“Your uncle seems to think that he can trust you much more than he can me,” observed Julian one day. “It is very hard upon me, as I am older. He favours you as a relation, that’s it, I’ve no doubt.”
Digby made no reply, but he felt indignant, as he could not bear to have his uncle, whom he respected, spoken ill of.
By degrees Julian recovered his usual state of mind, and, as he did so, his fertile brain began to devise fresh schemes of mischief. Since his liberty had been curtailed he found them, however, much more difficult to carry out. It may seem strange that, after all the anxiety and inconvenience he had suffered in consequence of his last achievement, he should be eager to do something which was likely to produce the same results; but such is unfortunately too generally the case with evildoers. Unless some severe punishment follows they go on and on, committing the same evil again and again. Indeed, even punishment will not always deter people who have given themselves up to evil ways from continuing in them; and men have frequently been known, the very day after they have been released from prison, to have committed the very crime for which they have been confined. Reformation of heart and character is what is required, and this had not taken place with regard to Julian Langley.
“I’ve hit upon a capital idea, Digby,” said he one day when the two were alone; “help me out with it.”
“What is it?” asked his companion.
“I’ve been thinking what fun it would be to set all the fishing-boats out in the river adrift. How they would knock about each other, and how angry the boatmen would be.”
“I should think they would be angry, indeed,” answered Digby, stoutly. “Fun is fun, but it seems to me that a great deal of harm might be done by what you propose. I’d advise you to give up the idea; I’ll have nothing to do with it.”
“I thought you were a fellow of spirit, Digby,” sneered Julian. “What great harm can there be in letting a few old fishermen’s boats knock together?”
“Why, they might get carried out to sea, and be lost altogether, and have their sides stove in, or holes made in their bottoms, or be sunk, and lose their oars and sails; indeed, I can fancy a great deal of damage might be done,” said Digby. “I think that it would be very wrong and cruel to the poor fishermen.”
“Oh, now I see you are going to take a leaf out of your uncle’s book, and to turn saint,” sneered Julian. This was one of his most powerful expressions. He knew that Digby especially disliked being called a saint, and that he often confessed, as do many older people with equal thoughtlessness, that he did not set up for a saint. People seem not to consider, if they do not wish to become saints, what they really do desire to become. Certainly none but saints can inherit the glories of eternity; and unless they trust in the merits of One who can cleanse them from their sins, and make them saints, so that they may be presented spotless to the Father Almighty, from those glories they will be shut out.