may excuse it--but to
_write_ and _print_ an untruth is unpardonable, and I will prosecute this
publisher."

"Still the falsehood will go down to posterity," said Lady Clementina;
"and after ages will think I was a gambler."

"Comfort yourself, dear madam," said young Henry, wishing to console her:
"perhaps after ages may not hear of you; nor even the present age think
much about you."

The bishop now exclaimed, after having taken the paper from the dean, and
read the paragraph, "It is a libel, a rank libel, and the author must be
punished."

"Not only the author, but the publisher," said the dean.

"Not only the publisher, but the printer," continued the bishop.

"And must my name be bandied about by lawyers in a common court of
justice?" cried Lady Clementina. "How shocking to my delicacy!"

"My lord, it is a pity we cannot try them by the ecclesiastical court,"
said the dean, with a sigh.

"Or by the India delinquent bill," said the bishop, with vexation.

"So totally innocent as I am!" she vociferated with sobs. "Every one
knows I never touch a card at home, and this libel charges me with
playing at my own house; and though, whenever I do play, I own I am apt
to win, yet it is merely for my amusement."

"Win or not win, play or not play," exclaimed both the churchmen, "this
is a libel--no doubt, no doubt, a libel."

Poor Henry's confined knowledge of his native language tormented him so
much with curiosity upon this occasion, that he went softly up to his
uncle, and asked him in a whisper, "What is the meaning of the word
libel?"

"A libel," replied the dean, in a raised voice, "is that which one person
publishes to the injury of another."

"And what can the injured person do," asked Henry, "if the accusation
should chance to be true?"

"Prosecute," replied the dean.

"But, then, what does he do if the accusation be false?"

"Prosecute likewise," answered the dean.

"How, uncle! is it possible that the innocent behave just like the
guilty?"

"There is no other way to act."

"Why, then, if I were the innocent, I would do nothing at all sooner than
I would act like the guilty. I would not persecute--"

"I said _prosecute_," cried the dean in anger. "Leave the room; you have
no comprehension."

"Oh, yes, now I understand the difference of the two words; but they
sound so much alike, I did not at first observe the distinction. You
said, 'the innocent prosecute, but the _guilty persecute_