rt of Revenge, is for those wrongs which there is
no Law to remedy: But then, let a man take heed, the Revenge be such, as
there is no law to punish: Else, a man's Enemy, is still before hand, and
it is two for one. Some, when they take Revenge, are Desirous the party
should know, whence it cometh. This is the more Generous. For the Delight
seemeth to be, not so much in doing the Hurt, as in making the Party
repent: But Base and Crafty _Cowards are like the Arrow that flyeth in
the Dark. Cosmus, Duke of Florence, had a Desperate Saying against
Perfidious or Neglecting Friends, as if these wrongs were unpardonable.
You shall reade (saith he) that we are commanded to forgive our Enemies:
But you never read, that we are commanded, to forgive our Friends_.'

"Is he not a rare fellow?"

"Who?" said I.

"Francis Bacon, who screwed his wit to his philosophy, like a hammer-head
to its handle, and knocked a nail in at every blow. How many of our
friends round about here would be picking oakum now if they had made a
gospel of that quotation?"

"You mean they take no heed that the Law may punish for that for which it
gives no remedy?"

"Precisely; and specifically as to revenge. The criminal, from the
murderer to the petty pilferer, is actuated solely by the spirit of
vengeance--vengeance blind and speechless--towards a system that forces
him into a position quite outside his natural instincts."

"As to that, we have left Nature in the thicket. It is hopeless hunting
for her now."

"We hear her breathing sometimes, my friend. Otherwise Her Majesty's
prison locks would rust. But, I grant you, we have grown so unfamiliar
with her that we call her simplest manifestations _super_natural
nowadays."

"That reminds me. I visited F---- this afternoon. The man was in a queer
way--not foxing, in my opinion. Hysteria, probably."

"Oh! What was the matter with him?"

"The form it took was some absurd prejudice about the next cell--number
47, He swore it was not empty--was quite upset about it--said there
was some infernal influence at work in his neighbourhood. Nerves, he
finds, I suppose, may revenge themselves on one who has made a habit of
playing tricks with them. To satisfy him, I asked Johnson to open the
door of the next cell--"

"Well?"

"He refused."

"It is closed by my orders."

"That settles it, of course. The manner of Johnson's refusal was a bit
uncivil, but--"

He had been looking at me intently all this ti