“Like a wicked boy, as you were, then.”
“But he was wicked, too, father.”
“Not so wicked as you, I think. In the first place, it was wrong in you even to pretend that you were going to knock his house down. Wrong in two ways. First, you told an untruth in saying that you meant to knock it down, when you did not intend to do so. And then you took pleasure in seeing him troubled, lest his house, the building of which gratified him so much, should be wantonly destroyed. Both the feeling and act here were evil. And my son, in indulging the one and doing the other, was not under good influences. And then, can you wonder that James, after what you had said, should have believed that you knocked his house down on purpose? You said that you meant to do it, and then did do it. What better evidence could he have had of your unjustifiable trespass upon his rights? Pleased with his house, its destruction could only arouse within him feelings of indignation against the one who had wantonly thrown it down. Put yourself in his place, and think whether you would not have felt as angry as he did; perhaps much more so. Carried away by this feeling, he struck you. This was wrong, but not half so much as the fact of your returning the blow. You knew that you had given him cause to feel incensed at your conduct, and you ought to have borne his blow as a just punishment for what you had done. But, instead of this, you made the matter ten times worse by striking him back. The fact, that he did not return your blow, but resisted the impulse he felt to strike you again, shows that he is a much better boy than you are, Edward; for you have declared, that if he had struck you again, you would have returned the blow, and have fought with him, I doubt not, until the one or the other of you had been beaten.”
“I am sorry I knocked his house down,” Edward said, as soon as his father ceased speaking, and he hung his head and looked ashamed and troubled. “And I was sorry the moment I saw that I had done it.”
“Then why did you not tell him so at once?”
“I would, if he had given me time. But he doubled up his fist and hit me before I could speak.”
“Still, knowing that you had provoked him to do so, you ought to have forgiven the blow.”
“And so I would, if I had only had time to think. But it came so suddenly”—
“You have had time to think since, my son, and yet you have declared that you do not like James, and never intend playing with him again.”
“I didn’t feel right when I said that, father. I was angry at him. But I don’t suppose he will ever play with me again after what has happened.”