“It is precisely to show you I am right that I am here,” replied the High President.

“I’m much flattered,” said Mortimer, “although I fail to see why you should be at any pains on that point.”

“Never mind that for the moment,” answered the High President. “You will learn the reason before our interview closes.”

Mortimer bowed.

“I will begin by explaining to you,” said the High President, “that this movement had its origin many years ago—in fact, it began almost immediately after the Monarchy was first inaugurated. It began not with a united, organized body as we are to-day, but in a number of scattered, disunited elements possessed of widely divergent aims and objects. There were those who were opposed to the monarchical institution and who desired the return of the former Republic; there were others—and these were by far the larger and more important body—who were profoundly dissatisfied with the existing economic conditions and who eagerly, if vaguely, aspired to a change of some kind. There was but one common chord uniting these various elements; all were dissatisfied and all were more or less revolutionary. For a period I studied the problem of how to fuse these various scattered elements and the problem seemed so difficult that I was for a time in despair. It was just at that period that by a strange turn of Fate—or by the interposition of Divine Providence, as some may piously believe—that I found myself in a position of commanding financial power. From that day on the road grew easier for me. From that day on, I vowed to dedicate my life to raising my countrymen to a higher plane of liberty and happiness than the world had yet known. Washington had led them to freedom from the bondage of political tyranny; I would seek to free them from the far more bitter tyranny of economic bondage. To that cause, I have through the years devoted my fortune, my energies and my work. To that cause I am prepared, if need be, to lay down my life.”

“A noble ideal, indeed!” exclaimed the Professor enthusiastically. “I admire and respect you for it.”

“I appreciate the spirit which has animated you, General,” said Mortimer, “although I dissent from some of the methods you may have adopted in its execution.”

“My first care,” said the High President, disregarding the interruption, “was to look about me for some means of unifying the various scattered elements of political and economic discontent. This I soon perceived could not be quickly done. It was a question of time, and above all, of education. By education, I mean teaching the individual members of the different elements precisely what were the causes of their unhappiness and discontent, wherein the true remedies lay and just what were the conditions they must seek to attain. To this end I carefully trained a corps of instructors, men and women. These people preached no sedition; they advocated no revolutionary movement. They simply taught a new form of interesting political economy, showing people why they suffered and where lay the remedy. I had not so much interest or concern for the great mass of those forming the existing army of discontent. They were mostly too set in their own old ideas and aims, although even among these were found some good material. My chief attention was given to the rising generation. Youth is easily taught and the impressions of youth are usually vivid and lasting. It was to the youth of the land we turned and the results exceeded the highest expectations. Before long there were great bodies of men throughout the country—men eager and bold with the intensity of youth—who were filled not with the vague, shadowy ideas of the political partisan, but with a clear knowledge of economics. And it was to the women of the country—to the mothers, the wives and the sisters—that we owed this most largely—a plan which I once had the pleasure of suggesting to you as applicable to your day, Professor Dean.”

“Ah, yes,” exclaimed the Professor, “but little did I think you had actually put it into practical execution.”

“Well, I had,” answered the High President dryly. “While this work of education was going on I was doing everything in my power to render the general conditions hard as possible for the masses. It was a curious dual rôle I filled. With my entire being pledged to their ultimate upraising and welfare, I was temporarily inflicting upon them terrible hardship and suffering. By many I was regarded as a monster in human form; even the Court and the Chancellerie protested against what seemed to be my insatiable exactions—protested not because of the widespread misery and suffering inflicted, but because of the dangerous spirit of public discontent engendered. Ah, little they suspected that it was precisely this dangerous spirit of discontent which I sought to foster and to feed, for it is through the suffering and the misery of the people that the spirit is awakened which leads to great changes. In the light of this explanation, Professor, you will now understand the true meaning of the proposed corner in coal which so aroused your horror and indignation.”