"Step on this dead limb; it is solid."

"That is well passed," cried the other, cheerily. "What a fine thing it
would be, if, in the difficult path of life, we could get over all bad
habits as easily!"

"There is one habit," rejoined Chester, in a low tone, "which I trust I
have overcome,--thanks to your timely counsel."

"Ah? It is gratifying to me to hear you say so."

"And I feel that I owe you an apology."

"Me? How so?" asked the old man.

"The truth is," replied Chester, coloring very red, and speaking as if
it was a great effort and a relief to be candid, "I haven't been easy in
my conscience since the unlucky--or rather lucky--day I met you outside
the stage-coach."

"Oh, never speak of it. It is all forgotten," exclaimed Father
Brighthopes.

"Not with me, Father. I have been heartily ashamed of my conduct. It was
kind in you to rebuke me for swearing, and I should have taken it so.
What you said appealed to my reason and to my feelings. But I was too
proud to acknowledge the justice of your reproof; and, as I did not know
you, I thought to carry out my assumed recklessness by a dash of
insolence."

"I forgave it at the moment, my son. I understood it all."

"I hope you will not think I have been in the habit of using profane
language," said Chester. "It is my misfortune to be easily influenced by
the kind of society I am in. You remember, I was conversing with a wild
fellow, who was by no means sparing of oaths. I have lived in the
atmosphere of too many such; and, somehow, I have learned to imitate
their habits unconsciously."

"Our only armor against such influences is _firm principle_," answered
the old man, encouragingly. "No warm-blooded young person, entering the
world, is safe without this."

"It must be so, Father. But why is it that the sight of vice does not
always strike us with the same disgust or horror as the mere
contemplation of it?"

"We can accustom our palate to any description of vile drugs, by
persisting in their use, I suppose."

"I see," said Chester.

"'We first endure, then pity, then embrace,'

the vices we come in contact with. But vices we witness for the first
time--they do not always shock us."

"The more pleasing the devil's coat, the more dangerous he is," replied
Father Brighthopes. "And there is another thing to be considered.
Persons following intellectual pursuits are apt to take purely
intellectual views of great as well as petty crimes. The indep