uld have got to
Trieste in twelve hours. This was my proper way, for I had nothing to do
at Ancona, and it was a hundred miles longer; but I had said I would go
by Ancona, and I felt obliged to do so.

I had always a strong tincture of superstition, which has exercised
considerable influence on my strange career.

Like Socrates I, too, had a demon to whom I referred my doubtful
counsels, doing his will, and obeying blindly when I felt a voice within
me telling me to forbear.

A hundred times have I thus followed my genius, and occasionally I have
felt inclined to complain that it did not impel me to act against my
reason more frequently. Whenever I did so I found that impulse was right
and reason wrong, and for all that I have still continued reasoning.

When I arrived at Senegallia, at three stages from Ancona, my vetturino
asked me, just as I was going to bed, whether I would allow him to
accommodate a Jew who was going to Ancona in the chaise.

My first impulse made me answer sharply that I wanted no one in my
chaise, much less a Jew.

The vetturino went out, but a voice said within me, "You must take this'
poor Israelite;" and in spite of my repugnance I called back the man and
signified my assent.

"Then you must make up your mind to start at an earlier hour, for it is
Friday to-morrow, and you know the Jews are not allowed to travel after
sunset."

"I shall not start a moment earlier than I intended, but you can make
your horses travel as quickly as you like."

He gave me no answer, and went out. The next morning I found my Jew, an
honest-looking fellow, in the carriage. The first thing he asked me was
why I did not like Jews.

"Because your religion teaches you to hate men of all other religions,
especially Christians, and you think you have done a meritorious action
when you have deceived us. You do not look upon us as brothers. You are
usurious, unmerciful, our enemies, and so I do not like you."

"You are mistaken, sir. Come with me to our synagogue this evening, and
you will hear us pray for all Christians, beginning with our Lord the
Pope."

I could not help bursting into a roar of laughter.

"True," I replied, "but the prayer comes from the mouth only, and not
from the heart. If you do not immediately confess that the Jews would not
pray for the Christians if they were the masters, I will fling you out of
the chaise."

Of course I did not carry out this threat, but I completed his confusio