The instinctive recognition of an attack on the ideal is alive and
vigilant in all three. The sympathy that binds them is ardent, deep and
enduring. Observe them come together. Note the warm hand grasp, the
drawn face of one, a hard-worker; of another, the eye anxious for a
brother hard pressed; of the third, the eye glistening for the ideal
triumphant; of all the intimate confidence, the mutual encouragement and
self-sacrifice, never a note of despair, but always the exultation of
the Great Fight, and the promise of a great victory. This is a finer
company than a mere casual alliance; yet it makes the uninspired pause,
wondering and questioning. These men are earnest men of different
creeds; still they are as intimately bound to one another as if they
knelt at the one altar. In the narrow view the creeds should be at one
another's throats; here they are marching shoulder to shoulder. How is
this? And the one whose creed is the most exacting could, perhaps, give
the best reply. He would reply that within the sphere in which they work
together the true thing that unites them can be done only the one right
way; that instinctively seizing this right way they come together; that
this is the line of advance to wider and deeper things that are his
inspiration and his life; that if a comrade is roused to action by the
nearer task, and labours bravely and rightly for it, he is on the road
to widening vistas in his dream that now he may not see.
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