East stopped speaking, and pegged away more diligently than ever with his pencil. Tom was ready to cry. He felt half sorry at first that he had been confirmed himself. He seemed to have deserted his earliest friend, to have left him by himself at his worst need for those long years. He got up and went and sat by East, and put his arm over his shoulder.
"Dear old boy," he said, "how careless and selfish I've been! But why didn't you come and talk to Arthur and me?"
"I wish to Heaven I had," said East, "but I was a fool. It's too late talking of it now."
"Why too late? You want to be confirmed now, don't you?"
"I think so," said East. "I've thought about it a good deal; only often I fancy I must be changing, because I see it's to do me good here—just what stopped me last time. And then I go back again."
TOM'S PRESCRIPTION.
"I'll tell you now how 'twas with me," said Tom, warmly. "If it hadn't been for Arthur, I should have done just as you did. I hope I should. I honor you for it. But then he made it out just as if it was taking the weak side before all the world—going in once for all against everything that's strong and rich and proud and respectable, a little band of brothers against the whole world. And the Doctor seemed to say so, too, only he said a great deal more."
"Ah!" groaned East, "but there again, that's just another of my difficulties whenever I think about the matter. I don't want to be one of your saints, one of your elect,[22] whatever the right phrase is. My sympathies are all the other way; with the many, the poor wretches who run about the streets and don't go to church. Don't stare, Tom; mind, I'm telling you all that's in my heart,—as far as I know it,—but it's all a muddle. You must be gentle with me if you want to land me.[23] Now I've seen a deal of this sort of religion: I was bred up in it, and I can't stand it. If nineteen-twentieths of the world are to be left to uncovenanted mercies,[24] and that sort of thing, which means in plain English to go to destruction and the other twentieth are to rejoice at it all, why—"
"Oh I but, Harry, they're not, they don't," broke in Tom, really shocked. "Oh! how I wish Arthur hadn't gone! I'm such a fool about these things. But it's all you want, too, East; it is indeed. It cuts both ways somehow—being confirmed and taking the Sacrament. It makes you feel on the side of all the good and all the bad, too, of everybody in the world. Only there's some great, dark, strong power, which is crushing you and everybody else. That's what Christ conquered, and we've got to fight. What a fool I am. I can't explain. If Arthur were only here!"