Fancy's Show-Box (From "Twice Told Tales")

In Short

This allegorical short story follows an elderly, respected man named Mr. Smith as he is visited by three spectral figures: Fancy, Memory, and Conscience. They present him with a series of images depicting crimes he contemplated but never acted upon, forcing him to confront the darkness of his own inner life. By juxtaposing his outward appearance of moral excellence with the secret, unexecuted sins stored in his memory, the work explores the nature of guilt and the necessity of repentance. Its lasting power lies in its unnerving psychological insight into the human capacity for imaginative evil.

The Story

Mr. Smith, a venerable gentleman of high standing, sits alone in his luxurious study, enjoying a glass of Madeira wine. As his thoughts wander, he is joined by three visitors: Fancy, who carries a portable picture-box; Memory, who holds a large ledger; and a third figure shrouded in a dusky mantle, whom Smith intuitively recognizes as Conscience. The visitors arrange themselves around him, and Fancy invites him to look through a magnifying glass at a series of scenes that appear within her box.

The first image shows a young man triumphantly standing over a kneeling, anguished girl. Smith is horrified to recognize the scenery and the figures: the young man is himself, and the girl is his long-lost first love, Martha Burroughs. He protests that he never ruined her—she married another and lived a reputable life—but Memory opens her book to a page detailing his secret, sinful intentions toward her. As the record is read, Conscience unveils her face and strikes Smith with a dagger, causing him intense pain.

The exhibition continues, each picture revealing a potential crime from Smith’s past. One scene depicts him standing over the corpse of his dearest friend, Edward Spencer, after a violent quarrel. Again, Smith defends himself, noting that Spencer died peacefully years later and left him a mourning ring. Memory admits the actual event was merely a drunken disagreement where Smith threw a bottle that missed its mark, yet the mere thought of the violence causes Conscience to strike him with the dagger again. A third, blurrier image suggests he once considered swindling three orphan children out of an inheritance. Though the plan failed, Memory confirms the existence of the plot, and Conscience inflicts a fresh, stinging wound.

Eventually, the pain becomes unbearable. Smith cries out in agony, and the three figures vanish. He is left alone in his chair with his wine, yet the psychological trauma remains, his heart still smarting from the spectral dagger. The narrative concludes by reflecting on the nature of human morality. It suggests that while the law only punishes physical acts, the soul is not necessarily innocent simply because it lacked the courage or opportunity to commit a crime. It argues that all humans share a brotherhood with the guilty, as everyone has harbored dark impulses. Ultimately, the story asserts that no one can rely on a pristine reputation for salvation; only through genuine penitence can the stains of the secret heart be cleansed.

How It Unfolds

The visitation While sitting in the quiet luxury of his home, Mr. Smith is visited by the personifications of Fancy, Memory, and Conscience. They surround him, preparing to display scenes that reveal the hidden history of his inner life.

The display of sin Fancy uses her magnifying glass to project images of crimes Smith never actually committed but once desired to perform. Each image triggers an immediate, painful reaction from Conscience, who pierces his heart as if he were truly a criminal.

The defense of the ego Smith repeatedly denies the validity of these visions by citing his outward life and the lack of physical harm done to others. He struggles to reconcile his public persona as a virtuous man with the "shadows" of the wicked deeds captured in the pictures.

The departure and reflection Overwhelmed by the agony inflicted by Conscience, Smith drives the visitors away, only to find himself alone with the lingering, festering pain of his own self-recognition. The narrative then shifts to an analytical tone, discussing whether an evil thought carries the same moral weight as an evil action.

The final moral The story closes by asserting that every person, regardless of their clean hands, has a heart polluted by the phantoms of iniquity. It concludes that human pride in moral excellence is a delusion, and that only mercy and repentance can address the stains upon the soul.

The People

Mr. Smith is a silver-haired, elderly man who has spent his life building a reputation as a pillar of moral excellence. He believes himself to be defined by his social standing and his physical restraint, but he is fundamentally unprepared for the internal scrutiny of his own conscience. His primary obstacle is his own belief that he is "unstained" because he never acted on his darkest impulses.

Fancy acts as the catalyst for the drama. By presenting the images, she forces Smith to confront the "shadows" of his past thoughts. She represents the imaginative power that allows a person to dwell upon crimes in the seclusion of their own mind.

Memory serves as the objective, albeit sometimes confused, record-keeper. She provides the necessary context for the pictures, confirming that while Smith did not commit the crimes, he did indeed "plot and resolve" upon them. She strips away his ability to claim ignorance or innocence.

Conscience is the most aggressive figure, acting as an executor of internal judgment. She remains veiled for much of the ordeal, but her intervention provides the visceral, painful consequences for Smith's unacted sins. By the end, she successfully breaks his illusion of moral superiority, leaving him to face the reality of his own soul.

In Its Own Voice

Regarding the capacity for internal sin, the narrator observes:

In the solitude of a midnight chamber, or in a desert, afar from men, or in a church, while the body is kneeling, the soul may pollute itself even with those crimes, which we are accustomed to deem altogether carnal.

When reflecting on the dangerous proximity between imagination and action, the narrator notes:

Thus a novel-writer, or a dramatist, in creating a villain of romance, and fitting him with evil deeds, and the villain of actual life, in projecting crimes that will be perpetrated, may almost meet each other, half-way between reality and fancy.

What It's Really About

The story explores the tension between legal definitions of crime and the spiritual reality of intention. It argues that a human being is not merely a collection of physical actions, but a complex entity whose soul is shaped by what it contemplates. By suggesting that "guilty thoughts" are the precursors to "guilty deeds," the work challenges the reader to consider the moral validity of the unlived life. It posits that a "pattern of moral excellence" may be nothing more than a mask if the heart has harbored malice. Ultimately, it is a meditation on the universal necessity of humility and repentance, suggesting that no one can stand before the "supreme court of eternity" and claim to be entirely without sin.

Why Read It Today

This story will appeal to readers who enjoy psychological character studies and moral philosophy. Its prose is elegant, measured, and deeply contemplative, reflecting the mid-19th-century focus on the intersection of Puritan theology and individual conscience. Because it functions as a "morality" piece, it offers a distinct, intellectual experience that eschews modern pacing for a slow, deliberate unveiling of a man's inner turmoil.

Those who appreciate complex, nuanced questions about the nature of human goodness will find much to consider here. However, readers should be prepared for the story’s archaic rhythm and its heavy reliance on allegorical figures, which can feel detached from contemporary realism. The text deals with themes of aging, regret, and the hidden life of the mind, which remain as poignant today as when they were written. It is a brief but profound encounter with the idea that our most dangerous adversary is often the one we carry within ourselves. While the vocabulary is formal, the core emotional struggle—the sudden realization that one is not the person they believed themselves to be—is a universal experience that leaves a quiet, haunting impression long after the final page is turned.