San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1888-08-14
THE LOST CONSCIENCE.

before. The streets and theatres were always
crowded, men went about their business as
usual, stirred by the same ambitions, and. if
a good thing came in their way, each still
struggled to be the first to snap it up No
one noticed that something had suddenly dis
appeared, that in the great orchestra of life
one flute had ceased to play.
Some people even began to feel themselves
more free and more at ease in their minds;
they walked with lighter step, and under
stood better the joy of tripping up neigh
Dor, the delight of flattering, cringing, de-
ceiving, lying and slandering.
1t seemed as if all the difficulties of life had
been done away with by magic. Men did not
walk the common earth, they felt themselves
carried along above it; nothing affected
them, nothing made them stop to think.
Everything, present and future, seemed to be-
long to these happy people who had lost con-
science without even knowing their loss.
had disappeared suddenly-in an instant.
Yesterday Conscience had been there, visible
to all eyes, tedious hanger on, always de-
handing attention, and now suddenly it's
place was empty. Many troublesome ideas
had disappeared with it, and particularly
that moral discomfort which attends an inner
monitor. Now, nothing was left to hinder
man from floating down the stream of life,
enjoying all the pleasures that came in their
way. The children of this world felt that
they had shaken off the last chain which
had bound them; and it is needless to say
that they fastened to enjoy their liberty.
Now came the opportunity of the violent.
Nothing was heard of but crime and robbery,
and a general ruin began
Meanwhile the unfortunate Conscience lay
bruised and trOdden under foot in the high
way, every one kicking it as he passed. Men
walked over it as they would have done over
any other miserable rag, wondering how it
was that such a thing was allowed to lie in
the busiest thorouGhfare of a well ordered
town, in broad daylight.
Heaven knows that the poor outcast might
have lain there long enough, but for
wretChed drunkard, who, after eyeing it
stupidity, picked it UP, in the hope that he
might be able to sell it for glass Of brandy.
All at once. he felt sort of electric shock
through his whole being. He looked about
him confusedly, and felt that the fumes of
wine were clearing away from his brain.
Little by little there came back to him the
bitter knowledge of his real conditional
knowledge from which he had escaped at the
price of drowning all his energies in drink.
At first he felt nothing but fear that
unreaSOning fear which sometimes seizes a
man when he is dimly aware that some
danger threatens him. Then his memory
awo6e; then his imagination began to speak.
From the darkness of the shameful past his
pitiless memory recalled every deed of VIC
lence, treachery and injustice of which he
had been guilty, everything that marked the
degradation of his soul, while his magma
ton gave fresh life to all the details At
last he had awakened from his long sleep,
but only to find himself in court of justice,
where he was at once judge and prisoner.
His past life seemed to the miserable drunk
ard one long crime, one perpetual shame. 1t
was not long after question, examination and
analysis, that this became clear to hlm-the
first glance was enough. He saw his
own degradation, and felt a thousand
times more severely punished by this
tribunal which he had himself set up,
and before which his own will had brought
him, than he could have been by the harshest
human judgment He would not even plead
in extenuation that the greater part of this
past life, which he so deplored, had been be-
yond his control-degraded, miserable drunk
ard that he was; that mysterious power had
cast him into this world, and driven him
through it, as a hurricane, whirling across
the steppes, drives before it a slender blade
of grass What was his past life? Why had
it taken that course and not another! And
he himself, what was he! These were queS-
tions to which there was no answer He was
only conscious Of complete Ignorance and
deep establishment. And now that Con-
science had found him, what good could he
do? Had she come merely to ask him merci-
less questions, to which there was no answer'
Had she visited this ruined dwelling only ~
revive in it its former life? But then, ruined
as it was, such shock would be more than
it could bear. Alas! Conscience awakened
brought neither hope nor peace; she only
shook off her lethargy to lead him into
court, where bis plea of guilty led to no pun
ishment. Formerly he had lived surrounded
by a mist; today there was the same mist,
but it was thronged with faces dire; at other
times he had been encountered with heavy
chains, but today their weight was doubled
because he understood clearly what chains
they were.
Our drunkard began to shed idle tears; the
worthy folk who were passing promptly
gathered round him, declaring that nothing
but drink was the matter with him. my
friends, cannot help crying" said the I'M
happy drunkard; sit is too much for me-"
and the people shouted with laughter. They
did not perceive that he had never been more
sober than at this moment, and that he had
really made discovery which was breaking
his heart. If this crowd had made similar
discovery itself, it would certainly have I'M
derstood that a sorrows crown of sorrow is
TO find ones conscience when one least ex-
poets it; it would have realized that it also