barber; supposing, I say,
you see a stranger, his face accidentally averted, but his visible part
very respectable-looking; what now, barber--I put it to your conscience,
to your charity--what would be your impression of that man, in a moral
point of view? Being in a signal sense a stranger, would you, for that,
signally set him down for a knave?"

"Certainly not, sir; by no means," cried the barber, humanely resentful.

"You would upon the face of him----"

"Hold, sir," said the barber, "nothing about the face; you remember,
sir, that is out of sight."

"I forgot that. Well then, you would, upon the _back_ of him, conclude
him to be, not improbably, some worthy sort of person; in short, an
honest man: wouldn't you?"

"Not unlikely I should, sir."

"Well now--don't be so impatient with your brush, barber--suppose that
honest man meet you by night in some dark corner of the boat where his
face would still remain unseen, asking you to trust him for a shave--how
then?"

"Wouldn't trust him, sir."

"But is not an honest man to be trusted?"

"Why--why--yes, sir."

"There! don't you see, now?"

"See what?" asked the disconcerted barber, rather vexedly.

"Why, you stand self-contradicted, barber; don't you?"

"No," doggedly.

"Barber," gravely, and after a pause of concern, "the enemies of our
race have a saying that insincerity is the most universal and
inveterate vice of man--the lasting bar to real amelioration, whether of
individuals or of the world. Don't you now, barber, by your stubbornness
on this occasion, give color to such a calumny?"

"Hity-tity!" cried the barber, losing patience, and with it respect;
"stubbornness?" Then clattering round the brush in the cup, "Will you be
shaved, or won't you?"

"Barber, I will be shaved, and with pleasure; but, pray, don't raise
your voice that way. Why, now, if you go through life gritting your
teeth in that fashion, what a comfortless time you will have."

"I take as much comfort in this world as you or any other man," cried
the barber, whom the other's sweetness of temper seemed rather to
exasperate than soothe.

"To resent the imputation of anything like unhappiness I have often
observed to be peculiar to certain orders of men," said the other
pensively, and half to himself, "just as to be indifferent to that
imputation, from holding happiness but for a secondary good and inferior
grace, I have observed to be equally peculiar to other kinds of men.