Chapters (31)
- Cover
- I. The Advertisement
- II. The Karburator
- III. Pantheism
- IV. God in the Cellar
- V. Bishop Linda
- VI. The Board-Meeting
- VII. Developments
- VIII. The Dredge
- IX. The Ceremony
- X. Saint Ellen
- XI. The First Blow Struck
- XII. Doctor Blahous
- XIII. The Chronicler’s Apology
- XIV. The Land of Plenty
- XV. Disaster
- XVI. In the Mountains
- XVII. The Hammer and Star
- XVIII. In the Night Editor’s Room
- XIX. The Process of Canonization
- XX. St. Kilda
- XXI. The Telegram
- XXII. The Old Patriot
- XXIII. The Augsburg Imbroglio
- XXIV. The Napoleon of the Mountain Brigade
- XXV. The So-Called Greatest War
- XXVI. The Battle of Hradec Kralove
- XXVII. A Coral Island in the Pacific
- XXVIII. At Seven Cottages
- XXIX. The Last Battle
- XXX. The End of Everything
But how am I to describe the frightful, silent struggle which forced iron to raise itself from the depths of the earth, which pressed it into bars, threw these into the machines, and smashed them up into tacks? The bars twisted like withies, fought against the motion that pushed them forward, rattled and grated amid the silence of that which wrestled with them, soundless and substanceless. All contemporary reports speak of the horror of the scene. It was a very miracle, but do not imagine that a miracle is something fabulously easy and effortless; it rather seems that the performance of a genuine miracle entails intense and exhausting exertions. But though the labours of the Absolute might make a great call upon its powers, the most astounding thing about its new activities was the copiousness of its output. Thus, to keep to the department already mentioned, the one solitary tack factory which the Absolute had in its power poured forth night and day so many tacks that they were piled up in mountains in the yard, and eventually broke down the fences and blocked up the street.
Let us stick to this instance of the tacks for the time being. It shows you the whole nature of the Absolute, just as inexhaustible and extravagant as it was at the time of the Creation. Once it had thrown itself into production, it did not trouble about distribution, consumption, market, or ultimate object; it did not trouble about anything: it simply devoted its gigantic energy to pouring forth tacks. Being itself infinite in essence, it knew neither measure nor limitation in anything, even in the matter of tacks.
You can well imagine how the workmen in such a factory were startled by the performances of the new motive power. For them it was a case of wholly unexpected and unfair competition, something that made their labour altogether superfluous; and they would quite rightly have protected themselves against this assault of the capitalism of the Manchester School on the working classes by at least demolishing the factory and hanging its proprietors, if the Absolute had not surprised and overpowered them by its first method of attack, religious illumination of every form and degree. Meantime they experienced levitations, prophecies, miracle-working, visions, supernatural cures, sanctification, love for their neighbours, and other conditions equally unnatural, not to say miraculous.