as been, treat your wife
with confidence if you respect her, and expect confidence in your turn.
No, no; poor Beck must have it if I have it. The truth is, I have no
secrets, and never had. I keep none, Dunphy, and that's but natural;
however, it's all the heart of man."

The next morning the two men took an early walk, for both were in the
habit of rising betimes. Dunphy, it would appear, was one of those
individuals, who, if they ever perform a praiseworthy act, do it
rather from weakness of character and fear, than from a principle of
conscientious rectitude. After having gone to bed the previous night he
lay awake for a considerable time debating with himself the purport of
his visit, pro and con, without after all, being able to accomplish a
determination on the subject. He was timid, cunning, shrewd, avaricious,
and possessed, besides, a large portion of that peculiar superstition
which does not restrain from iniquity, although it renders the mind
anxious and apprehensive of the consequences. Now the honest fellow with
whom he had to deal was the reverse of all this in every possible
phase of his character, being candid, conscientious, fearless,
and straightforward. Whatever he felt to be his duty, that he did,
regardless of all opinion and all consequences. He was, in fact, an
independent man, because he always acted from right principles, or
rather from right impulses; the truth being, that the virtuous action
was performed before he had allowed himself time to reason upon it.
Every one must have observed that there is a rare class of men whose
feelings, always on the right side, are too quick for their reason,
which they generously anticipate, and have the proposed virtue completed
before either reason or prudence have had time to argue either for or
against the act. Old Sam was one of the latter, and our readers may
easily perceive the contrast which the two individuals presented.

After about an hour's walk both returned to breakfast, and whatever may
have been the conversation that took place between them, or whatever
extent of confidence Dunphy reposed in old Sam, there can be little
doubt that his glee this morning was infinitely greater than on the
preceding-evening, although, at Dunphy's earnest request, considerably
more subdued. Nay, the latter had so far succeeded with old Sam as to
induce him to promise, that for the present at least, he would
forbear to communicate it to his wife. Sam, however, wou