Look where you will, in every high place there sits
an Ass, settled beyond the reach of all the greatest intellects in
this world to pull him down. Over our whole social system, complacent
Imbecility rules supreme--snuffs out the searching light of Intelligence
with total impunity--and hoots, owl-like, in answer to every form of
protest, See how well we all do in the dark! One of these days that
audacious assertion will be practically contradicted, and the whole
rotten system of modern society will come down with a crash."
"God forbid!" cried Mr. Vanstone, looking about him as if the crash was
coming already.
"With a crash!" repeated Mr. Clare. "There is my theory, in few words.
Now for the remarkable application of it which this letter suggests.
Here is my lout of a boy--"
"You don't mean that Frank has got another chance?" exclaimed Mr.
Vanstone.
"Here is this perfectly hopeless booby, Frank," pursued the philosopher.
"He has never done anything in his life to help himself, and, as a
necessary consequence, Society is in a conspiracy to carry him to the
top of the tree. He has hardly had time to throw away that chance you
gave him before this letter comes, and puts the ball at his foot for the
second time.
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