e that man
forever removed from us; to be released from his debasing influence; to
be untrammeled in our action and in the development of our resources; to
be free men and free women, and to become content with our lot and with
such gains as we may win in a legitimate way, is worth all that it has
cost us. We needed a severe lesson, and we have had it. It falls heavily
upon some who are innocent. Let us, in kindness to these, find a balm
for our own trials. And, now, let us not degrade ourselves by hot words
and impotent resentments. They can do no good. Let us be men--Christian
men, with detestation of the rascality from which we suffer, but with
pity for the guilty man, who, sooner or later, will certainly meet the
punishment he so richly deserves. 'Vengeance is mine; I will repay,'
saith the Lord."

The people of Sevenoaks had never before heard Mr. Snow make such a
speech as this. It was a manly confession, and a manly admonition. His
attenuated form was straight and almost majestic, his pale face was
flushed, his tones were deep and strong, and they saw that one man, at
least, breathed more freely, now that the evil genius of the place was
gone. It was a healthful speech. It was an appeal to their own conscious
history, and to such remains of manhood as they possessed, and they were
strengthened by it.

A series of the most objurgatory resolutions had been prepared for the
occasion, yet the writer saw that it would be better to keep them in his
pocket. The meeting was at a stand, when little Dr. Radcliffe, who was
sore to his heart's core with his petty loss, jumped up and declared
that he had a series of resolutions to offer. There was a world of
unconscious humor in his freak,--unconscious, because his resolutions
were intended to express his spite, not only against Mr. Belcher, but
against the villagers, including Mr. Snow. He began by reading in his
piping voice the first resolution passed at the previous meeting which
so pleasantly dismissed the proprietor to the commercial metropolis of
the country. The reading of this resolution was so sweet a sarcasm on
the proceedings of that occasion, that it was received with peals of
laughter and deafening cheers, and as he went bitterly on, from
resolution to resolution, raising his voice to overtop the jargon, the
scene became too ludicrous for description. The resolutions, which never
had any sincerity in them, were such a confirmation of all that Mr. Snow
had said