despite of his own scripture; "I will join railway to railway. I will
juggle into my own hands all the instruments for the production of
wealth that I can lay hold of; and I will use them for myself against
the producer and the consumer. I will enrich myself by 'corners' on the
necessaries of life; I will make food dear for the poor, that I myself
may roll in needless luxury. I will monopolise whatever I can seize, and
the people may eat straw." That temper, too, humanity must outlive. And
those who can't outlive it of themselves, or be warned in time, must be
taught by stern lessons that their race has outstripped them.

As for slavery, 'tis now gone. That was the vilest of them all. It was
the naked assertion of the Monopolist platform: "You live, not for
yourself, but wholly and solely for me. I disregard your life entirely,
and use you as my chattel." It died at last of the moral indignation of
humanity. It died when a Southern court of so-called justice formulated
in plain words the underlying principle of its hateful creed: "A black
man has no rights which a white man is bound to respect." That finally
finished it. We no longer allow every man to "wallop his own nigger."
And though the last relics of it die hard in Queensland, South Africa,
Demerara, we have at least the satisfaction of knowing that one
Monopolist Instinct out of the group is pretty well bred out of us.

Except as regards women! There, it lingers still. The Man says even now
to himself:--"This woman is mine. If she ventures to have a heart or a
will of her own, woe betide her! I have tabooed her for life; let any
other man touch her, let her look at any other man--and--knife,
revolver, or law court, they shall both of them answer for it!" There
you have in all its natural ugliness another Monopolist Instinct--the
deepest-seated of all, the vilest, the most barbaric. She is not yours:
she is her own: unhand her! The Turk takes his offending slave, sews her