To use his own language, he had tried to cure him of "loppin'," but with very unsatisfactory results.
Benedict comprehended Jim's lesson, and it made an impression upon him; but to break himself of his habit of thought and life was as difficult as the breaking of morbid habits always is.

He knew that he was a weak man, and saw that he had never fully developed that which was manliest within him.

He saw plainly, too, that his prayers would not develop it, and that nothing but a faithful, bold, manly use of his powers could accomplish the result.

He knew that he had a better brain, and a brain better furnished, than that of Robert Belcher, yet he had known to his sorrow, and well-nigh to his destruction, that Robert Belcher could wind him around his finger.

Prayer had never saved him from this, and nothing could save him but a development of his own manhood.