falsehood--for it is well known that the thief and liar are convertible
terms--his eye feeble, cunning, and circumspective, and his whole
appearance redolent of duplicity and fraud; the receiver of stolen
goods, affecting much honest simplicity; the good creature, whether man
or woman, apparently in great distress, and wondering that industrious
and unsuspecting people, struggling to bring up their families in
honesty and decency, should be imposed upon and taken in by people that
one couldn't think of suspecting. There, too, was the servant out
of place, who first a forger of discharges, next became a thief, and
heroically adventuring to the dignity of a burglar for which he had
neither skill nor daring, was made prisoner in the act; and there he
sits, half drunk, in that corner, repenting his failure instead of
his crime, forgetting his cowardice, and making moral resolutions with
himself, that, should he escape now, he will execute the next burglary
in a safe and virtuous state of sobriety. But we need not proceed: there
was the idle and drunken mechanic, or, perhaps, the wife, whose Saturday
night visits to the tap-room in order to fetch him home, or to rescue
the wages of his industry from the publican, had at length corrupted
herself.

Two other characters were there which we cannot overlook, both of whom
had passed through the world with a strong but holy scorn for the errors
and failings of their fellow-creatures. One of them was a man of gross,
carnal-looking features, trained, as it seemed to the uninitiated, into
a severe and sanctified expression by the sheer force of religion. His
face was full of godly intolerance against everything at variance with
the one thing needful, whatever that was, and against all who did not,
like himself, travel on fearlessly and zealously Zionward. He did not
feel himself justified in the use of common and profane language; and,
consequently, his vocabulary was taken principally from the Bible, which
he called "the Lord's word." Sunday was not Sunday with him, but "the
Lord's day;" and he never went to church in his life, but always to
"service." Like most of his class, however, he seemed to be influenced
by that extraordinary anomaly which characterizes the saints--that is to
say, as great a reverence for the name of the devil as for that of God
himself; for in his whole life and conversation he was never known to
pronounce it as we have written it. Satan--the enemy--the dest