n
your family had been handed over to the police."

"True. She was a thief. We found in her trunk a number of valuable
articles that she had stolen from us."

"And you did right. You owed this summary justice as well to the
purloiner as to the public. Now, there are many ways of stealing,
besides this direct mode. If I deprive you of your property with
design, I steal from you. Isn't that clear?"

"Certainly."

"And I am, to use plain words, a thief. Well, now take this easily
to be understood case. I have a lot of goods to sell, and you wish to
purchase them. In the trade I manage to get from you, through direct
misrepresentation, or in a tacit advantage of your ignorance, more
than the goods are really worth. Do I not cheat you?"

"Undoubtedly."

"And having purposely deprived you of a portion of your money, am I
not a thief?"

"In all that goes to make up the morality of the case, you are."

"The truth, unquestionably. Need I proceed further? By your own
admission, every businessman who takes undue advantage of another in
dealing, steals."

"Pretty close cutting, that, friend Claire. It wouldn't do to talk
that right out at all times and in all places."

"Why not?"

"I rather think it would make some people feel bad; and others regard
themselves as insulted."

"I can believe so. But we are only talking this between ourselves.
And now I come back to my rather abrupt question--Do you approve of
stealing? No, you say, as a matter of course. And yet, you but just
now were inclined to justify sharp dealing, on the ground that all
were sharpers--quoting the saying of some, that no honest man could
trade successfully in the present time. For the direct stealing of
a few articles of trifling value, you hand a poor, ignorant domestic
over to the police, yet feel no righteous indignation against the
better-taught man of business, who daily robs his customers in some
one form or another."

"You are too serious by far, Edward," returned his companion, forcing
a laugh. "Your mind has fallen into a morbid state. But you will get
over this one of these times. Good evening! Our ways part here. Good
evening!"

And the young man turned off abruptly.

"A morbid state," mused Claire to himself, as he continued on alone.
"So thousands would say. But is it so? Is honesty or dishonesty the
morbid state? How direct a question! How plain the answer! Honesty is
health--dishonesty the soul's sickness. To be honest, is to