"Well, I've made up my mind as to its being an evil--a great evil,"
continued Jonas, in his quiet meditation; "the next question is, how
is the evil to be got rid of? There's the pinch! It clings to one like
one's skin. It's one's nature,--how can one fight against nature? And
yet, I take it, it's the very business of faith to conquer our evil
nature. As I read somewhere, any dead dog can float with the stream;
it's the living dog that swims against it. I mind the trouble I had
about the wicked habit of swearing, when first I took to trying to serve
God and leave off my evil courses. Bad words came to my mouth as natural
as the very air that I breathed. What did I do to cure myself of that
evil? Why, I resolved again and again, and found that my resolutions
were always snapping like a rotten cable in a storm; and I was driven
from my anchorage so often, that I almost began to despair. Then I
prayed hard to be helped; and I said to myself, 'God helps those who
help themselves, and maybe if I determine to do something that I should
be sorry to do every time that an oath comes from my mouth, it would
assist me to remember my duty.' I resolved to break my pipe the first
time that I swore; and I've never uttered an oath from that day to this,
not even in my most towering passions! Now I'll try the same cure again;
not to punish a sin, but to prevent it. If I fly into a fury, I'll break
my pipe! There Jonas Colter, I give you fair warning!" and the old
sailor smiled grimly to himself, and stirred the fire with an air of
satisfaction.

Not one rough word did Jonas utter that evening; indeed he was
remarkably silent, for the simplest way of saying nothing evil, he
thought, was to say nothing at all. Jonas looked with much pleasure
at his pipe when he put it on the mantle-piece for the night. "You've
weathered this day, old friend," said he; "we'll be on the look out
against squalls to-morrow."