"Satisfied! I—why—I don't know what you mean, sir; I have tried to do the best I could, I believe."
"Do you really think so, Howard?"
"Yes, sir."
"Did you think so last evening, in the prayer-meeting? Can a boy, who is as well taught as you have been, feel that he is doing as well as he can, when he knows that he is every day cheating God?"
Howard's face fairly burned.
"I don't understand you, sir."
"Don't you?" and Mr. Burrows' voice was very kind. "I wish that God's own Spirit might help you to understand it. Didn't your father and mother promise God, when you were born, to try to train you up for Him, because you belonged to Him, and they knew it? Now, haven't they done their duty? is it their fault that you are not a Christian?"
"No, sir."
"Then it comes back to you. You belong to God, body and soul: He made you; He has kept you; He would save you, only you will not let Him. You can't help the fact that you belong to Him; all you can do is to refuse to give Him your love, and let Him lead you to heaven, and this you are doing. Is it right?"
Howard was growing haughty.