m, as the living model of liberality and
goodness. If you could change all my ideas, and show me that there was
no criterion by which vice might be prevented from being mistaken for
virtue, what benefit would arise from that? I must part with all my
interior consolation, and all my external connections. And for what?
What is it you propose? The death of Mr. Falkland by the hands of the
hangman."

"No; I will not hurt a hair of his head, unless compelled to it by a
principle of defence. But surely you owe me justice?"

"What justice? The justice of proclaiming your innocence? You know what
consequences are annexed to that. But I do not believe I shall find you
innocent. If you even succeed in perplexing my understanding, you will
not succeed in enlightening it. Such is the state of mankind, that
innocence, when involved in circumstances of suspicion, can scarcely
ever make out a demonstration of its purity; and guilt can often make us
feel an insurmountable reluctance to the pronouncing it guilt.
Meanwhile, for the purchase of this uncertainty, I must sacrifice all
the remaining comforts of my life. I believe Mr. Falkland to be
virtuous; but I know him to be prejudiced. He would never forgive me
even this accidental parley, if by any means he should come to be
acquainted with it."

"Oh, argue not the consequences that are possible to result!" answered
I, impatiently, "I have a right to your kindness; I have a right to your
assistance!"

"You have them. You have them to a certain degree; and it is not likely
that, by any process of examination, you can have them entire. You know
my habits of thinking. I regard you as vicious; but I do not consider
the vicious as proper objects of indignation and scorn. I consider you
as a machine; you are not constituted, I am afraid, to be greatly useful
to your fellow men: but you did not make yourself; you are just what
circumstances irresistibly compelled you to be. I am sorry for your ill
properties; but I entertain no enmity against you, nothing but
benevolence. Considering you in the light in which I at present consider
you, I am ready to contribute every thing in my power to your real
advantage, and would gladly assist you, if I knew how, in detecting and
extirpating the errors that have misled you. You have disappointed me,
but I have no reproaches to utter: it is more necessary for me to feel
compassion for you, than that I should accumulate your misfortune by my
censures."