"I believe it. I do not doubt the truth of any declaration of the Bible; but there is an air of unreality about the truths which prevents my acting as I should, if I really felt them to be true. I find that, in order to believe, one needs to have the heart of a little child. My heart is soiled, and hardened, and chilled by the devotion of my life to the world. I would that I could become a child again!"
"That very desire indicates that you are approaching the temper of mind which will authorize you to rely on the Divine promises."
"Do you think so? Do not encourage me to hope unless you are sure you are authorized to do so. Do you believe that one who has given himself for a lifetime to the world, to the pursuit of that which he must leave behind him when he enters another world--do you believe that one who has been so unwise and so wicked can recover what he has wilfully, not to say willingly, lost?"
"I do not think that one can, strictly speaking, recover what he has lost. That is, he cannot be what he would have been, if he had rightly employed his time and advantages. The hours that are passed can never be recalled, nor the particular blessings of which they might have been ministers. Still, provision is made for those who have pursued the course you have described--provision whereby they may be made partakers of the Divine mercy."
"But, in order that one may be a partaker of that mercy, he must have a peculiar temper of mind. His heart must be delivered from the hardness induced by a lifetime of neglect of duty. I am far from possessing that temper."
"Your consciousness of want is a hopeful sign. Let me, my dear uncle, presume to offer you advice. Do not strive to bring your mind into a condition which you imagine will render you an appropriate object of the Divine mercy, but go at once to your Heavenly Father and tell him all your faults, and all your difficulties, and all your wants. A sense of need is all the preparation that is necessary for our approach to him. It was this sense of need that induced the prodigal to arise and go to his father. The manner in which he was received teaches us in what manner our Heavenly Father will receive us."
Richard Clifton listened to the words of that young girl with more interest than he had ever listened to the report of the most successful voyage. He was not in the least displeased at being compared to the prodigal son. He determined at once to follow the advice so simply and affectionately given. He closed his eyes and concentrated the energies of his soul in mental prayer. The truths of the Bible were no longer to him dim and unreal. They were distinct realities. He felt that it was no vague desires and indefinite longings to which he was giving expression in order to relieve his feelings. He was conscious of offering petitions to a Being who was near at hand and not afar off.