"Well, what is it?" asked Paul ungraciously.
"I want you to write another book to counteract the influence of Shams and Shadows. No one understands better than I do the feelings which influenced you when you wrote it; but feelings pass away, and a man is not always the same man. The talent displayed in the pages of your book might have a decided influence for good if used in a right direction; and I want you so to use it, and to rise to higher things on the stepping-stone of the dead self that wrote Shams and Shadows."
Paul smoked in silence, and Edgar went on: "And there is another argument I would use, if I were sure you would forgive me for using it, and not think me interfering or impertinent."
"Go on," said Paul, "it is all right.".
"You see," said Edgar, "if we do anything as the result of a state of mind which has been brought on by the action of another person, that person is, in a measure, responsible for our action."
Paul nodded, and Edgar continued: "If we had ever loved that person, I do not think we should like to feel that they—through us—had wrought lasting evil; this conviction would be a source of endless remorse to us, for the old love's sake, even long after that love was a thing of the past. We might be content to bear the consequences of our own share of ill-doing; but we could not endure the idea that we ourselves had increased the responsibility of any one who had once been dear to us, however thoroughly they might have forfeited our affection. I won't say any more, old man; it is very good of you to have listened to me so far; and I think you will understand what I mean."
"Look here," replied Paul, "you have spoken very kindly to me, and I appreciate what you have said and, perhaps still more, what you have left unsaid; and I will confess to you what I have confessed to no other living soul, namely, that I regret with all my heart that Shams and Shadows was ever written. I would gladly give twenty years of my life to unwrite it if I could; but that, unfortunately, is impossible."
"You cannot unwrite it, I know," said Edgar, "but you can write a new book that will prove its antidote; and, by your new book's superior depth and power, you can make men forget that Shams and Shadows was ever written." And he laid a brotherly hand on his friend's shoulder.
Paul rose from his chair and stood with one elbow on the chimney-piece. "That is what I have been intending to do for some time. I mean to devote all my powers to writing a book in my right mind and in my right name, and I will endeavour to teach men that what is good is good, and what is bad is bad, which is, after all, the end of human wisdom. And people shall see that the cynicism of Shams and Shadows was the crying of an unhappy and wayward child rather than the knowledge and experience of a full-grown man."
"What will be the name of the new book?" asked Edgar.