"If any one asks me, then, to do him a favour or kindness, I should not, on any account, say no."

"That will depend, Thomas, in what manner you are to render him a kindness. If you can do so without really injuring yourself or others, then it is a duty which you owe to all men, to be kind, and render favours. You know, also, the precept, 'Whatsoever ye would that men should do unto you, do ye so to them.'"

"But the difficulty, I feel, will be for me to discriminate. When I am urged to do something by one whom I esteem, my regard for him, or my desire to render him a kindness, will be so strong as to obscure my judgment."

"A consciousness of this weakness in your character, Thomas, should put you upon your guard."

"That is very true, father. But I cannot help fearing for myself. Still, I shall never forget what you have said, and will try my best to act from a conviction of right."

"Do so, my son. And ever remember that a wrong action is always followed by pain of mind, and too frequently by evil consequences. If you would avoid these, ever act from a consciousness that you are doing right, without regard to others. If another asks you, from a selfish desire to benefit or gratify himself, to do that which your judgment tells you is wrong, surely you should have no hesitation in refusing."

The precept of his father, enforced when they were about parting, and at a time when his affections for that father were active and intense, lingered in the mind of Thomas Howland. He saw and felt its force, and resolved to act in obedience to it, if ever tempted to do wrong.

On leaving the paternal roof, he went to a distant town, and entered the store of a merchant, where were several young men nearly of his own age—that is, between eighteen and twenty. With one of these, named Boyd, he soon formed an intimate acquaintance. But, unfortunately, the moral character of this young man was far from being pure, or his principles from resting upon the firm basis of truth and honour.

Associated with him at the same desk day after day, his growing influence over Thomas Howland soon became apparent in inducing him to stay away from church on the Sabbath-day, and pass the time that had heretofore been spent in a place of worship in roaming about the wharves of the city, or in excursions into the country. This influence was slightly resisted; but Thomas felt ashamed or reluctant to use the word "No," on what seemed to all the young men around him a matter of so little importance. Still, his own heart condemned him, for he felt that it would pain his father and mother exceedingly if they knew that he neglected to attend church at least once on the Sabbath-day; and he was, besides, self-convicted of wrong in what seemed to him a violation of the command, "Remember the Sabbath-day," as he had been taught to regard that precept. But once having given way, he felt almost powerless to resist the influence that now bore upon him.