impossible for them to conform to the new law when it is first
proclaimed by the god, and so they are always struggling to keep up.
Their chains are never lifted or lightened a particle."

"If the chain is so heavy why don't they break it?" I asked impatiently.

"Because they are afraid," she replied.

"Afraid of the god?"

"No, no, child, they are afraid of each other. They are afraid the
richer slaves, who are able to comply with the demands will laugh at
them and ridicule them, and that is why they strain every nerve to
follow the god's wishes. A slave, whether she is rich or poor, grows
more cringing year by year, until at last she loses all her
individuality, and becomes a mere echo of the god."

"What about the slaves who rebel at first and afterward yield?"

"Oh, they denounce the god very severely when he lays down some new law
they don't happen to like, but as all the other slaves are obediently
complying with it they dislike to be set off by themselves as
different, and so they reluctantly give in after a time. Sometimes
they try to compromise with the god by going half-way."

I inquired what the other slaves thought of that.

"They mildly tolerate them," said she. "Sometimes they look askance at
them when they meet, and try to show their superiority as being
obedient, full-blooded, genuine slaves, while the others are only