self."

"Admirably said," answered Crauford, who thought it nevertheless one
of the most foolish observations he had ever heard, "admirably said!
and yet my heart does grieve bitterly for the trials and distresses it
surveys. One must make excuses for poor human frailty; and one is
often placed in such circumstances as to render it scarcely possible
without the grace of God" (here Crauford lifted up his eyes) "not to
be urged, as it were, into the reasonings and actions of the world."

Not exactly comprehending this observation, and not very closely
attending to it, Glendower merely bowed, as in assent, and Crauford
continued,--

"I remember a remarkable instance of this truth. One of my partner's
clerks had, through misfortune or imprudence, fallen into the greatest
distress. His wife, his children (he had a numerous family), were on
the literal and absolute verge of starvation. Another clerk, taking
advantage of these circumstances, communicated to the distressed man a
plan for defrauding his employer. The poor fellow yielded to the
temptation, and was at last discovered. I spoke to him myself, for I
was interested in his fate, and had always esteemed him. 'What,' said
I, 'was your motive for this fraud?' 'My duty!' answered the man,
fervently; 'my duty! Was I to suffer my wife, my children, to starve
before my face, when I could save them at a little personal risk? No:
my duty forbade it!' and in truth, Glendower, there was something very
plausible in this manner of putting the question."

"You might, in answering it," said Glendower, "have put the point in a
manner equally plausible and more true: was he to commit a great crime