Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1888-08-01
The Stnrp Teller.

VIe S1nrg URlIRr.
THE LOST CONSCIENCE.
Conscience was lost, but things went on
as before. The streets and theatres were
always crowded, men went about their
business as usual, stirred by the same am
bitions, and, if a good thing came in their
way, each still struggled to be the first to
snap it up. No one noticed that some
thing had suddenly disappeared, that IN
the great orchestra of life one flute had
ceased to play.
Some people even began to feel them
selves more free aid more at ease in their
minds; they walked with a lighter step,
and understood better the JOY Of tripping
up q neighbor, the delight of fattering,
cringing, deceiving, lying and slandering.
1t seemed as if 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 moth
ing affected them, nothing made them stop
to think. Everything, present and future,
seemed to belong to those happy people
who had lost conscience without even
knowing their loss.
It had disappeared suddenly-in an in
slant. Yesterday Conscience had been
there, visible to all eyes, a tedious hanger
on, always demanding attention, and now
suddenly its 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 men from float
ing 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 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 rob-
berry, and general ruin began.
Meanwhile the unfortunate Conscience
lay bruised and trodden under foot in the
highway, every one kicking it as he pass
ed. Men walked over it as they would
haye done over any other miserable rag,
wondering how it was that such thing
was allowed to lie in the busiest thorough
fare of q we'll ordered town, in broad day
light.
Heaven knows that the poor outcast
might have lain there long enough, but
for wretched drunkard, who, after eye
ing it stupidity picked it up, in hope that
he might be able to sell it for glass Of
brandy. All at once, he felt sort of elec-
trio 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 condition. knowledge from
which he had escaped at the price Of
drowning all his energies in drink. At
first he felt nothing but fear, that unreas-
oning fear which sometimes seizes man
when he is dimly aware that some dan
ger threatens him. Then his memory
awoke; then his imagination began to
speak. From the darkness of the shame
full past his pitiless memory recalled every
deed of violence, treachery and injustice
of which he had been guilty, everything
that marked the degradation Of his soul,
while his imagination gave fresh life to
all the details. At last he had awakened
from his long sleep, but only to find HIM
self in court of justice, where he was at
once Judge and prisoner. His past life
seemed to the miserable drunkard one
long crime, one perpetual shame. 1t was
not long after question, examination and
analysis, that this became clear to him
the first glance was enough. He saw his
own degradation,r and felt a thousand
times more severely punished by this tri,
bunal 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 20
deplored, had been beyond his control
degraded, miserable drunkard that he
was; that mysterious power had cast
him into this world, and driven him
through it, as 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 questions to which there was no
answer. He was only conscious of COM
plete ignorance and deep astonishment.
And now that Conscience had found him,
what good could he do? Had she come
merely to ask him merciless questions to
which there was no answer? Had she
visited this ruined dwelling only to revive
in it's former life? But then, ruined as it
was, such a 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 a
court, where his plea of guilty led to no
punishment. Formerly he had lived sur
rounded by mist; to-day there was the
same mist, but it was thronged with faces
dire; at other times he had been encum-
bered with heavy chains, but to-day 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 prompt
ly gathered round him, declaring that
nothing but drink was the matter with
him. "My friends, Icannot help crying,"
said the unhappy drunkard; lit is too
much for me-" and the people shouted
with laughter. They did not perceive
that he had really made discovery which
was breaking his heart. If this crowd
would certainly have understood that a
sorrows crown of sorrow is to find ones
conscience when one least expects it; it
would have realized that it also was as
degraded in mind and body as the drunk
ard who was bemoaning himself before it..
"No, said the wretched creature, II
must rid myself of this, cost what it may,
or I am done for" and he prepared at
once to throw his wfndfall into the road,
but was prevented from doing so by a
policeman, who said, shaking his finger
at him:
"See here, my good fellow, it strikes
me that you are looking but for chance
of distributing revolutionary pamphlets
on the sly. Well soon have you in the
lock up" The drunkard hastily put his
find in his pocket and made off. He went
stealthily, looking round to see that
no one was watching him, toward the
wineshop of ali old acquaintance of his,
named Prokoritch. Before going in he
peeped carefully through the window,
and seeing that there were no customers in
the shop and that Prokoritch was doing