"That's as far as I can get," Stephen concluded, rubbing his forehead, as his habit was in moments of meditation. The conclusion did not seem wholly moral, or wholly logical, but it might work out fairly well in practice; government by the law--that is, the opinion of the majority--for the weak (themselves the majority), government by their own consciences and inclinations for the strong. Probably it was a rough statement of what generally happened, if the terms weak and strong might be taken to sum up the complex whole of a man's circumstances and character; both must by all means be considered. But who are the strong? How can they judge of their prowess until they are in the thick of the fray? If it fails them then, it's too late--and away to the horse-pond! You do poor service to a friend if you flatter him in this matter. When he finds himself in the pond, he will not be so grateful for your good opinion. Winnie came in, bright-eyed, softly singing, making for upstairs at a hasty pace. "I shall be late for dinner!" she cried. "I met Mr. Ledstone, and he made me go for a little walk." "Did you enjoy it?" asked Stephen politely. "Yes, thank you, Stephen, very much." She was gone. Stephen sighed. She had only one life--that was the unspoken plea of her youth, her beauty, and her new-born zest in living. Say what you like, the plea was cogent. CHAPTER VII A CODE AND A THEORY To probe Godfrey Ledstone's mind would be to come up against the odd bundle of ideas which constitutes the average young man's workaday morality--the code before mentioned. This congeries of rules, exceptions, compromises, strictnesses, and elasticities may be condemned; it cannot be sneered at or lightly dismissed. It has, on the whole, satisfied centuries; only at rare intervals has it been seriously interfered with by the powers that be, by Church, or State, or Church-ruled State. To interfere seriously with it is to rouse a hive of questions, large, difficult, so profoundly awkward as to appal statesmen, lay or ecclesiastical--questions not only moral and religious, but social and economic. Formal condemnation and practical tolerance leave these questions sleeping. The code goes on, exercising its semi-secret underground jurisdiction--a law never promulgated, but widely obeyed, a religion with millions of adherents and not a single preacher. Rather a queer way for the world to live? Rather a desperate attempt at striking a balance between nature and civilization? No doubt. But then, of course, it is only temporary. We are all going to be good some day. To make us all good, to make it possible for us all to be good, immediately--well, there is no telling but what that might involve a radical reconstitution of society. And would even that serve the turn?