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affliction。'' He then declaimed the following passage； rather with too
much than too little emphasis：…
Much have I feared； but am no more afraid；
When some chaste beauty by some wretch betrayed；
Is drawn away with such distracted speed；
That she anticipates a dreadful deed。
Not so do I…Let solid walls impound
The captive fair； and dig a moat around；
Let there be brazen locks and bars of steel；
And keepers cruel； such as never feel；
With not a single note the purse supply；
And when she begs； let men and maids deny；
Be windows there from which she dare not fall；
And help so distant； 'tis in vain to call；
Still means of freedom will some Power devise；
And from the baffled ruffian snatch his prize。
‘‘The end of uncertainty；'' he concluded； ‘‘is the death of interest；
and hence it happens that no one now reads novels。''
‘‘Hear him； ye gods！'' returned his companion。 ‘‘I assure you；
Mr。 Pattieson； you will hardly visit this learned gentleman； but you
are likely to find the new novel most in repute lying on his table；…
snugly intrenched； however； beneath Stair's Institutes； or an open
volume of Morrison's Decisions。''
‘‘Do I deny it？'' said the hopeful jurisconsult； ‘‘or wherefore
should I； since it is well known these Delilahs seduce my wisers and
my betters？ May they not be found lurking amidst the multiplied
memorials of our most distinguished counsel； and even peeping from
under the cushion of a judge's arm…chair？ Our seniors at the bar；
within the bar； and even on the bench； read novels； and； if not belied；
some of them have written novels into the bargain。 I only say； that
I read from habit and from indolence； not from real interest； that；
like ancient Pistol devouring his leek； I read and swear till I get to
the end of the narrative。 But not so in the real records of human
vagaries…not so in the State Trials； or in the Books of Adjournal；
where every now and then you read new pages of the human heart；
and turns of fortune far beyond what the boldest novelist ever attempted
to produce from the coinage of his brain。''
‘‘And for such narratives；'' I asked； ‘‘you suppose the History of
the Prison of Edinburgh might afford appropriate materials？''
‘‘In a degree unusually ample； my dear sir；'' said Hardie…
‘‘Fill your glass； however； in the meanwhile。 Was it not for many
years the place in which the Scottish parliament met？ Was it not
James's place of refuge； when the mob； inflamed by a seditious
preacher； broke； forth； on him with the cries of ‘The sword of the Lord
and of Gideon…bring forth the wicked Haman？' Since that time
how many hearts have throbbed within these walls； as the tolling of
the neighbouring bell announced to them how fast the sands of their
life were ebbing； how many must have sunk at the sound…how many
were supported by stubborn pride and dogged resolution…how many
by the consolations of religion？ Have there not been some； who；
looking back on the motives of their crimes； were scarce able to understand
how they should have had such temptation as to seduce them
from virtue； and have there not； perhaps； been others； who； sensible
of their innocence； were divided between indignation at the undeserved
doom which they were to undergo； consciousness that they had not
deserved it； and racking anxiety to discover some way in which they
might yet vindicate themselves？ Do you suppose any of these deep；
powerful； and agitating feelings； can be recorded and perused without
exciting a corresponding depth of deep； powerful； and agitating
interest？…Oh！ do but wait till I publish the _Causes C