To-day the registration of the Company, the lease of offices, the prospectus, the flotation are the progressive revelations of such a mandate. Of all these allotment is the Crown.
The M’Korio Delta Development Company opened its lists on the 9th of July. By four o’clock of the 10th those lists were closed and the capital had been subscribed; it is not known how many times over.
With the next day the allotment began.
Those of my fellow citizens who have been engaged in the active work of Empire building, will know what I mean when I say that allotment is among the hardest tasks which our country demands of us. Those who have not been thus actively engaged in the expansion of our civilisation (“they also serve who only stand and wait”) must take it for granted.
Consider the care and judgment to be exercised! Not to disappoint what is influential or what is strong: not to alienate the mass of small subscribers—for the mass of small subscribers is Public Opinion. Not to offend the proprietor of a great newspaper. Yet also, not to offend the manager, the editor—sometimes the papermaker. To consider the claims which good birth and a long tradition of government will give to this man, a genius for affairs to that. To remember (and sometimes it is only remembered at the last moment) that such and such a name—almost passed over in its insignificance—stands for another much greater name. To recollect the power of this subscriber with men of his own religion, of this other with men who cultivate honesty, of a third with those who admire the capacity for intrigue. Monarchy must be remembered: it is a permanent feature in our English life. The army must be remembered. Politicians, some of whose names the public will ignore, must yet be accurately gauged. Their power as managers and leaders must be estimated. Even the foreigner must have his place, and must be known. The foreign sovereign, the foreign negotiator, may help to wreck or to make the thing. He may be turned from the ally to the enemy of our beloved country by one involuntary error.
It is a task, I say, of awful responsibility, and one in which a man may do more in a few moments to advance or retard the designs of Providence than in any other of the modern world.
The work went on. Three hours of it, four hours, sometimes five. On the second day Mr Burden nearly broke down, Lord Benthorpe was actually absent for two days running, fallen ill from sheer fatigue. It told even upon Mr Harbury. He got black patches under his eyes, and he walked, a new thing for him, with some fatigue. Mr Barnett alone seemed to be actually refreshed by the closeness of application that was necessary.
The public outside grumbled; nothing could be done till the allotment was declared. They would have grumbled less had they seen the grinding work of those ten days. Every morning the mass of letters was sorted, the list of names drawn up, and with strict commercial probity every single application passed before each of the directors.
On the fifth day Mr Burden’s head was lost, and Lord Benthorpe’s assent had become mechanical. Mr Barnett, on the contrary, became more and more eager, more and more exact as the work proceeded. Before the close of the sixth day, his brain alone was sitting in judgment over that mass of papers; it was fortunate, for on the remaining four days the most delicate part of the work remained to be done. There did indeed pass by Mr Burden one or two incongruous things that troubled him. Canon Cone had sent no cheque. Mr Barnett would make himself responsible for that. Major Pondo, whom Mr Burden had always regarded as a poor, adventurous man, applied for fifteen thousand shares. The secretary of that politician who had most consistently denounced the financial side of our colonial expansion applied for ten thousand.