If you will think about this a moment (if you will _think_) you will understand how it is that a glossy, well-fed employer often smilingly asserts that “there is prosperity—times are good—no cause for complaint,” and so forth—even tho’ millions of the poor are in sore want. You see _he_ can smile as gently and fraternally as a hyena—_he feels good_; he can smile as long as there is that surplus. That’s his. It’s lovely—for him. Surplus—fascinating surplus. Surplus—for “our very _best_ people.” “... As soon [in the evolution of human industry] as the amount produced began at all to exceed the immediate requirements of life, the struggle commenced for the possession of the surplus. The methods employed were as varied as the human mind was fertile.”[20] Not alone chattel slaves and serfs, but _wage_-slaves also, are used simply, only, _always_, as domesticated _human animals_ to produce a surplus for their masters. Slavery was a surplus game. Serfdom was a surplus game. Capitalism is also a surplus game. By pinching, repressing, restricting the wage-earner’s life the capitalist employer skims off a surplus. By _belittling_ the wage-earner’s life the employer _increases_ his own life—with the surplus _legally_ filched from the life of the wage-earner. The wage-worker, under capitalism, is forced by the lash of threatening starvation, forced by the fear of the bayonet, forced by the threat of the injunction court—is forced to produce a surplus. Besides producing the _equivalent of his wages_ and all other necessary expenses of production the worker is compelled to toil on for weary hours producing for his capitalist employer THIS SURPLUS. (See Note, end of present Chapter.) This surplus is the sacred wafer of the capitalist. This surplus is the capitalist’s heart’s desire. This surplus is the lode-stone, the purpose, the one and only true god of the capitalist class. With this surplus the capitalist pays the capitalist’s “other expenses,” and also pays political party campaign expenses, bribes city councils, state and national legislatures, courts, mayors, governors, and presidents—and precinct captains. With this surplus the capitalist buys fine wine, beautiful automobiles, yachts, opera boxes, and homes—“and so forth.” With this surplus the capitalist pets and protects his parasitic favorites, male and female. This sacred surplus. Sweet and juicy surplus, bubbling, bubbling, ever bubbling up from the well-springs of capitalism—that is, from certain _“sacred” property rights_, the right to own PRIVATELY the industrial FOUNDATIONS OF SOCIETY. Surplus—stolen life—by means of the _wage_-system legally pumped from the veins of the wage-paid toilers. Surplus. Let that word sink deep into your mind. Fasten your eye upon that surplus. Now, notice carefully: First—Part of this surplus the capitalists at present consume personally; Second—Part of this surplus the capitalists invest profitably;