that he had left the Democrats to their own devices. But no! he had done
the right, and that was the main point. The sense of failure, however,
robbed him of confidence in regard to the future. How should he act?
Since high motives were ineffectual, Quixotic, ought he to discard them
and come down to the ordinary level? 'Twould be better not to live at
all. The half-life of a student, a teacher, dwelling apart from the
world, would be preferable to such degradation; but----

The situation appeared to him to be so difficult that as soon as he had
taken his breakfast he went out for a walk away from the town in order
to avoid importunate visits, and to decide upon a course of conduct. The
air and exercise invigorated him; the peace and solitude of the prairie,
the beauty of earth and sky, the unconsciousness of nature consoled him,
reduced his troubles to relative unimportance, and allowed him to regain
his equanimity.

Even his ideas in regard to Hutchings underwent a change. After all it
was not his part to condemn; his indignation owed its heat to baffled
egotism and paltry vanity. When the personal element was abstracted from
the causes of his vexation, what remained? Were Hutchings a figure in
history, would he judge him with the same intolerance? No; weakness,
corruptibility even, would then excite no harsher feeling than a sort of
amused contempt. The reflection mitigated his anger. He began to take an
intellectual pleasure in the good-humoured acceptance of the wrong
inflicted upon him. Plato was right, it was well to suffer injustice
without desiring to retaliate. He had yet to learn that just as oil only
smoothes the surface of waves, so reason has merely a superficial effect
upon character.

Early in the afternoon he made his way to May's home. According to his