moment, and will be forgotten before one or two generations pass away; the most solid and most magnificent buildings and monuments will crumble into dust after a few thousand years; the most beautiful paintings and statues often meet that fate in a few centuries. Whatever we may undertake, all is doomed to complete destruction.”
At these words the archbishop arose; and turning half toward my friend, half toward the assembly, he said in a pleasing, sonorous voice,—
“I beg pardon for interrupting. I do not know what the speaker is aiming at, and I shall not criticise him therefor; but we, the clergy, have had to listen to words that are, to use the mildest expression, intolerable. It is true they were set forth in the garb of sarcasm or humor, and based on grounds seemingly scientific; but their essence does not agree with our views. If, therefore, our honored host means to proceed in the discourse which is apparently indispensable to his later experiment, then I ask him to avoid questions the solution of which is not in the power of man.”
The archbishop sat down; but it seemed as though his words failed to make the impression on the assembly that he desired. All eyes were fastened upon my friend, who, standing behind his desk, listened with stoical calmness to the archbishop’s words, and then answered as pleasantly and politely as he had been addressed,—
“I too beg to be excused for deviating from the subject of my lecture in making a reply. I take the liberty to assure his Eminence that I did not and do not intend to attempt a solution of religious problems, and it was not without purpose that I did not touch upon philosophy,—the scientific opponent of religion. The object of my discourse will first be plainly seen after my final experiment. For this reason I ask your indulgence.”
“Good!” was shouted in many parts of the hall.
“Go on!” urged the artists and savants, simultaneously; and my friend proceeded,—
“We boast of the progress of science, forgetting that all its achievements are employed to serve bad as well as good ends. The printing-press — said to be the greatest benefactor of mankind—
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