Something within him kept whispering that he had bartered his soul for happiness.
'I have chosen the easier and therefore the baser way,' he said.

'I have shrunk from toil and pain.

I have refused to make the sacrifice demanded of me.' He went back again to the story of his father's vision.

For a moment it seemed quite clear that he had deliberately refused the call to the great fight, that he had judged himself unworthy, being cowardly and selfish in his heart.

Then he remembered that the Captain of whom his father had told him was no one else but Christ, the same Christ of whom Canon Beecher spoke, the Good Shepherd whose love he had discovered to be the greatest need of all.
'I must have Him,' he said--'I must have Him--and Marion.' Again with the renewed decision came a glow of happiness and a sense of rest, until there rose, as if to smite him, the thought of Ireland--of Ireland, poor, derided of strangers, deserted by her sons, roped in as a prize-ring where selfish men struggle ignobly for sordid gains The children of the land fled from it sick with despair.