e will not go. The liar must have things
he will not lie about, the thief things he will not steal, the
compromiser things he will not compromise, the practical man in the
pulpit, in politics, in business, in the professor's chair, or
editorial tribune, things he will not sacrifice, whatever the cost. That
is "practical honor." I had reached my line of practical honor, my line
between possible compromise and certain demoralization. And I realized
it.

When the roll-call ended I rose, and, in a voice that I knew was firm
and clear, said: "Mr. Speaker, I voted in the negative by mistake. I
wish my vote recorded in the affirmative. I am against the bill."

Amid a fearful silence I took my seat. With a suddenness that made me
leap, a wild and crazy assemblyman, noted as the crank of that session,
emitted a fantastic yell of enthusiastic approval. Again there was that
silence; then the tension of the assembly, floor and crowded galleries,
burst in a storm of hysterical laughter.

I wish I could boast how brave I felt as I reversed my vote, how
indifferent to that tempest of mockery, and how strong as I went forth
to meet my master and hear my death-warrant. But I can't, in
honesty,--I'm only a human being, not a hero, and these are my
_con_fessions, not my _pro_fessions. So I must relate that, though the
voice that requested the change of vote was calm and courageous, the man
behind it was agitated and sick with dread. There may be those who have
the absolute courage some men boast,--if not directly, then by
implication in despising him who shows that he has it not. For myself, I
must say that I never made a venture,--and my life has been a succession
of ventures, often with my whole stake upon the table,--I never made a
venture that I did not have a sickening sensation at the heart. My
courage, if it can be called by so sounding a name, has been in daring
to make the throw when every atom of me was shrieking, "You'll lose!
You'll be ruined!"

I did not see Dominick until after supper. I had nerved myself for a
scene,--indeed, I had been hoping he would insult me. When one lacks the
courage boldly to advance along the perilous course his intelligence
counsels, he is lucky if he can and will goad some one into kicking him
along it past the point where retreat is possible. Such methods of
advance are not dignified, but then, is life dignified? To my surprise
and alarm, Dominick refused to kick me into manhood. He had been