orders a trifle when we get a chance, which is most of the time.
We enjoy it. We are instructed to remind a man a few times of an error;
and I don’t mind acknowledging that we try to give pretty good measure.
And when we get hold of a man of a peculiarly sensitive nature, oh, but
we do haze him! I have consciences to come all the way from China and
Russia to see a person of that kind put through his paces, on a special
occasion. Why, I knew a man of that sort who had accidentally crippled a
mulatto baby; the news went abroad, and I wish you may never commit
another sin if the consciences didn’t flock from all over the earth to
enjoy the fun and help his master exorcise him. That man walked the
floor in torture for forty-eight hours, without eating or sleeping, and
then blew his brains out. The child was perfectly well again in three
weeks.”
“Well, you are a precious crew, not to put it too strong. I think I
begin to see now why you have always been a trifle inconsistent with me.
In your anxiety to get all the juice you can out of a sin, you make a man
repent of it in three or four different ways. For instance, you found
fault with me for lying to that tramp, and I suffered over that. But it
was only yesterday that I told a tramp the square truth, to wit, that,
it being regarded as bad citizenship to encourage vagrancy, I would give
him nothing. What did you do then: Why, you made me say to myself, ‘Ah,
it would have been so much kinder and more blameless to ease him off with
a little white lie, and send him away feeling that if he could not have
bread, the gentle treatment was at least something to be grateful for!’
Well, I suffered all day about that. Three days before I had fed a
tramp, and fed him freely, supposing it a virtuous act. Straight off you
said, ‘Oh, false citizen, to have fed a tramp!’ and I suffered as usual.
I gave a tramp work; you objected to it–after the contract was made,
of course; you never speak up beforehand. Next, I refused a tramp work;
you objected to that. Next, I proposed to kill a tramp; you kept me
awake all night, oozing remorse at every pore. Sure I was going to be
right this time, I sent the next tramp away with my benediction; and I
wish you may live as long as I do, if you didn’t make me smart all night
again because I didn’t kill him. Is there any way of satisfying that
malignant invention which is called a conscience?”
“Ha, ha! this is luxury! Go on!”
“But come, now, answer me that question. Is there any way?”
“Well, none that I propose to tell you, my son. Ass! I don’t care what
act you may turn your hand to, I can straightway whisper a word in your
ear and make you think you have committed a dreadful meanness. It is my
business–and my joy–to make you repent of everything you do. If I have
fooled away any opportunities it was not intentional; I beg to assure you
it was not intentional!”
“Don’t worry; you haven’t missed a trick that I know of. I never did a
thing in all my life, virtuous or otherwise, that I didn’t repent of in
twenty-four hours. In church last Sunday I listened to a charity sermon.
My first impulse was to give three hundred and fifty dollars; I repented
of that and reduced it a hundred; repented of that and reduced it another
hundred; repented of that and reduced it another hundred; repented of
that and reduced the remaining fifty to twenty-five; repented of that and
came down to fifteen; repented of that and dropped to two dollars and a
half; when the plate came around at last, I repented once more and
contributed ten cents. Well, when I got home, I did wish to goodness I
had that ten cents back again! You never did let me get through a