e temptation, how can you help
despising yourself? A little girl once came into the house and told
her mother something which was very improbable. Those who were
sitting in the room with her mother did not believe her, for they did
not know the character of the little girl. But the mother replied at
once, "I have no doubt that it is true, for I never knew my daughter
to tell a lie." Is there not something noble in having such a
character as this? Must not that little girl have felt happy in the
consciousness of thus possessing her mother's entire confidence? Oh,
how different must have been her feelings from those of the child
whose word cannot be believed, and who is regarded by every one with
suspicion! Shame, shame on the child who has not magnanimity enough
to tell the truth.

God will not allow such sins to go unpunished. Even in this world the
consequences are generally felt. God has given every person a
conscience, which approves that which is right, and condemns that
which is wrong. When we do any thing wrong, our consciences punish
us for it, and we are unhappy. When we do any thing that is right,
the approval of conscience is a reward. Every day you feel the power
of this conscience approving or condemning what you do. Sometimes a
person thinks that if he does wrong, and it is not found out, he
will escape punishment. But it is not so. He will be punished whether
it is found out or not. Conscience will punish him if no one else
does.

There was once a boy whose father sent him to ride a few miles upon
an errand, and told him particularly not to stop by the way. It was
a beautiful and sunny morning in the spring; and as he rode along by
the green fields, and heard the singing of the birds as they flew
from tree to tree, he felt as light-hearted and as happy as they.
After doing his errand, however, as he was returning by the house
where two of his friends and playmates lived, he thought he could not
resist the temptation just to call a moment to see them. He thought
there would be no great harm if he merely stopped a minute or two,
and his parents would never know it. Here commenced his sin. He
stopped, and was led to remain longer and longer, till he found he
had passed two hours in play. Then, with a troubled conscience, he
mounted his horse, and set his face towards home. The fields looked
as green, and the skies as bright and cloudless, as when he rode
along in the morning; but, oh, how different were hi