The Sorrows of Satan: or, The Strange Experience of One Geoffrey Tempest, Millionaire: A Romance — John Stuart Mill — John Shaqi
The Sorrows of Satan: or, The Strange Experience of One Geoffrey Tempest, Millionaire: A Romance
John Stuart Mill · en
Outside, the prince's carriage waited, drawn by two spirited black
horses caparisoned in silver; magnificent thoroughbreds, which pawed the
ground and champed their bits impatient of delay,--at sight of his
master the smart footman in attendance threw the door open, touching his
hat respectfully. We stepped in, I preceding my companion at his
expressed desire; and as I sank back among the easy cushions, I felt the
complacent consciousness of luxury and power to such an extent that it
seemed as if I had left my days of adversity already a long way behind
me. Hunger and happiness disputed my sensations between them, and I was
in that vague light-headed condition common to long fasting, in which
nothing seems absolutely tangible or real. I knew I should not properly
grasp the solid truth of my wonderful good luck till my physical needs
were satisfied and I was, so to speak, once more in a naturally balanced
bodily condition. At present my brain was in a whirl,--my thoughts were
all dim and disconnected,--and I appeared to myself to be in some
whimsical dream from which I should wake up directly. The carriage
rolled on rubber-tyred wheels and made no noise as it went,--one could
only hear the even rapid trot of the horses. By-and-by I saw in the
semi-darkness my new friend's brilliant dark eyes fixed upon me with a
curiously intent expression.
"Do you not feel the world already at your feet?" he queried half
playfully, half ironically--"Like a football, waiting to be kicked? It
is such an absurd world, you know--so easily moved. Wise men in all ages
have done their best to make it less ridiculous,--with no result,
inasmuch as it continues to prefer folly to wisdom. A football, or let
us say a shuttlecock among worlds, ready to be tossed up anyhow and
anywhere, provided the battledore be of gold!"
"You speak a trifle bitterly, prince"--I said--"But no doubt you have
had a wide experience among men?"
"I have," he returned with emphasis--"My kingdom is a vast one."
"You are a ruling power then?" I exclaimed with some
astonishment--"Yours is not a title of honour only?"
"Oh, as your rules of aristocracy go, it _is_ a mere title of
honour"--he replied quickly--"When I say that my kingdom is a vast one,
I mean that I rule wherever men obey the influence of wealth. From this
point of view, am I wrong in calling my kingdom vast?--is it not almost
boundless?"
"I perceive you are a cynic,"--I said--"Yet surely you believe that
there are some things wealth cannot buy,--honour and virtue for
example?"
He surveyed me with a whimsical smile.