to the young tree. Each century will do its work; to-day, civic; to-morrow, humane. To-day the question of right, to-morrow the question of wage. Wage and right are the same word in reality. Man does not live to receive no wage; God, in giving life, contracts a debt: right is innate wage; wage is acquired right."
Gauvain spoke with the assurance of a prophet. Cimourdain listened. The rôles were exchanged, and now it seemed as if the pupil had become the master.
Cimourdain murmured,—
"You go too fast."
"Perhaps it is because I am somewhat pressed for time," said Gauvain, with a smile.
And he added,—
"O my master, this is the difference between our two Utopias. You want the barracks obligatory, while I want a school. You dream of a man as a soldier, I dream of him as a citizen. You want him to be terrible, I would have him thoughtful. You would found a republic of swords, I would found——"
He hesitated,—
"I would found a republic of intellects."
Cimourdain looked at the pavement of the dungeon and said,—
"And till then what would you have?"
"What now exists."
"Then you absolve the present moment?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because it is a tempest. A tempest always knows what it is about. For one oak struck by lightning, how many forests purified! Civilization had a pestilence, this great gale is sweeping it away. It does not discriminate enough, perhaps. Can it do otherwise? It has such a rough cleansing to perform. Before the horror of miasma, I understand the fury of the blast."
Gauvain continued,—
"Moreover, what is the tempest to me, if I have the compass? and what difference can events make to me, if I have my conscience?"
And he added in a low voice, which was solemn as well,—
"There is one who must always be allowed to do his will."
