How was this? I cannot tell; in such cases one often cannot tell. It may have been inherited by him from his mother, or it may have been induced from lessons learnt at school, or it may have risen as a reaction from the absolute hideousness of the evil that was round him in his home. I know that he could not remember any particular occasion which he could mention afterwards as that of his conversion, the tendency towards well-doing began in him at an earlier date than he could himself recall. At school he sought out the steadiest companions, on holidays he played with well-conducted boys; his nature, ill-taught as it was, possessed the power of assimilating to itself that which is good. ‘The wind bloweth,’ we read, ‘where it listeth, and thou hearest the sound thereof, but canst not tell whence it cometh, and whither it goeth: _so_ is everyone that is born of the Spirit.’ And now let us think again of Tim, twelve years old, sent out day after day to work, a member of a household to which it was a disgrace even to belong, and allowed by that household no smallest chance of improving his position or himself. His clothes were so ragged that respectable boys did not like to be seen with him; his food so limited that it barely provided him with strength enough to work; and every halfpenny of his wages was taken from him as regularly as Saturday night came round. Under such circumstances it is barely possible that a young nature should not be overwhelmed--it is not surprising therefore that Tim sank into despair, and for more than two years lived on in hopelessness. But the irresistible strength that was in the boy refused to be crushed even by such circumstances; a purpose grew in him like a revelation, and inspired him with hope to mend his lot. One Saturday evening Tim returned without his money, and announced that he intended to keep his wages for himself. The scene that followed need not be described. Tim lay on his bed through the whole of Sunday to recover from it. On Monday morning he returned to his work, under strict orders, seasoned with many oaths, to bring back at night the money he had withheld. He returned without it. This time there was no Sunday rest for him--but bruised as he was, he rose with the dawn on Tuesday and went to his work again. To a similar scene he returned on every evening of that week, but the close of the week found him unconquered; and on Saturday he came back to his family without his wages, as before.