le attack on the doctrine of
progress as commonly understood by social reformers. He had given us,
as it were, the first notes of the Negative. But Audubon, I knew,
would play the tune through to the end; and I thought we might as well
have it all, and have it before it should be too late for the possible
correctives of other speakers. Audubon was engaged in some occupation
in the city, and how he came to be a member of our society I cannot
tell; for he professed an uncompromising aversion to all speculation.
He was, however, a regular attendant and spoke well, though always in
the sense that there was nothing worth speaking about. On this
occasion he displayed, as usual, some reluctance to get on to his feet;
and even when he was overruled began, characteristically, with a
protest.

"I don't see why it should be a rule that everybody must speak. I
believe I have said something of the kind before"--but here he was
interrupted by a general exclamation that he had said it much too
often; whereupon he dropped the subject, but maintained his tone of
protest. "You don't understand," he went on, "what a difficult
position I am in, especially in a discussion of this kind. My
standpoint is radically different from that of the rest of you; and
anything I say is bound to be out of key. You're all playing what you
think to be the game of life, and playing it willingly. But I play
only under compulsion; if you call it playing, when one is hounded out
to field in all weathers without ever having a chance of an innings.
Or, rather, the game's more like tennis than cricket, and we're the
little boys who pick up the balls--and that, in my opinion, is a damned
humiliating occupation. And surely you must all really think so too!
Of course, you don't like to admit it. Nobody does. In the pulpit, in
the press, in conversation, even, there's a conspiracy of silence and
bluff. It's only in rare moments, when a few men get together in the
smoking-room, that the truth comes out. But when it does come out it's
always the same refrain, 'cui bono, cui bono?' I don't take much
account of myself; but, if there is one thing of which I am proud, it
is that I have never let myself be duped. From the earliest days I can
remember I realized what the nature of this world really is. And all
experience has confirmed that first intuition. That other people don't
seem to have it, too, is a source of constant amazement to me. But
really, a