can govern. In his egoism he dubs him holy; his family is of a
selected blood; he makes the crown hereditary--Ego. Son by son the
shame of egoism increases; valour abates; hereditary Crown, no
hereditary qualities. The Barons rise. They in turn hold sway, and
for their order--Ego. The traders overturn them: each class rides
the classes under it while it can. It is ego--ego, the fountain
cry, origin, sole source of war! Then death to ego, I say! If
those traders had ruled for other than ego, power might have rested
with them on broad basis enough to carry us forward for centuries.
The workmen have ever been too anxious to be ruled. Now comes on
the workman's era. Numbers win in the end: proof of small wisdom in
the world. Anyhow, with numbers there is rough nature's wisdom and
justice. With numbers ego is inter-dependent and dispersed; it is
universalized. Yet these may require correctives. If so, they will
have it in a series of despots and revolutions that toss, mix, and
bind the classes together: despots, revolutions; panting
alternations of the quickened heart of humanity."

'Marked by our friend Nevil in notes of admiration.'

'Mad as the writer,' groaned Colonel Halkett. 'Never in my life have I
heard such stuff.'

'Stay, colonel; here's Shrapnel defending Morality and Society,' said
Captain Baskelett.

Colonel Halkett vowed he was under no penal law to listen, and would not;
but Captain Baskelett persuaded him: 'Yes, here it is: I give you my
word. Apparently old Nevil has been standing up for every man's right to
run away with . . . Yes, really! I give you my word; and here we have