the claws of the law, and you will do well. Law almost ignores right. On one side is penalty, on the other hu- manity. Philosophers protest; but it will take some time yet before the justice of man is assimilated to the justice of God.
Respect for the law,—that is the English phrase. In England they venerate the laws so much that they never repeal any; but they save themselves from the consequences of this veneration by never putting these laws into execution. An old law falls into disuse like an old woman, and they never think of killing either one or the other. They cease to make use of them,—that is all. Both are at liberty to consider themselves still young and beautiful. They allow them to suppose that they still exist. This politeness is called respect. Norman custom is very wrinkled, but that does not prevent many an English judge from casting sheep's eyes at her. They stick amorously to an antiquated atrocity, so long as it is Norman. What can be more savage than the gibbet? In 1867 a man was sentenced to be cut into quarters and offered to a woman,—the queen.
Still, torture was never practised in England; history asserts this as a fact. The assurance of history is wonderful. Matthew of Westminster mentions that the "Saxon law, very clement and kind," did not punish criminals by death; and adds that "it limited itself to cutting off the nose and scooping out the eyes." That was all!
Gwynplaine, scared and haggard, stood at the top of the steps, trembling in every limb. He shuddered from head to foot. He tried to think what crime he could have committed. To the silence of the wapentake succeeded the vision of torture to be endured. It was a step forward; but a tragic one. The grim enigma of his seizure was becoming more and more obscure. The
