and the good man was not a little affected by the recital of my early
trials, poverty, and temptation. It did not seem a very good life when
spread out in that presence, and I trembled as I proceeded; but I plead
youth, inexperience, and bad examples.

"Have you been accustomed," he said, after a time, rather sadly, "to
break the Sabbath?"

I told him frankly that I had been rather lax in that matter, especially
at college. I often went to sleep in the chapel on Sunday, when I was
not reading some entertaining book. He then asked who the preacher was,
and when I told him, he remarked that I was not so much to blame as he
had supposed.

"Have you," he went on, "ever stolen, or told any lie?"

I was able to say no, except admitting as to the first, usual college
"conveyances," and as to the last, an occasional "blinder" to the
professors. He was gracious enough to say that these could be overlooked
as incident to the occasion.

"Have you ever been dissipated, living riotously and keeping late
hours?"

"Yes."

This also could be forgiven me as an incident of youth.

"Did you ever," he went on, "commit the crime of using intoxicating
drinks as a beverage?"

I answered that I had never been a habitual drinker, that I had never
been what was called a "moderate drinker," that I had never gone to a
bar and drank alone; but that I had been accustomed, in company with
other young men, on convivial occasions to taste the pleasures of the
flowing bowl, sometimes to excess, but that I had also tasted the
pains of it, and for months before my demise had refrained from liquor
altogether. The holy man looked grave, but, after reflection, said this
might also be overlooked in a young man.

"What," continued he, in tones still more serious, "has been your
conduct with regard to the other sex?"

I fell upon my knees in a tremor of fear. I pulled from my bosom
a little book like the one Leperello exhibits in the opera of "Don
Giovanni." There, I said, was a record of my flirtation and inconstancy.
I waited long for the decision, but it came in mercy.

"Rise," he cried; "young men will be young men, I suppose. We shall
forgive this also to your youth and penitence."

"Your examination is satisfactory, he informed me," after a pause; "you
can now enter the abodes of the happy."

Joy leaped within me. We approached the gate. The key turned in the
lock. The gate swung noiselessly on its hinges a little open. Out
flashed upo