luminous reasons for their camping just where they were and going

on with their administrative duties forthwith. He knew of this

place, because he had happened upon it when holiday-making with

Madame Leblanc twenty years and more ago. 'There is very simple

fare at present,' he explained, 'on account of the disturbed

state of the countries about us. But we have excellent fresh

milk, good red wine, beef, bread, salad, and lemons… In a

few days I hope to place things in the hands of a more efficient

caterer…'

The members of the new world government dined at three long

tables on trestles, and down the middle of these tables Leblanc,

in spite of the barrenness of his menu, had contrived to have a

great multitude of beautiful roses. There was similar

accommodation for the secretaries and attendants at a lower level

down the mountain. The assembly dined as it had debated, in the

open air, and over the dark crags to the west the glowing June

sunset shone upon the banquet. There was no precedency now among

the ninety-three, and King Egbert found himself between a

pleasant little Japanese stranger in spectacles and his cousin of

Central Europe, and opposite a great Bengali leader and the

President of the United States of America. Beyond the Japanese

was Holsten, the old chemist, and Leblanc was a little way down

the other side.

The king was still cheerfully talkative and abounded in ideas. He

fell presently into an amiable controversy with the American, who

seemed to feel a lack of impressiveness in the occasion.

It was ever the Transatlantic tendency, due, no doubt, to the

necessity of handling public questions in a bulky and striking

manner, to over-emphasise and over-accentuate, and the president

was touched by his national failing. He suggested now that there

should be a new era, starting from that day as the first day of

the first year.

The king demurred.

'From this day forth, sir, man enters upon his heritage,' said

the American.

'Man,' said the king, 'is always entering upon his heritage. You

Americans have a peculiar weakness for anniversaries-if you will

forgive me saying so. Yes-I accuse you of a lust for dramatic

effect. Everything is happening always, but you want to say this

or this is the real instant in time and subordinate all the

others to it.'

The American said something about an epoch-making day.

'But surely,' said the king, 'you don't want us to condemn all

humanity to a world-wide annual Fourth of July for ever and ever

more. On account of this harmless necessary day of declarations.

No conceivable day could ever deserve that. Ah! you do not know,

as I do, the devastations of the memorable. My poor grandparents

were-RUBRICATED. The worst of these huge celebrations is that

they break up the dignified succession of one's contemporary

emotions. They interrupt. They set back. Suddenly out come the

flags and fireworks, and the old enthusiasms are furbished

up-and it's sheer destruction of the proper thing that ought to

be going on. Sufficient unto the day is the celebration thereof.

Let the dead past bury its dead. You see, in regard to the

calendar, Iam for democracy and you are for aristocracy. All

things I hold, are august, and have a right to be lived through

on their merits. No day should be sacrificed on the grave of

departed events. What do you think of it, Wilhelm?'

'For the noble, yes, all days should be noble.'

'Exactly my position,' said the king, and feltpleased at what he

had been saying.

And then, since the American pressed his idea, the king contrived

to shift the talk from the question of celebrating the epoch they

were making to the question of the probabilities that lay ahead.

Here every one became diffident. They could see the world

unified and at peace, but what detail was to follow from that

unification they seemed indisposed to discuss. This diffidence

struck the king as remarkable. He plunged upon the possibilities

of science. All the huge expenditure that had hitherto gone into

unproductive naval and military preparations, must now, he

declared, place research upon a new footing. 'Where one man

worked we will have a thousand.' He appealed to Holsten. 'We

have only begun to peep into these possibilities,' he said. 'You

at any rate have sounded the vaults of the treasure house.'

'They are unfathomable,' smiled Holsten.

'Man,' said the American, with a manifest resolve to justify and

reinstate himself after the flickering contradictions of the

king, 'Man, I say, is only beginning to enter upon his heritage.'

'Tell us some of the things you believe we shall presently learn,

give us an idea of the things we may presently do,' said the king

to Holsten.

Holsten opened out the vistas…

'Science,' the king cried presently, 'is the new king of the

world.'

'OUR view,' said the president, 'is that sovereignty resides with

the people.'

'No!' said the king, 'the sovereign is a being more subtle than

that. And less arithmetical. Neither my family nor your

emancipated people. It is something that floats about us, and

above us, and through us. It is that common impersonal will and

sense of necessity of which Science is the best understood and

most typical aspect. It is the mind of the race. It is that

which has brought us here, which has bowed us all to its

demands…'