Constitution of a Society; the only Code, though an unwritten one which it can in nowise disobey.  The thing we call written Code, Constitution, Form of Government, and the like, what is it but some miniature image, and solemnly expressed summary of this unwritten Code?  Is,—­or rather alas, is not; but only should be, and always tends to be!  In which latter discrepancy lies struggle without end.’  And now, we add in the same dialect, let but, by ill chance, in such ever-enduring struggle,—­your ‘thin Earth-rind’ be once broken!  The fountains of the great deep boil forth; fire-fountains, enveloping, engulfing.  Your ‘Earth-rind’ is shattered, swallowed up; instead of a green flowery world, there is a waste wild-weltering chaos:—­which has again, with tumult and struggle, to make itself into a world.

On the other hand, be this conceded:  Where thou findest a Lie that is oppressing thee, extinguish it.  Lies exist there only to be extinguished; they wait and cry earnestly for extinction.  Think well, meanwhile, in what spirit thou wilt do it:  not with hatred, with headlong selfish violence; but in clearness of heart, with holy zeal, gently, almost with pity.  Thou wouldst not replace such extinct Lie by a new Lie, which a new Injustice of thy own were; the parent of still other Lies?  Whereby the latter end of that business were worse than the beginning.

So, however, in this world of ours, which has both an indestructible hope in the Future, and an indestructible tendency to persevere as in the Past, must Innovation and Conservation wage their perpetual conflict, as they may and can.  Wherein the ‘daemonic element,’ that lurks in all human things, may doubtless, some once in the thousand years—­get vent!  But indeed may we not regret that such conflict,—­which, after all, is but like that classical one of ‘hate-filled Amazons with heroic Youths,’ and will end in embraces,—­should usually be so spasmodic?  For Conservation, strengthened by that mightiest quality in us, our indolence, sits for long ages, not victorious only, which she should be; but tyrannical, incommunicative.  She holds her adversary as if annihilated; such adversary lying, all the while, like some buried Enceladus; who, to gain the smallest freedom, must stir a whole Trinacria with it Aetnas.

Wherefore, on the whole, we will honour a Paper Age too; an Era of hope!  For in this same frightful process of Enceladus Revolt; when the task, on which no mortal would willingly enter, has become imperative, inevitable,—­is it not even a kindness of Nature that she lures us forward by cheerful promises, fallacious or not; and a whole generation plunges into the Erebus Blackness, lighted on by an Era of Hope?  It has been well said:  ’Man is based on Hope; he has properly no other possession but Hope; this habitation of his is named the Place of Hope.’

Chapter 1.2.IV.

Maurepas.