being, and to enable him to
produce the miserable bits of printed paper which are all that he has
to show for himself. Our lives were dear to us. In meadow and wood, in
air and water, we wandered harmless and innocent, enjoying the
pleasant sunlight, the light of heaven and the sparkling waves. We
were not worth much; we have no pretensions to high qualities. If the
person who stands here to answer for himself can affirm that his value
in the universe was equivalent to the value of all of us who were
sacrificed to feed him, we have no more to say. Let it be so
pronounced. We shall look at our numbers, and we shall wonder at the
judgment, though we shall withdraw our complaint. But for ourselves
we say freely that we have long watched him,--him and his
fellows,--and we have failed to see in what the superiority of the
human creature lies. We know him only as the most cunning, the most
destructive, and unhappily the longest lived of all carnivorous
beasts. His delight is in killing. Even when his hunger is satisfied,
he kills us for his mere amusement."
The oxen lowed approval, the sheep bleated, the birds screamed, the
fishes flapped their tails. I, for myself, stood mute and
self-condemned. What answer but one was possible? Had I been myself on
the bench I could not have hesitated. The fatal sentence of
condemnation was evidently about to be uttered, when the scene became
indistinct, there was a confused noise, a change of condition, a sound
of running feet and of many voices. I awoke. I was again in the
railway carriage; the door was thrown open; porters entered to take
our things. We stepped out upon the platform. We were at the terminus
for which we had been originally destined. Carriages and cabs were
waiting; tall powdered footmen flew to the assistance of the duke and
duchess. The station-master was standing hat in hand, and obsequiously
bowing; the minister's private secretary had come to meet his right
honorable chief with the red dispatch box, knowing the impatience with
which it was waited for. The duke shook hands with the archbishop
before he drove away. "Dine with us to-morrow?" he said. "I have had a
very singular dream. You shall be my Daniel and interpret it for me."
The archbishop regretted infinitely that he must deny himself the
honor; his presence was required at the Conference. "I too have
dreamt," he said; "but with your Grace and me the realities of this
world are too serious to leave us leisure
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