you deserve the gallows."

"Wait a moment," said Quimbleton. "Now comes the other side of the
argument. If you grant us this concession we in turn will put you
in possession of a magnificent idea. You think that you have
prohibited everything. Your vetoes cumber the earth. But there is
still one thing you have forgotten to prohibit."

"What is it?" said the Bishop coldly. His hard face was unmoved,
but his eyes brightened a trifle.

"There is one thing you have forgotten to prohibit," said
Quimbleton solemnly. "I can hardly conceive how it escaped you.
The one thing that harasses human beings over the whole civilized
world. The one thing which, if you were to abolish it, would make
your name, foul as that now is, blessed in the ears of men. Oh,
the joy of still having something to prohibit! The unmixed bliss
and high privilege of the vetoing function! I envy you, from my
heart, in still having something to forbid."

The Bishop stirred uneasily in his chair. "What is it?" he said.

Quimbleton watched him with a steady and slightly annoying smile.

"I like to dwell in imagination upon your surprise when you
realize what you have overlooked. It seems so simple! To abolish,
prohibit, banish, and remove, at one swoop, the chief
preoccupation of mankind! The simple and high-minded felicity of
still having something prohibitable subject to your omnipotent
legislation! But there, I dare say I am wrong. Probably you are