“I do not know, sir; I wish I did; but I feel that I love him.”
“What do you love him for?”
“Because he is good to poor children’s souls like mine.”
“What has he done for you?”
“He died for me, sir; and what could he do more?”
“And what do you hope to gain by his death?”
“A good place when I die, if I believe in him, and love him.”
“Have you felt any uneasiness on account of your soul?”
“Oh, yes, sir, a great deal. When you used to talk to us children on Saturdays, I often felt as if I could hardly bear it, and wondered that others could seem so careless. I thought I was not fit to die. I thought of all the bad things I had ever done and said, and believed God must be very angry with me; for you often told us, that God would not be mocked; and that Christ said, if we were not converted, we could not go to heaven. Sometimes I thought I was so young it did not signify: and then, again, it seemed to me a great sin to think so; for I knew I was old enough to see what was right and what was wrong; and so God had a just right to be angry when I did wrong. Besides, I could see that my heart was not right; and how could such a heart be fit for heaven? Indeed, sir, I used to feel very uneasy.”
“My dear Jenny, I wish I had known all this before. Why did you never tell me about it?”