would be the last to raise it. In dealing forth to others, how
strong came the temptation to deal it to himself! Othro drank, and
pronounced a certain kind of wine a great luxury. Edward could not
(or, at least, so he thought) do otherwise; and so he drank, and
pronounced the same judgment upon it.

"What say you for an evening at the theatre?" said Othro, one
evening, as they were passing from their place of business, having
left it in care of their servants. "At the Gladiate the play is
'Hamlet,' and Mr. Figaro, from the old Drury, appears."

Edward had been educated in strict puritanic style, and had been
taught to consider the theatre as a den of iniquity. It is not our
purpose to defend or oppose this opinion. It was his, and he freely
expressed it. In fact, his partner knew it to be such before making
the request.

"I suppose," said Mr. Treves, "you oppose the theatre on account of
the intoxicating drinks sold there. Now, I am for a social drop
occasionally. Edward, a glass of pure 'Cogniac,' a nice cigar, and a
seat in front of a grate of blazing coal, and I'll be joyful."

"You may be joyful, then," replied Mr. Dayton; "but your joy might
be changed to grief, and your buoyancy of spirit be turned to
sadness of heart."

"Indeed, Edward! Quite a lecture, I declare! Been studying theology,
eh?"

"Not so; you are mistaken, Othro," said he. "There," he continued,