ties, and that it would be quite unjust and
irrational to pronounce, or even to form, an opinion on an affair so
imperfectly known, Mr. Macaulay continues in these words:--

"We know no spectacle so ridiculous as the British public in one of its
periodical fits of morality. In general, elopements, divorces, and
family quarrels, pass with little notice. We read the scandal, talk
about it for a day, and forget it. But once in six or seven years our
virtue becomes outrageous. We can not suffer the laws of religion and
decency to be violated. We must make a stand against vice. We must teach
libertines that the English people appreciate the importance of domestic
ties. Accordingly some unfortunate man, in no respect more depraved than
hundreds whose offenses have been treated with lenity, is singled out as
an expiatory sacrifice. If he has children, they are to be taken from
him. If he has a profession, he is to be driven from it. He is cut by
the higher orders, and hissed by the lower. He is, in truth, a sort of
whipping-boy, by whose vicarious agonies all the other transgressors of
the same class are, it is supposed, sufficiently chastised. We reflect
very complacently on our own severity, and compare with great pride the
high standard of morals established in England with the Parisian laxity.
At length our anger is satiated. Our victim is ruined and heart-broken,
and our virtue goes quietly to sleep for seven years more. It is clear
that those vices which destroy domestic happiness ought to be as much as
possible repressed. It is equally clear that they can not be repressed
by penal legislation. It is therefore right and desirable that public
opinion should be directed against them. But it should be directed
against them uniformly, steadily, and temperately; not by sudden fits
and starts. There should be one weight and one measure. Decimation is
always an objectionable mode of punishment. It is the resource of judges
too indolent and hasty to investigate facts and to discriminate nicely
between shades of guilt. It is an irrational practice, even when adopted
by military tribunals. When adopted by the tribunal of public opinion,
it is infinitely more irrational. It is good that a certain portion of
disgrace should constantly attend on certain bad actions. But it is not
good that the offenders should merely have to stand the risks of a
lottery of infamy, that ninety-nine out of every hundred should escape,
and that the hundr