opist had the battle-spirit in his heart.

"Haw, Buck!" quoth he. "Come along there, ye lazy ones! What are ye
about, now? Gee!"

"Mankind, in Hollingsworth's opinion," thought I, "is but another yoke
of oxen, as stubborn, stupid, and sluggish as our old Brown and Bright.
He vituperates us aloud, and curses us in his heart, and will begin to
prick us with the goad-stick, by and by. But are we his oxen? And
what right has he to be the driver? And why, when there is enough else
to do, should we waste our strength in dragging home the ponderous load
of his philanthropic absurdities? At my height above the earth, the
whole matter looks ridiculous!"

Turning towards the farmhouse, I saw Priscilla (for, though a great way
off, the eye of faith assured me that it was she) sitting at Zenobia's
window, and making little purses, I suppose; or, perhaps, mending the
Community's old linen. A bird flew past my tree; and, as it clove its
way onward into the sunny atmosphere, I flung it a message for
Priscilla.

"Tell her," said I, "that her fragile thread of life has inextricably
knotted itself with other and tougher threads, and most likely it will
be broken. Tell her that Zenobia will not be long her friend. Say that
Hollingsworth's heart is on fire with his own purpose, but icy for all
human affection; and that, if she has given him her love, it is like
casting a flower into a sepulchre. And say that if any mortal really
cares for her, it is myself; and not even I for her realities,--poor
little seamstress, as Zenobia rightly called her!--but for the
fancy-work with which I have idly decked her out!"

The pleasant scent of the wood, evolved by the hot sun, stole up to my
nostrils, as if I had been an idol in its niche. Many trees mingled
their fragrance into a thousand-fold odor. Possibly there was a
sensual influence in the broad light of noon that lay beneath me. It
may have been the cause, in part, that I suddenly found myself
possessed by a mood of disbelief in moral beauty or heroism, and a
conviction of the folly of attempting to benefit the world. Our
especial scheme of reform, which, from my observatory, I could take in
with the bodily eye, looked so ridiculous that it was impossible not to
laugh aloud.

"But the joke is a little too heavy," thought I. "If I were wise, I
should get out of the scrape with all diligence, and then laugh at my
companions for remaining in it."

While thus musing, I heard wi