It is
the _bloody_ hand in the dexter chief of a baronet,--now often worn, I
grant, by those who, perhaps, during their whole lives have never raised
their hands in anger. But my thoughts have returned to days of yore--the
iron days of _ironed men_, when it _was_ the symbol of faithful service
in the field--when it really was bestowed upon the "hand embrued in
blood;" and I have meditated, whether that hand, displayed with
exultation in this world, may not be held up trembling in the next--in
judgment against itself.
And I, whose memory stepping from one legal murder to another, can walk
dry-footed over the broad space of five-and-twenty years of time,--but
the "damned spots" won't come out--so I'll put my hands in my pockets
and walk on.
Conscience, fortunately or unfortunately, I hardly can tell which,
permits us to form political and religious creeds, most suited to
disguise or palliate our sins. Mine is a military conscience, and I
agree with Bates and Williams, who flourished in the time of Henry V.,
that it is "all upon the King:" that is to say, it was all upon the
king; and now our constitution has become so incomparably perfect, that
"the king can do no wrong;" and he has no difficulty in finding
ministers, who voluntarily impignorating themselves for all his actions
in this world, will, in all probability, not escape from the clutches of
the great _Pawnbroker_ in the next--from which facts I draw the
following conclusions:--
1st. That his Majesty (God bless him!) will go to heaven.
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