During the summer holidays he acted as tutor to an aristocratic family in the country. Fritz had warned him against saying everything he thought and doing everything he wanted, or disputing vehemently with his superiors. But the difficulty of submitting to the conventions of the social order could not be overcome. August's plans for the future were vacillating and embarrassing to the father. For a short time he cherished the idea of becoming a non-commissioned officer in a cavalry regiment, at another time the plan of spending his days as a country curate, joined in happy wedlock to a pretty waitress (a brand snatched from the fire), had captivated him. But the University conquered. At the University a man could be poor and badly dressed and yet be counted a gentleman; it was the only place where one could sing, get drunk and have fights with the police without losing social standing. There was a secret satisfaction in the thought. One day during the tutorage in the country the vicar, who was overworked, invited August to preach a "proof-sermon." The practice of permitting serious-minded students and undergraduates to try their priestly powers was not uncommon. The idea was glorious and irresistible. The baron, the baroness, the squires and the ladies would all have to listen reverently to August as the mouthpiece of the Lord. But he remembered that he was a freethinker. The orthodox conception of Jesus was no longer his. It was hypocrisy to accept the offer. And yet, he believed in God, he had thoughts to give, opinions he wanted to voice. He confessed to the vicar, who reassured him. If he believed in God, there was no real difficulty--the good Bishop Wallin had never mentioned Jesus in his sermons. August should only not talk too much about his aberrations. [Illustration: August Strindberg 1862--(Reproduced by kind permission of Messrs. Albert Bonnier, Stockholm)] [Illustration: August Strindberg 1870] The week during which the sermon was prepared, was rich in compensation for years of ignominy. Something within him responded with avidity to the call of the messenger, the prophet. The church was filled with people when August mounted the pulpit in clerical garb and with a beating heart. He prayed to the only true God to help him when now he wanted to strike a blow for truth. He spoke of conversion through free will and opened the gates of heaven to all--publicans and sinners, rulers and harlots--and denounced his old friends who were sunk in cruel and hypocritical self-conceit. He was deeply moved by his own eloquence. The vicar and the congregation forgave the irregularities, and the day ended in mutual satisfaction. The experience confirmed August's contempt of orthodox religion. He became the ringleader of a section in the highest class in the _Gymnasium_ which, in spite of threats and reprimands, refused to attend morning prayers. Once when the father begged him to go to church he replied: "Preach--I can do that myself."