One evening, getting back much inebriated from one of my
torment about town, I liked that the feline kept away from my presence.
I held onto him, when, in his dread at my viciousness, he caused a
slight injury upon my hand with his teeth. The rage of an evil spirit
in a split second had me. I knew myself no more. My unique
soul appeared immediately to take its departure from my body, and a
more than naughty vindictiveness, gin-sustained, excited each
fiber of my casing. I took from my petticoat pocket a penknife,
opened it, got a handle on the unfortunate monster by the throat, and
purposely cut one of its eyes from the attachment! I become flushed, I consume, I
shiver, while I pen the awful atrocity.[Pg 152]At the point when reason got back with the morning — when I had worked off
the exhaust of the night's defile — I encountered a feeling
a big part of frightfulness, a big part of regret, for the wrongdoing of which I had been
liable, however it was, best case scenario, a weak and dubious inclination, and the
soul stayed immaculate. I again dove into abundance, and
before long suffocated in wine all memory of the deed.
Meanwhile the feline gradually recuperated. The attachment of the lost
eye introduced, it is valid, a horrible appearance, yet he no
longer seemed to experience any aggravation. He approached the house as
normal, be that as it may, as may be normal, escaped in outrageous fear at my
approach. I had such a great deal my old heart left as to be right away
lamented by this clear abhorrence with respect to an animal which
had once so adored me. Yet, this feeling before long gave spot to
aggravation. And afterward came, as though to my last and unavoidable
oust, the soul of Backwards nature. Of this soul theory
fails to check. However I'm not all the more certain that my spirit lives
than I'm that unreasonableness is one of the crude motivations of
the human heart — one of the indissoluble essential resources or
feelings which provided guidance to the personality of Man. Who
has not, multiple times, ended up committing a despicable or a
senseless activity just because he knows he
shouldn't? Have we not a ceaseless tendency, in that frame of mind of
our best judgment, to
abuse what is Regulation, just in light of the fact that we comprehend it to
be such? This soul of backwards nature, I express, came to my last oust. It was this unbelievable yearning of the spirit to vex
itself — to offer savagery to its own inclination — to foul up for the
wrong's purpose just — that asked me to proceed with and[Pg 153]
at long last to perfect the injury I had caused upon the
unoffending beast. One morning, in cool blood, I slipped a
noose about its neck and balanced it to the appendage of a tree; hung it
with the tears spilling from my eyes, and with the bitterest
regret at my heart; hung it since I realized it had cherished me,
what's more, since I felt it had provided me with not a great explanation of offense; hung it
since I realized that in this manner I was committing a transgression — a
destructive sin that would so imperil my undying soul as to
place it, on the off chance that something like this were conceivable, even past the scope of
the limitless leniency of the Most Benevolent and Most Horrendous God.
The evening of the day on which this horrible deed was finished, I
was stimulated from rest by the call of fire. The draperies of my
bed were on fire. The entire house was blasting. It was with
incredible trouble that my better half, a worker, and myself, made our
escape from the fire. The annihilation was finished.
My whole common abundance was gobbled up, and I surrendered
myself forward to surrender.