bour organizations everywhere shall change and shall be infected with
a new spirit; and labouring men, instead of going to their shops the
world over, to spend nine hours a day in fighting the business in which
they are engaged, to spend nine hours a day in trying to get themselves
nothing to do, nine hours a day in getting nobody to want to employ
them, will work the way they would like to work, and the way they would
all work to-morrow morning if they knew the things about capital and
about labour that they have a right to know, and that only incompetent
employers and incompetent labor leaders year by year have kept them from
knowing.

CHAPTER VI

AN OPENING FOR THE NEXT PIERPONT MORGAN

Christ said once, "He that is greatest among you let him be your
servant."

Most people have taken it as if He had said:

"He that is greatest among you let him be your valet.

"He that is greatest among you let him be your butler.

"He that is greatest among you let him be your hostler, porter,
footman."

They cling to a mediaeval Morality-Play, Servant-in-the-House idea, a
kind of head-waiter idea of what Christ meant.

This seems to some of us a literal-minded, Western way of interpreting
an Oriental metaphor. We do not believe that Christ meant servanthood.
It seems to us that He meant something deeper, that He meant service;
that He might have said as well:

"He that is greatest among you let him be your Duke of Wellington.

"He that is greatest among you let him be your Lincoln.

"He that is greatest among you let him be your Edison, your Marconi."

At all events, it is extremely unlikely that He meant looking and acting
like a servant.

He meant really being one, whether one looked like a servant or not. If
looking independent and being independent makes the service better, if
defying the appearance of a servant makes the service more efficient, we
believe the appearance should be defied.

It troubles us when we see the Czar of Russia in the presence of the
civilized world, once a year taking such great pains to look like a
servant and to wash his peasants' feet.

We are not willing, if we ever have any relations with the public, to be
Czars and look like servants.

We would prefer to look like czars and be servants.

We are inclined to believe that no man who is rendering his utmost
service to the crowd ever thinks in the ordinary servant sense of being
obedient to it. He is thinking of his servi