and, as he turned through them he
found himself more and more absorbed until, presently, he forgot time,
place, danger, everything; an hour passed, two hours, and still the
detective read on while his candle guttered down to the stick and the
brightening day filled his mean stable room; he was absolutely lost in a
most extraordinary human document, in one of those terrible utterances,
shameless and fearless, that are flung out, once in a century or so, from
the hot somber depths of a man's being.

I

I have kept this diary because it amuses me, because I am not
afraid, because my nature craves and demands some honest expression
somewhere. If these pages were read I should be destroyed. I
understand that, but I am in constant danger of being destroyed,
anyway. I might be killed by an automobile accident. A small artery
in my brain might snap. My heart might stop beating for various
reasons. And it is no more likely that this diary will be found
and read (with the precautions I have taken) than that one of these
other things will happen. Besides, I have no fear, since I regard
my own life and all other lives as of absolutely trifling
importance.

II

I say here to myself what thousands of serious and successful men
all over the world are saying to themselves, what the enormous
majority of men must say to themselves, that is, that I am (and
they are) constantly committing crimes and we are therefore
criminals. Some of us kill, some steal, some seduce virgins, some
take our friends' wives, but most of us, in one way or another,
deliberately and repeatedly break the law, so we are criminals.

III

Half the great men of this world are great criminals. The Napoleons
of war murder thousands, the Napoleons of trade and finance plunder
tens of thousands. It is the same among beasts and fishes, among
birds and insects, probably among angels and devils, everywhere we
find one inexorable law, resistless as gravitation, that impels the
strong to plunder and destroy the weak.

IV

It is five years since I committed what would be called a monstrous
and cowardly crime. As a matter of fact, I did what my intelligence
recognized as necessary and what was therefore my duty. However,
let us call it a crime. I have been interested to watch for any
consequences or effects of this crime in myself and I have
discovered none. I stud