like death, they level all distinctions, and reduce their perpetrator to
an equality with the most indigent and squalid of his species. Against
Mr. Tyrrel, as the tyrannical and unmanly murderer of Emily, those who
dared not venture the unreserved avowal of their sentiments muttered
curses, deep, not loud; while the rest joined in an universal cry of
abhorrence and execration. He stood astonished at the novelty of his
situation. Accustomed as he had been to the obedience and trembling
homage of mankind, he had imagined they would be perpetual, and that no
excess on his part would ever be potent enough to break the enchantment.
Now he looked round, and saw sullen detestation in every face, which
with difficulty restrained itself, and upon the slightest provocation
broke forth with an impetuous tide, and swept away the mounds of
subordination and fear. His large estate could not purchase civility
from the gentry, the peasantry, scarcely from his own servants. In the
indignation of all around him he found a ghost that haunted him with
every change of place, and a remorse that stung his conscience, and
exterminated his peace. The neighbourhood appeared more and more every
day to be growing too hot for him to endure, and it became evident that
he would ultimately be obliged to quit the country. Urged by the
flagitiousness of this last example, people learned to recollect every
other instance of his excesses, and it was, no doubt, a fearful
catalogue that rose up in judgment against him. It seemed as if the
sense of public resentment had long been gathering strength unperceived,
and now burst forth into insuppressible violence.

There was scarcely a human being upon whom this sort of retribution
could have sat more painfully than upon Mr. Tyrrel. Though he had not a
consciousness of innocence prompting him continually to recoil from the
detestation of mankind as a thing totally unallied to his character, yet
the imperiousness of his temper and the constant experience he had had