When Mr. Earle asked, "Perry, could you give up evil associates, strong drink, and gambling?" Perry winced slightly at the plain words, but answered very decidedly—
"Yes, sir. I've got past that. The very thought of those things is a horror to me. But—there are other things in the way."
"Do you imagine that there will ever come a time when the way will seem perfectly clear?" asked the pastor.
"Perhaps not; but if I could got around one or two things it wouldn't be so hard; but I can't get around them. I'd have to go right through."
"Perry, there is nothing it would not be worthwhile to give up—no duty too hard, no cross too heavy, for the sake of God's favour. Don't let anything keep you from grasping the hand that Christ holds out to you. And let me tell you that the very things you dread will seem very different to you when the cloud of God's displeasure is lifted, and you walk in the sunlight of sin forgiven."
"I can't do it, Mr. Earle. I want to be a Christian, I surely do, but I'm afraid I can't. No matter—don't think any more about me. Work and pray for somebody else, and let me go."
"No," replied Mr. Earle, "we can't let you go. You will not be so foolish. Whatever your stumbling block may be, Christ will help you to pass it—only ask Him to help you."
Perry went home and spent a night of conflict. It did seem that there never were so many things to hinder a boy from coming to Christ. Satan contested every step of the way. Perry had gained many points, but here was this thing, the something that Mr. Earle could not come at. It loomed up before him, darkened the way, seeming to shut him out of heaven. To be sure there was a way through it, as he said. It was right through it. But could he do it?
Could he go to Mr. Wynn and tell him that a year ago when he had charge of the books for a few days, during the brief illness of Morris Clarke, he had made false entries to cover up a theft he had committed? It was a small sum, and apparently had never been missed; and he had almost forgotten it himself, until now his quickened and tender conscience kept it continually before him. The money went, with a great deal more, to pay gambling debts. Doubtless his father would replace it, but, of course, dismissal would follow disclosure. And this wasn't all. While treasurer of the Sunday-school missionary society he had used some of the funds intrusted to him. If he could only quietly refund this money and the other, and have no noise made about it!—but this thought gave him no comfort.
In the first place, he could not very well do it; and besides he felt that God required that he should confess his sin—and here was his stumbling block. Here he halted, as we have said, for days. Thinking it over and over, he remembered Mr. Earle's earnest: