“Well, puritans’ eyes are like them magnifiers; they see the devil in everything but themselves, where he is plaguy apt to be found by them that want him; for he feels at home in their company. One time they vow he is a dancin’ master, and moves his feet so quick folks can’t see they are cloven, another time a music master, and teaches children to open their mouths and not their nostrils in singing. Now he is a tailor or milliner, and makes fashionable garments; and then a manager of a theatre, which is the most awful place in the world; it is a reflex of life, and the reflection is always worse than the original, as a man’s shadow is more dangerous than he is. But worst of all, they solemnly affirm, for they don’t swear, he comes sometimes in lawn sleeves, and looks like a bishop, which is popery, or in the garb of high churchmen, who are all Jesuits. Is it any wonder these cantin’ fellows pervert the understanding, sap the principles, corrupt the heart, and destroy the happiness of so many? Poor dear old Minister used to say, ‘Sam, you must instruct your conscience; for an ignorant or superstitious conscience is a snare to the unwary. If you think a thing is wrong that is not, and do it, then you sin, because you are doing what you believe in your heart to be wicked. It is the intention that constitutes the crime.’ Those sour crouts therefore, by creating artificial and imitation sin in such abundance, make real sin of no sort of consequence, and the world is so chock full of it, a fellow gets careless at last and won’t get out of its way, it’s so much trouble to pick his steps.
“Well, I was off in a brown study so deep about artificial sins, I didn’t hear Liddy come in, she shut the door so softly and trod on tiptoes so light on the carpet. The first thing I knew was I felt her hands on my head, as she stood behind me, a dividin’ of my hair with her fingers.
“‘Why, Sam,’ said she, ‘as I’m a livin’ sinner if you ain’t got some white hairs in your head, and there is a little bald patch here right on the crown. How strange it is! It only seems like yesterday you was a curly-headed boy.’
“‘Yes,’ sais I, and I hove a sigh so loud it made the window jar; ‘but I have seen a great deal of trouble since then. I lost two wives in Europe.’
“‘Now do tell,’ said she. ‘Why you don’t!—oh, jimminy criminy! two wives! How was it, poor Sam?’ and she kissed the bald spot on my pate, and took a rockin’-chair and sat opposite to me, and began rockin’ backwards and forwards like a fellow sawin’ wood. ‘How was it, Sam, dear?’
“‘Why,’ sais I, ‘first and foremost, Liddy, I married a fashionable lady to London. Well, bein’ out night arter night at balls and operas, and what not, she got kinder used up and beat out, and unbeknownst to me used to take opium. Well, one night she took too much, and in the morning she was as dead as a herring.’
“‘Did she make a pretty corpse?’ said Lid, lookin’ very sanctimonious. ‘Did she lay out handsum? They say prussic acid makes lovely corpses; it keeps the eyes from fallin’ in. Next to dyin’ happy, the greatest thing is to die pretty. Ugly corpses frighten sinners, but elegant ones win them.’
“‘The most lovely subject you ever beheld,’ said I. ‘She looked as if she was only asleep; she didn’t stiffen at all, but was as limber as ever you see. Her hair fell over her neck and shoulders in beautiful curls just like yourn; and she had on her fingers the splendid diamond rings I gave her; she was too fatigued to take ’em off when she retired the night afore. I felt proud of her even in death, I do assure you. She was handsome enough to eat. I went to ambassador’s to consult him about the funeral, whether it should be a state affair, with all the whole diplomatic corps of the court to attend it, or a private one. But he advised a private one; he said it best comported with our dignified simplicity as republicans, and, although cost was no object, still it was satisfactory to know it was far less expense. When I came back she was gone.’
“‘Gone!’ said Liddy, ‘gone where?’
“‘Gone to the devil, dear, I suppose.’