Indeed, I do not believe military discipline is at all possible, except with highly developed individualities, which is one reason that a Communal form of government has never been possible until now. Then, too, the constant effort of the soldier is to distinguish himself by rising above the common level.”
“To distinguish himself, to surpass others! Are they good motives, Clare?”
“To surpass others in diligence and devotion to the common weal?” said Mr. Clare. “It is a motive that is never found unmixed, rector, either with love of one’s self or love of one’s fellows; in the last case I should not call it a bad motive.”
“But in the first?” said the rector.
“Well, ambition in a good cause is better than ambition in a bad one, of which we have so much nowadays. I should call it a motive which would be likely to purify itself as it went along, or else come to signal grief, as in the case of Judas.”
“Ah! you take that view of Judas’s character!” cried the rector, whereupon the discussion glided into another channel.
But on the August evening when we again meet Mr. Clare, his thoughts are busy with a state of things far from ideal. The “little game” which Mr. Dare had been “up to” two years ago, and in which Mr. Randolph had succeeded in “taking a hand,” had been partially operative in producing what is called a glut in the market, of certain articles considered by modern civilization necessaries of life. This glut did by no means signify that every one in the world had as much as he or she could use of such necessaries; but only that, an artificial scarcity of certain other actual necessities having been produced, with a consequent rise in price, much coin of the commonwealth had been diverted into the pockets of the capitalists who had produced the “corner,” while the commonalty had just so much less; and, if they purchased one article, were forced to go without another. Thus came what is known as “over-production,” a euphemism which one might suppose owed its origin to the capitalists themselves, if these polished, genial personages were capable of so veiling from themselves and the world the misery of which they are the cause. After all, those who perish from want and suffering in these days do not greatly outnumber the victims that have been offered to many a hero’s love of conquest; yet how many conquerors have been almost or actually deified by adoring soldiery! And as these heroes seldom fail with kind words, crosses of the Legion of Honor, cigars, and such like, to reward the devotion of their followers, so the modern money-king seldom refuses a subscription to aid those who have suffered in his cause. There is a superb magnificence about this new and civilized game of war, this winning and losing millions by a stroke of the pen, which renders it overwhelmingly worth the candle, at least in the opinion of the players; and while its barbaric splendor fascinates the intellect and deadens certain of the moral qualities, it also leaves others ample room to flourish and develop, thus producing a deformed but not ignoble character. But moral deformity is not only far removed from the stature of the perfect man in Christ, but inevitably tends to perpetuate itself, to the permanent and growing deterioration of the race; and those who arraign God Almighty because of the sufferings of the poor must consider that only by these very sufferings can this frustration of the very object of man’s creation be prevented, and the eyes of rich and poor alike be opened to the enormity of the crime committed.
Upon the August evening to which we return again, the unusual clearness of the air, which, from a Micklegard point of view, was decidedly a melancholy beauty, seemed at first sight to have no sort of connection whatever with Mr. Randolph’s trip to Paris and “Dare’s little game.” Yet one result of the financial crisis referred to had been that many of the factories in Micklegard, including Randolph’s Mill, had found themselves overstocked with goods, and, after intervals of “shutting down” for a month at a time, had decided themselves unable, consistently with the fall of prices caused by “over-production,” to run their mills on the old terms. But, capital having caused the crisis, it was quite right and logical—from a military point of view, and according to a certain Latin proverb—that the losses should be borne by Labor; and Randolph’s Mill set the example of offering the “hands” (which unfortunately had mouths also appertaining unto them) lower wages.
Why should we go further into detail? Are not the terrible, sickening, godless minutiæ of a “strike” known to every one? There were knots of desperate-looking men always talking, talking at the corners of the streets; or, worse, leaning against the walls, with folded arms, lowering brows, and darkly gleaming eyes. Those who were fortunate enough worked at cleaning the streets, as porters, or at any odd job that fell in their way; sometimes a whole family were dependent upon the earnings of some daughter out at service, or son employed as cash or errand boy in a store.
“Oh! they get help from the unions,” said a wealthy mill-owner one day to Ernest Clare; “some of them live better than they ever did in their lives.”