The vice of all others which
he loathed was brought in and burnt in on his own soul. He had lied to
his mother, to his conscience, to his God. How could he bear it? And
then the poor little weak boy, whom he had pitied and almost scorned for
his weakness, had done that which he, braggart as he was, dared not do.
The first dawn of comfort came to him in swearing to himself that he
would stand by that boy through thick and thin, and cheer him, and help
him, and bear his burdens for the good deed done that night. Then he
resolved to write home next day and tell his mother all, and what a
coward her son had been. And then peace came to him as he resolved,
lastly, to bear his testimony next morning. The morning would be harder
than the night to begin with, but he felt that he could not afford to
let one chance slip. Several times he faltered, for the devil showed him
first all his old friends calling him "Saint" and "Square-toes," and
a dozen hard names, and whispered to him that his motives would be
misunderstood, and he would only be left alone with the new boy; whereas
it was his duty to keep all means of influence, that he might do good to
the largest number. And then came the more subtle temptation, "Shall I
not be showing myself braver than others by doing this? Have I any right
to begin it now? Ought I not rather to pray in my own study, letting
other boys know that I do so, and trying to lead them to it, while in
public at least I should go on as I have done?" However, his good angel
was too strong that night, and he turned on his side and slept, tired of
trying to reason, but resolved to follow the impulse which had been so
strong, and in which he had found peace.
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