unlucky snap, or even an indiscreet bark, was nothing strange to the
wisdom of the student of Machiavelli. However, he set himself to the
task of consolation with equal philosophy and tenderness. He began by
reminding, or rather informing, Leonard Fairfield of all the instances of
illustrious men afflicted by the injustice of others that occurred to his
own excellent memory. He told him how the great Epictetus, when in
slavery, had a master whose favourite amusement was pinching his leg,
which, as the amusement ended in breaking that limb, was worse than the
stocks. He also told him the anecdote of Lenny's own gallant countryman,
Admiral Byng, whose execution gave rise to Voltaire's celebrated
witticism, "En Angleterre on tue un admiral pour encourager les autres."

["In England they execute one admiral in order to encourage the
others."]

Many other illustrations, still more pertinent to the case in point, his
erudition supplied from the stores of history. But on seeing that Lenny
did not seem in the slightest degree consoled by these memorable
examples, he shifted his ground, and reducing his logic to the strict
/argumentum ad rem/, began to prove, first, that there was no disgrace at
all in Lenny's present position, that every equitable person would
recognize the tyranny of Stirn and the innocence of its victim; secondly,
that if even here he were mistaken, for public opinion was not always
righteous, what was public opinion after all?--"A breath, a puff," cried
Dr. Riccabocca, "a thing without matter,--without length, breadth, or
substance,--a shadow, a goblin of our own creating. A man's own
conscience is his sole tribunal, and he should care no more for that
phantom 'opinion' than he should fear meeting a ghost if he crossed the
churchyard at dark."