"The world has outgrown Kings," retorted Vard. "In any event, another fifty years will see them all abolished. I but hasten the end a little—the millennium. And he will be happier when he is merely a man like other men."
"Happiness is not the greatest thing in the world," Pachmann objected.
"And I say it is!" cried Vard, with sudden violence. "Not our own happiness—no; but the happiness of our fellow-creatures. That is the greatest thing in the world; the thing for which every wise and good man labours!"
There was a moment's silence. The Prince shifted uneasily in his chair and clasped and unclasped his hands. There had never been such talk as this in the royal nursery!
Pachmann's face was cynical, as he lighted a fresh cigar.
"Dreams!" he sneered. "Beautiful dreams! Do you know what it is you are undertaking? You are undertaking to change human nature."
"That is an old cry," retorted Vard scornfully. "And what if I were? Human nature is changing every day! But I am not undertaking to change it—I wish merely to free human nature from the fetters with which tyrants bind it, so that it may grow straight and strong, as God intended."
"I am not acquainted with God's intentions," said Pachmann coldly. "He does not confide in me. But my philosophy, my observation, and my experience teach me that the wise man makes the best of things as they are, accepts the facts of life, and does what he can. He sees that the world is too big for him to overturn, he realises that there are many things he cannot understand, his intelligence sometimes revolts at what seems to be oppression and injustice. But he puts away from him the fallacy that all men are equal—they are 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."