you on the morning of
it! Chelsea Hospitals, pensions, promotions, rigorous lasting covenant
on the one side and on the other, are indispensable even for a hired
fighter. The Feudal Baron, much more,--how could he subsist with mere
temporary mercenaries round him, at sixpence a day; ready to go over
to the other side, if sevenpence were offered? He could not have
subsisted;--and his noble instinct saved him from the necessity of
even trying! The Feudal Baron had a Man's Soul in him; to which
anarchy, mutiny, and the other fruits of temporary mercenaries, were
intolerable: he had never been a Baron otherwise, but had continued a
Chactaw and Bucanier. He felt it precious, and at last it became
habitual, and his fruitful enlarged existence included it as a
necessity, to have men round him who in heart loved him; whose life he
watched over with rigour yet with love; who were prepared to give
their life for him, if need came. It was beautiful; it was human! Man
lives not otherwise, nor can live contented, anywhere or any-when.
Isolation is the sum-total of wretchedness to man. To be cut off, to
be left solitary: to have a world alien, not your world; all a hostile
camp for you; not a home at all, of hearts and faces who are yours,
whose you are! It is the frightfulest enchantment; too truly a work of
the Evil One. To have neither superior, nor inferior, nor equal,
united manlike to you. Without father, without child, without brother.
Man knows no sadder destiny. 'How is each of us,' exclaims Jean Paul,
'so lonely in the wide bosom of the All!' Encased each as in his
transparent 'ice-palace;' our brother visible in his, making signals
and gesticulations to us;--visible, but forever unattainable: on his
bosom we shall never rest, nor he on ours. It was not a God that did
this; no!

Awake, ye noble Workers, warriors in the one true war: all this must
be remedied. It is you who are already half-alive, whom I will welcome
into life; whom I will conjure, in God's name, to shake off your
enchanted sleep, and live wholly! Cease to count scalps, gold-purses;
not in these lies your or our salvation. Even these, if you count only
these, will not long be left. Let bucaniering be put far from you;
alter, speedily abrogate all laws of the bucaniers, if you would gain
any victory that shall endure. Let God's justice, let pity, nobleness
and manly valour, with more gold-purses or with fewer, testify
themselves in this your brief Life-trans