know how the dumb-show at the
end of the English play is generally conducted; but in my father's
instance, I know he so far carried out my friend Horace Wilson's
sentiment (which was also his own on the subject) that, while his
miserable wife falls senseless at his feet, he turns again in the
act of flying from her as the curtain drops, leaving the English
public to go home comforted in the belief that he had _not_ forgiven
her.

The result of these discussions, as I said, led me to imagine how
far such a woman would escape her righteous punishment, even if
restored to her home; and in the sequel to "The Stranger," which I
endeavored to construct, I worked out my own ideas upon the subject.

Forgiveness of sin is not remission of punishment; and the highest
justice might rest satisfied with the conviction that God, who
forgives every sinner, punishes every sin; nor can even His mercy
remit the righteous consequence ordained by it. God's punishments
are _consequences_, the results of His all-righteous laws, _never to
be escaped from_, but leaving forever possible the blessed hope of
His forgiveness; but no one ever yet outran his sin or escaped from
its inevitable result.

The grosser human justice, however, which is obliged to execute
itself on the bodies of criminals demands the open degradation and
social ostracism of unfaithful wives as a necessary portion of its
machinery, and the well-being of the society which it maintains.]

HARLEY STREET, Friday, June 10th, 1842.
MY DEAREST HARRIET,

I finished one letter to you last night, and, finding that I cannot
obtain tackle to go on the river this morning and fish, I sit down to
write you another. And first, dear, about getting an admission for
E---- to see our play. I am sorry to say it is not in my power. Thinking
I had rather a right to one or two invitations for my own friends on
each of the nights, I asked Lady Francis to give me three tickets for
the first representation, intending to beg the same number for each
night. I gave one to Mr. S----, and another to a nephew of Talma's, a
very agreeable French naval officer, with whom we have become
acquainted, and who besought one of me. But when I had proceeded thus
far in my distribution of admissions, I was told I had committed an
indiscretion in asking for any, and that I must return the