spared? or that loving and beautiful young couple, just on the brink of
life and happiness, and now sent to eternity together by such a fearful
road, into the mouth of hell when they had thought themselves before the
open gate of Paradise? What had that unhappy mother done? or all these
old and young men and women, in full health and spirits, enjoying life
and happiness, surrounded by happy relatives, full of happy plans and
hopes? What had they done to deserve this fate, those poor servants of
the public convenience, the guards, the engineer, and the other
officials, who could have saved their own lives easily, and in good
time, if they had abandoned their fatal posts, and had not preferred to
die in doing their duty? Why had not these been saved for the sake of
their wives and children, now widows and orphans, abandoned to the
charities of a merciless world? Who and where is that awful Deity into
whose altar-fire that conjuring Jew had spat, because He would not
listen to his invocations? What dreadful Power is it which has pushed
down that rock-colossus to destroy so many human lives? Is it the Czrny
Bog of the Samaritans, the Lord of Darkness and Doer of Mischief, whose
might is great in harm, whose joy is human despair, and who is adored
with oaths and curses?

But if such a power exists--if there is a Czrny Bog, indeed--then his
deeds are befitting his name--dark and black. But why should I, who am
human myself, and have a heart for my brethren and a sense of their
wrongs, why should I in this fatal instant, although full of pity and
commiseration, yet inwardly rejoice that this misfortune has fallen upon
others and not upon me? Why should I feel that although others have
perished, all is well as long as I am safe?

Is this not shameful? Is it not an everlasting stain and disgrace upon
my inner self? What right have I to think myself the chosen ward of some