"It's true. Twenty years ago we had the ideal of the lawyer, of the doctor, of the statesman, of the gentleman, of the man of letters, of the soldier. Now the lawyer is simply a supernumerary enlisting under any banner for pay; the doctor is overshadowed by the specialist with his business development of the possibilities of the rich; we have politicians, and politics are deemed impossible for a gentleman; the gentleman cultured, simple, hospitable, and kind, is of the dying generation; the soldier is simply on parade."
"Wow!" said Ricketts, jingling his chips. "They're off."
"Everything has conformed to business, everything has been made to pay. Art is now a respectable career--to whom? To the business man. Why? Because a profession that is paid $3,000 to $5,000 a portrait is no longer an art, but a blamed good business. The man who cooks up his novel according to the weakness of his public sells a hundred thousand copies. Dime novel? No; published by our most conservative publishers--one of our leading citizens. He has found out that scribbling is a new field of business. He has convinced the business man. He has made it pay."
"Three cards," said Swazey's voice. "Well, Brocky, what's your remedy?"
"A smashing war every ten years," said Brockhurst shortly.
"Why, you bloody butcher," said Regan, who did not seize the idea, while from the card-table came the chorus:
"And why a war?" said Pike, beginning to take notice.
"A war has two positive advantages," said Brockhurst. "It teaches discipline and obedience, which we profoundly need, and it holds up a great ideal, the ideal of heroism, of sacrifice for an ideal. In times of war young men such as we are are inspired by the figures of military leaders, and their imaginations are stirred to noble desires by the word 'country.' Nowadays what is held up to us? Go out--succeed--make money."
"That's true, a good deal true," said Regan abruptly. "And the only remedy, the only way to fight the business deal, is to interest young men in politics, to make them feel that there are the new battle-fields."
"Now Tom's in it," said Lake, threshing the cards through his fingers. At the card-table the players began to listen, motioning with silent gestures.