e bulwark of all morality: thus the
multitude of laws produce new vices, and new vices call for fresh
restraints.

It were to be wished then that power, instead a contriving new laws
to punish vice, instead of drawing hard the cards of society till a
convulsion come to burst them, instead of cutting away wretches as
useless, before we have tried their utility, instead of converting
correction into vengeance, it were to be wished that we tried the
restrictive arts of government, and made law the protector, but not the
tyrant of the people. We should then find that creatures, whose souls
are held as dross, only wanted the hand of a refiner; we should then
find that wretches, now stuck up for long tortures, lest luxury should
feel a momentary pang, might, if properly treated, serve to sinew the
state in times of danger; that, as their faces are like ours, their
hearts are so too; that few minds are so base as that perseverance
cannot amend; that a man may see his last crime without dying for it;
and that very little blood will serve to cement our security.

CHAPTER 28

Happiness and misery rather the result of prudence than of virtue in
this life. Temporal evils or felicities being regarded by heaven as
things merely in themselves trifling and unworthy its care in the
distribution

I had now been confined more than a fortnight, but had not since my
arrival been visited by my dear Olivia, and I greatly longed to see her.
Having communicated my wishes to my wife, the next morning the poor girl
entered my apartment, leaning on her sister's arm. The change which
I saw in her countenance struck me. The numberless graces that once
resided there were now fled, and the hand of death seemed to have molded
every feature to alarm me. Her temples were sunk, her forehead was
tense, and a fatal paleness sate upon her cheek.

'I am glad to see thee, my dear,' cried I; 'but why this dejection
Livy? I hope, my love, you have too great a regard for me, to permit
disappointment thus to undermine a life which I prize as my own. Be
chearful child, and we yet may see happier days.'

'You have ever, sir,' replied she, 'been kind to me, and it adds to my
pain that I shall never have an opportunity of sharing that happiness
you promise. Happiness, I fear, is no longer reserved for me here; and I
long to be rid of a place where I have only found distress. Indeed, sir,
I wish you would make a proper submission to Mr Thornhill; it may, i