Your incomes turn the key in the door. How can they get out? Your world is for the cabins. There are no boats for the steerage. The boats are for those who live without working not for those who work without living. No poor man has a right to live. Existing should satisfy him. This is not a world of live and let live. It's a world of live and let die. The heroes own the world that the people make. It takes time to be a hero. People have no time. They must work. How could the heroes be heroes if the people stopped working? So the people are not heroes. They're only men and women. They dont ornament the world. They just feed it. They just nurse it along through its sicknesses. They just do everything. Men and women are the ground the heroes walk over. They are the treasure all the incomes are drawn from. They are the ragtag and bobtail who are everything and count for nothing. The heroes got the band playing. No band plays for men and women. A princess in England had a baby. Parliament was about to congratulate her. Keir Hardie said: Yes, do it. But he also said: Let's condole with the widows and children of the miners who were blown to death to-day. Hardie had no taste. They all told him so. The papers told him so. And the em pees. And the priests of the church. And scholars in colleges. They agreed that Hardie had no sense of decorum. For they were congratulating a hero. A princess mother. But he was only condoling with men and women. What do a hundred mere men miners amount to compared with one titled baby hero? This world is not made for men and women. It's made for heroes. It's true it's made by men and women. But that's no matter. Making a world is one thing. I can see that. Letting the fellow who didn't make it possess himself of it. Dont you see that's another thing? Resisting his invasion would be treason. Every man can see that too. Dont you see it? If you fight for what dont belong to you you are a hero. If you fight for what does belong to you you are a coward. How could a bricklayer be a hero? Why, the very word is against it. Bricklayer. How could such a word describe a hero? But gentleman. Ah! that's a word now. That's the real thing. It's natural for a gentleman to be a hero. But no man could accomplish such a distinction. A man would first have to become a gentleman before he could in turn become a hero. So the men have given it up. And the women. They take a back seat. They retire before the grandeur of an impossible reputation. They just keep on doing what they have always done. They keep on working and dying. They go down in ships. They starve. They get maimed by machinery. They look heavy and stunned. They are stubborn. They make good in their jobs. But they are never mistaken for heroes. No one points them out on the street for heroes. They bob along like ordinary atoms. Like ordinary sunlight. Like ordinary air and water. They are not visited by the great or asked to serve on committees. They just stay ordinary.