The Last Penny and Other Stories. Arthur Timothy Shay

had just graduated at one of our first literary institutions, and were about selecting professions. But in doing so, their acknowledged motives were, as may be gathered from what has gone before, very different. The one avowed a determination to be what he called a great man, that he might have the glory of greatness. The other tried to cherish a higher and better motive of action. Abercrombie was not long in deciding upon a profession. His choice was law. And the reason of his choice was, not that he might be useful to his fellow-men, but because in the profession of law he could come in contact with the great mass of the people in a way to make just such an impression upon them as he wished. In the practice of law, too, he could bring out his powers of oratory, and cultivate a habit of public speaking. It would, in fact, be a school in which to prepare himself for a broader sphere of action in the legislative halls of his country; for, at no point below a seat in the national legislature, did his ambition rest.

      "You have made your choice, I presume, before this," he said to his friend Harvey, in allusion to this subject.

      "Indeed, I have not," was the reply. "And I never felt so much at a loss how to make a decision in my life."

      "Well, I should think that you might decide very readily. I found no difficulty."

      "Then you have settled that matter?"

      "Oh, certainly; the law is to be my sphere of action—or rather, my stepping-stone to a higher place."

      "I cannot so easily decide the matter!"

      "Why not? If you study law, you will rise, inevitably. And in this profession, there is a much broader field of action for a man of talent, than there is in any other profession."

      "Perhaps you are right. But the difficult question with me is—'Can I be as useful in it?'"

      "Nonsense, Harvey! Do put away these foolish notions. If you don't, they will be the ruin of you."

      "I hope not. But if they do, I shall be ruined in a good cause."

      "I am really afraid, Harvey," Abercrombie said in a serious tone, "that you affect these ultra sentiments, or are self-deceived. It is my opinion that no man can act from such motives as you declare to be yours."

      "I did not know that I had declared myself governed by such motives. To say that, I know, would be saying too much, for I am painfully conscious of the existence and activity of motives very opposite. But what I mean to say is, that I am so clearly convinced that the motives of which I speak are the true ones, that I will not permit myself to come wholly under the influence of such as are opposite. And that is why I find a difficulty in choosing a profession. If I would permit myself to think only of rising in the world, for the sake of the world's estimation, I should not hesitate long. But I am afraid of confirming what I feel to be evil. And therefore it is that I am resolved to compel myself to choose from purer ends."

      "Then you are no longer a free agent."

      "Why not?"

      "Because, in that kind of compulsion, you cease to act from freedom."

      "Is it right, James, for us to compel ourselves to do right when we are inclined to do wrong? Certainly there is more freedom in being able to resist evil, than in being bound by it hand and foot, so as to be its passive slave."

      "You are a strange reasoner, Harvey."

      "If my conclusions are not rational, controvert them."

      "And have to talk for ever?"

      "No doubt you would, James, to drive me from positions that are to me as true as that the sun shines in heaven."

      "Exactly; and therefore it is useless to argue with you. But, to drop that point of the subject, to what profession do you most incline?"