministers, any of us, and maybe never will be."
"Mr. Drawer did not mean to say anything about your being clergymen, or preaching to people in pulpits in church, did he?"
"No, sir; I did not hear him say just that."
"He did not mean that; he wanted to see you all little preachers of good."
"You do puzzle me so, grandpa," said Harry;
"It seems to all mean the same thing."
"Oh, no, not at all; for all boys and girls, and men and women living, are preachers; but of all these only a few are called clergymen, and preach in pulpits."
Harry began thinking that there was little use in trying to understand this, that it was something very new and very odd.
"But, grandpa," he said, "there are a great many boys, and girls too, who are not good, for sure they are not preachers."
"Now, you do make a mistake indeed! Preachers! Certainly they are, only they preach for the wrong side."
Harry looked up at grandpa, and gave him a funny little smile.
"For the wrong side?" Harry repeated the words, and stood with his head a little tossed back, thinking.
"You know that there is a right way and a wrong way of doing everything. Every single action of our lives is either right or wrong, there is no between about it. If an action is not right, it is wrong; if it is not wrong, it is right."
"Yes, grandpa, I know."
"There is a right way and a wrong way of thinking, as well as of acting. It is impossible to think or act at all without thinking or acting on the right side or the wrong side."
"But, grandpa, what has that to do with being preachers?"
"We will get to that part in a minute. There are always two powers which draw us to the right or the wrong,—the powers of good and of evil. The most simple thing we do inclines to the one or the other."
"Just play—like playing marbles—is not inclining to good or to evil, is it, grandpa?"
"Certainly. Play, if it is honest and fair, is good; if it is unjust, or done in bad temper, ill timed, or dishonestly, it becomes evil. Everything we do, from the time we begin to live, all during our lives, either inclines to good or to evil —is for God, or against him."
"But, grandpa, when papa goes to business every day, it is not doing anything for God, or against him, is it?"
"Certainly it is. It is right that your papa should go to his office and attend to his business when he gets there; if your papa is honest, and truthful, and earnest in his business, he is doing right. If it were possible for your dear papa to be dishonest, and untruthful, and careless in his business, then he would be doing wrong. Everything we do, my boy, is either right or wrong."
"But grandpa—"
"About the preachers Well, Harry, every act of our lives is a little chapter for God or against him. Every time you go out to play, you preach for God or against him. You do not mention his name. You do not get up on a high place and preach, by getting the boys around you, and telling them to be good. If you are good yourself, are honest, good tempered, truthful in your play, you preach on God's side; if you are dishonest, ill-tempered, untruthful, you preach on the wrong side—the side of evil."
"How very strange! It is more strange than Mr. Drawer's wish."
"But it is true, boy; nothing could be truer.
We all preach. We cannot help it. It is impossible to help it. The two boys who sat in Mr. Howard's pew yesterday morning—I am sure you will remember them—were preaching the whole of sermon-time."
"Grandpa, that is the very oddest thing of all,"
said Harry, laughing outright. "They sat right in front of us, and neither of them spoke the whole morning."
"Yet they both preached the whole morning.
One boy sat still and listened to every word of the sermon, and found the places of the hymns, and evidently remembered that he had come to church to worship God: he preached on the right side—on God's side. The other boy was turning over the leaves of the books; looking around the church—up at the windows, and about in the pews—and twisting about without listening to the sermon, or attending to the worship. He preached on the wrong side. Sometimes the very best preaching is done by sitting perfectly still."
"Grandpa, I never would have begun to think of such a thing, and do you really think that Mr. Drawer meant this kind of preaching?"
"Yes, my boy, and now you see how we are all preachers. Our actions are like powerful words. We preach by our lives. Nobody lives without preaching. Everybody preaches a little on the wrong side sometimes; everybody preaches a little on the right side sometimes; but when God comes to judge his preachers, he will look at the heart, and remember those who tried always to be on the good side. From a good, sincere heart, good thoughts and actions must come; from a bad heart, bad thoughts and actions must come; but, Harry, boy, always remember, that no matter what you want to be, you are a preacher."
Geo. Klingle