The Devil’s Dictionary, Ambrose Bierce [spicy books to read .TXT] 📗

earnestly pursued pleasure that he has had the misfortune to overtake it. Debt

An ingenious substitute for the chain and whip of the slave-driver.

As, pent in an aquarium, the troutlet
Swims round and round his tank to find an outlet,
Pressing his nose against the glass that holds him,
Nor ever sees the prison that enfolds him;
So the poor debtor, seeing naught around him,
Yet feels the narrow limits that impound him,
Grieves at his debt and studies to evade it,
And finds at last he might as well have paid it.

—⁠Barlow S. Vode Decalogue

A series of commandments, ten in number⁠—just enough to permit an intelligent selection for observance, but not enough to embarrass the choice. Following is the revised edition of the Decalogue, calculated for this meridian.

Thou shalt no God but me adore:
’Twere too expensive to have more.

No images nor idols make
For Robert Ingersoll to break.

Take not God’s name in vain; select
A time when it will have effect.

Work not on Sabbath days at all,
But go to see the teams play ball.

Honor thy parents. That creates
For life insurance lower rates.

Kill not, abet not those who kill;
Thou shalt not pay thy butcher’s bill.

Kiss not thy neighbor’s wife, unless
Thine own thy neighbor doth caress.

Don’t steal; thou’lt never thus compete
Successfully in business. Cheat.

Bear not false witness⁠—that is low⁠—
But “hear ’tis rumored so and so.”

Covet thou naught that thou hast not
By hook or crook, or somehow, got.

—⁠G. J. Decide

To succumb to the preponderance of one set of influences over another set.

A leaf was riven from a tree,
“I mean to fall to earth,” said he.

The west wind, rising, made him veer.
“Eastward,” said he, “I now shall steer.”

The east wind rose with greater force.
Said he: “ ’Twere wise to change my course.”

With equal power they contend.
He said: “My judgment I suspend.”

Down died the winds; the leaf, elate,
Cried: “I’ve decided to fall straight.”

“First thoughts are best?” That’s not the moral;
Just choose your own and we’ll not quarrel.

Howe’er your choice may chance to fall,
You’ll have no hand in it at all.

—⁠G. J. Defame

To lie about another. To tell the truth about another.

Defenceless

Unable to attack.

Degenerate

Less conspicuously admirable than one’s ancestors. The contemporaries of Homer were striking examples of degeneracy; it required ten of them to raise a rock or a riot that one of the heroes of the Trojan war could have raised with ease. Homer never tires of sneering at “men who live in these degenerate days,” which is perhaps why they suffered him to beg his bread⁠—a marked instance of returning good for evil, by the way, for if they had forbidden him he would certainly have starved.

Degradation

One of the stages of moral and social progress from private station to political preferment.

Deinotherium

An extinct pachyderm that flourished when the Pterodactyl was in fashion. The latter was a native of Ireland, its name being pronounced Terry Dactyl or Peter O’Dactyl, as the man pronouncing it may chance to have heard it spoken or seen it printed.

Dejeuner

The breakfast of an American who has been in Paris. Variously pronounced.

Delegation

In American politics, an article of merchandise that comes in sets.

Deliberation

The act of examining one’s bread to determine which side it is buttered on.

Deluge

A notable first experiment in baptism which washed away the sins (and sinners) of the world.

Delusion

The father of a most respectable family, comprising Enthusiasm, Affection, Self-denial, Faith, Hope, Charity and many other goodly sons and daughters.

All hail, Delusion! Were it not for thee
The world turned topsy-turvy we should see;
For Vice, respectable with cleanly fancies,
Would fly abandoned Virtue’s gross advances.

—⁠Mumfrey Mappel Dentist

A prestidigitator who, putting metal into your mouth, pulls coins out of your pocket.

Dependent

Reliant upon another’s generosity for the support which you are not in a position to exact from his fears.

Deputy

A male relative of an officeholder, or of his bondsman. The deputy is commonly a beautiful young man, with a red necktie and an intricate system of cobwebs extending from his nose to his desk. When accidentally struck by the janitor’s broom, he gives off a cloud of dust.

“Chief Deputy,” the Master cried,
“Today the books are to be tried
By experts and accountants who
Have been commissioned to go through
Our office here, to see if we
Have stolen injudiciously.
Please have the proper entries made,
The proper balances displayed,
Conforming to the whole amount
Of cash on hand⁠—which they will count.
I’ve long admired your punctual way⁠—
Here at the break and close of day,
Confronting in your chair the crowd
Of business men, whose voices loud
And gestures violent you quell
By some mysterious, calm spell⁠—
Some magic lurking in your look
That brings the noisiest to book
And spreads a holy and profound
Tranquillity o’er all around.
So orderly all’s done that they
Who came to draw remain to pay.
But now the time demands, at last,
That you employ your genius vast
In energies more active. Rise
And shake the lightnings from your eyes;
Inspire your underlings, and fling
Your spirit into everything!”
The Master’s hand here dealt a whack
Upon the Deputy’s bent back,
When straightway to the floor there fell
A shrunken globe, a rattling shell
A blackened, withered, eyeless head!
The man had been a twelvemonth dead.

—⁠Jamrach Holobom Destiny

A tyrant’s authority for crime and fool’s excuse for failure.

Diagnosis

A physician’s forecast of the disease by the patient’s pulse and purse.

Diaphragm

A muscular partition separating disorders of the chest from disorders of the bowels.

Diary

A daily record of that part of one’s life, which he can relate to himself without blushing.

Hearst kept a diary wherein were writ
All that he had of wisdom and of wit.
So the Recording Angel, when Hearst died,
Erased all entries of his own and cried:
“I’ll judge you by your diary.” Said Hearst:
“Thank you; ’twill show you I am Saint the First”⁠—
Straightway producing, jubilant and proud,
That record from a pocket in his shroud.
The Angel slowly turned the pages o’er,
Each stupid line of which he knew before,
Glooming and gleaming as by turns he hit
On shallow sentiment and stolen wit;
Then gravely closed the book and gave it back.
“My friend, you’ve wandered from your proper track:
You’d never be content this side the tomb⁠—
For big ideas Heaven has little room,
And Hell’s no latitude for making