‘Is she not avenged? You have described to me what an abject, trembling, miserable object her murderer is! Do you suppose he has not suffered such tortures of remorse as would make the gallows a welcome relief to him? There is no hell, Frederick, like that which we carry within ourselves--the worm that dieth not. Leave this wretched man to his own remorse! That will prove a greater hell to him than the hangman’s rope, and be a jewel in your heavenly crown.’ ‘But _why_ should I do this, Rhoda? I can understand the priests telling me I must forego my revenge because I must not violate the secrets of the confessional, yet, even they said that, if the confession were made to me in private, as it was this afternoon, it would be legitimate for me to bring the criminal to justice. But you say just the opposite. Why?’ ‘Because I am not speaking according to any formula, Frederick, of what the Church will, or will not, permit you to do. I am talking to you as a friend who thinks only of your individual good, and nothing of what people or Churches will say. I am thinking only of how God will view the matter, and what He might say when you had brought this murderer to earthly justice. “Well! and now that you are satisfied with regard to him who robbed you, how about yourself? Have _you_ never robbed your neighbour? Have _you_ murdered no good thing which he prized?--never taken from him anything which you can never give back again? Is there no murder but that of the mortal life?” Oh! Fred, I do not mean or wish to reproach you, but I want you to consider your own past life--your life and mine--and see if we are not liable to make amends in the sight of God as well as our fellow-creatures--even this poor murderer, on whom you thirst to take your revenge.’ The young man had hidden his face in his hands as she spoke to him, and, for a few moments, was too absorbed in thought to answer her. Here was what the world would have called his victim--the girl he had betrayed under a promise of eternal fidelity--who had trusted in him and been deceived--who had never blamed nor reproached him, but accepted her sad fate in all humility, teaching him true Christianity as no one had ever taught him before. He had robbed her of her good name and her virtue. He had murdered her belief and faith in him. He had taken from her that which he could never restore--her spotless reputation, and her pride in herself. He had left her to support her shame and sorrow alone--the reproaches of her family, the scorn of her companions--whilst he had been revelling in Jenny’s beauty and Jenny’s love, and mourning over her death and his own exceeding loss.