himself to accept without resentment the common herd’s frank fashion of
dropping sociably into other people’s conversations unembarrassed and
uninvited. The process was, not very difficult this time, for the man’s
smile and voice and manner were persuasive and winning. Tracy would even
have liked him on the spot, but for the fact–fact which he was not
really aware of–that the equality of men was not yet a reality to him,
it was only a theory; the mind perceived, but the man failed to feel it.
It was Hattie’s ghost over again, merely turned around. Theoretically
Barrow was his equal, but it was distinctly distasteful to see him
exhibit it. He presently said:
“I hope in all sincerity that what you have said is true, as regards the
Americans, for doubts have crept into my mind several times. It seemed
that the equality must be ungenuine where the sign-names of castes were
still in vogue; but those sign-names have certainly lost their offence
and are wholly neutralized, nullified and harmless if they are the
undisputed property of every individual in the nation. I think I realize
that caste does not exist and cannot exist except by common consent of
the masses outside of its limits. I thought caste created itself and
perpetuated itself; but it seems quite true that it only creates itself,
and is perpetuated by the people whom it despises, and who can dissolve
it at any time by assuming its mere sign-names themselves.”
“It’s what I think. There isn’t any power on earth that can prevent
England’s thirty millions from electing themselves dukes and duchesses
to-morrow and calling themselves so. And within six months all the
former dukes and duchesses would have retired from the business.
I wish they’d try that. Royalty itself couldn’t survive such a process.
A handful of frowners against thirty million laughers in a state of
irruption: Why, it’s Herculaneum against Vesuvius; it would take another
eighteen centuries to find that Herculaneum after the cataclysm. What’s
a Colonel in our South? He’s a nobody; because they’re all colonels down
there. No, Tracy” (shudder from Tracy) “nobody in England would call you
a gentleman and you wouldn’t call yourself one; and I tell you it’s a
state of things that makes a man put himself into most unbecoming
attitudes sometimes–the broad and general recognition and acceptance of
caste as caste does, I mean. Makes him do it unconsciously–being bred
in him, you see, and never thought over and reasoned out. You couldn’t
conceive of the Matterhorn being flattered by the notice of one of your
comely little English hills, could you?”
“Why, no.”
“Well, then, let a man in his right mind try to conceive of Darwin
feeling flattered by the notice of a princess. It’s so grotesque that
it–well, it paralyzes the imagination. Yet that Memnon was flattered by
the notice of that statuette; he says so-says so himself. The system
that can make a god disown his godship and profane it–oh, well, it’s all
wrong, it’s all wrong and ought to be abolished, I should say.”
The mention of Darwin brought on a literary discussion, and this topic
roused such enthusiasm in Barrow that he took off his coat and made
himself the more free and comfortable for it, and detained him so long
that he was still at it when the noisy proprietors of the room came
shouting and skylarking in and began to romp, scuffle, wash, and
otherwise entertain themselves. He lingered yet a little longer to offer
the hospitalities of his room and his book shelf to Tracy and ask him a
personal question or two:
“What is your trade?”
“They–well, they call me a cowboy, but that is a fancy. I’m not that.
I haven’t any trade.”
“What do you work at for your living?”
Oh, anything–I mean I would work at, anything I could get to do, but
thus far I haven’t been able to find an occupation.”
“Maybe I can help you; I’d like to try.”
“I shall be very glad. I’ve tried, myself, to weariness.”
“Well, of course where a man hasn’t a regular trade he’s pretty bad off
in this world. What you needed, I reckon, was less book learning and