Yet in intelligence you are, I
fancy, somewhat ahead of your far-off progenitors: long use has also
given you something like a conscience. You are a good, sensible beast,
that's all. You love and serve your master, according to your lights;
night and day, you, with your fellows, guard his flocks and herds, his
house and fields. Into his sacred house, however, you do not intrude
your comely countenance, knowing your place."
"What, then, happened to earth, and how long did that undreaming slumber
last from which I woke to find things so altered? I do not know, nor
does it matter very much. I only know that there has been a sort of
mighty Savonarola bonfire, in which most of the things once valued have
been consumed to ashes--politics, religions, systems of philosophy, isms
and ologies of all descriptions; schools, churches, prisons, poorhouses;
stimulants and tobacco; kings and parliaments; cannon with its hostile
roar, and pianos that thundered peacefully; history, the press, vice,
political economy, money, and a million things more--all consumed like
so much worthless hay and stubble.
Pages:
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273