WEALTH WITHOUT WINGS. 93

 

ing? No, you say, as a matter of course. And
yet, you but just now were inclined to justify sharp
dealing, on the ground that all were sharpers—quot-
ing the saying of some, that no honest man could
trade successfully in the present time. For the di-
rect stealing of a few articles of trifling value, you
hand a poor, ignorant domestic over to the police,
yet feel no righteous indignation against the better-
taught man of business, who daily robs his customers
in some one form or another.”

‘You are too serious by far, Edward,” returned
his companion, forcing a laugh. ‘ Your mind has
fallen into a morbid state. But you will get over
this one of these times. Good evening! Our ways
part here. Good evening !”

And the young man turned off abruptly.

‘‘A morbid state,” mused Claire to himself, as
he continued on alone. ‘So thousands would say.
But is it so? Is honesty or dishonesty the morbid
state? How direct a question! How plain the
answer! Honesty is health—dishonesty the soul’s
sickness. ‘T'o be honest, is to live in obedience to
social and divine laws; dishonesty is the violation
of these. Is it possible for a diseased body to give
physical enjoyment? No! Nor can a diseased
mind give true mental enjoyment. ‘To seek happi-
ness in the possession of wealth obtained through
wrong to the neighbour, is as fruitless as to seek
bodily pleasure in those practices which inevitably
destroy the health. ‘To me, this is self-evident, and
may God give me strength to live according to my
clear convictions !”’

The very earnestness with which Claire mentally