Henry was the one of my companions who had most purposes in his head. He was a clever boy, about my own age; but he knew it, and never would exert himself. He was careless about his lessons, and never used to look at some of them till he was in the school-room; yet he purposed to gain the first prize in his class. He did not say much about it, but he evidently took for granted that it would easily be his. Weeks and months passed away, and frequently Henry suffered for his carelessness. Boys, who were not his equals, got and kept ahead of him by their superior application. The master used to tell Henry that he would regret his negligence; and then, for a few days, Henry’s talents were applied, and he regained his place; but it did not last, his indolence prevailed, and again he relapsed. The session drew to a close. Most of the boys now doubted whether Henry would come off first. The competitions took place, and each boy lodged his papers. Henry did exert himself then, but it was too late. Before the assembled school the names of the successful competitors were read. Henry’s name stood _third_,—his purpose was not of the heart but just of the head, and nothing came of it. He _purposed, but he did not do_. There was another boy older than Henry at the school, whose purposes were all on his tongue. You never could be long beside him without hearing him tell what “he could do.” It did not matter who you were speaking of, or what they had done, Richard could do more. Little boys, the first week they were at the academy, looked up to Richard with much reverence, for they believed what he said of himself, but the second week they knew him better; for though his tongue spoke of great things, he did very little; and in a short while longer, they found out that Richard was a boaster, a vain-bragger, who gave his tongue all the work that his head, feet, and hands should have done; all his purposes were on his tongue, but he never performed them. James Ferrier was very unlike either of these boys; his father was a poor man; and James was despised by many of the boys, when he came among them, because his jacket was coarse, and his dress clumsily made. But he cared not; quietly and calmly he took his seat in the class where Henry was, and though he had been two years shorter time at Latin than the other boys of the class, it was he whose name stood first on the list, when Henry stood third. He had no tutor at home to help him; he had far to walk to the class; and his time for his lessons was shortened by duties he had to do at home. Still James succeeded, because he had a purpose in his heart,—he did not think about it,—he did not speak about his purpose, but _he did it_!