And Hull knew that it was so. "What do you propose, Dorn?" he said. "I want to do what's right—what's best for the people."
"Don't worry about the people, Hull," said Victor.
"Upper classes come and pass, but the people remain—bigger and stronger and more aggressive with every century. And they dictate language and art, and politics and religion—what we shall all eat and wear and think and do. Only what they approve, only that yoke even which they themselves accept, has any chance of enduring. Don't worry about the people, Davy. Worry about yourself."
"I admit," said Hull, "that I don't like a lot of things about the—the forces I find I've got to use in order to carry through my plans. I admit that even the sincere young fellows I've grouped together to head this movement are narrow—supercilious—self-satisfied—that they irritate me and are not trustworthy. But I feel that, if I once get the office, I'll be strong enough to put my plans through." Nervously, "I'm giving you my full confidence—as I've given it to no one else."
"You've told me nothing I didn't know already," said Victor.
"I've got to choose between this reform party and your party," continued Hull. "That is, I've got no choice. For, candidly, I've no confidence in the working class. It's too ignorant to do the ruling. It's too credulous to build on—for its credulity makes it fickle. And I believe in the better class, too. It may be sordid and greedy and tyrannical, but by appealing to its good instincts—and to its fear of the money kings and the monopolists, something good can be got through it."
"If you want to get office," said Dorn, "you're right. But if you want to BE somebody, if you want to develop yourself, to have the joy of being utterly unafraid in speech and in action—why, come with us."
After a pause Hull said, "I'd like to do it. I'd like to help you."
Victor laid his hand on Davy's arm. "Get it straight, Davy," he said. "You can't help us. We don't need you. It's you that needs us. We'll make an honest man of you—instead of a trimming politician, trying to say or to do something more or less honest once in a while and winking at or abetting crookedness most of the time."
"I've done nothing, and I'll do nothing, to be ashamed of," protested Hull.