Cæsar's Column: A Story of the Twentieth Century — John Shaqi
Cæsar's Column: A Story of the Twentieth CenturyDonnelly, Ignatius
Science
Cæsar's Column: A Story of the Twentieth Century
Donnelly, Ignatius
Dystopias -- Fiction; New York (N.Y.) -- Fiction; Science fiction; Social problems -- Fiction; Twentieth century -- Fiction
CHAPTER VIII.
THE BROTHERHOOD
I cannot give you, my dear brother, a detailed account of every day's
occurrences, although I know that your love for me would make every
incident of interest to you. I shall, however, jot down my
reflections on sheets, and send them to you as occasion serves.
The more I have seen, and the more I have conversed with Maximilian,
the more clearly I perceive that the civilized world is in a
desperate extremity. This Brotherhood of Destruction, with its
terrible purposes and its vast numbers, is a reality. If the ruling
class had to deal only with a brutalized peasantry, they might, as
they did in other ages, trample them into animal-like inability to
organize and defend themselves. But the public school system, which,
with the other forms of the Republic, is still kept up, has made, if
not all, at least a very large percentage of the unhappy laboring
classes intelligent. In fact, they are wonderfully intelligent; their
organizations have been to them clubs, debating societies and
legislatures. And you know that all the greatest minds of the earth
have come out of the masses, if not directly, at least after one or
two removes. The higher aristocracy have contributed but very few to
the honored catalogue of men of pre-eminent genius. And therefore you
will not be surprised to hear that in these great organizations there
have arisen, from among the very laborers, splendid orators, capable
organizers, profound students of politics and political economy,
statesmen and masterly politicians. Nature, which knows no limit to
her capacity for the creation of new varieties, and, dealing with
hundreds of millions, has in numerable elements to mingle in her
combinations, has turned out some marvelous leaders among these poor
men. Their hard fortunes have driven out of their minds all
illusions, all imagination, all poetry; and in solemn fashion they
have bent themselves to the grim and silent struggle with their
environment. Without imagination, I say, for this seems to me to be a
world without a song.
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