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
