"Never. That is a disease. I am in health."
"But, doctor," persisted Bergan, "should you call that a healthy body, which was incapable of feeling pain? Should you not rather say that it was paralyzed, or ossified?"
"Just as I should say that it was inflamed, if mere pressure caused it acute pain," answered Doctor Remy.
Bergan looked unconvinced.
"I do not mean that I never feel regret," explained the doctor. "I have often been angry with myself for having been guilty of a mistake."
"A mistake," repeated Bergan, doubtfully. "Do you mean a sin?"
"I will not be particular about terms," replied Doctor Remy, shrugging his shoulders. "But I prefer my own, as better expressing my ideas."
Bergan looked a little bewildered. The doctor again condescended to explain.
"Like you," said he, "I hold it to be every man's duty to make the most of his life,—his talents, time, and health. If he so act as to hinder the development, or impair the value and efficiency, of any of these, does it make any practical difference whether we call it a sin or a mistake?"
"None," answered Bergan, with scorn that he could not repress; "except that it narrows everything,—aim, responsibility, hope, faith, desire, and fulfilment,—down to man's miserable self!"