“Yes,” I answered. “But I have never heard the situation stated so clearly. Do you think the day will come when statesmanship will recognize this need?”
“Ah,” he said, “I’m afraid not—in my time, at least. But we shall have to develop that kind of statesmen or go on the rocks. Public opinion in the old democratic sense is a myth; it must be made by strong individuals who recognize and represent evolutionary needs, otherwise it’s at the mercy of demagogues who play fast and loose with the prejudice and ignorance of the mob. The people don’t value the vote, they know nothing about the real problems. So far as I can see, they are as easily swayed to-day as the crowd that listened to Mark Antony’s oration about Caesar. You’ve seen how we have to handle them, in this election and—in other matters. It isn’t a pleasant practice, something we’d indulge in out of choice, but the alternative is unthinkable. We’d have chaos in no time. We’ve just got to keep hold, you understand—we can’t leave it to the irresponsible.”
“Yes,” I said. In this mood he was more impressive than I had ever known him, and his confidence flattered and thrilled me.
“In the meantime, we’re criminals,” he continued. “From now on we’ll have to stand more and more denunciation from the visionaries, the dissatisfied, the trouble makers. We may as well make up our minds to it. But we’ve got something on our side worth fighting for, and the man who is able to make that clear will be great.”
“But you—you are going to the Senate,” I reminded him.
He shook his head.
“The time has not yet come,” he said. “Confusion and misunderstanding must increase before they can diminish. But I have hopes of you, Hugh, or I shouldn’t have spoken. I shan’t be here now—of course I’ll keep in touch with you. I wanted to be sure that you had the right view of this thing.”
“I see it now,” I said. “I had thought of it, but never—never as a whole—not in the large sense in which you have expressed it.” To attempt to acknowledge or deprecate the compliment he had paid me was impossible; I felt that he must have read my gratitude and appreciation in my manner.
“I mustn’t keep you up until morning.” He glanced at the clock, and went with me through the hall into the open air. A meteor darted through the November night. “We’re like that,” he observed, staring after it, a “flash across the darkness, and we’re gone.”