ow do you
propose to keep it in a state of equilibrium?"

Maraton smiled.

"There would have to be three, perhaps half-a-dozen--who can tell how
many?--redistributions by violent means," he replied, "but remember that
all this time, education, clean living, freedom from sordid anxieties,
would be telling upon the lower orders. As their physical condition
improved, so would their minds. As the conditions under which men live
become more equal, so will their brains become more equal and their
power of acquiring wealth. This, remember, may be the work of a hundred
years--perhaps more--but it is the end at which we should aim."

"You absolutely mean, then," Mr. Foley persisted, "to destroy the
welfare of the country for this generation and perhaps the next, in
order that a new people may arise, governed according to your methods,
in ages which neither you nor I nor any of us will ever see?"

"That is what I mean," Maraton assented. "Need I remind you that if we
had not possessed in the past men who gave their lives for the sake of
posterity, the nations of the world would be even in a more backward
condition than they are to-day?"

Mr. Foley smiled.

"Mr. Maraton," he said, "now I am going to ask you this question.
To-morrow you go to Manchester to pronounce your doctrines. To-morrow
you are going to incite the working people of England practically to
revolt. Are you going to tell them that it is for posterity they must
strike? Do you mean, when you thunder at them from the platforms, to
tell them the truth?--to tell them that the good which you promise is
not for them nor for their children, nor their children's children, but
for the unborn generations? Do you mean to tell them this?"

Maraton was silent. Lord Armley was watching him closely. Mr. Foley's
eyes were bright, and a little flush had stained the parchment pallor of
his cheeks. He was feeling all the thrill of the fencer who has
touched.

"I cannot convince you, Mr. Maraton," he went on, "that yours is not a
splendid dream, an idyllic vision, which would fade from the canvas
before even the colours were dry, but you have common sense, and I hope
at least I can persuade you to see this. You won't rally the working
men of England to your standard under that motto. That's why their
leaders are ignorant and commonplace men. They know very well that it's
to the pockets of their hearers they must appeal. A shilling a week
more now is what they want, not to ha