ad
tinged his mind in earlier days with a slight feeling of romance, which
no after incidents of real life had entirely dissipated. The early loss
of an amiable young woman, whom he had married for love, and who was
quickly followed to the grave by an only child, had also served, even
after the lapse of many years, to soften a disposition naturally mild
and contemplative. His feelings on the present occasion were therefore
likely to differ from those of the severe disciplinarian, strict
magistrate, and distrustful man of the world.

When the servants had withdrawn, the silence of both parties continued,
until Major Melville, filling his glass, and pushing the bottle to Mr.
Morton, commenced. 'A distressing affair this, Mr. Morton. I fear this
youngster has brought himself within the compass of a halter.'

'God forbid!' answered the clergyman.

'Marry, and amen,' said the temporal magistrate; 'but I think even your
merciful logic will hardly deny the conclusion.'

'Surely, Major,' answered the clergyman, 'I should hope it might be
averted, for aught we have heard to-night?'

'Indeed!' replied Melville. 'But, my good parson, you are one of those
who would communicate to every criminal the benefit of clergy.'

'Unquestionably I would: mercy and long-suffering are the grounds of the
doctrine I am called to teach.'

'True, religiously speaking; but mercy to a criminal may be gross
injustice to the community. I don't speak of this young fellow in
particular, who I heartily wish may be able to clear himself, for I
like both his modesty and his spirit. But I fear he has rushed upon his
fate.'

'And why? Hundreds of misguided gentlemen are now in arms against the
Government; many, doubtless, upon principles which education and
early prejudice have gilded with the names of patriotism and
heroism;--Justice, when she selects her victims from such a multitude
(for surely all will not be destroyed), must regard the moral motive.
He whom ambition, or hope of personal advantage, has led to disturb the
peace of a well-ordered government, let him fall a victim to the laws;
but surely youth, misled by the wild visions of chivalry and imaginary
loyalty, may plead for pardon.'

'If visionary chivalry and imaginary loyalty come within the predicament
of high treason,' replied the magistrate, 'I know no court in
Christendom, my dear Mr. Morton, where they can sue out their Habeas
Corpus.'

'But I cannot see that this youth's guil