The fat man watched the flush on Dick's face as he spoke, and was apparently gratified.
"You see," he went on, still watching Dick's face closely, "I am getting on in life, and I have shed my illusions. I have my own philosophy of life, too. I do not believe that the reformer, that the man who lives to relieve the woes of others must of necessity be a monk, a Peter the Hermit, a Francis of Assisi. The labourer is worthy his hire; the great worker should have a great reward. Why should honour, riches, fall into the lap of kings who do nothing, of an aristocracy which is no aristocracy? Youth is ambitious as well as altruistic. Thus ambitions should be ministered unto, realised. Shakespeare was only a shallow parrot, when he wrote the words, 'Cromwell, I charge thee, fling away ambition.' The man who flings away ambition becomes a pulpy reed. He lacks driving force, lacks elemental passions. If one opposes primitive instincts, one is doomed to failure."
"Pardon me if I fail to see what you are driving at," interposed Dick.
"You'll see in a minute," asserted the other. "What I urge is this: the man who sets up a new kingdom should be a king. It is his right. The man who sees a new earth, a more glorious earth, an earth where justice and right abound, and where neither poverty nor discontent is known—I say the man who sees that new earth and brings it to pass should rule over it as king. He should have, not the pomp and empty pageantry of a paltry hereditary king, but the honour, the power, the riches of the true king."
The man paused as if he expected Dick to reply, but no reply was forthcoming. Still, the stout man was evidently satisfied by his survey of Dick's face, and he noted the flash of his eyes.
"That is why, to come back to where we were a few minutes ago," he went on, "I see such a future for you as was never possible to any other Englishman. I see you, not only as the man who will revolutionise the life of this starved and corrupt country, not only as the man who will bring in a new era of prosperity and happiness for all who are citizens of the British Empire, but as the man who can enjoy such a position, such honours, such riches as no man ever enjoyed before. Do you follow me? The people who are redeemed will make haste to heap glory and honour upon their redeemer."
"History does not bear that out," was Dick's reply.
"No, and why, my friend? I will tell you. It is because the men who have aimed to be saviours have been fools. It is because they have been blind to the elemental facts of life. The first business of the saviour is not self-interest—I do not say that—but to regard his own welfare as essential to the welfare of others. The man who allows himself to be crucified is no true saviour, because by allowing it he renders himself powerless to save. No, no, I see you, not only as one who can be a great reformer, and as one who can strike death-blows at the hoary head of abuse, but as one who can lift himself into such fame and power as was never known before. The plaudits of the multitudes, the most glorious gifts of the world, the love of the loveliest women—all, all, and a thousand times more, can be yours. That is your future as I see it, my friend."
"Do you know what I think of you?" asked Dick, with a nervous laugh.
"It would be interesting to know," was the reply.