The Doctor was the first to speak aloud, and he said to Clodwig,—
"We have been, without meaning it, the listeners to a comic performance. A simple-minded transgressor, a transgressor from the impulse of passion, can, perhaps, be converted; a cunning and hardened one, never."
"With all my detestation," replied Clodwig, "I admire this power, which can so lay bare the hypocrisy of the world. Oh,"—
His mouth seemed parched; and he moved his tongue frequently, this side and that, appearing unable to say any thing further. He looked at the expressive countenance of the Banker, and, nodding to him, said,—
"I see you have a word to say. Pray say it."
The Banker, coloring very red, responded,—
"Certainly. I will not speak of the emotion this life-history has excited in me. It is—I know not what to call it; but I think it is a history of humiliation: and perhaps a Jew ought to be inclined to judge righteously, I will say mercifully, of all sins and transgressions which proceed from being slighted and contemned. Humiliation, placing the matter in a social point of view, awakens bitterness, hardness, recklessness; and it must be a peculiar nature, which becomes, under its influence, mild, even to faint-heartedness and weakness."
The Doctor respected the man's point of view; but he did not seem disposed to accede to it. He urged a decision, asking,—
"Have you any method of punishment or reparation to propose?"
"First of all," replied the Banker, "I don't know any thing else, except to take away from this man all parental power over his children; and we must devise some delicate way of doing this, in order not to inflict suffering upon them."