Summary

Book I--Proem

Chap. I _Midas_

The condition of England one of the most ominous ever seen in
this world: Full of wealth in every kind, yet dying of
inanition; Workhouses, in which no work cane be done.
Destitution in Scotland. Stockport Assizes. England's
unprofitable success: Human faces glooming discordantly on one
another. Midas longed for gold, and the gods gave it him.

Chap. II. _The Sphinx_

The grand unnamable Sphinx-riddle, which each man is called upon
to solve. Notions of the foolish concerning justice and
judgment. Courts of Westminster, and the general High Court of
the Universe. The one strong thing, the just thing, the true
thing. A noble Conservatism, as well as an ignoble. In all
battles of men each fighter, in the end, prospers according to
his right: Wallace of Scotland. Fact and Semblance. What is
justice? As many men as there are in a Nation who can _see_
Heaven's justice, so many are there who stand between it
and perdition.

Chap. III. _Manchester Insurrection_

Peterloo not an unsuccessful Insurrection. Governors who wait
for Insurrection to instruct them, getting into the fatalest
courses. Unspeakable County Yeomanry. Poor Manchester
operatives, and their huge inarticulate question: Unhappy
Workers, unhappier idlers, of this actual England! Fair day's-
wages for fair day's-work: Milton's 'wages;' Cromwell's. Pay
to each man what he has earned and done and deserved; what more
have we to ask? Some not _in_supportable approximation
indispensable and inevitable.

Chap. IV. _Morrison's Pill_

A state of mind worth reflecting on. No Morrison's Pill for
curing the maladies of Society: Universal alteration of regimen
and way of life: Vain jargon giving place to some genuine Speech
again. If we walk according to the Law of this Universe, the
Law-Maker will befriend us; if not, not. Quacks, sham heroes,
the one bane of the world. Quack and Dupe, upper side and under
of the selfsame substance.

Chap. V. _Aristocracy of Talent_

All misery the fruit of unwisdom: Neither with individuals nor
with Nations is it fundamentally otherwise. Nature in late
centuries universally supposed to be dead; but now everywhere
asserting herself to be alive and miraculous. That guidance of
this country not sufficiently wise. Aristocracy of talent, or
government by the Wisest, a dreadfully difficult affair to get
started. The true _eye_ for talent; and the flunky eye for
respectabilities, warm garnitures and
larders dropping fatness: Bobus and Bobissimus.

Chap. VI. _Hero-worship_

Enlightened Egoism, never so luminous, not the rule by which
man's life can be led: A _soul,_ different from a stomach in any
sense of the word. Hero-worship done differently in every
different epoch of the world. Reform, like Charity, must begin
at home. Arrestment of the knaves and dastards, beginning by
arresting our own poor selves out of that fraternity. The
present Editor's purpose to himself full of hope. A Loadstar
in the eternal sky: glimmering of light, for here and there
a human soul.

Book II--The Ancient Monk

Chap. I. _Jocelin of Brakelond_

How the Centuries stand lineally related to each other. The one
Book not permissible, the kind that has nothing in it. Jocelin's
'Chronicle,' a private Boswellean Note-book, now seven centuries
old. How Jocelin, from under his monk's cowl, looked out on that
narrow section of the world in a really _human_ manner: A wise
simplicity in him; a _veracity_ that goes deeper than words.
Jocelin's Monk-Latin; and Mr. Rokewood's editorial helpfulness
and fidelity. A veritable Monk of old Bury St. Edmunds worth
attending to. This England of ours, of the year 1200: Coeur-de-
Lion: King Lackland, and his thirteenpenny mass. The poorest
historical Fact, and the grandest imaginative Fiction.

Chap. II. _St. Edmundsbury_

St. Edmund's Bury, a prosperous brisk Town: Extensive ruins of
the Abbey still visible. Assiduous Pedantry, and its rubbish-
heaps called 'History.' Another world it was, when those black
ruins first saw the sun as walls. At lowest, O dilettante
friend, let us know always that it _was_ a world. No easy matter
to get across the chasm of Seven Centuries: Of all helps; a
Boswell, even a small Boswell, the welcomest.

Chap. III. _Landlord Edmund_

'Battle of Fornham,' a fact, though a forgotten one. Edmund,
Landlord of the Eastern Counties: A very singular kind of
'landlord.' How he came to be 'sainted.' Seen and felt to have
done verily a man's part in this life pilgrimage of his. How
they took up the slain body of their Edmund, and reverently
embalmed it. Pious munificence, ever growing by new pious gifts.
Certain Times do crystallise themselves in a magnificent manner;
others in a rather shabby one.

Chap. IV. _Abbot Hugo_

All things have two faces, a light one and dark: The Ideal has
to grow in the Real, and to seek its bed and board there, often
in a very sorry manner. Abbot Hugo, grown old and feeble. Jew
debts and Jew creditors. How approximate justice strives to
accomplish itself. In the old monastic Books almost no Mention
whatever of 'personal religion.' A poor Lord Abbot, all stuck-
over with horse-leeches: A 'royal commission of inquiry,' to no
purpose. A monk's first duty, obedience. Magister Samson,
Teacher of the Novices. The Abbot's providential death.

Chap. V. _Twelfth Century_

Inspectors of Custodiars; the King not in any breathless haste
to appoint a new Abbot. Dim and very strange looks that monk-
life to us. Our venerable ancient spinning grandmothers,
shrieking, and rushing out with their distaffs. Lakenheath eels
too slippery to be caught. How much is alive in England, in that
Twelfth Century; how much, not yet come into life. Feudal
Aristocracy; Willelmus conquaestor: Not a steeple-chimney yet
got on end from sea to sea.

Chap. VI. _Monk Samson_

Monk-Life and Monk-Religion: A great heaven-high
Unquestionability, encompassing, interpenetrating all human
Duties. Our modern Arkwright Joe-Manton ages: All human dues
and reciprocities, changed into one great due of 'cash-payment'
The old monks but a limited class of creatures, with a somewhat
dull life of it. One Monk of a taciturn nature distinguishes
himself among those babling ones. A Son of poor Norfolk parents.
Little Samson's awful dream: His poor Mother dedicates him to
St. Edmund. He grows to be a learned man, of devout grave
nature. Sent to Rome on business; and returns _too_ successful:
Method of traveling thither in those days. His tribulations at
home: Strange conditions under which Wisdom has sometimes to
struggle with folly.

Chap. VII. _The Canvassing_

A new Abbot to be elected. Even gossip, seven centuries off, has
significance. The Prior with Twelve Monks, to wait on his
Majesty at Waltham. An 'election' the on important social act:
Given the Man a People choose, the worth and worthlessness of the
People itself is given.

Chap. VIII. _The Election_

Electoral methods and manipulations. Brother Samson ready
oftenest with some question, some suggestion that his wisdom in
it. The Thirteen off to Waltham, to choose their Abott: In the
solitude of the Convent, Destiny thus big and in her birthtime,
what gossiping, babbling, dreaming of dreams! King Henry II in
his high Presence-chamber. Samson chosen Abbot: the King's
royal acceptation. St. Edmundsbury Monks, without express ballot
box or other winnowing machine. In every nation and Community
there is at all times _a fittest,_ wisest, bravest, best. Human
Worth and human Worthlessness.

Chap. IX. _Abbot Samson_

The Lord Abbot's arrival at St. Edmundsbury: The self-same
Samson yesterday a poor mendicant, this day, finds himself a
_Dominus Abbas_ and mitred Peer of Parliament. Depth and
opulence of true social vitality in those old barbarous ages.
True Governors go about under all manner of disguises now as
then. Genius, Poet; what these words mean. George the Third,
head charioteer of England; and Robert Burns, gauger of ale in
Dumfries. How Abbot Samson found a Convert all in dilapidation.
His life-long harsh apprenticeship to governing, namely obeying.
First get your Man; all is got. Danger of blockheads.

Chap. X. _Government_

Beautiful, how the chrysalis governing-soul, shaking off its
dusty slough and prison, starts forth winged, a true royal soul!
One first labour, to institute a strenuous review and radical
reform of his economics. Wheresoever Disorder may stand or lie,
let it have a care; here is a man that has declared war with it.
In less than four years the Convent debts are all liquidated, and
the harpy Jews banished from St. Edmundsbury. New life springs
beneficent everywhere: Spiritual rubbish as little tolerated
as material.

Chap. XI. _The Abbot's Ways_

Reproaches, open and secret, of ingratitude, unsociability;
Except for 'fit men' in all kinds, hard to say for whom Abbot
Samson had much favour. Remembrance of benefits. An eloquent
man, but intent more on substance than on ornament. A just clear
heart the basis of all true talent. One of the justest of
judges; His invaluable 'talent of silence.' Kind of people he
liked worst. Hospitality and stocism. The country in those days
still dark with noble wood and umbrage; How the old trees
gradually died out, no man heeding it. Monachism itself, so rich
and fruitful once, now all rotted into _peat._ Devastations of
four-footed cattle and Henry-the-Eighths.

Chap. XII. _The Abbot's Troubles_

The troubles of Abbot Samson more than tongue can tell. Not the
spoil of victory, only the glorious toil of battle, can be theirs
who really govern. An insurrection of the Monks: Behave better,
ye remiss Monks, and thank Heaven for such an Abbot. Worn down
with incessant toil and tribulation: Gleams of hilarity too;
little snatches of encouragement granted even to a Governor. How
my Lord of Clare, coming to claim his _un_due 'debt,' gets a
Roland for his Oliver. A Life of Literature, noble and ignoble.

Chap. XIII. _In Parliament_

Confused days of Lackland's usurpation, while Coeur-de-Lion was
away: Our brave Abbot took helmet himself, excommunicating all
who should favour Lackland. Kind Richard a captive in Germany.
St. Edmund's Shrine not meddled with: A heavenly Awe
overshadowed and encompassed, as it still ought and must, all
earthly Business whatsoever.

Chap. XIV. _Henry of Essex_

How St. Edmund punished terribly, yet with mercy; A Naratice
significant of the time. Henry Earl of Essex, standard-bearer of
England: No right reverence for the Heavenly in Man. A traitor
or coward. Solemn Duel, by the King's appointment. An evil
Conscience doth make cowards of us all.

Chap. XV. _Practical-Devotional_

A Tournament proclaimed and held in the Abbot's domain, in spite
of him. Roystering young dogs brought to reason. The Abbot a
man that generally remains master at last: The importunate
Bishop of Ely outwitted. A man that dare abide King Richard's
anger, with justice on his side. Thou brave Richard, thou brave
Samson! The basis of Abbot Samson's life truly religion. His
zealous interest in the Crusades. The great antique heart, like
a child's in its simplicity, like a man's in its earnest
solemnity and depth. His comparative silence as to his religion
precisely the healthiest sign of him and it. Methodism,
dilettantism, Puseyism.

Chap. XVI. _St. Edmund_

Abbot Samson built many useful, many pious edifices: All
ruinous, incomplete things an eye-sorrow to him. Rebuilding the
great Altar: A glimpse of the glorious Martyr's very Body. What
a scene; how far vanished from us, in these unworshipping ages
of ours! The manner of men's Hero-worship, verily the innermost
fact of their existence, determining all the rest. On the whole,
who knows how to reverence the Body of man? Abbot Samson, at the
culminating point of his existence: Our real-phantasmagory of
St. Edmundsbury plunges into the bosom of the Twelfth Century
again, and all is over.

Chap. XVII. _The Beginnings_

Formulas the very skin and muscular tissue of a Man's Life:
Living Formulas and dead. Habit the deepest law of human nature.
A pathway through the pathless. Nationalities. Pulpy infancy,
kneaded, baked into any form you choose: The Man of business;
the hard-handed Labourer; the genus Dandy. No Mortal out of the
depths of Bedlam but lives by Formulas. The hosts and
generations of brave men Oblivion has swallowed: Their crumbled
dust, the soil our life-fruit grows on. Invention of Speech;
Forms of Worship; Methods of Justice. This English Land, here
and now, the summary of what was wise and noble, and accordant
with God's Truth, in all the generations of English Men. The
thing called 'Fame.'

Book III.--The Modern Worker

Chap. I. _Phenomena_

How men have 'forgotten God;' taken the Fact of this Universe as
it is _not;_ God's Laws become a Greatest-happiness Principle, a
Parliamentary Expediency. Man has lost the _soul_ out of him,
and begins to find the want of it. The old Pope of Rome, with
his stuffed dummy to do the kneeling for him. Few men that
worship by the rotatory Calabash, do it in half so great, frank
or effectual a way. Our Aristocracy no longer able to _do_ its
work, and not in the least conscious that it has any work to do.
The Champion of England 'lifted into his saddle.' The hatter in
the Strand, mounting a huge lath-and-plaster Hat. Our noble
ancestors have fashioned for us, in how many thousand sense, a
'life-road;' and we their sons are madly, literally enough,
'consuming the way.'

Chap. II. _Gospel of Mammonism_

Heaven and Hell, often as the words are on our tongue, got to be
fabulous or semi-fabulous for most of us. The real 'Hell' of the
English. Cash-payment, _not_ the sole or even chief relation of
human beings. Practical Atheism, and its despicable fruits. One
of Dr. Alison's melancholy facts: A poor Irish widow, in the
Lanes of Endinburgh, _proving_ her sisterhood. Until we get a
human _soul_ within us, all things are _im_possible: Infatuated
geese, with feathers and without.

Chap. III. _Gospel of Dilettantism_

Mammonism at least works; but 'Go gracefully idle in Mayfair,'
what does or can that mean?--Impotent, insolent Donothingism in
Practice and Saynothingism in Speech. No man now speaks a plain
word: Insincere Speech the prime material of insincere Action.
Moslem parable of Moses and the Dwellers by the Dead sea: The
Universe _become_ a Humbug to the Apes that thought it one.

Chap. IV. _Happy_

All work noble; and every noble crown a crown of thorns. Man's
pitiful pretension to be what he calls "happy;" His Greatest-
Happiness Principle fast becoming a rather unhappy one. Byron's
large audience. A philosophical Doctor: A disconsolate Meat-
jack, gnarring and creaking with rust and work. The only
'happiness' a brave man ever troubled himself much about, the
happiness to get his work done.

Chap. V. _The English_

With all thy theoretic platitudes, what a depth of practical
sense in thee, great England! A dumb people, who can do great
acts, but not describe them. The noble Warhorse, and the Dog of
Knowledge: The freest utterances not by any means the best. The
done Work, much more than the spoken Word, an epitome of the man.
The Man of Practice, and the Man of Theory: Ineloquent Brindley.
The English, of all Nations the stupidest in speech, the wisest
in action: Sadness and seriousness: Unconsciously this great
Universe is great to them. The silent Romans. John Bull's
admirable insensibility to Logic. All great Peoples
conservative. Kind of Ready-Reckoner a Solecism in East-cheap.
Berserkir rage. Truth and Justice alone _capable_ of being
'conserved.' Bitter indignation engendered by the Corn-Laws in
every just English heart.

Chap. VI. _Two Centuries_

The 'Settlement' of the year 1660 one of the mournfulest that
ever took place in this land of ours. The true end of Government
to guide men in the way they should go: The true good of this
life, the portal of infinite good in the life to come. Oliver
Cromwell's body hung on the Tyburn gallows, the type of
Puritanism found futil, inexecutable, execrable. The
Spiritualism of England, for two godless centuries, utterly
forgettable: Her practical material Work alone memorable.
Bewildering obscurations and impediments: Valiant Sons of Toil
enchanted, by the million, in their Poor-Law Bastille. Giant
Labour yet to be King of this Earth.

Chap. VII. _Over-Production_

An idle Governing Class addressing its Workers with an indictment
of 'Over-production.' Duty of justly apportioning the Wages
of Work done. A game-preserving Aristocracy, guiltless of
producing or apportioning anything. Owning the soil of England.
The Working Aristocracy steeped in ignoble Mammonism: The Idle
Aristocracy, with its yellow parchments and pretentious futilities.

Chap. VIII. _Unworking Aristocracy_

Our Land the _Mother_ of us all: No true Aristocracy but must
possess the Land. Men talk of 'selling' Land: Whom it belongs
to. Our much-consuming Aristocracy: By the law of their
position bound to furnish guidance and governance. Man and
miserable Corn-Laws. The Working Aristocracy, and its terrible
New-Work: The Idle Aristocracy, and its horoscope of despair. A
High Class without duties to do, like a tree planted on
precipices. In a valiant suffering for others, not in a slothful
making others suffer for us, did nobleness ever lie. The pagan
Hercules; the Czar of Russia. Parchments, venerable and not
venerable. Benedict the Jew, and his usuries. No Chapter on the
Corn-Laws: The Corn-Laws too mad to have a Chapter.

Chap. IX. _Working Aristocracy_

Many things for the Working Aristocracy, in their exteme need, to
consider. A national Existence supposed to depend on 'selling
cheaper' than any other People. Let inventive men try to invent
a little how cotton at its present cheapness could be somewhat
justlier divided. Many 'imposibilities' will have to become
possible. Supply-and-demand: For what noble work was there ever
yet any audible 'demand' in that poor sense?

Chap. X. _Plugson of Undershot_

Man's Philosophies usually the 'supplement of his practice:'
Symptoms of social death. Cash-Payment: The Plugson Ledger, and
the Tablets of heaven's Chancery, discrepant exceedingly. All
human things do require to have an Ideal in them. How murderous
fighting became a 'glorious Chivalry.' Noble devout-hearted
Chevaliers. Ignoble Bucaniers and Chactaw Indians: Howel
Davies, Napoleon flung out, at last, to St. Helena; the latter
end of him sternly compensating for the beginning. The
indomitable Plugson, as yet a Bacanier and Chactaw. William
Conqueror and his Norman followers. Organisation of Labour:
Courage, there are yet many brave men in England!

Chap. XI. _Labour_

A perennial nobleness and even sacredness in Work. Significance
of the Potter's Wheel. Blessed is he who has found his Work;
let him ask no other blessedness. A brave Sir Christopher, and
his Paul's Cathedral: Every noble work at first 'impossible.'
Columbus royalest Sea-king of all: a depth of Silence, deeper
than the Sea; a silence unsoundable; known to God only.

Chap. XII. _Reward_

Work is worship: Labour, wide as the earth, has its summit in
Heaven. One monster there is in the world, the idle man. 'Fair
day's-wages for a fair day's-work,' the most unrefusable demand.
The 'wages' of every noble Work in Heaven, or else Nowhere: The
brave man has to _give_ his Life away. He that works bodies
forth the form of Things Unseen. Strange mystic affinity of
Wisdom and Insanity: All Work, in its degree, a making of
Madness sane. Labour not a devil, even when encased in
Mammonism: The unredeemed ugliness, a slothful People. The
vulgarist Plugson of a Master-Worker, not a man to strangle by
Corn-Laws and Shotbelts.

Chap. XIII. _Democracy_

Man must actually have his debts and earnings a little better
paid by man. At no time was the lot of the dumb millions of
toilers so entirely unbearable as now. Sisterhood, brotherhood
often forgotten, but never before so expressly denied. Mungo
Park and his poor Black Benefactress. Gurth, born thrall of
Cedric the Saxon: Liberty a divine thing; but 'liberty to die
by starvation' not so divine. Nature's Aristocracies. William
Conqueror, a resident House-Surgeon provided by nature for her
beloved English People. Democracy, the despair of finding Heroes
to govern us, and contented putting-up with the want of them.
The very Tailor unconsciously symbolising the reign of Equality.
Wherever ranks do actually exist, strict division of costumes
will also be enforced. Freedom from oppression, an indispensable
yet most insignificant portion of Human Liberty. A _best path_
does exist for every man; a thing which, here and now, it
were of all things _wisest_ for him to do. Mock Superiors and
Real Superiors.

Chap. XIV. _Sir Jabesh Windbag_

Oliver Cromwell, the remarkablest Governor we have had for the
last five centuries or so: No vulunteer in Public Life, but
plainly a balloted soldier: The Government of England put into
his hands. Windbag, weak in the faith of a God; strong only in
the faith that Paragraphs and Plausibilities bring votes. Five
years of popularity or unpopularity; and _after_ those five
years, an Eternity. Oliver has to appear before the Most High
Judge: Windbag, appealing to 'Posterity.'

Chap. XV. _Morison Again_

New Religions: This new stage of progress, proceeding 'to invent
God,' a very strange one indeed. Religion, the Inner Light or
Moral Conscience of a man's soul. Infinite difference between a
Good man and a Bad. The Great soul of the World, just and not
unjust: Faithful, unspoken, but not ineffectual 'prayer.'
Penalities: The French Revolution; cruelest Portent that has
risen into created Space these ten centuries. Man needs no "New
Religion;" nor is like to get it: spiritual Dastardism, and
sick folly. One Liturgy which does remain forever
unexceptionable, that of _Praying by Working._ Sauerteig on the
symbolic influences of Washing. Chinese Pontiff-Emperor and his
significant 'punctualities.' Goethe and German Literature. The
great event for the world, now as always, the arrival in it of a
new Wise Man. Goethe's _Mason-Lodge._

Book IV.--Horoscope

Chap. I. _Aristocracies_

To predict the Future, to manage the Present, would not be so
impossible, had not the Past been so sacrilegiously mishandled:
a godless century, looking back to centuries that were godly. A
new real Aristocracy and Priesthood. The noble Priest always a
noble _Aristos_ to begin with, and something more to end with.
Modern Preachers, and the _real_ Satanas that now is. Abbot-
Samson and William-Conqueror times. The mission of a Land
Aristocracy a _sacred_ one, in both senses of that old word.
Truly a 'Splendor of God' did dwell in those old rude veracious
ages. Old Anselm traveling to Rome, to appeal against King
Rufus. Their quarrel at bottom a great quarrel. The boundless
future, predestined, nay already extant though unseen. Our
Epic, not _Arms and the Man,_ but _Tools and the Man;_ an
infinitely wider kind of Epic. Important that our grand
Reformation were begun.

Chap. II. _Bribery Committee_

Our theory, perfect purity of Tenpound Franchise; our practice,
irremediable bribery. Bribery, indicative not only of length of
purse, but of brazen dishonesty: Proposed improvements. A
parliament, starting with a lie in its mouth, promulgates strage
horoscopes of itself. Respect paid to those worthy of no
respect: Pandarus Dogdraught. The indigent discerning Freeman;
and the kind of men he is called upon to vote for.

Chap. III. _The One Institution_

The 'Organisation of Labour,' if well understood, the Problem of
the whole Future. Governments of various degrees of utility.
Kilkenny Cats; spinning-Dervishes; Parliamentary eloquence. A
prime-Minister who would dare believe the heavenly omens. Who
can despair of Governments, that passes a Soldier's Guardhouse?--
Incalculable what, by arranging, commanding and regimenting, can
be made of men. Organisms enough in the dim huge Future; and
'United Services' quite other than the red-coat one. Legislative
interference between Workers and master-Workers increasingly
indispensable. Sanitary Reform: People's Parks: A right
Education Bill, and effective Teaching Service. Free bridge for
emigrants: England's sure markets among her colonies. London
the _All-Saxon-Home,_ rendezvous of all the 'Children of the
Harz-Rock.' The English essentially conservative: Always the
invincible instinct to hold fast by the Old, to admit the
_minimum_ of New. Yet new epochs do actually come; and
with them new peremptory necessities. A certain Editor's
stipulated work.

Chap. IV. _Captains of Industry_

Government can do much, but it can in nowise do all. Fall of
Mammon: to be a noble Master among noble Workers, will again be
the first ambition with some few. The Leaders of Industry,
virtually the Captains of the world: doggeries and Chivalries.
Isolation, the sum-total of wretchedness to man. All social
growths in the world have required organising; and work, the
grandest of human interests, does now require it.

Chap. V. _Permanence_

The 'tendency to persevere,' to persist in spite of hindrances,
discouragements and 'impossibilities,' that which distinguishes
the Species Man from the Genus Ape. Month-long contracts, and
Exeter-Hall purblindness. A practical manufacturing Quaker's care
for his workmen. Blessing of permanent Contract: Permanence in
all things, at the earliest possible moment, and to the latest
possible. Vagrant Sam-Slicks. The wealth of a man the number of
things he loves and blesses, which he is loved and blessed by.
The Worker's _interest_ in the enterprise with which he is
connected. How to reconcile Despotism with Freedom.

Chap. VI. _The Landed_

A man with fifty, with five hundred, with a thousand pounds a
day, given him freely, without condition at all, might be a
rather strong Worker: The sad reality, very ominous to look at.
Will he awaken, be alive again; or is this death-fit very
death?--Goeth's Duke of Weimar. Doom of Idleness. To sit idle
aloft, like absurd Epicurus'-gods, a poor life for a man.
Independence 'lord of the lion-heart and eagle-eye:' Rejection
of sham Superiors, the needful preparation for obedience to
_real_ Superiors.

Chap. VII _The gifted_

Tumultuous anarchy calmed by noble effort into fruitful
sovereignty. Mammon, like Fire, the usefulest of servants, if
the frightfulest of masters. Souls to whom the omnipotent guinea
is, on the whole, an impotent guinea: Not a May-game is this
man's life; but a battle and stern pilgrimage: God's justice,
human Nobleness, Veracity and Mercy, the essence of his very
being. What a man of Genius is. The Highest 'Man of Genius.'
Genius, the clearer presence of God Most High in a man. Of
intrinsic Valetism you cannot, with whole Parliaments to help
you, make a heroism.

Chap. VIII. _The Didactic_

One preacher who does preach with effect, and gradually persuade
all persons. Repentant Captains of Industry: A Chactaw Fighter
becomes a Christian Fighter. Doomsday in the afternoon. The
'Christianity' that cannot get on without a minimum of Four-
thousand-five-hundred, will give place to something better that
can. Beautiful to see the brutish empire of Mammon cracking
everywhere: A strange, chill, almost ghastly dayspring in
Yankeeland itself. Here as there, Light is coming into the
world. Whoso believes, let him begin to fulfil: 'Impossible,'
where Truth and Mercy and the everlasting Voice of Nature order,
can have no place in the brave man's dictionary. Not on Ilion's
or Latium's plains; on far other plains and places henceforth
can noble deeds be done. The last Partridge of England shot and
ended: Aristocracies with beards on their chins. O, it is
great, and there is no other greatness: To make some nook of
god's Creation a little fruitfuler; to make some human hearts a
little wiser, manfuler, happier: It is work for a God!