in support of the claim that he did not commit the
crime. To prove that he could not, without change of disposition and
habit, violate the laws of his country, is the next best thing to an
established alibi. I should be almost ashamed to set down a thing
which everybody knows so well were it not that each one of us, when
his best friend's fidelity to him is questioned, flies shamelessly in
the face of reason and precedent by ignoring the record of years. He
may have given ten thousand proofs of attachment to him whom he is now
accused of wronging; have showed himself in a thousand ways to be
absolutely incapable of deception or dishonorable behavior of any
sort. A single equivocal circumstance, a word half-heard, a gesture
misunderstood; the report to his prejudice of a tale-bearer who is his
inferior in every respect,--any one of these outbalances the plea of
memory, the appeal of reason, the consciousness of the right of the
arraigned to be heard. Were not the story one of to-day and of every
day, the moral turpitude it displays would arouse the hearer to
generous indignation.

Taking at random one of the multitude of illustrations crowding upon
my mind, let me sketch a vexatious incident of personal history. Some
years ago--no matter how many, nor how long was my sojourn in the town
which was the scene of the story--I accepted the invitation of an
acquaintance to take a seat in her carriage while on my way to call
upon a woman well known to us both. The owner of the equipage, Mrs.
D----, overtook me while I was trudging up the long street leading to
the suburb in which our common acquaintance lived. The day was bleak
and windy, and I was glad to be spared the walk. Mrs. C----, to whom
the visit was paid, came down to receive us with her hat and cloak on.
She was going down town presently, she said, and would not keep us
waiting while she laid aside her wraps. No! she would not have us
shorten our call on her account; she could go half an hour later as
well as now. A good deal was said of the disagreeable weather, and the
bad sidewalks in that new section of the city--as I recollected
afterward. At the time, I was more interested in her mention that her
favorite brother, an editor of note from another town and State, was
visiting her. She asked permission to bring him to call, and I
consented with alacrity, thinking, as I spoke, that I would, after
meeting him, arrange a little dinner-party of choice spirits in his