She confided in us her views on a theme vaguely occupying at the
moment, I suppose, all our minds. "We have barbarous institutions, and
so must put up, I suppose, with a never-ending procession of fools--of
fools _ad infinitum_. Marriage, Mr. Withers, was instituted in the
privacy of a garden; _sub rosa_, as it were. Civilization flaunts it in
the glare of day. The dull marry the poor; the rich the effete; and so
our New Jerusalem is peopled with naturals, plain and coloured, at
either end. I detest folly; I detest still more (if I must be frank,
dear Arthur) mere cleverness. Mankind has simply become a tailless host
of uninstinctive animals. We should never have taken to Evolution, Mr.
Withers. 'Natural Selection!'--little gods and fishes!--the deaf for
the dumb. We should have used our brains--intellectual pride, the
ecclesiastics call it. And by brains I mean--what do I mean, Alice?--I
mean, my dear child," and she laid two gross fingers on Alice's narrow
sleeve. "I mean courage. Consider it, Arthur. I read that the
scientific world is once more beginning to be afraid of spiritual
agencies.
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