The rain had fallen and was all on its way to the sea. Only chill, moist winds were left, and the smell of the rain in the open window.
“I think I’m ready to be finished,” Charles said.
“Finished with what?”
“Secrets and sins and confusions.”
“How will you finish with them, Charles?”
“When we were out there this afternoon with William, I thought I knew.”
“What did you know?”
But he shook his head. “Don’t ask me yet.”
“Of our philosophers, Charles, did any practice what they preached?”
“Do you mean, were any of them more than theorists?”
“Yes. They could scribble their reams, but did they live any of their principles? Adams risked his life to put his signature on the Declaration.”
“Madison would be the real example. He was the real brains behind the Constitution, and then he had to govern by it for eight years.”
“Hoisted on his own petard, wasn’t he, Charles? He had his theories about divided government, and then he had to pay the price when he was president. He must have wished at times he’d written the Constitution differently.”
“But he knew what he was getting into. You know, Derek, I think his experience in real governance would have convinced him that his theory of governance was correct. He would have been willing to pay the price.”
“And Thomas Hobbes was exiled to Paris.”
“And Voltaire was exiled from Paris.”
“I would have preferred Hobbes’s position, Charles. Yes, I suppose many of them did pay some price for their ideas.”
“Derek, do you have any theories or ideals for which you would risk your life?”
“Not at all. Power and control aren’t theories. What about you, Charles?”
“I do, Derek. Though I rather hope it doesn’t come to that.”