O.M. One, yes-a large one. It has no concealments, no deceptions. When a man leads a right and valuable life under it he is not deceived as to the _real _chief motive which impels him to it-in those other cases he is.

Y.M. Is that an advantage? Is it an advantage to live a lofty life for a mean reason? In the other cases he lives the lofty life under the _impression _that he is living for a lofty reason. Is not that an advantage?

O.M. Perhaps so. The same advantage he might get out of thinking himself a duke, and living a duke's life and parading in ducal fuss and feathers, when he wasn't a duke at all, and could find it out if he would only examine the herald's records.

Y.M. But anyway, he is obliged to do a duke's part; he puts his hand in his pocket and does his benevolences on as big a scale as he can stand, and that benefits the community.

O.M. He could do that without being a duke.

Y.M. But would he?

O.M. Don't you see where you are arriving?

Y.M. Where?

O.M. At the standpoint of the other schemes: That it is good morals to let an ignorant duke do showy benevolences for his pride's sake, a pretty low motive, and go on doing them unwarned, lest if he were made acquainted with the actual motive which prompted them he might shut up his purse and cease to be good?

Y.M. But isn't it best to leave him in ignorance, as long as he _thinks _he is doing good for others' sake?

O.M. Perhaps so. It is the position of the other schemes. They think humbug is good enough morals when the dividend on it is good deeds and handsome conduct.

Y.M. It is my opinion that under your scheme of a man's doing a good deed for his _own _sake first-off, instead of first for the _good deed's _sake, no man would ever do one.

O.M. Have you committed a benevolence lately?

Y.M. Yes. This morning.

O.M. Give the particulars.

Y.M. The cabin of the old negro woman who used to nurse me when I was a child and who saved my life once at the risk of her own, was burned last night, and she came mourning this morning, and pleading for money to build another one.

O.M. You furnished it?

Y.M. Certainly.

O.M. You were glad you had the money?

Y.M. Money? I hadn't. I sold my horse.

O.M. You were glad you had the horse?

Y.M. Of course I was; for if I hadn't had the horse I should have been incapable, and my _mother _would have captured the chance to set old Sally up.

O.M. You were cordially glad you were not caught out and incapable?

Y.M. Oh, I just was!

O.M. Now, then-

Y.M. Stop where you are! I know your whole catalog of questions, and I could answer every one of them without your wasting the time to ask them; but I will summarize the whole thing in a single remark: I did the charity knowing it was because the act would give _me _a splendid pleasure, and because old Sally's moving grat.i.tude and delight would give _me _another one; and because the reflection that she would be happy now and out of her trouble would fill _me _full of happiness. I did the whole thing with my eyes open and recognizing and realizing that I was looking out for _my _share of the profits first. Now then, I have confessed. Go on.

O.M. I haven't anything to offer; you have covered the whole ground. Can you have been any _more _strongly moved to help Sally out of her trouble-could you have done the deed any more eagerly-if you had been under the delusion that you were doing it for _her _sake and profit only?

Y.M. No! Nothing in the world could have made the impulse which moved me more powerful, more masterful, more thoroughly irresistible. I played the limit!

O.M. Very well. You begin to suspect-and I claim to know -that when a man is a shade _more strongly moved _to do _one _of two things or of two dozen things than he is to do any one of the others, he will infallibly do that _one _thing, be it good or be it evil; and if it be good, not all the beguilements of all the casuistries can increase the strength of the impulse by a single shade or add a shade to the comfort and contentment he will get out of the act.

Y.M. Then you believe that such tendency toward doing good as is in men's hearts would not be diminished by the removal of the delusion that good deeds are done primarily for the sake of No. 2 instead of for the sake of No. 1?

O.M. That is what I fully believe.

Y.M. Doesn't it somehow seem to take from the dignity of the deed?

O.M. If there is dignity in falsity, it does. It removes that.

Y.M. What is left for the moralists to do?

O.M. Teach unreservedly what he already teaches with one side of his mouth and takes back with the other: Do right _for your own sake, _and be happy in knowing that your _neighbor _will certainly share in the benefits resulting.

Y.M. Repeat your Admonition.

O.M. Diligently train your ideals upward and still upward toward a summit where you will find your chiefest pleasure in conduct which, while contenting you, will be sure to confer benefits upon your neighbor and the community.

Y.M. One's _every _act proceeds from exterior influences, you think?

O.M. Yes.

Y.M. If I conclude to rob a person, I am not the _originator _of the idea, but it comes in from the outside? I see him handling money-for instance-and _that _moves me to the crime?

O.M. That, by itself? Oh, certainly not. It is merely the _latest _outside influence of a procession of preparatory influences stretching back over a period of years. No _single _outside influence can make a man do a thing which is at war with his training. The most it can do is to start his mind on a new tract and open it to the reception of _new _influences-as in the case of Ignatius Loyola. In time these influences can train him to a point where it will be consonant with his new character to yield to the _final _influence and do that thing. I will put the case in a form which will make my theory clear to you, I think. Here are two ingots of virgin gold. They shall represent a couple of characters which have been refined and perfected in the virtues by years of diligent right training. Suppose you wanted to break down these strong and well-compacted characters-what influence would you bring to bear upon the ingots?

Y.M. Work it out yourself. Proceed.

O.M. Suppose I turn upon one of them a steam-jet during a long succession of hours. Will there be a result?

Y.M. None that I know of.

O.M. Why?

Y.M. A steam-jet cannot break down such a substance.

O.M. Very well. The steam is an _outside influence, _but it is ineffective because the gold _takes no interest in it. _The ingot remains as it was. Suppose we add to the steam some quicksilver in a vaporized condition, and turn the jet upon the ingot, will there be an instantaneous result?

Y.M. No.

O.M. The _quicksilver _is an outside influence which gold (by its peculiar nature-say _temperament, disposition) cannot be indifferent to. _It stirs up the interest of the gold, although we do not perceive it; but a _single _application of the influence works no damage. Let us continue the application in a steady stream, and call each minute a year. By the end of ten or twenty minutes-ten or twenty years-the little ingot is sodden with quicksilver, its virtues are gone, its character is degraded. At last it is ready to yield to a temptation which it would have taken no notice of, ten or twenty years ago. We will apply that temptation in the form of a pressure of my finger. You note the result?

Y.M. Yes; the ingot has crumbled to sand. I understand, now. It is not the _single _outside influence that does the work, but only the _last _one of a long and disintegrating acc.u.mulation of them. I see, now, how my _single _impulse to rob the man is not the one that makes me do it, but only the _last _one of a preparatory series. You might ill.u.s.trate with a parable.