You were to go to the offices of the Haven of Philanthropy, and put your name down as a Member and a Professing Philanthropist. Above all things, you were to do nothing in private, or on your own account. You were to love your brother as yourself, but after an indefinite interval of maligning him (very much as if you hated him), and calling him all manner of names. You were to have universal concord, and were to get it by eliminating all the people who wouldn’t, or conscientiously couldn’t, be concordant. You were to have no capital punishment, but were first to sweep off the face of the earth all legislators, jurists, and judges, who were of the contrary opinion. You were to abolish war, but were to make converts by making war upon them, and charging them with loving war as the apple of their eye.
#Edwin drood trial#
You were to abolish military force, but you were first to bring all commanding officers who had done their duty, to trial by court-martial for that offence, and shoot them. Though it was not literally true, as was facetiously charged against him by public unbelievers, that he called aloud to his fellow-creatures: ‘Curse your souls and bodies, come here and be blessed!’ still his philanthropy was of that gunpowderous sort that the difference between it and animosity was hard to determine. Honeythunder expanded into an inflammatory Wen in Minor Canon Corner.
Always something in the nature of a Boil upon the face of society, Mr. Crisparkle had need of her own share of philanthropy when she beheld this very large and very loud excrescence on the little party.
0 kommentar(er)
