Sherwood's letter had pleased him so much, precisely because it praised his resolve as courageous, manly.

On manliness of spirit, Will had always piqued himself; it was his pride that he carried a heart equal to any lot imposed upon him by duty.

Yet little more than a twelvemonth of shopkeeping had so undermined his pluck, enfeebled his temper, that he could not regard himself in the glass without shame.

He tried to explain it by failure of health.
Assuredly his physical state had for months been declining and the bad cold from which he had recently suffered seemed to complete his moral downfall.

In this piercing and gloom-wrapped month of February, coward thoughts continually beset him.