Manchurian Books

"How
beautiful are the fields of waving grain; their color of dawn softened
by the deep green of interspersed vineyards, and the water without a
ripple, like a slumbering lake rather than a strong river. It seems as
though anger, contention, and struggle could not exist in a realm so
heavenly."
"'Seems' is the word to use," commented the Archbishop gravely, "but the
unbroken placidity of the river you so much admire is a peace of defeat.
I had much rather see its flood disturbed by moving barges and the
turmoil of commerce. It is a peace that means starvation and death to
our capital city, and, indeed, in a lesser degree, to my own town of
Cologne, and to Coblentz, whose gates we are approaching."
"But surely," persisted the girl, "the outlook is improving, when you
and I travel unmolested with a mere handful of men to guard us. Time was
when a great and wealthy Archbishop might not stir abroad with less than
a thousand men in his train."
The Archbishop smiled.
"I suppose matters mend," he said, "as we progress in civilized usage.


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