LIFE'S TRAGEDY
It often happens that people die
At the hand of that they loved the best;
One who loves horses all his days
By a horse's hoof is laid to rest!
The swimmer who loves on the waves to lie
Is caught in the swell of a passing boat,
And the thing he loves breaks over his head
And chokes the breath from his gasping throat.
And the Christ who loved all men so well
That he came to earth their friend to be,
By one was denied, by one betrayed,
By others nailed to the cursèd tree!
And more and more I seem to see
That Love is the world's great Tragedy!
Love is a terrible thing--quite different from amiability, which is
sometimes confused with it. Amiability will never cause people to do
hard things, but love will tear the heart to pieces!
It was because the people of Belgium loved their country that they
chose to suffer all things rather than have her good name tarnished
among the nations of the earth. It has been for love, love of fair
play, love of British traditions, that Canada has sent nearly four
hundred thousand men across the sea to fight against the powers of
darkness. Canada has nothing to gain in this struggle, in a material
way, as a nation, and even less has there been any chance of gain to
the individual who answered the call. There are many things that may
happen to the soldier after he has put on the uniform, but sudden
riches is not among them.
Some of the men, whose love of country made them give up all and
follow the gleam, have come back to us now, and on pleasant afternoons
may be seen sitting on the balconies of the Convalescent Homes or
perhaps being wheeled in chairs by their more fortunate companions.
Their neighbors, who had an amiable feeling for the country instead of
love, and who therefore stayed at home, are very sorry for these
broken men, and sometimes, when the day is fine, they take the
"returned men" out in their big cars for a ride!
There are spiritual and moral dead-beats in every community who get
through life easily by following a "safety-first" plan in everything,
who keep close to the line of "low visibility," which means, "Keep
your head down or you may get hit"; who allow others to do the
fighting and bear all the criticism, and then are not even gracious
enough to acknowledge the unearned benefits. The most popular man in
every community is the one who has never taken a stand on any moral
question; who has never loved anything well enough to fight for it;
who is broad-minded and tolerant--because he does not care....
Amiability fattens, but love kills!
Amiable patriots at the present time talk quite cheerfully of the
conscription of life, but say little of the conscription of wealth,
declaring quite truthfully that wealth will never win the war! Neither
will men! It will take both, and all we have, too, I am afraid. Surely
if the government feels that it can ask one man for his life, it need
not be so diffident about asking another man for his wealth. The
conscription of wealth might well begin with placing all articles of
food and clothing on the free list and levying a direct tax on all
land values. Then, if all profits from war-supplies were turned over
to the government, there would be money enough to pay a fair allowance
to our soldiers and their dependents. It does not seem fair that the
soldier should bear all the sacrifices of hardship and danger, and
then have the additional one of poverty for his family and the
prospect of it for himself, when he comes back unfit for his former
occupation. Hardship and danger for the soldier are inevitable, but
poverty is not. The honest conscription of wealth would make it
possible for all who serve the Empire to have an assurance of a decent
living as long as they live.
If equal pay were given to every man, whether he is a private or a
major, equal pensions to every soldier's widow, and if all political
preference were eliminated, as it would have to be under this system;
when all service is put on the same basis and one man's life counts as
much as another's, there would be no need of compulsion to fill the
ranks of the Canadian army. We know that there never can be equality
of service--the soldier will always bear the heavy burden, and no
money can ever pay him for what he does; but we must not take refuge
behind that statement to let him bear the burdens which belong to the
people who stay at home.
Heroism is contagious. It becomes easier when every one is practicing
it. What we need now, more than anything, are big, strong, heroic
leaders, men of moral passion, who will show us the hard path of
sacrifice, not asking us to do what they are not willing to do
themselves; not pointing the way, but traveling in it; men of heroic
mould who will say, "If my right eye offend me, I will pluck it out";
men who are willing to go down to political death if the country can
be saved by that sacrifice. We need men at home who are as brave as
the boys in the trenches, who risk their lives every day in a dozen
different ways, without a trace of self-applause, who have laid all
their equipment on the altar of sacrifice; who "carry on" when all
seems hopeless; who stand up to death unflinchingly, and at the last,
ask only, that their faces may be turned to the West!--to Canada!
We have always had plenty of amiability, but in this terrible time it
will not do. Our country is calling for love.