u to form
the mistaken idea that the world is bad. As you live on, you will find
much good; and recollect, that those who injured you, from the
misrepresentation of others, have been willing, and have offered, to
repair their fault. They can do no more, and I wish you could get over
this vindictive feeling. Recollect, we must forgive, as we hope to be
forgiven."

"I do sometimes," said I, "for Sarah's sake--I can't always."

"But you ought to forgive, for other reasons, Jacob."

"I know I ought--but if I cannot, I cannot."

"Nay, my boy, I never heard you talk so--I was going to say--wickedly.
Do you not perceive that you are now in error? You will not abandon a
feeling which your own good sense and religion tell you to be wrong--you
cling to it--and yet you will admit of no excuse for the errors of
others."

"I feel what you say--and the truth of it, sir," replied I "but I cannot
combat the feeling. I will, therefore, admit every excuse you please
for the faults of others; but at the same time, I am surely not to be
blamed if I refuse to put myself in a situation where I am again liable
to meet with mortification. Surely I am not to be censured, if I prefer
to work for my bread after my own fashion, and prefer the river to dry
land?"

"No, that I acknowledge; but what I dislike in the choice is, that it is
dictated by feelings of resentment."

"_What's done can't be helped_," replied I, quickly, wishing to break
off the conversation.

"Very true, Jacob; but I follow that up with another of your remarks,
which is, `Better luck next time.' God bless you, my boy; take care of
yourself, and don't get under the ice again!"

"For you I would to-morrow," replied I, taking the proffered hand: "but
if I could only see that Hodgson near a hole--"

"You'd not push him in?"

"Indeed I would," replied I, bitterly.

"Jacob, you would not, I tell you--you think so now, but if you saw him
in distress you would assist him as you did me. I know you, my boy,
better than you know yourself."

Whether Captain Turnbull or I were right remains to be proved in the
sequel. We then shook hands, and I hastened away to see Mary, whom I
had often thought of during my absence.

"Who do you think has been here?" said Mary, after our first greeting.

"I cannot guess," replied I. "Not old Tom and his son?"

"No; I don't think it was old Tom, but it was such an old quiz--with
such a nose--O heavens! I thought I should hav