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I answer： No。 Look back at the origin of human States。 From the
beginnings of things； the best man has been the unconscious medium of
authority； of the controlling principle； of the divine force； he felt
that power within himphysical； at firsthe used it to take the
lead； he has held the lead ever since； he must always hold it。 All
your processes of election； your so…called democratic apparatus； are
only a blind to the inquiring； a sop to the hungry； a salve to the
pride of the rebellious。 They are merely surface machinery； they
cannot prevent the best man from coming to the top； for the best man
stands nearest to the Deity； and is the first to receive the waves
that come from Him。 I'm not speaking of heredity。 The best man is
not necessarily born in my class； and I； at all events； do not
believe he is any more frequent there than in other classes。〃
He stopped as suddenly as he had begun。
〃You needn't be afraid；〃 answered Courtier； 〃that I take you for an
average specimen。 You're at one end； and I at the other； and we
probably both miss the golden mark。 But the world is not ruled by
power； and the fear which power produces； as you think； it's ruled by
love。 Society is held together by the natural decency in man； by
fellow…feeling。 The democratic principle； which you despise； at root
means nothing at all but that。 Man left to himself is on the upward
lay。 If it weren't so； do you imagine for a moment your 'boys in
blue' could keep order？ A man knows unconsciously what he can and
what he can't do； without losing his self…respect。 He sucks that
knowledge in with every breath。 Laws and authority are not the be…
all and end…all； they are conveniences； machinery； conduit pipes；
main roads。 They're not of the structure of the buildingthey're
only scaffolding。〃
Miltoun lunged out with the retort
〃Without which no building could be built。〃
Courtier parried。
〃That's rather different； my friend； from identifying them with the
building。 They are things to be taken down as fast as ever they can
be cleared away； to make room for an edifice that begins on earth；
not in the sky。 All the scaffolding of law is merely there to save
time； to prevent the temple； as it mounts； from losing its way； and
straying out of form。〃
〃No；〃 said Miltoun； 〃no！ The scaffolding； as you call it； is the
material projection of the architect's conception； without which the
temple does not and cannot rise； and the architect is God； working
through the minds and spirits most akin to Himself。〃
〃We are now at the bed…rock；〃 cried Courtier； 〃your God is outside
this world。 Mine within it。〃
〃And never the twain shall meet！〃
In the silence that followed Miltoun saw that they were in Leicester
Square； all quiet as yet before the theatres had disgorged； quiet yet
waiting； with the lights； like yellow stars low…driven from the dark
heavens； clinging to the white shapes of music…halls and cafes； and a
sort of flying glamour blanching the still foliage of the plane
trees。
〃A 'whitely wanton'this Square！〃 said Courtier： 〃Alive as a face；
no end to its queer beauty！ And； by Jove； if you went deep enough；
you'd find goodness even here。〃
〃And you'd ignore the vice；〃 Miltoun answered。
He felt weary all of a sudden； anxious to get to his rooms； unwilling
to continue this battle of words； that brought him no nearer to
relief。 It was with strange lassitude that he heard the voice still
speaking：
〃We must make a night of it； since to…morrow we die。。。。 You would
curb licence from withoutI from within。 When I get up and when I
go to bed； when I draw a breath； see a face； or a flower； or a tree
if I didn't feel that I was looking on the Deity； I believe I should
quit this palace of varieties； from sheer boredom。 You； I
understand； can't look on your God； unless you withdraw into some
high place。 Isn't it a bit lonely there？〃
〃There are worse things than loneliness。〃 And they walked on； in
silence； till suddenly Miltoun broke out：
〃You talk of tyranny！ What tyranny could equal this tyranny of your
freedom？ What tyranny in the world like that of this 'free' vulgar；
narrow street； with its hundred journals teeming like ants' nests； to
produce…what？ In the entrails of that creature of your freedom；
Courtier； there is room neither for exaltation； discipline； nor
sacrifice； there is room only for commerce； and licence。〃
There was no answer for a moment； and from those tall houses； whose
lighted windows he had apostrophized； Miltoun turned away towards the
river。 〃No；〃 said the voice beside him； 〃for all its faults； the
wind blows in that street； and there's a chance for everything。 By
God； I would rather see a few stars struggle out in a black sky than
any of your perfect artificial lighting。〃
And suddenly it seemed to Miltoun that he could never free himself
from the echoes of that voiceit was not worth while to try。 〃We
are repeating ourselves；〃 he said； dryly。
The river's black water was making stilly； slow recessional under a
half…moon。 Beneath the cloak of night the chaos on the far bank； the
forms of cranes； high buildings； jetties； the bodies of the sleeping
barges； amillion queer dark shapes； were invested with emotion。
All was religious out there； all beautiful； all strange。 And over
this great quiet friend of man； lampsthose humble flowers of night；
were throwing down the faint continual glamour of fallen petals； and
a sweet…scented wind stole along from the West； very slow as yet；
bringing in advance the tremor and perfume of the innumerable trees
and fields which the river had loved as she came by。
A murmur that was no true sound； but like the whisper of a heart to。
a heart； accompanied this voyage of the dark water。
Then a small blunt skiffmanned by two rowers came by under the
wall； with the thudding and the creak of oars。
〃So 'To…morrow we die'？〃 said Miltoun ： 〃You mean； I suppose； that
'public life' is the breath of my nostrils； and I must die； because I
give it up？〃
Courtier nodded。
〃Am I right in thinking that it was my young sister who sent you on
this crusade？〃
Courtier did not answer。
〃And so；〃 Miltoun went on； looking him through and through；
〃to…morrow is to be your last day； too？ Well； you're right to go。
She is not an ugly duckling； who can live out of the social pond；
she'll always want her native element。 And now； we'll say goodbye！
Whatever happens to us both； I shall remember this evening。〃
Smiling； he put out his hand 'Moriturus te saluto。'
CHAPTER XXIII
Courtier sat in Hyde Park waiting for five o'clock。 The day had
recovered somewhat from a grey morning； as though the glow of that
long hot summer were too burnt…in on the air to yield to the first
assault。 The sun； piercing the crisped clouds； those breast feathers
of heavenly doves； darted its beams at the mellowed leaves； and
showered to the ground their delicate shadow stains。 The first； too
early； scent from leaves about to fall； penetrated to the heart。 And
sorrowful sweet birds were tuning their little autumn pipes； blowing
into them fragments of Spring odes to Liberty。
Courtier thought of Mil