“Think only of the fire-machines which they now call steam-engines. And of the telegraphs! What may we not next expect!”
“War, of course.”
“I have never loved war, as you know, but I have been driven to it.”
“With the stick.”
The King was not angry, but he was troubled that a remarkable man, who had been his friend and teacher, should commit such a bêtise.
“You are right; it was my father’s stick, and I bless it. But although I do not believe that the Golden Age is before the door, yet I do see a brighter future in the distance.”
“I see only clouds which foretell earthquakes. France is undermined; America is moving; all Europe is prepared to discard Christianity as a crab its shell; Economics are reduced to a science; nature is ransacked; we are on the verge of something novel and tremendous; I feel it already in my corns.”
“I also! My leisure-time is drawing to an end, my Tusculum will be closed, and dreadful things are about to happen.”
On the King’s face at this moment there was such an indescribable expression of pain, as though he had foreseen the Seven Years’ War which followed immediately on the seven years’ of peace, and he seemed to be bowed to the earth bearing the destiny of his country and the future on his shoulders.
“Sire, at such moment, you need some religion.”