rs since his course
was easy, and unless the sinner were a clergyman, he could in some sort
satisfy his craving for revenge by taking a pistol in his hand, and
having a shot at the offender. That method was doubtless barbarous and
unreasonable, but it was satisfactory and sufficed. But what can he do
now? A thoughtful, prudent, painstaking man, such as was Theodore
Burton, feels that it is not given to him to attack another with his
fists, to fly at his enemy's throat, and carry out his purpose after the
manner of dogs. Such a one has probably something round his heart which
tells him that if so attacked he could defend himself; but he knows that
he has no aptitude for making such onslaught, and is conscious that such
deeds of arms would be unbecoming to him. In many, perhaps in most of
such cases, he may, if he please, have recourse to the laws. But any aid
that the law can give him is altogether distasteful to him. The name of
her that is so dear to him should be kept quiet as the grave under such
misfortune, not blazoned through ten thousand columns for the amusement
of all the crowd. There is nothing left for him but to spurn the
man--not with his foot but with his thoughts; and the bitter
consciousness that to such spurning the sinner will be indifferent. The
old way was barbarous certainly, and unreasonable--but there was a
satisfaction in it that has been often wanting since the use of pistols
went out of fashion among us.

All this passed through Burton's mind as he walked home. One would not
have supposed him to be a man eager for bloodshed--he with a wife whom
he deemed to be perfect, with children who in his eyes were gracious as
young gods, with all his daily work which he loved as good workers
always do; but yet, as he thought of Florence, as he thought of the
possibility of treachery on Harry's part, he regarded almost with dismay
the conclusion to which he was forced to come--that there could be no
punishment. He might proclaim the offender to the world as false, and
the world would laugh at the proclaimer, and shake hands with the
offender. To sit together with such a man on a barrel of powder, or
fight him over a handkerchief seemed to him to be reasonable, nay
salutary, under such a grievance. There are sins, he felt, which the
gods should punish with instant thunderbolts, and such sins as this were
of such a nature. His Florence--pure, good, loving, true, herself
totally void of all suspicion, faultle