Uncle Abner
"Mansfield," cried Randolph, "how do you do?"
"I still live," replied the old man, "but at any hour I may be ejected out of life."
"We all live, Mansfield," said my uncle, "as long as God wills."
"Now, Abner," cried the old man, "you repeat the jargon of the churches. The will of man is the only power in the universe, so far as we can find out, that is able to direct the movings of events. Nothing else that exists can make the most trivial thing happen or cease to happen. No imagined god or demon in all the history of the race has ever influenced the order of events as much as the feeblest human creature in an hour of life. Sit down, Abner, and let me tell you the truth before I cease to exist, as the beasts of the field cease."
He indicated the great carved oak chairs about him, and the two visitors sat down.
Randolph loved the vanities of argument, and he thrust in:
"I am afraid, Mansfield," he said, "you will never enjoy the pleasures of Paradise."
The old man made a contemptuous gesture.
"Pleasure, Randolph," he said, "is the happiness of little men; big men are after something more. They are after the satisfaction that comes from directing events. This is the only happiness: to crush out every other authority—to be the one dominating authority—to make events take the avenue one likes.
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