that the mother was destroying in her son that nice sense of honor
without which no one is safe; nor that she had taught him to disregard
the rights of others, to take mean advantages, and to appropriate what
did not belong to him whenever it could be done with absolute
certainty of concealment.

We do not mean to say that such were the direct and purposed teachings
of his mother. She would have been horror stricken at the mere
suggestion. But she had so taught him by example. In heart she was not
honest; and in many of her transactions she was as much a thief as if
she had robbed a till. Retaining what belongs to another, simply
because it has come into our hands by mistake, is as much a theft in
its spirit as purposed stealing; and the fine lady who keeps the
change to which she is not entitled, or the yard of ribbon measured to
her in error, is just as criminal, as the sneak-thief who gets into
her hall through a neglected door and steals her husband's overcoat.
The real quality of an act lies in the intent.

Is it any wonder that amid such home influences the boy did not show,
as he advanced toward maturity, a high sense of honor? That he should
be mean and selfish and dishonest in little things? "As the twig is
bent the tree is inclined." Evil seed will produce evil fruit.

Society punished and execrated the unhappy young man, and pitied his
wretched mother, little dreaming that by her hand his prison doors had
been opened.

Another instance of the baneful influence that may exist at home is to
be found in the ruin of a young man who recently died in one of the
lowest and vilest haunts of the city. He had been well educated, and
grew to manhood with a fine sense of honor. His mother was a woman of
rare culture, and beloved by every one in the circle where she moved.
All the moral sentiments of her son had been carefully fostered and
developed, and when he reached manhood no one showed a fairer promise.

But it was not long before a shadow fell across his life. He had
learned one thing at home that was destined to work his ruin--he had
learned to love the taste of wine.

His father belonged to a class of men who considered wine drinking a
mark of good breeding. He knew all about wines, and had a weak vanity
in being thought a connoisseur. If he had a friend to dinner, he would
bring out two or three kinds, and discuss them through half the meal.
He called the men who were ranging themselves against the terri