s of
capitalists and labourers so that they see something that gives them
courage for themselves and for one another, and courage for the world.

The world belongs to the men of vision--the men who are not afraid--the
men who see things that they have made up their minds to get.

Who are the men to-day, in all walks of life, who want the most things
for the most people, and who have made up their minds to get them?

There is just one man we will follow to-day--those of us who belong to
the crowd--the man who is alive all over, who is deeply and gloriously
covetous, the man who sees things he wants for himself, and who
therefore has courage for himself, and who sees things he wants and is
bound to get for other people, and who therefore has courage for other
people.

This is the hardest kind of courage to have--courage for other people.

CHAPTER XII

THE MEN WHO WANT THINGS

During the coal strike I took up my morning paper and read from a speech
by Vernon Hartshorn, the miners' leader: "In a week's time, by tying up
the railways and other means of transportation, we could so paralyze the
country that the government would come to us on their knees and beg us
to go to work on terms they are now flouting as impossible."

During the dockers' strike I took up my morning paper and read Ben
Tillett's speech, at the meeting the day before, to fifty thousand
strikers on Tower Hill. "'I am going to ask you to join me in a prayer,'
Tillett said. 'Lord Devonport has contributed to the murder, by
starvation, of your children, your women, and your men. I am not going
to ask you to do it, but I am going to call on God to strike Lord
Devonport dead,' He asked those who were prepared to repeat the 'prayer'
to hold up their hands. Countless hands were held up, and cries: 'Strike
him doubly stone dead!' The men then repeated the following 'prayer',
word for word, after Tillett:

"'O God, strike Lord Devonport dead.'

"Afterward the strikers chanted the words: 'He shall die! He shall
die!'"

There are times when it is very hard to have courage for other people.

It is when one watches people doing cowardly things that one finds it
hardest to have courage for them.

I felt the same way both mornings at first when I held my paper in my
hand and thought about what I had read, about the government's going
down on its knees, and about God's striking Lord Devonport dead.

The first feeling was one of profound resentm