between the two. You see it's the same thing as in
trades and professions, as I told you yesterday. We encourage the
individual to be as individualistic as possible, and draw the
limits very widely, beyond which he mustn't go. But those limits
are imperative. We try to develop both extremes at once--liberty
and law. We had enough of the _via media_--the mediocrity of the
average--under Socialism."

"But do you mean to say that people submit to all this?"

"Submit! Why it's perfectly obvious to every one that it's simply
human--besides being very convenient practically. Of course in
Germany they still go in for what they call Liberty; and the
result is simple chaos."

"Do you mean to say there's no envy or jealousy between the trades?"

"Not in the social sense, in the very least, though there's
tremendous competition. Why, every one under Royalty has to be a
member of some trade. Of course only those who practise the trade
wear the full costume; but even the dukes have to wear the
badges. It's perfectly simple, you know."

"Tell me an English duke who's a butcher,"

"Butcher? . . . I can't think of one this minute. Southminster's
a baker, though."

Monsignor was silent. But it certainly seemed simple.

They were passing up now between the sentry-guarded gates of the
enormous and exquisite palace of Versailles; and, beyond the great
expanse of gravel on which they had just set foot, rose up the
myriad windows, pinnacles, and walls where the Kings of France
lived again as they had lived two hundred years before. Far up,
against the tender summer sky, flapped the Royal Standard; and the
lilies of France, once more on their blue ground, indicated that
the King was in residence. Even as they looked, however, the
banner seemed to waver a little; and simultaneously a sudden
ringing sound from a shadowed portico a couple of hundred yards
away brought Father Jervis to a sudden stop.

"We'd better step aside," he said. "We're right in the way."

"What's the matter?"

"Some one's coming out. . . . Look."

From out of the shadow into the full sunlight with a flash of
silver lightning whirled a body of cuirassiers, wheeled into
line, and came on, reforming as they came, at a canter.

A couple of heralds rode in front; and a long trumpet-cry
pealed out, was caught, echoed, and thrown back by the crowding
walls of the palace.

Behind, as Father Jervis drew him to one side, Monsignor caught
a glimpse of white horse