Tommy was all the time saying that when he grew up he wanted to be a great soldier. He meant to conquer men, and whole armies.
“But,” answered his mother, “isn’t there some conquest that you can make before you grow up?”
“Why, how can that be?” said Tommy; “I surely am not to fight the other boys, am I?”
“No, indeed,” said his mother; “but did you ever know that no one can conquer others until he has first conquered himself?”
“Why,” said Tommy, “surely I do not need to conquer myself. I can make myself mind,—see,” and with that he doubled up his fists, and stretched out his feet, and showed his mother how he could turn his body in any way he wished.
“Ah,” said his mother, “you promised me this morning that you would weed the front walk. I wonder what would happen if you should command your body to do that! Would it obey you?”
Tommy saw the point, and went out without a word to weed the walk. It was hard work, and he found it difficult indeed to make his hands obey his will, especially when the boys came by and wanted him to go swimming with them. He went to ask his mother.
“Where are the boys going?” she inquired. And then, when Tommy answered, “To Reed’s Pool,” she said, “You know your father thinks that that is a dangerous place, and I cannot let you go. But what is this, Tommy?” for his mother saw his lips beginning to quiver and the tears beginning to come; “I thought you said this morning that you did not need to conquer yourself, and now I see that you cannot even command your feelings.” At this Tommy went out with a smile on his face, and told the boys he could not go with them.
Later in the same day his neighbor Paul came to play croquet, but before they had played two games his mother heard angry words, and, looking out, saw the two boys almost come to blows. Paul went away sulkily as she approached, and Tommy explained that he had not been playing fairly. “Ah, but, my son,” said his mother, “you also got angry; and isn’t it necessary for one who expects to command others to be able to command his temper?”
And so it went on all day. Tommy found that it was hard work to command his feet to go on an errand. He found himself unable to keep his hands from meddling with his father’s new chess men. He found it quite impossible to restrain his tongue from answering back when an impudent boy made fun of him down street. And by the time night had come, talking it all over with his mother, he owned up that it was harder to command himself than he thought.
“But I am not going to give up,” he said. “I’ll get the better of myself yet.”
“With Christ’s help,” answered his mother, as she kissed him good-night.