“Of individuals, no—but of all communities, yes. Is there any form of the life collective that is capable of love for its fellow—for another community? Is there any church that will stand aside that another church may be advantaged? ... You and I are civilized, as man and man; but collectively we are part of a life whose only standard and motive is self-interest, its own advantage ... a beast-life, morally. If you understand that, you understand to-night ... Which demands from us sacrifices, makes none itself.... That’s as far as we have got in the mass.”
Through the half-open window came the hum and murmur of the crowd that waited for the hour.... Theodore stirred restlessly, conscious of the unseen turning of countless faces to the clock—and aware, through the murmur, of the frenzied little beating of his watch.... He hesitated to look at it—and when he drew it out and said “Five minutes more,” his voice sounded oddly in his ears.
“Five minutes,” said Markham.... He laughed suddenly and pushed the bottle across the table. “Do you know where we are now—you and I and all of us? On the crest of the centuries. They’ve carried us a long roll upwards and now here we are—on top! In five more minutes—three hundred little seconds—we shall hear the crest curl over.... Meanwhile, have a drink!”
He checked himself and held up a finger. “Your watch is slow!”
The hum and murmur of the crowd had ceased and through silence unbroken came the prayer of the Westminster chime.
Lord—through—this—hour
Be—Thou—our—guide,
So—by—Thy—power
No—foot—shall—slide.
There was no other sound for the twelve booming strokes of the hour: it was only as the last beat quivered into silence that there broke the moving thunder of a multitude.