"What a picture of wickedness," he thought, as he read on; "ay, and what a picture of the state of Rome under the republic, when it was possible to say of any one man's life, 'Huic, ab adolescentia bella intestina, cædes, rapinæ, discordia civilis, grata fuere; ibique juventutem suam exercuit.' Is this the fruit of free and democratic institutions?" he thought. "Is a state so nearly approaching to anarchy, the result of popular government? A despotism were better! But yet it cannot be so. There must be a mean between the licence which destroys and the authority which oppresses society, when the people have sufficient power to guard and support their liberties, and the magistrates of the land are armed with the means of checking lawless violence without trenching upon lawful freedom. I am not a free man if there be others in the land who have the power to injure me unpunished: my freedom is as much controlled by them as it could be by any king. It is laws which make real freedom, laws justly framed and firmly executed, laws above kings and subjects both.--But let me see what he says more." He had not time, however, to turn the pages of the book before the door quietly opened behind him, and a step was heard upon the floor. He did not turn his head, however; and the person who came in proceeded round the table to the opposite side of the fireplace, when Gowrie, suddenly looking up, beheld his servant, Austin Jute. "Why, how now, Austin?" he exclaimed. "What has brought you to Edinburgh? Has anything happened?"