THE COUNTER

The rebel, whose estimable qualities were once among those of the past, when the majority, as prophets of blind ideals, enthusiastic for petty-royal trophies of interest, turned aside from their path, and, as an example of trials, withdrew like a hermit into the echoing rocky crags of a mountain. And became rather a Heresias, or even a wise herald, who could only honour humanity, and morality nourished by the heart, putting to shame all the minions of the colonel.

Conscientious scribes are then the uncomfortable prisoners of the given Order: words spoken frankly, actions urging questions and answers, all sink into the mire in disgrace. It is in vain for them to be worthy of a single honourable, friendly word from the backbone of the position. And the self-respecting witnesses are soon indecently despised by this slyly flattering Age!

Oh, human foolish credulity, who has already made frivolous instruction an example of your own, thus attaching to your own corruptible merits the chain of resigned servitude, and trampling out with such useless ease so many minds that want to act, a donkey-ladder career ready to unfold, that your teaching is more a wasted gain than of real value!

Nor do I see my prophetical, wise words, who will listen, or read them in the gloomy watch of the night, when the hope that is about to be, seems to be dwindling like a desolation?! - If the eternal rebel, who receives his due, and yet does not keep silence in the face of stubbornness, and perseveres to preserve his own witness, may win the altar of hearts as a redemption worthy of his esteem! 

- He who speaks the truth and echoes the walls of this hurrying Time, why should he hide?! Who can be manipulated, who today can be trampled underfoot if one does not pay enough attention!