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 minutes' bell began to ring, and
then in the face of the whole room he 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 the words of the publican, "God be
merciful to me a sinner!" He repeated them over and over,
and rose from his knees comforted and humbled, and ready to face
the whole world.
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