“Your picture flatters!”
“You flatter me; it’s only a photograph. Come North and see.”
“One might think, from your account, the American had rather be bad than good.”
“O dear, no! The American had much rather be good than bad!”
“Your admission amazes me!”
“But also the American had rather be rich than good. And he is having his wish. And money’s golden hand is tightening on the throat of liberty while the labor union stabs liberty in the back—for trusts and unions are both trying to kill liberty. And the soul of Uncle Sam has turned into a dollar-inside his great, big, strong, triumphant flesh; so that even his new religion, his own special invention, his last offering to the creeds of the world, his gatherer of converted hordes, his Christian Science, is based upon physical benefit.”
John touched the horses. “You’re particularly cheerful to-day!”
“No. I merely summarize what I’m seeing.”
“Well, a moral awakening will come,” he declared.
“Inevitably. To-morrow, perhaps. The flesh has had a good, long, prosperous day, and the hour of the spirit must be near striking. And the moral awakening will be followed by a moral slumber, since, in the uncomprehended scheme of things, slumber seems necessary; and you needn’t pull so long a face, Mr. Mayrant, because the slumber will be followed by another moral awakening. The alcoholic society girl you don’t like will very probably give birth to a water-drinking daughter—who in her turn may produce a bibulous progeny: how often must I tell you that nothing is final?”