all mankind?

Doubtless he is, and unquestionably through the instrumentality of war
great services have been rendered to the communities of peoples in the
past and noble individual traits of character created. It is an axiom
with us that the universe is so wondrously ordered that out of the
worst things a soul of good may and does emerge, and so goodly is
creation that its very evils become a source wherefrom good may arise.

What was good shall be good with for evil so much good more.

Thus, for example, the young lieutenant ordered to sink a hulk across
the bay of Santiago, and his handful of companions have, by exposing
themselves to imminent risk of an awful death, deeply stirred the
feelings of their fellow-countrymen and filled us all with a sense of
admiration at the heroism which can contemn danger and death in the
execution of duty or the quest of glory. But we must ask whether
humanity is in need of such exhibitions of bravery, whether there are
not other fields of danger which offer tasks equally arduous and
difficult of accomplishment? We are not insensible to the claims of
military or naval heroism, but I confess I see much more to admire in
Father Damien voluntarily surrendering himself to the slow and
loathsome martyrdom of Molokai, more in the self-devotion of our "white
slaves," as they must, alas! be called, who toil all the day and a deal
of the night in a heavy, noisome, almost disease-laden atmosphere in
the disgracefully crowded slums of our great cities, and all to earn a
few pence wherewith to buy just enough bread to keep body and soul
together in themselves and their children. Think of the
matchbox-makers, who turn out a gross for a few halfpence, out of which
they must supply some of their own materials. Think of the
seamstresses, the shirt-makers and tailors' assistants in the veritable
dens of East London, who by slaving for fifteen hours out of
twenty-four can earn eighteenpence a day, out of which four or five
shillings must be paid weekly for rent. Think of these mean, squalid
surroundings in which a life of positively ceaseless toil must be
lived, the patience and long-suffering with which it is endured, the
silent martyrdom of monotonous, unrelieved existence prolonged over
long years. Think of it, I say, and compare it with the intoxication
of the battle-field, the cavalry charge, the roar of cannon and
musketry, the rapid movements and counter-movements, the exultation