“You are mixing up two very different things in your head, I think, Brown,” said the master, putting down the empty saucer, “and you ought to get clear about them.  You talk of ‘working to get your living,’ and ‘doing some real good in the world,’ in the same breath.  Now, you may be getting a very good living in a profession, and yet doing no good at all in the world, but quite the contrary, at the same time.  Keep the latter before you as your one object, and you will be right, whether you make a living or not; but if you dwell on the other, you’ll very likely drop into mere money-making, and let the world take care of itself for good or evil.  Don’t be in a hurry about finding your work in the world for yourself—­you are not old enough to judge for yourself yet; but just look about you in the place you find yourself in, and try to make things a little better and honester there.  You’ll find plenty to keep your hand in at Oxford, or wherever else you go.  And don’t be led away to think this part of the world important and that unimportant.  Every corner of the world is important.  No man knows whether this part or that is most so, but every man may do some honest work in his own corner.”  And then the good man went on to talk wisely to Tom of the sort of work which he might take up as an undergraduate, and warned him of the prevalent university sins, and explained to him the many and great differences between university and school life, till the twilight changed into darkness, and they heard the truant servants stealing in by the back entrance.

“I wonder where Arthur can be,” said Tom at last, looking at his watch; “why, it’s nearly half-past nine already.”

“Oh, he is comfortably at supper with the eleven, forgetful of his oldest friends,” said the master.  “Nothing has given me greater pleasure,” he went on, “than your friendship for him; it has been the making of you both.”

“Of me, at any rate,” answered Tom; “I should never have been here now but for him.  It was the luckiest chance in the world that sent him to Rugby and made him my chum.”

“Why do you talk of lucky chances?” said the master.  “I don’t know that there are any such things in the world; at any rate, there was neither luck nor chance in that matter.”

Tom looked at him inquiringly, and he went on.  “Do you remember when the Doctor lectured you and East at the end of one half-year, when you were in the shell, and had been getting into all sorts of scrapes?”

“Yes, well enough,” said Tom; “it was the half-year before Arthur came.”

“Exactly so,” answered the master.  “Now, I was with him a few minutes afterwards, and he was in great distress about you two.  And after some talk, we both agreed that you in particular wanted some object in the School beyond games and mischief; for it was quite clear that you never would make the regular school work your first object.  And so the Doctor, at the beginning of the next half-year,