"When the sins of the fathers are multiplied by the sons, is not perdition the final sum of things?
And is not life, the boon of heaven, growing to be the devil's game utterly?
But for my son, I would hide my name.

I would not bequeath it to be cursed by them that walk above my grave!" This was indeed a terrible view of existence.

Mr.Thompson felt uneasy.
There was a dignity in his client, an impressiveness in his speech, that silenced remonstrating reason and the cry of long years of comfortable respectability.

Mr.Thompson went to church regularly; paid his rates and dues without overmuch, or at least more than common, grumbling.

On the surface he was a good citizen, fond of his children, faithful to his wife, devoutly marching to a fair seat in heaven on a path paved by something better than a thousand a year.