At Breakspeare's last remark, he looked up and said: "The world moves, and always has moved, at the impulse of a very small minority." "Philosophically, I am convinced of that," replied the editor, as though he meant to guard himself against too literal or practical an application of the theorem.
"The task of our time," pursued Dyce, with a half absent air, "is to make this not only understood by, but acceptable to, the multitude.
Political education is our pressing need, and political education means teaching the People how to select its Rulers.

For my own part, I have rather more hope of a constituency such as Hollingford, than of one actively democratic.

The fatal thing is for an electorate to be bent on choosing the man as near as possible like unto themselves.

That is the false idea of representation.

Progress does not mean guidance by one of the multitude, but by one of nature's elect, and the multitude must learn how to recognise such a man." He looked at Lady Ogram, smiling placidly.
"There's rather a Tory sound about that," said the hostess, with a nod, "but Mr.Breakspeare will understand." "To be sure, to be sure!" exclaimed the editor.