The temptation was great, but it would be his newfound
conscience that saved his old hide.
By Aribald Ruedge
CONSCIENCE
fOx
A
and a
onscience," the negro minister had solemnly
said in his sermon that Sunday, "is sho' going to
keep a man good. It will make yo' 'fraid to lie, or steal,
or bear false witness."
Ben, the old negro who had outlived his generation
and who was sheltered in his desolate old age by Col.
Henry Jocelyn, had listened intently to the sermon.
The word conscience had moved him strangely. There
was something just and pure about it.
For a greater part of Monday Ben, with his gray head
bowed and his huge hands hanging idly by his side, sat
in his solitary cabin and mused over the message that
had come to him. All his physical faculties had long
since been impaired, but his mental faculties remained
perfectly clear. And as he pondered the sermon, nearly
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