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that clangorous melody of the smiths. His tide of doubt ebbed. He heard
the giant voices; he heard their movements about him still. It was real,
surely it was real--as real as spiteful acts! More real, for these great
things, it may be, are the coming things, and the littleness,
bestiality, and infirmity of men are the things that go. He opened his
eyes. "Done," cried one of the two ironworkers, and they flung their
hammers down.
A voice sounded above. The son of Cossar, standing on the great
embankment, had turned and was now speaking to them all.
"It is not that we would oust the little people from the world," he
said, "in order that we, who are no more than one step upwards from
their littleness, may hold their world for ever. It is the step we fight
for and not ourselves.... We are here, Brothers, to what end? To serve
the spirit and the purpose that has been breathed into our lives. We
fight not for ourselves--for we are but the momentary hands and eyes of
the Life of the World. So you, Father Redwood, taught us. Through us and
through the little folk the Spirit looks and learns. From us by word and
birth and act it must pass--to still greater lives. This earth is no
resting place; this earth is no playing place, else indeed we might put
our throats to the little people's knife, having no greater right to
live than they. And they in their turn might yield to the ants and
vermin. We fight not for ourselves but for growth--growth that goes on
for ever. To-morrow, whether we live or die, growth will conquer through
us. That is the law of the spirit for ever more. To grow according to
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