eveth in him might not
perish, but have everlasting life?'"

"I believe it. I do not doubt the truth of any declaration of the Bible;
but there is an air of unreality about the truths which prevents my
acting as I should, if I really felt them to be true. I find that, in
order to believe, one needs to have the heart of a little child. My
heart is soiled, and hardened, and chilled by the devotion of my life to
the world. I would that I could become a child again!"

"That very desire indicates that you are approaching the temper of mind
which will authorize you to rely on the Divine promises."

"Do you think so? Do not encourage me to hope unless you are sure you
are authorized to do so. Do you believe that one who has given himself
for a lifetime to the world, to the pursuit of that which he must leave
behind him when he enters another world--do you believe that one who has
been so unwise and so wicked can recover what he has wilfully, not to
say willingly, lost?"

"I do not think that one can, strictly speaking, recover what he has
lost. That is, he cannot be what he would have been, if he had rightly
employed his time and advantages. The hours that are passed can never be
recalled, nor the particular blessings of which they might have been
ministers. Still, provision is made for those who have pursued the
course you have described--provision whereby they may be made partakers
of the Divine mercy."

"But, in order that one may be a partaker of that mercy, he must have a
peculiar temper of mind. His heart must be delivered from the hardness
induced by a lifetime of neglect of duty. I am far from possessing that
temper."

"Your consciousness of want is a hopeful sign. Let me, my dear uncle,
presume to offer you advice. Do not strive to bring your mind into a
condition which you imagine will render you an appropriate object of the
Divine mercy, but go at once to your Heavenly Father and tell him all
your faults, and all your difficulties, and all your wants. A sense of
need is all the preparation that is necessary for our approach to him.
It was this sense of need that induced the prodigal to arise and go to
his father. The manner in which he was received teaches us in what
manner our Heavenly Father will receive us."

Richard Clifton listened to the words of that young girl with more
interest than he had ever listened to the report of the most successful
voyage. He was not in the least displeased at being compared