aeroplane, awaits him who disturbs the "peace"—for such is this state of affairs commonly and comically called.
Thus we are learning slowly, and very, very painfully. Our masters have long taught us the lesson of humility, but now they have set us the example of quite another creed. We see them ready to sacrifice countless lives, to secure the success of their well laid plans, and by the side of their efforts our little timid movements seem shamefully small, even as their purpose seems mean and petty beside ours.
Inspired by great ideals, our plan of action should be worthy of them, we should organize, and fight on as bold and brave a scale as they.
It is not intellect, but courage that we lack. They are no more wise than we. The policy of the politician everywhere is to increase the size and influence of his country for the benefit of big financiers, and as there is but one planet to divide between them, it follows that each nation can grow only at the expense of another. It needs little intellect to grasp that fact. The politician understands it, and beyond that he uses his intellect no further, but simply accumulates strength to fight.
The scheme by which a small group in every country are made the owners of all things, while the remainder who are forced to work are allowed from their masters' warehouses less than enough to go round is, similarly, not intellectually brilliant, but it is audacious, and it is backed by force.
If now we turn to the workers' plan of action and draw it up boldly without fearing to destroy old ideas as ruthless as the master class can destroy life and wealth, if we cast aside our humility and timidity, we shall find that our plan of action is so simple, and so plain and obvious that the meanest among us, if he has courage enough, certainly has intellect enough to understand it.
