"
In Miltoun there was rising that vast and subtle passion for dialectic
combat, which was of his very fibre. He had almost lost the feeling
that this was his own future being discussed. He saw before him in this
sanguine man, whose voice and eyes had such a white-hot sound and look,
the incarnation of all that he temperamentally opposed.
"That," he said, "is devil's advocacy. I admit no individual as judge in
his own case."
"Ah! Now we're coming to it. By the way, shall we get out of this heat?"
They were no sooner in the cooler street, than the voice of Courtier
began again:
"Distrust of human nature, fear--it's the whole basis of action for men
of your stamp. You deny the right of the individual to judge, because
you've no faith in the essential goodness of men; at heart you believe
them bad. You give them no freedom, you allow them no consent, because
you believe that their decisions would move downwards, and not upwards.
Well, it's the whole difference between the aristocratic and the
democratic view of life. As you once told me, you hate and fear the
crowd."
Miltoun eyed that steady sanguine face askance:
"Yes," he said, "I do believe that men are raised in spite of
themselves."
"You're honest. By whom?"
Again Miltoun felt rising within him a sort of fury. Once for all he
would slay this red-haired rebel; he answered with almost savage irony:
"Strangely enough, by that Being to mention whom you object--working
through the medium of the best.
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