C. Wal monologue (Act 2) — The Saint's Tragedy

[alone] Well:--if Hugo is a brute, he at least makes no secret of it. He is an old boar, and honest; he wears his tushes outside, for a warning to all men. But for the rest!--Whited sepulchres! and not one of them but has half persuaded himself of his own benevolence. Of all cruelties, save me from your small pedant,--your closet philosopher, who has just courage enough to bestride his theory, without wit to see whither it will carry him. In experience, a child: in obstinacy, a woman: in nothing a man, but in logic-chopping: instead of God's grace, a few schoolboy saws about benevolence, and industry, and independence--there is his metal. If the world will be mended on his principles, well. If not, poor world!--but principles must be carried out, though through blood and famine: for truly, man was made for theories, not theories for man. A doctrine is these men's God--touch but that shrine, and lo! your simpering philanthropist becomes as ruthless as a Dominican. [Exit.]