NATURE
I dreamed that I had entered a vast subterranean chamber with a lofty, arched roof. It was completely filled by some sort of even light, also subterranean.
In the very centre of the chamber sat a majestic woman in a flowing robe green in hue. With her head bowed on her hand, she seemed to be immersed in profound meditation.
I immediately understood that this woman was Nature itself,—and reverent awe pierced my soul with an instantaneous chill.
I approached the seated woman, and making a respectful obeisance, "O our common mother," I exclaimed, "what is the subject of thy meditation? Art thou pondering the future destinies of mankind? As to how it is to attain the utmost possible perfection and bliss?"
The woman slowly turned her dark, lowering eyes upon me. Her lips moved, and a stentorian voice, like unto the clanging of iron, rang out:
"I am thinking how I may impart more power to the muscles in the legs of a flea, so that it may more readily escape from its enemies. The equilibrium of attack and defence has been destroyed…. It must be restored."
"What!" I stammered, in reply.—"So that is what thou art thinking about? But are not we men thy favourite children?"
The woman knit her brows almost imperceptibly.—"All creatures are my children," she said, "and I look after all of them alike,—and I annihilate them in identically the same way."
"But good … reason … justice…." I stammered again.