Eric was more humbled in spirit than the priest thought reasonable. He remembered having once said, that the man who consecrates himself to an idea must renounce all else; and now he was humiliated by standing in the presence of one who, in his way, acted up to this sentiment, while he himself had allowed the excitement of mental dissipation to drag him down from his high standard.
The priest repeated, that is all our plans we should take into account the wickedness of mankind; and Eric, who hardly knew what answer to make, assured him that he was well aware of the necessity, having voluntarily passed some time in a House of Correction, for the sake of restoring guilty men to their better selves. Neither Eric nor the priest, who praised him, noticed the effect which this confession produced upon Roland. He was, then, in the hands of a man who had tried to counsel criminals, who had lived in a House of Correction! A fear and repugnance took possession of the boy's soul. Eric's motive was forgotten; Roland seemed to himself humiliated. He sat a long time silently buried in thought, his face covered with his hands.
The priest approached him at last, and admonished him not to let this accident dishearten him, but only let it teach him not to place his trust in the treasures of this world, particularly in his own possessions; neither to have that so-called faith in humanity, which is a deceitful faith, exposed to daily shocks; for there was but one sure and abiding faith, that in God, the supreme being, eternal and unchanging, who never deceives.
Roland remained silent and absorbed for some time after he and Eric were left alone; finally he asked:—
"Does my father know what you once were?"
"Yes."
"Why did you not tell me?"
"Why? I had no reason for concealing it from you, or for telling you."
The boy again covered his face with his hands, and Eric, feeling that the course he was here called upon to defend was one undertaken from the purest motives, while within him he was conscious of a guilt which none but himself could upbraid him with, explained to Roland how he had felt it his duty to devote himself to the most unhappy. He spoke so touchingly that the boy suddenly raised his head, and, holding out his hand to him, exclaimed in a tone of the deepest feeling:—
"Forgive me! Ah, you are better than all."