I remember hearing of two boys who were brothers. The elder was named George, the younger Charles.
“Hello, George,” said one of his schoolmates to him one day, “I hear your Charley has become a Christian; is that so?”
“I don’t know,” said George, “but I mean to find out.” Now George was going to apply some test to Charley’s character to find out if this was true.
One time he broke his kite, just before he was going out to fly it. At another time he stepped on his toe, when he was going past him. At another he threw a stone at Charley’s pet dog and sent him yelping to his master.
Charley was naturally a very passionate boy. George knew, very well, that formerly any one of these things would have caused him to flare up and get angry. George could see that Charley felt these things very much, but still he kept his anger down. His fist wasn’t clenched; his eye didn’t flash; his tongue didn’t scold as it used to do. Charley bore these trials patiently. And when George met his friend again, he said, “It’s true; Charley is a Christian. I know it, for I’ve tried him.”
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