hat 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.

Next morning he was up and washed and dressed, all but his jacket and
waistcoat, just as the ten minute's bell began to ring, and then in the
face of the whole room knelt down to pray. Not five words could he
say--the bell mocked him; he was listening for every whisper in the
room--what were they all thinking of him? He was ashamed to go on
kneeling, ashamed to rise from his knees. At last, as it were from his
inmost heart, a still small voice seemed to breathe forth words of the
publican, "God be merciful to me a sinner!" He repeated them over and
over, clinging to them as for his life, and rose from his knees
comforted and humbled, and ready to face the whole world. It was not
needed: two other boys besides Arthur had already followed his example,
and he went down to the great school with a glimmering of another lesson
in his heart--the lesson that he who has conquered his own coward spirit
has conquered the whole outward world; and that other one which the old
prophet learned in the cave of Mount Horeb, when he hid his face, and
the still small voice asked, "What doest thou here, Elijah?" that
however we may fancy ourselves alone on the side of good, the King and
Lord of men is nowhere without His witnesses; for in every society,
however seeming