“I cannot convince you, Mr. Maraton,” he went on, “that yours is not a splendid dream, an idyllic vision, which would fade from the canvas before even the colours were dry, but you have common sense, and I hope at least I can persuade you to see this.  You won’t rally the working men of England to your standard under that motto.  That’s why their leaders are ignorant and commonplace men.  They know very well that it’s to the pockets of their hearers they must appeal.  A shilling a week more now is what they want, not to have their children born to a better life, and their children’s children move on the upward plane.  Human nature isn’t like that, especially the human nature which I admit has suffered from the selfishness and greediness of the middle classes through all these years.  The people aren’t ready to dream dreams.  They want money in their pockets, cash, so much a week—­nothing else.  I tell you that self-interest is before the eyes of every one of those Lancashire operatives to whom you are going to speak.  An hour or so less work a week, an ounce more of tobacco, a glass of beer when he feels inclined, a little more money in the bank—­that’s what he wants.”

“You may be speaking the truth, Mr. Foley,” Maraton confessed quietly.  “At any rate, you have voiced some of my deepest fears.  I know that I cannot bring the people to my standard by showing them the whole of my mind.  But why should I?  If I know that my cause is just, if I know that it is for the good of the world, isn’t it my duty to conceal as much as I find it wise to conceal, to keep my hand to the plough, even though I drive it through the fields of devastation?”

“Then your mission is not an honest one,” Lord Armley declared suddenly.  “It is dishonest that good things may come of it.”

“It is possible to reason like that,” Maraton admitted.

“Now, listen,” Mr. Foley continued.  “I will show you the other way.  I will look with you into the future.  I cannot agree with all your views but I, too, would like to see the diminution of capital from the hands of the manufacturers and the middle classes, and an increase of prosperity to the operatives.  I would like to see the gulf between them narrowed year by year.  I would like to see the working man everywhere established in quarters where life is wholesome and pleasant.  I would like to see his schools better, even, than they are at present.  I would like to see him, in the years to come, a stronger, a more capable, a more dignified unit of the Empire.  He can only be made so by prosperity.  Therefore, I wish for him prosperity.  You want to sow the country red with ruin and fire, and there isn’t any man breathing, not even you, can tell exactly what the outcome of it all might be.  I want to work at the same thing more gently.  Last year for the first time, I passed a Bill in Parliament which interfered between the relations of master and man.  In a certain trade dispute I compelled the