was far from being in real want, nor was he ignorant, like Mr.
Cope's poor Jem, for he had been to school, and could read well; but he
was one of those many lads, who, alas! are everywhere to be found, who
break loose from all restraint as soon as they can maintain themselves.
They do their work pretty well, and are tolerably honest; but for the
rest--alas! they seem to live without God. Prayers and Church they have
left behind, as belonging to school-days; and in all their strength and
health, their days of toil, their evenings of rude diversion, their
Sundays of morning sleep, noonday basking in the sun, evening cricket,
they have little more notion of anything concerning their souls than the
horses they drive. If ever a fear comes over them, it seems a long long
way off, a whole life-time before them; they are awkward, and in dread of
one another's jeers and remarks; and if they ever wish to be better, they
cast it from them by fancying that time must steady them when they have
had their bit of fun, or that something will come from somewhere to
change them all at once, and make it easy to them to be good--as if they
were not making it harder each moment.

This sort of lad had been utterly let alone till Mr. Cope came; and Lady
Jane and the school-master felt it was dreary work to train up nice lads
in the school, only to see them run riot, and forget all good as soon as
they thought themselves their own masters.

Mr. Cope was anxious to do the best he could for them, and the
Confirmation made a good opportunity; but the boys did not like to be
interfered with--it made them shy to be spoken to; and they liked
lounging about much better than having to poke into that mind of theirs,
which they carried somewhere about them, but did not like to stir up.
They had no notion of going to school again--which no one wanted them to
do--nor to church, because it was like little boys; and they wouldn't be
obliged.

So Mr. Cope made little way with them; a few who had better parents came
regularly to him, but others went off when they found it too much
trouble, and behaved worse than ever by way of shewing they did not care.
This folly had in some degree taken possession of Harold; and though he
could not be as bad as were some of the others, he was fast growing
impatient of restraint, and worried and angry, as if any word of good
advice affronted him. Driven from home by the fear of disturbing Alfred,
he was left the more to