be marked inequalities of fortune, while, in ten years, there would be millionaires at one end of the scale and beggars at the other. This, we believe, is what many object to, though they do not always avow it to themselves. The cry seems to go up from the multitude, "Save us from the strong man, or we shall take the law into our own hands and make an end of his wealth, if not of him!" The common idea of the capitalist is that he is a man who absorbs into his own personality and possessions all the richest juices of the laboring man's organization. The working-man toils, and the capitalist reaps all the best fruits of his toil, leaving to the former a mere subsistence, and a more or less precarious one at that. A fact, however, that is generally lost sight of is that, but for the capitalist, labor would not be so productive as it is. The share taken by the capitalist is not deducted from a total product which would equally have existed had he never appeared upon the scene with his experience, his talent for direction, his enterprise, his pecuniary resources, but from a product in large part probably due to his personal usefulness. What an army under a skillful general, and with a well-supplied commissariat, can accomplish, is something very different from what it can accomplish without any superior leadership. This obvious truth should certainly be taken into account in striking the balance between the capitalist and those whose labor he employs.
If, then, the secret aspiration of the laboring class, or at least of a large portion of it, is, to be protected against the competition of men of subtiler brains and stronger resolution, the question may be asked, What is the secret thought of the capitalist class, the men who have these superior resources, or whose fathers had them, and who consequently rule in the industrial world? If it is true that labor would not be so productive as it is, that wealth would not be created in the same quantity, but for the organizing power of the captains of industry, it is also true that all wealth is a social product, requiring a concurrence of efforts to produce it, and a social medium to give it its value. What would the wealth of the Indies have been to Robinson Crusoe on his desert isle? His man Friday was a greater fortune to him than would have been the riches of the Rothschilds. These considerations suffice to show that, in whatever light the holders of great wealth may regard themselves, they should regard themselves not as mere irresponsible giants of finance, at liberty to toss about millions as it may please their vanity or their ambition, but as bound to lives of social usefulness. The secret thought, we fear, of too many very rich men is, that they are absolutely irresponsible to society, and quite at liberty to dismiss from their minds every other aim than that of adding to their already great possessions. Their secret prayer would be, to be delivered from all bondage to public opinion, so that they might pursue an unchecked career in gratifying their selfish ambition. Cripple or debauch public opinion, and the watering of stocks, the making of corners, and all the rest of the diabolical jugglery of the modern financial world can be carried on without apprehension, as without a qualm. But public opinion, we trust, is not going to be permanently crippled or debauched. True, there is an altogether inordinate social admiration of great wealth, as Mr. Spencer has forcibly pointed out; but the feeling, on the whole, is growing, that great wealth means proportionate social responsibility. It is not to be concluded from this that the chief business of the capitalist is to endow hospitals, libraries, or universities. By no means; it is well that every one in the community should contribute to these things according to his ability, and realize for himself the blessedness
