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"
What
difference
does
that
make
?
"
"
All
the
difference
in
the
world
,
"
said
Mustapha
Mond
.
He
got
up
again
and
walked
to
the
safe
.
"
There
was
a
man
called
Cardinal
Newman
,
"
he
said
.
"
A
cardinal
,
"
he
exclaimed
parenthetically
,
"
was
a
kind
of
Arch
?
Community
-
Songster
.
"
"
’
I
Pandulph
,
of
fair
Milan
,
cardinal
.
’
I
’
ve
read
about
them
in
Shakespeare
.
"
"
Of
course
you
have
.
Well
,
as
I
was
saying
,
there
was
a
man
called
Cardinal
Newman
.
Ah
,
here
’
s
the
book
.
"
He
pulled
it
out
.
"
And
while
I
’
m
about
it
I
’
ll
take
this
one
too
.
It
’
s
by
a
man
called
Maine
de
Biran
.
He
was
a
philosopher
,
if
you
know
what
that
was
.
"
"
A
man
who
dreams
of
fewer
things
than
there
are
in
heaven
and
earth
,
"
said
the
Savage
promptly
.
"
Quite
so
.
I
’
ll
read
you
one
of
the
things
he
did
dream
of
in
a
moment
.
Meanwhile
,
listen
to
what
this
old
Arch
?
Community
-
Songster
said
.
"
He
opened
the
book
at
the
place
marked
by
a
slip
of
paper
and
began
to
read
.
"
’
We
are
not
our
own
any
more
than
what
we
possess
is
our
own
.
We
did
not
make
ourselves
,
we
cannot
be
supreme
over
ourselves
.
We
are
not
our
own
masters
.
We
are
God
’
s
property
.
Is
it
not
our
happiness
thus
to
view
the
matter
?
Is
it
any
happiness
or
any
comfort
,
to
consider
that
we
are
our
own
?
It
may
be
thought
so
by
the
young
and
prosperous
.
These
may
think
it
a
great
thing
to
have
everything
,
as
they
suppose
,
their
own
way
–
to
depend
on
no
one
–
to
have
to
think
of
nothing
out
of
sight
,
to
be
without
the
irksomeness
of
continual
acknowledgment
,
continual
prayer
,
continual
reference
of
what
they
do
to
the
will
of
another
.
But
as
time
goes
on
,
they
,
as
all
men
,
will
find
that
independence
was
not
made
for
man
–
that
it
is
an
unnatural
state
–
will
do
for
a
while
,
but
will
not
carry
us
on
safely
to
the
end
.
.
.
’
"
Mustapha
Mond
paused
,
put
down
the
first
book
and
,
picking
up
the
other
,
turned
over
the
pages
.
"
Take
this
,
for
example
,
"
he
said
,
and
in
his
deep
voice
once
more
began
to
read
:
"
’
A
man
grows
old
;
he
feels
in
himself
that
radical
sense
of
weakness
,
of
listlessness
,
of
discomfort
,
which
accompanies
the
advance
of
age
;
and
,
feeling
thus
,
imagines
himself
merely
sick
,
lulling
his
fears
with
the
notion
that
this
distressing
condition
is
due
to
some
particular
cause
,
from
which
,
as
from
an
illness
,
he
hopes
to
recover
.
Vain
imaginings
!
That
sickness
is
old
age
;
and
a
horrible
disease
it
is
.
They
say
that
it
is
the
fear
of
death
and
of
what
comes
after
death
that
makes
men
turn
to
religion
as
they
advance
in
years
.
But
my
own
experience
has
given
me
the
conviction
that
,
quite
apart
from
any
such
terrors
or
imaginings
,
the
religious
sentiment
tends
to
develop
as
we
grow
older
;
to
develop
because
,
as
the
passions
grow
calm
,
as
the
fancy
and
sensibilities
are
less
excited
and
less
excitable
,
our
reason
becomes
less
troubled
in
its
working
,
less
obscured
by
the
images
,
desires
and
distractions
,
in
which
it
used
to
be
absorbed
;
whereupon
God
emerges
as
from
behind
a
cloud
;
our
soul
feels
,
sees
,
turns
towards
the
source
of
all
light
;
turns
naturally
and
inevitably
;
for
now
that
all
that
gave
to
the
world
of
sensations
its
life
and
charms
has
begun
to
leak
away
from
us
,
now
that
phenomenal
existence
is
no
more
bolstered
up
by
impressions
from
within
or
from
without
,
we
feel
the
need
to
lean
on
something
that
abides
,
something
that
will
never
play
us
false
–
a
reality
,
an
absolute
and
everlasting
truth
.
Yes
,
we
inevitably
turn
to
God
;
for
this
religious
sentiment
is
of
its
nature
so
pure
,
so
delightful
to
the
soul
that
experiences
it
,
that
it
makes
up
to
us
for
all
our
other
losses
.
’
"
Mustapha
Mond
shut
the
book
and
leaned
back
in
his
chair
.
"
One
of
the
numerous
things
in
heaven
and
earth
that
these
philosophers
didn
’
t
dream
about
was
this
"
(
he
waved
his
hand
)
,
"
us
,
the
modern
world
.
’
You
can
only
be
independent
of
God
while
you
’
ve
got
youth
and
prosperity
;
independence
won
’
t
take
you
safely
to
the
end
.
’
Well
,
we
’
ve
now
got
youth
and
prosperity
right
up
to
the
end
.
What
follows
?
Evidently
,
that
we
can
be
independent
of
God
.
’
The
religious
sentiment
will
compensate
us
for
all
our
losses
.
’
But
there
aren
’
t
any
losses
for
us
to
compensate
;
religious
sentiment
is
superfluous
.
And
why
should
we
go
hunting
for
a
substitute
for
youthful
desires
,
when
youthful
desires
never
fail
?
A
substitute
for
distractions
,
when
we
go
on
enjoying
all
the
old
fooleries
to
the
very
last
?
What
need
have
we
of
repose
when
our
minds
and
bodies
continue
to
delight
in
activity
?
of
consolation
,
when
we
have
soma
?
of
something
immovable
,
when
there
is
the
social
order
?
"
"
Then
you
think
there
is
no
God
?
"
