They were a heaving, surging sea of
creatures, slowly, without consciousness or real guidance, rising in
long tidal movements to set the limits of the shore a little farther
back, and cast afresh the form of social life; and on its pea-green
bosom '" Mr. Stone paused. "She has copied it wrong," he said; "the
word is 'seagreen.' 'And on its sea-green bosom sailed a fleet of silver
cockle-shells, wafted by the breath of those not in themselves driven by
the wind of need. The voyage of these silver cockle-shells, all heading
across each other's bows, was, in fact, the advanced movement of that
time. In the stern of each of these little craft, blowing at the sails,
was seated a by-product of the accepted system. These by-products we
should now examine."
Mr. Stone paused, and looked into his cup. There were some grounds in
it. He drank them, and went on:
"'The fratricidal principle of the survival of the fittest, which in
those days was England's moral teaching, had made the country one huge
butcher's shop. Amongst the carcasses of countless victims there had
fattened and grown purple many butchers, physically strengthened by the
smell of blood and sawdust. These had begotten many children. Following
out the laws of Nature providing against surfeit, a proportion of these
children were born with a feeling of distaste for blood and sawdust;
many of them, compelled for the purpose of making money to follow in
their fathers' practices, did so unwillingly; some, thanks to their
fathers' butchery, were in a position to abstain from practising; but
whether in practice or at leisure, distaste for the scent of blood
and sawdust was the common feature that distinguished them.
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