tant and earnest efforts at home, he had learned a great deal
that would help him in his career.
With all his good qualities of mind and heart, he was a little vain:
nay, it may be said of him at this time of his life that he was very
vain. His boyhood had lasted more years than boyhood generally does.
Hard times, the force of circumstances, his father's evil life, had kept
him down till lately; and he was now, at twenty-three, going through all
the feverish little attacks with regard to dress and appearance, and
other personal considerations, that sensible boys usually get over
before they are eighteen. He liked to be seen walking with the clerks
of the establishment, who considered themselves a step above him in the
social ladder, and took pleasure in the success he had enjoyed of late
in the frequent evening entertainments given among his friends.
Yet, in spite of this weakness, he was a true Christian, not in name,
but in reality--one who knew himself to have been bought at an infinite
price; and, knowing this, he realised something of the value of the poor
soul whom he might help to save from the ruin that threatened him, and
he knew himself to be honoured in that he was permitted to do so great a
work. But being, as has been said, vain and, in a small way, ambitious,
it did come into his mind that to have such a man as this Morely living
in his house--a man who could not be trusted to take care of himself, a
man who in his best days was only, as he thought, a common workman,
earning daily wages by the labour of his hand,--if did come into his
mind that all this would not help him in his upward social way. To be
seen in his company, to walk with him in the streets, to make the poor
man's interests his own, to care for him and watch over him as he must
do if he was really to help to save him, to win him to live a new life--
might--indeed, must--place him in circumstances not to be desired--
awkward and uncomfortable, as far as some of his friends were concerned.
Being, as we said, a Christian, and having a sincere, true heart, he
did not hesitate because of all this; but being vain, and in some things
foolish, his labour of love, which could in no case have been light, was
made all the heavier.
This was only a first experience. Afterwards all this went out of his
mind, as if it had never been there. He gave himself to the work with a
devotion that was worthy of the holy cause. What one man may do to save
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