not equal, their very
inequality proves it. Some must rule and some be ruled; for some life
must be pleasanter and more full of meaning than it is for others; some
men must be strong and some weak, just as some women are beautiful and
some ugly. It is not their fault; it is their misfortune, and they
suffer for it. Which brings me to the principal objection I have to your
proposal. It is this: I believe that we shall find it a mere waste of
time to invite the nations of the world to sign a treaty for complete
disarmament; they distrust each other, and that distrust has proved too
often to be well-founded. The long centuries have made them jealous,
sullen, watchful. There is only one motive which can make them
sign--fear--fear of what may happen if they do not!"

"I have already said," remarked Vard, "that I am ready to apply
compulsion, should it be necessary."

"But you are finite," Pachmann objected, gently. "You are but an
individual, whose life may end at any moment; while, as you yourself
have said, this plan of yours will take long years, generations perhaps,
to consummate. To perfect it will test the best intellects of the world.
Once begun, it must be carried through. Do you think it wise to imperil
its success by making it depend so largely on yourself? Besides, what
would be easier than for an unwilling nation to suppress you? A
pistol-shot, a blow with a knife, and the brotherhood of man tumbles to
pieces."

"What is it you propose?" asked Vard, who had listened to all this with
growing impatience.

"I propose that, instead of so great a task being assumed by an
individual, it be assumed by an entire nation, which shall pledge its
honour to carry it to success."

"And this nation," said Vard, sarcastically, "should, of course, in your
opinion, be Germany."

"I admit," replied Pachmann, with dignity, "that I consider Germany
best-fitted to carry out the plan. I think you will agree with me that,
if a single nation is to undertake it, it must be one of the five great
nations. In world-politics, the others are negligible. Well, let us see.
France, a nation of peacocks, excitable, impressionable, easily angered,
making much of trifles, jealous of their dignity, a dying nation which
grows smaller and weaker every year. England, also a degenerate nation,
soaked in gin, where a hundred thousand men are unemployed, and where no
better remedy for pauperism can be found than universal pensions, which
only make