What he
pursues, then, must be fleeting--imagine with what rapture he takes it to
his breast! with what frenzy he guards it, never knowing when it will be
required of him again. Feverish? (This was upon a remark from her.) Yes,
and why not? Are not dreams more vivid than waking life? Can you gallop
your material horse as your courser of the mind? Better to burn than to
rust. That's the secret of life--which all the laws of bureaucrats are
directed to destroy. The establishments want to see us as fixed as
themselves. They are tentacled, stationary creatures, feeding at ease.
They would have us handy of access, falsely secure, so that they can
fasten on us one by one and suck our juices. But the world is changing,
thrones and churches are slackening in their hold. Men are discovering how
short a time they have to live, and that eternity is more than
questionable. A mild Epicureanism is gaining ground. Instincts founded on
the patriarchal system must give way to that. "Have you ever considered,"
he asked abruptly, "that the flocks and herds of the Semitic patriarch are
the sole cause of the moral code which we still profess? Thou shalt not
steal. Why not? Because you injure the patriarch.
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