A Story of Besetting Sins
"Do you remember anything of the sermon?"]
One Sunday, soon after the death of poor Miss Augusta Noble, Mrs.Fairchild, having a bad cold, could not go to church with the rest ofthe family. When the children were come home from church, Mrs.Fairchild asked Lucy what the sermon was about.
"Mamma," said Lucy, taking her Bible out of her little basket, "I willshow you the text; it is in Heb. xii. 1: 'Let us lay aside everyweight, and the sin which doth so easily beset us.'"
When Mrs. Fairchild had looked at the text, she said:
"And do you remember anything more of the sermon, Lucy?"
"Indeed, mamma," said Lucy, "I did not understand the sermon; it wasall about besetting sins. What are they, mamma?"
"I will explain," said Mrs. Fairchild. "Though our hearts are allnaturally sinful, yet every man is not inclined alike to every kind ofsin. One man, perhaps, is inclined to covetousness, another to swearand use bad words, another to lie and deceive, another to be angry andcruel; and that sin which a man feels himself most inclined to iscalled his besetting sin."
"Oh! now I know what besetting sins mean," answered Lucy. "Haseverybody a besetting sin, mamma?"
"Yes, my dear," answered Mrs. Fairchild; "we all have, although we donot all know what they are."
"Have I a besetting sin, mamma?" said Lucy.
"Yes, my dear," said Mrs. Fairchild.
"What is it, mamma?" asked Lucy.
"Can you not tell what fault you fall into oftener than any other?"said Mrs. Fairchild.
Lucy considered a little, and then answered she did not know.
"I think, my dear," said Mrs. Fairchild, "although it is hard to judgeany other person's heart, that your besetting sin is envy. I think Ihave often observed this fault in you. You were envious about Emily'sdoll, and about poor Miss Augusta Noble's fine house and clothes andservants, and about the muslin and ribbon I gave to Emily one day, andthe strawberry your papa gave to Henry; and I have often thought youshowed envy on other occasions."
Lucy looked grave when her mother spoke, and the tears came into hereyes.
"Mamma," she said, "I am a naughty girl; my heart is full of envy attimes; but I pray that God would take this sin out of my heart; and Ihate myself for it--you don't know how much, mamma."
"My dear child," said Mrs. Fairchild, kissing Lucy, "if you reallygrieve for your sins, and call in faith upon the Lord Jesus Christ, youwill surely in God's good time be set free from them. And now, mydear," added Mrs. Fairchild, "you know what is meant by the sin whichdoth so easily beset us; and you understand that every person has someone besetting sin."
"Yes, mamma," said Lucy, "and you have told me what my own besettingsin is, and I feel that you have found out the right one. But mamma,you said that many people do not know their own besetting sins."
"Yes, my dear," answered Mrs. Fairchild. "Careless people do not knowtheir hearts, and have no idea of their besetting sins; indeed, theywould laugh if you were to speak of such things before them."
Whilst Mrs. Fairchild was speaking these last words, they heard thedinner-bell ring; so they broke off their talk and went downstairs.Whilst Mr. and Mrs. Fairchild and all the family were sitting atdinner, they saw through the window a man on horseback, carrying alarge basket, ride up to the door. Mrs. Fairchild sent John out to seewho this person was; and John presently returned with a letter, and ahaunch of venison packed in a basket.
"Sir," said John, "the man says that he is one of Mr. Crosbie ofLondon's servants; and that he has brought you a letter with hismaster's compliments, and also a haunch of venison."
"Mr. Crosbie's servant!" said Mr. Fairchild, taking the letter andreading it aloud as follows:
"DEAR MR. FAIRCHILD,
"I and my wife, and my sister Miss Crosbie, and my daughter Betsy, have been taking a journey for our health this summer. We left London three months ago, and have been down as far as Yorkshire. We are now returning home, and have turned a little out of our way to see you, as it is as much as twelve years since we met; so you may look for us, no accident happening, to-morrow, a little before two. We hope to dine with you, and to go on in the evening to the next town, for our time is short. I have sent a fine haunch of venison which I bought yesterday from the innkeeper where we slept; it will be just fit for dressing to-morrow; so I shall be obliged to Mrs. Fairchild to order her cook to roast it by two o'clock, which is my dinner-hour. My man Thomas, who brings this letter, will tell the cook how I like to have my venison dressed; and he brings a pot of currant jelly, to make sauce, in case you should have none by you; though I dare say this precaution is not necessary, as Mrs. Fairchild, no doubt, has all these things by her. I am not particular about my eating; but I should be obliged to you if you would have the venison ready by two o'clock, and let Thomas direct your cook. My wife and sister and daughter Betsy send best compliments to our old friend, Mrs. Fairchild, and hoping we shall meet in health to-morrow,
"I remain, dear Mr. Fairchild, "Your old friend, "OBADIAH CROSBIE.
"P.S.--You will find the haunch excellent; we dined upon the neck yesterday, and it was the best I ever tasted."
When Mr. Fairchild had finished the letter, he smiled, and said:
"I shall be very glad to see our old friends, but I am sorry poor Mr.Crosbie still thinks so much about eating. It always was his besettingsin, and it seems to have grown stronger upon him as he has got older."
"Who is Mr. Crosbie, papa?" said Lucy.
"Mr. Crosbie, my dear," said Mr. Fairchild, "lives in London. He has alarge fortune which he got in trade. He has given up business someyears, and now lives upon his fortune. When your mamma and I were inLondon, twelve years ago, we were at Mr. Crosbie's house, where wewere very kindly treated; therefore we must do the best we can toreceive Mr. and Mrs. Crosbie kindly, and to make them as comfortable aspossible."
When John went to church that same evening, Mr. Fairchild desired himto tell nurse to come the next day to help Betty, for nurse was a verygood cook; and the next morning Mrs. Fairchild prepared everything toreceive Mr. and Mrs. Crosbie; and Mr. Fairchild invited Mr. Somers, theclergyman of the parish, to meet them at dinner. When the clock struckone, Mrs. Fairchild dressed herself and the children, and then wentinto a little tea-room, the window of which opened upon a small grassplot, surrounded by rose-bushes and other flowering shrubs. Mr. Somerscame in a little before two, and sat with Mrs. Fairchild.
When the clock struck two, Mr. Crosbie's family were not come, and Mr.Fairchild sent Henry to the garden gate to look if he could see thecarriage at a distance. When Henry returned he said that he could seethe carriage, but it was still a good way off.
"I am afraid the venison will be over-roasted," said Mrs. Fairchild,smiling.
Henry soon after went to the gate, and got there just in time to openit wide for Mr. Crosbie's carriage. Mr. and Mrs. Fairchild ran out toreceive their friends.
"I am glad to see you once again," said Mr. Crosbie, as he stepped outof the coach, followed by Mrs. Crosbie, Miss Crosbie, Miss Betsy, andMrs. Crosbie's maid.
Mr. Crosbie was a very fat man, with a red face, yet he lookedgood-humoured, and had, in his younger days, been handsome. Mrs.Crosbie was a little thin woman, and there was nothing in herappearance which pleased Emily and Lucy, though she spoke civilly tothem. Miss Crosbie was as old as her brother, but she did not look so,for her face was painted red and white; and she and Miss Betsy hadsky-blue hats and tippets, with white feathers, which Lucy and Emilythought very beautiful.
"Have you any company, Mrs. Fairchild?" said Miss Crosbie, as Mrs.Fairchild was leading them into the parlour.
"Only one gentleman, Mr. Somers, our rector," said Mrs. Fairchild.
"Oh! then I must not appear in this gown! and my hair, too, is allrough," said Miss Crosbie; "I must put on another gown; I am quitefrightful to look at!"
"Indeed," said Mrs. Fairchild, "your dress is very nice; there is noneed to trouble yourself to alter it."
"Oh, sister," said Mrs. Crosbie, "don't think of changing your dress;Mrs. Fairchild's dinner is ready, I dare say."
Miss Crosbie would not be persuaded, but, calling the maid to attendher, ran upstairs to change her dress: and Mrs. Fairchild sent Lucyafter her. The rest of the company then went into the tea-room, wherethey sat round the window, and Mr. Crosbie said:
"What a pretty place you have here, Mr. Fairchild; and a good wife, asI well know--and these pretty children! You ought to be a happy man."
"And so I am, thank God," said Mr. Fairchild, "as happy as any man inthe world."
"I should have been with you an hour ago," said Mr. Crosbie, "that Imight have walked over your garden before dinner, but for my wifethere."
"What of your wife there?" said Mrs. Crosbie, turning sharply towardshim. "Now mind, Mr. Crosbie, if the venison is over-roasted, don't sayit is my fault."
Mr. Crosbie took out his watch.
"It is now twenty-five minutes past two," said he; "the venison hasbeen down at the fire twenty-five minutes longer than it should havebeen. And did you not keep us an hour waiting this morning, at the innwhere we slept, whilst you quarrelled with the innkeeper and his wife?"
Mrs. Crosbie answered:
"You are always giving people to understand that I am ill-tempered, Mr.Crosbie; which I think is very unhandsome of you, Mr. Crosbie. There isnot another person in the world who thinks me ill-tempered but you. AskThomas, or my maid, what they know of my temper, and ask your sister,who has lived with me long enough."
"Why don't you ask _me_ what I think of it, mamma?" said Miss Betsy,pertly.
"Hold your tongue, miss!" said Mrs. Crosbie.
"Must I not speak?" said Miss Betsy in a low voice, but loud enough forher mamma to hear her.
When Miss Betsy first came in, Emily admired her very much; for,besides the sky-blue hat and feather, she had blue satin shoes, and avery large pair of gold earrings; but when she heard her speak soboldly to her mother she did not like her so much. By this time Johncame to tell the company that dinner was on the table; and Mr. Crosbiegot up, saying:
"The venison smells well--exceedingly well."
"But where is Miss Crosbie?" asked Mr. Fairchild.
"Oh, my aunt thought herself not smart enough to show herself beforeMr. Somers," said Miss Betsy pertly.
"Be silent, miss," said Mrs. Crosbie.
"Don't wait for her, then," said Mr. Crosbie; "let us go in to dinner.My sister loves a little finery; she would rather lose her dinner thannot be dressed smart; I never wait for her at any meal. Come, come!Ladies lead the way; I am very hungry."
So Mrs. Fairchild sent Emily to tell Miss Crosbie that dinner wasready, and the rest of the company sat down to table.
"Mrs. Crosbie," said Mr. Crosbie, looking at the venison, then at hiswife, "the venison is too much roasted; I told you it would be so."
"What! finding fault with me again, Mr. Crosbie?" said Mrs. Crosbie."Do you hear Mr. Fairchild finding fault with his wife in this manner?"
"Perhaps the venison is better than you think, Mr. Crosbie," said Mr.Somers; "let me help you to some. Mr. Fairchild, I know, is not fond ofcarving."
Mr. Crosbie thanked Mr. Somers; and Mr. Somers had just begun to cutthe venison, when Mr. Crosbie called out, as if in agony:
"Oh, Mr. Somers, you will spoil the venison! You must not cut it thatway upon any account. Do put the haunch by me, and let me help myself."
"What confusion you are making at the table, Mr. Crosbie!" said Mrs.Crosbie. "You are putting every dish out of its place! Surely Mr.Somers knows how to carve as well as you do."
"But papa is afraid Mr. Somers won't give him all the nice bits," saidMiss Betsy.
"Learn to be silent, miss!" said Mr. Crosbie.
Miss Betsy was going to answer her father, when Miss Crosbie came intothe room, newly dressed in a very elegant manner. She came smiling in,followed by Lucy and Emily, who went to sit at a small table withHenry.
"Sister," said Mrs. Crosbie, "where was the need of your dressingagain? If we had waited for you, the dinner would have been spoiled."
"But we did not wait for Miss Crosbie, so there was no harm done," saidMr. Fairchild, smiling.
"My aunt would not lose an opportunity of showing her new-fashionedgown for the world!" said Miss Betsy.
"Indeed, niece," answered Miss Crosbie, "I do not know why you shouldsay that I am fond of showing my clothes. I wish to be neat and clean,but no person cares less than I do about fashions and finery."
"La!" says Miss Betsy, whispering to Mrs. Fairchild "hear my aunt! shesays she does not care about finery! That's like mamma saying howgood-natured she is!"
"Fie, fie, Miss Betsy!" said Mrs. Fairchild, speaking low; "you forgetyour respect to your elders."
Miss Betsy coloured, and stared at Mrs. Fairchild. She had not beenused to be found fault with; for she was spoiled by both her parents;and she felt quite angry.
"Indeed!" she said, "I never was thought disrespectful to anyonebefore. Can't I see people's faults? Can't I see that mamma is cross,and my aunt fond of fine clothes, and that papa loves eating?"
"Hush! hush!" said Mrs. Fairchild, in a low voice; "your papa and mammawill hear you."
"And I don't care if they do," said Miss Betsy: "they know what Ithink."
"What's that you are saying there, Miss Betsy?" said Mr. Crosbie.
"Oh, don't ask, brother," said Miss Crosbie; "I know it is somethingsaucy, by my niece's looks."
"And why should you suppose I am saying anything saucy, aunt?" saidMiss Betsy; "I am sure you are not accustomed to hear me say saucythings."
"Miss! Miss! be quiet!" said Mrs. Crosbie; for she was afraid Mr. andMrs. Fairchild would think her daughter ill-behaved.
"What, mamma!" answered Miss Betsy, "am I to sit quietly and hear myaunt find fault with me before company--and for being impertinent, too,to my elders--as if I were a mere child?"
"Well, well--enough!" said Mr. Crosbie. "What is that pie, Mrs.Fairchild, in the middle of the table? I must have some, if youplease."
Mr. and Mrs. Fairchild were not sorry when dinner was over, and Mrs.Crosbie proposed that Mrs. Fairchild should show her the garden.Accordingly, the ladies and children got up, and left the gentlementogether; for Mr. Crosbie never stirred for some time after dinner.When Mrs. Crosbie had got into the garden, and had looked about her,she said:
"Ah, Mrs. Fairchild, how happy you are! Such a pretty house andgarden!--such a kind husband!--such good children!" Then she sighed,and gave Mrs. Fairchild to understand that she was not so happyherself.
After tea, Mr. Crosbie and his family took their leave, and went off tothe next inn upon the London road, where they were to sleep; for Mr.Crosbie was in haste to be at home, and would not stay, although Mr.and Mrs. Fairchild begged that they would--at least till the next day.When they were gone, Mr. Fairchild and Henry took a walk towards thevillage with Mr. Somers, whilst the little girls remained at home withtheir mother.
"Dear Lucy," said Mrs. Fairchild, as soon as she was alone with herlittle girls, "do you remember what we were speaking about yesterday,before Mr. Crosbie's letter came?"
"Yes, mamma," said Lucy; "we were speaking of besetting sins, and yousaid that everybody has a besetting sin, and you told me what youbelieved mine to be."
"True, my dear," answered Mrs. Fairchild: "I told you that, withoutthe help of the Holy Spirit of God, very few people know what their ownbesetting sins are. You had an opportunity to-day of observing this:every individual of our friend Mr. Crosbie's family has a very strongbesetting sin; Mr. Crosbie loves eating; Mrs. Crosbie is ill-tempered;Miss Crosbie is vain, and fond of finery; and Miss Betsy is very pertand forward. We can see these faults in them, and they can see them ineach other; but it is plain they do not see them in themselves. Mr.Crosbie said several times that he was not particular about what he ateor drank; Mrs. Crosbie
said that there was not a person in the worldwho thought her ill-tempered but her husband; Miss Crosbie said thatnobody in the world cared less for finery than she did; and Miss Betsywas quite offended when she was told she was not respectful in hermanners to her elders."
"Oh, yes!" said Emily; "she said, 'I am not saucy; of all faults,sauciness is not one of my faults, I am sure;' and I thought all thetime she looked as saucy and impertinent as possible."
"And how Mr. Crosbie did eat!" said Lucy; "he ate half the haunch ofvenison! And then he was helped twice to pigeon-pie; and then he ateapple-tart and custard; and then----"
"Well, well! you have said enough, Lucy," said Mrs. Fairchild,interrupting her. "I do not speak of our poor friends' faults out ofmalice, or for the sake of making a mockery of them; but to show youhow people may live in the constant practice of one particular sinwithout being at all conscious of it, and perhaps thinking themselvesvery good all the time. We are all quick enough, my dear Emily andLucy, in finding out other people's faults; but, as I said before, weare often very blind to our own."
"Mamma," said Lucy, "do you know any prayer about besetting sins?"
"Yes, my dear," answered Mrs. Fairchild; "I have one in my own book ofprayers; and I will copy it out for you to-morrow morning."
So Mrs. Fairchild broke off her conversation with her little girls, andbade them go and play a little before bedtime.
"_Miss Betsy._"--Page 137.]
The Fairchild Family Page 17