“No, my boy, I trust you will be always, as now, your father’s joy and pride,” responded the captain, again pressing affectionately the hand he held. “Rest assured that nothing but wrong doing on your part can ever make you any thing else. Nor would even that rob you of his love.”
“Then, papa, I think I shall never try to hide my faults from you,” returned the lad with impulsive warmth; “for I’m sure a fellow feels a great deal more comfortable when he isn’t trying to make believe to his father that he is a better boy than he is really.”
“Yes; when his effort is not merely to seem, but to be all that he knows his best earthly friend would have him. You needn’t stand in awe of me, Max, as of one who knows nothing by experience of sinning and repenting. I sometimes think you are a better boy than I was at your age, and I hope to see you grow up to be a better man than I am now.”
“Why, papa, I never see you do wrong, and I don’t believe you ever do,” said Max.
“I do try to live right, Max,” his father answered, “to keep the commands of God, honoring him in all my ways, and setting a good example to my children, but I am conscious of many shortcomings, and could have no hope of heaven but for the atoning blood and imputed righteousness of Christ.”
“And that’s the only way any body can be saved?” Max said in a low tone between inquiry and assertion.
“Yes, my boy; for all human righteousnesses are as filthy rags in the sight of Him who is of purer eyes than to behold evil, and can not look upon iniquity.”
“Papa,” Max said, after a moment’s thoughtful silence, “I’m afraid you wouldn’t think it from the way I act and talk, but I have really been trying to be a Christian ever since that time when I wrote you that I hoped I had given myself to God.”
“My dear boy, I have noticed your efforts,” was the kindly response; “I see that you try to control your temper, and are always truthful, and obedient and respectful to me, kind and obliging to others.”
“But you know, papa, it’s only a few weeks since you came home, and you haven’t found me out yet,” replied Max, näively. “I’ve often a very hard fight with myself to go right, and sometimes I fail in spite of it; then I grow discouraged; and so I’m ever so much obliged to you for telling me that it’s a good deal the same way with you. It makes a fellow feel better, you see, to find out that even those he respects the most don’t always find it easy to do and feel just as they want to.”