“An autocracy would not flourish in your country, I presume, Sir Walter? The British people have been too long accustomed to sing that they ‘never, never will be slaves.’ Your Government is really more or less of a Republic.”
“All Governments are so in these days, I imagine,” replied Langton. “Autocracy on the part of a monarch is nowhere endured, save in Russia,—and what is Russia? A huge volcano, smouldering with fire, and ever threatening to break out in flame and engulf the Throne! Monarchs were not always wisdom personified in olden times,—and I venture to consider them nowadays less wise and more careless than ever. Only a return to almost barbaric ignorance and superstition would tolerate any complete monarchical authority in these present times of progress. It is only the long serfdom of Russia that hinders the triumph of Liberty there, as elsewhere.”
The Marquis listened eagerly, and with evident satisfaction.
“I agree with you!” he said. “You consider, then, that in no country, under any circumstances, could the people be expected to obey their monarch blindly?”
“Certainly not! Even Rome, with its visible spiritual Head and Sovereign, has no real power. It imagines it has; but let it make any decided step to ensnare the liberties of the people at large, and the result would be somewhat astonishing! Personally—” and he smiled gravely—“I have often thought that my own country would be very much benefited by a couple of years existence under an autocrat—an autocrat like Cromwell, for example. A man strong and fierce, intelligent and candid,—who would expose shams and destroy abuses,—who would have no mercy on either religious, social, or political fraud, and who would perform the part of the necessary hard broom for sweeping the National house. But, unfortunately, we have no such man. You have,—in your Sergius Thord!”
The Premier heard this name with unconcealed amazement.
“Sergius Thord! Why he is a mere fanatic——”
“Pardon me!” interrupted Sir Walter,—“so was Cromwell!”
“But, my dear sir!” remonstrated the Marquis smilingly,—“Is it possible that you really consider Sergius Thord any sort of an influence in this country? If you do, I assure you you are greatly mistaken!”
“I think not,” responded Sir Walter quietly; “With every respect for you, Marquis, I believe I am not mistaken! Books written by Sergius Thord are circulating in their thousands all over the world—his speeches are reported not only here, but in journals which probably you never hear of, in far-off countries,—in short, his propaganda is simply enormous. He is a kind of new Rousseau, without,—so far as I can learn,—Rousseau’s private vices. He is a man I much wished to see during my stay here, but I have not had the opportunity of finding him out. He is an undoubted genius,—but I need not remind you, Marquis, that a man is never a prophet in his own country! The world’s ‘celebrity’ is always eyed with more or less suspicion as a strange sort of rogue or vagabond in his own native town or village!”