big game, and is called an “adventurous spirit.” If it seizes a band of hobbledehoys of the so-called “working class,” they come in collision with the police and the orderliness of the town, and are called hooligans. If it comes with special violence to an adult, he makes a murderous assault on somebody, and the passion is described in the newspapers either as vile and brutal violence, or as homicidal mania, according to the taste and fancy of the doctors who give evidence at his trial. In the former case he is hanged; in the latter he is confined at Broadmoor “during his Majesty’s pleasure.” And there, to all outward seeming, is an end of his influence on society.
(You and I, friends, know very well that there is not an end of his influence. What is the good of pretending to believe that which we know is not true? You in the condemned cell know very well that the world will be, in some respects, different hereafter, according to whether you do or do not pull yourself together and think clearly during the few days you still have to live on earth.)
All the above-mentioned names denote conditions not indeed exactly similar. They differ as the same note differs when played on violin, pianoforte, trumpet, or flute. The differences are due to overtones, or colour-tones. The relation between them concerns those whose business it is to orchestrate, or organise, that complex symphony known as human society. Let us hope they understand the delicate intricacies of their work. For us, the business on hand is simpler; we have to find out what our note itself is by the help of a simple tuning-fork.
