Austria -- Fiction; Devil -- Fiction; Middle Ages -- Fiction
“Oh, it’s true. I know your race. It is made up of sheep. It is
governed by minorities, seldom or never by majorities. It suppresses
its feelings and its beliefs and follows the handful that makes the
most noise. Sometimes the noisy handful is right, sometimes wrong;
but no matter, the crowd follows it. The vast majority of the race,
whether savage or civilized, are secretly kind-hearted and shrink
from inflicting pain, but in the presence of the aggressive and
pitiless minority they don’t dare to assert themselves. Think of it!
One kind-hearted creature spies upon another, and sees to it that
he loyally helps in iniquities which revolt both of them. Speaking
as an expert, I know that ninety-nine out of a hundred of your race
were strongly against the killing of witches when that foolishness
was first agitated by a handful of pious lunatics in the long ago.
And I know that even to-day, after ages of transmitted prejudice and
silly teaching, only one person in twenty puts any real heart into the
harrying of a witch. And yet apparently everybody hates witches and
wants them killed. Some day a handful will rise up on the other side
and make the most noise--perhaps even a single daring man with a big
voice and a determined front will do it--and in a week all the sheep
will wheel and follow him, and witch-hunting will come to a sudden end.
“Monarchies, aristocracies, and religions are all based upon that large
defect in your race--the individual’s distrust of his neighbor, and his
desire, for safety’s or comfort’s sake, to stand well in his neighbor’s
eye. These institutions will always remain, and always flourish, and
always oppress you, affront you, and degrade you, because you will
always be and remain slaves of minorities. There was never a country
where the majority of the people were in their secret hearts loyal to
any of these institutions.”
I did not like to hear our race called sheep, and said I did not think
they were.
“Still, it is true, lamb,” said Satan. “Look at you in war--what mutton
you are, and how ridiculous!”
“In war? How?”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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