aced you to her side, and are
assured that when she leaves you sheathed in darkness, there is no need
for your flash to the sun. But remember, good and noble as this state
may be, it is a state of slavery. There are different kinds of slaves
and different masters. Some slaves are scourged to their work by whips,
others are scourged to it by restlessness or ambition. It does not
matter what the whip is; it is none the less a whip, because you have
cut thongs for it out of your own souls: the fact, so far, of slavery,
is in being driven to your work without thought, at another's bidding.
Again, some slaves are bought with money, and others with praise. It
matters not what the purchase-money is. The distinguishing sign of
slavery is to have a price, and be bought for it. Again, it matters not
what kind of work you are set on; some slaves are set to forced
diggings, others to forced marches; some dig furrows, others
field-works, and others graves. Some press the juice of reeds, and some
the juice of vines, and some the blood of men. The fact of the captivity
is the same whatever work we are set upon, though the fruits of the toil
may be different. But, remember, in thus vowing ourselves to be the
slaves of any master, it ought to be some subject of forethought with
us, what work he is likely to put us upon. You may think that the whole
duty of a soldier is to be passive, that it is the country you have left
behind who is to command, and you have only to obey. But are you sure
that you have left _all_ your country behind, or that the part of it you
have so left is indeed the best part of it? Suppose--and, remember, it
is quite conceivable--that you yourselves are indeed the best part of
England; that you who have become the slaves, ought to have been the
masters; and that those who are the masters, ought to have been the
slaves! If it is a noble and whole-hearted England, whose bidding you
are bound to do, it is well; but if you are yourselves the best of her
heart, and the England you have left be but a half-hearted England, how
say you of your obedience? You were too proud to become shopkeepers: are
you satisfied then to become the servants of shopkeepers? You were too
proud to become merchants or farmers yourselves: will you have merchants
or farmers then for your field marshals? You had no gifts of special
grace for Exeter Hall: will you have some gifted person thereat for your
commander-in-chief, to judge of your work, an