Rising suddenly in the excitement of remorse, gratitude, and many
feelings new to him, he hesitated for a moment, and then told his
story; he related his trials, his sins, his sorrows, his supposed
wrongs, his burning anger at the terrible fate of his only parent, and
his rage at the exultation of the crowd: his desolation on recovering
from his swoon, his thirst for vengeance, the attempt to satisfy it.
He spoke with untaught, child-like simplicity, without attempting to
suppress the emotions which successively overcame him.

When he ceased, the lady hastened to the crouching boy, and soothed
him with gentle words. The very tones of her voice were new to
him. They pierced his heart more acutely than the fiercest of the
upbraidings and denunciations of his old companions. He looked on
his merciful benefactors with bewildered tenderness. He kissed Mrs.
Leyton's hand then gently laid on his shoulder. He gazed about like
one in a dream who dreaded to wake. He became faint and staggered. He
was laid gently on a sofa, and Mr. and Mrs. Leyton left him.

Food was shortly administered to him, and after a time, when his
senses had become sufficiently collected, Mr. Leyton returned to the
study, and explained holy and beautiful things, which were new to
the neglected boy: of the great yet loving Father; of Him who loved
the poor, forlorn wretch, equally with the richest, and noblest, and
happiest; of the force and efficacy of the sweet beatitude, "Blessed
are the Merciful, for they shall obtain Mercy."

I heard this story from Mr. Leyton, during a visit to him in May.
George West was then head-plowman to a neighboring farmer, one of the
cleanest, best behaved, and moat respected laborers in the parish.