He came over to us, and smiled. “Is not this better than acting, Mary?
“Yes, surely—if one can do it.”
Said he: “Everyone could do it, if they knew.”
“Is that really true?” she asked, with passionate earnestness.
“There is a god in every man, and in every woman.”
“Why don't they know it, then?”
“There is a god, and also a beast. The beast is old, and familiar, and powerful; the god is new, and strange, and afraid. Because of his fear, the beast kills him.”
“What is the beast?”
“His name is self; and he has many forms. In men he is greed; in women he is vanity, and goes attired in much raiment—the chains, and the bracelets, and the mufflers—”
“Oh, don't!” cried Mary, wildly.