{"collection":"philosophy-ethics","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_19432/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_19432","id":"gutenberg_19432","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/19432","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Philosophy & Ethics","Character","Child rearing","Moral education"],"text":"Produced by Kathryn Lybarger, Christine D. and the Online\nDistributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nHEART AND SOUL\n\nBY\n\nMAVERIC POST\n\n[Illustration]\n\n  NEW YORK\n  THE CENTURY CO.\n  1921\n\n\n\n\n  Copyright, 1921, by\n  THE CENTURY CO.\n\n\n\n\nAPOLOGY\n\n\nThis book was not written with any idea of being published, but simply\nbecause I could not help it.\n\nI got thinking about various things, in the lives of people about me,\nand in my own life, and, after a while, I found that my thoughts would\nnot let me alone. They kept coming back, to trouble and haunt me, until\nfinally I realized that the only way I could be rid of them and have a\nlittle peace, was to set them down on paper.\n\nAfter that, I had the indiscretion to read parts of them to one or two\nwho are near to me. These seemed to think that they might prove helpful\nto others who felt the same way and urged me to publish them.\n\nI cannot be blamed very much for conceiving a hope that this might prove\ntrue. And, in that hope, I have followed their advice.\n\n  M.P.\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n\n  CHAPTER                                   PAGE\n\n  I    DIAGNOSIS                               3\n\n  II   THE UP-TO-DATE PRINCIPLE               43\n\n  III  REASON AND EXPERIENCE                  59\n\n  IV   AFFECTION                              83\n\n  V    FAITH                                 109\n\n  VI   SCIENCE AND THE INTELLECT             167\n\n  VII  HOPE                                  221\n\n  VIII HEART AND SOUL                        234\n\n       APPENDIX                              317\n\n\n\n\nHEART AND SOUL\n\n\n\n\nHEART AND SOUL\n\n\n\n\nI\n\nDIAGNOSIS\n\n\nMany of us, to-day, are disturbed and alarmed by the point of view and\nthe behavior of people about us--especially the younger generation.\nGirls of good family are seen on all sides, who smoke and gamble and\ndrink and paint their faces and laugh with scorn at the traditions and\nconventions which their grand-parents regarded with almost sacred\nreverence. The young men are worse, if anything, and as for the married\npeople of the new era, what they are doing to the sanctity of the home\nand the bonds of matrimony might seem like a weird travesty of the\nteachings of the past.\n\nWhat is the world coming to? Are things going on indefinitely, this\nway,--or more so? If not, who, or what, is to stop the movement and turn\nit in another direction? What is the meaning of it all? What is to be\ndone about it?\n\nBefore attempting to speculate on these questions, it might be a good\nidea to consider for a moment the main, fundamental influences which\nhave always been at work, to a greater or less extent, in determining\nthe conduct of human beings.\n\nFirst come the material instincts. Each individual is born with a large\nnumber of desires, appetites, feelings, impulses, tastes. There is also\na natural wish to gratify these and the process of doing so brings with\nit a sense of satisfaction and pleasure. So that if these natural\ninstincts were the only things to be considered, the problem of humanity\nin a general way would resolve itself into preserving life and getting\nas much pleasure out of it as possible. Why not follow the lead of our\ninstincts, accept all opportunities as they come, and make the most of\nthem?\n\nIs not this point of view, however briefly and crudely expressed, the\nfirst principle of existence as it confronts each individual to-day, as\nit has confronted them in the past, and as it will continue to confront\nthem always?\n\nIs it not, in its essence, the starting point--the ever-present raw\nmaterial--which must be recognized and dealt with somehow in any scheme\nof philosophy or morality?\n\nThe next consideration, which follows closely after, is that certain\nwishes cannot be gratified, certain pleasures are forbidden, certain\ninstincts must be repressed or controlled.\n\nWhy?\n\nFor various reasons. The first being force and might. Some one stronger\ninterferes and prevents.\n\nEvery child comes in contact with this principle at an early stage. It\ncannot have what it wants, it cannot do as it wills--because the nurse\nor the mother says \"no.\"\n\nA little later, if it undertakes to gratify a certain wish which has\nbeen forbidden, if it gives free play to an instinct for pleasure,\nagainst orders, it is slapped and scolded. It is made to feel that it\nhas done wrong. And when one does wrong, punishment follows--one must\nlearn to expect that.\n\nThis same principle confronts the individual in later years,--all\nthrough life. First the nurse and mother; then the father and other\nmembers of the family; then the neighbors and people at large; the\npolice and the laws. All these embody the same principle, they represent\ngreater force, without the individual, which interferes with its\ninstincts, its pleasures, its wishes, which forbids certain\nthings--declares they are wrong--and punishes, if they are done.\n\nOn top of this comes the church and religion. In a more exalted way,\nappealing to the imagination and the inner spirit, they nevertheless\napply the same principle. Certain things are sinful and wicked, certain\ninstincts and desires are temptations, contrived by an evil spirit. If\ntemptations are yielded to, if evil is committed, punishment is sure to\nfollow, if not in this world, then in another, a world beyond.\n\nIn this connection, it is not a question of any particular church, or\ncreed, or any particular religion, but simply of the fundamental idea of\nall churches and all religions,--the idea that somewhere, somehow, in a\nspiritual world of some sort, good will be rewarded and evil punished.\n\nCrudely and briefly stated, it is the same fundamental principle that\nbegins with the child and nursemaid, and runs up through the highest\nforms of church and religious appeal. This is good, you are allowed and\nurged to do it, and it will bring reward; that is bad, you are commanded\nto resist it, and if you yield, it will bring punishment.\n\nThis, then, is what we have called the second consideration in the\nproblem of life.\n\nThere is another consideration, of a different order, which exerts an\ninfluence on the acts of an individual; which causes it to repress\ncertain appetites and desires, on the one hand, and urges it, on the\nother hand, to do certain things against its instincts and inclination.\n\nThis third consideration is the influence of reason and experience.\n\nA crude example will suffice to illustrate the principle. A certain\nindividual eats a plate of sliced cucumbers. Their taste is delicious\nand the sensation most enjoyable. An acute indigestion follows, however,\nwith great discomfort and distress. On a later occasion, another plate\nof fresh cucumbers is so tempting that the experiment is tried again,\nwith the same results.\n\nBefore long, this individual will refuse to eat a cucumber, no matter\nhow fresh and tempting it looks. There is no question of right or wrong\nhere involved. There is no outside force or command, to restrain him. It\nis his own reason, based on experience, which determines him to give up\na present pleasure for the sake of avoiding a future pain.\n\nIn a reverse way, a certain individual who is tired and sleepy and\nyearns to go to bed, will force himself to sit up and work over annoying\npapers, in order to be free for a game of golf, the following day. He\ndeliberately denies his desires and accepts present discomfort for the\nsake of future enjoyment.\n\nThis principle, if we look into it carefully and follow it through its\nramifications and side lights, is an active and important factor in the\nconduct of nearly everybody. In its essence, it is personal, its force\nsprings from within the individual--and in that respect, at least, it is\nquite different from the orders of parents, or the commandments of\nreligion, which are issued from without and which the individual is\ncalled upon to accept and obey, irrespective of his own notions or\npreferences.\n\nThere is still another main consideration in this question of conduct.\nIt is a very great factor in the lives of many people, and in some cases\nits force and influence are overwhelming. And it is totally different in\nits very essence and tendency from the other principles we have noted.\n\nThis is the influence of love and affection.\n\nA mother will give up any pleasure, she will accept any pain for the\nsake of her sick child. She does not do it because any one has ordered\nher, or because of any commandment of any religion, or because of any\nreward or punishment in this world, or another. There is no selfish\nmotive of any kind involved in her thought. Any sacrifice of self, she\nis ready to make without the slightest hesitation. What she does, and\nwhat she is willing to do is for her child alone--because she loves it\nand, for the time being, its little life seems of more importance than\neverything else in the world put together.\n\nNow, if we pause right here a moment and reflect we can hardly fail to\nrealize that we are in the presence of something strange and wonderful.\nIt appears to be the very contrary and contradiction of all that has\ngone before. The life of the individual, as it unfolds from the first\nprinciple, is a question of self-preservation, self-gratification,\nappetites, desires, pleasures, as full a measure of enjoyment as it is\npossible to obtain. This is interfered with by outside force and\nconsiderations of reason and experience; certain desires have to be\ncontrolled by the idea of good and bad, reward and punishment; certain\npleasures and pains have to be balanced against each other to determine\na choice. But from beginning to end, it is all concerned in\nconsiderations of advantage--what is best for self, at the time being,\nor in the long run--in this world or the next. Why do this, that, or the\nother? because you will gain most by it, in the end. At bottom, the\nmotive is taken for granted, whether openly admitted or more or less\nthinly disguised--self, self-interest, selfishness.\n\nThen we turn and look upon a mother and her child--and we find that all\nthought of personal advantage can be transferred to another.\nSelf-interest can be controlled and obliterated by a new and mysterious\nprinciple--the principle of love.\n\nThere are various kinds and degrees of feeling that go under the name of\nlove and nothing in life is more interesting or more vitally important\nto study and understand. But in this preliminary summary it is enough to\nsignal its existence as one of the factors in the problem of life.\n\nIt may be just as well to note, in passing, that mothers are to be found\nwhose love for their children is not so completely unselfish. Mothers\nare to be found who care very little about their children. Mothers are\nto be found who regard children as a nuisance and a disadvantage and\nprefer to be without them. That will be found to be one of the curious\nside-lights of the problem when time comes to discuss it.\n\nIt does not alter the fact, however, that love exists, that the true\nmother's love of her child is the most complete and universal\nillustration of it.\n\nAlso in many other forms of love and affection, it is easy to recognize\nthis same tendency toward unselfishness--a readiness to sacrifice one's\npersonal pleasures and inclinations for the joy of another. A father may\nhave this feeling for his son, or his brother, just as he may have it\nfor his wife, or his mother. A man, or a woman, may have it for a dear\nand intimate friend, and be willing to make real sacrifices in order to\nbenefit them.\n\nThis, then, is the fourth consideration--a fourth factor in the problem\nof life--and to avoid misunderstanding and confusion of ideas, we will\ncall it affection--the influence of affection.\n\nThere remains one more consideration--one further class and kind of\ninfluence--which has its bearing on conduct. This may be summed up, in a\ngeneral way, as love of an ideal, or an idea. Although it is less\nwide-spread and less potent in most lives than affection for fellow\nbeings, yet it is, in varying degrees, a real factor that cannot be left\nout.\n\nA sense of duty exists, to greater or less extent, in nearly all people.\nIn people of breeding and good family it may become pride of\nrace--_noblesse oblige_. A certain individual may have a strong\naffection for his home town, the little community with which he has been\nidentified as a boy and man. Another is devoted to a cause, a political\nparty, a Red Cross movement; while others have a strong feeling of\npatriotism, they love their country, their flag, and they are ready, at\nany time, to give up something for the good cause.\n\nBroadly speaking, and for lack of a better name, we may call this fifth\nprinciple in the problem of life--devotion to an ideal.\n\nAs a result of these influences, the character of an individual is\nformed, his conduct is determined. At any given time, in the presence of\nany given question as to what he will, or will not do, the answer will\ndepend on the relative force, or sway, of the conflicting\nconsiderations.\n\nThis is merely stating an application of a general law--that all effects\nmust have their causes. Only in the conduct of an individual, the causes\nat work are often very subtle and complicated.\n\nIf the average individual at the present time is behaving differently\nfrom the way he used to act, it is obviously because of some change in\nthe influences. Certain motives and considerations which used to be\ndecisive have now ceased to dominate. Other considerations have\nsuperseded them. So much is fairly obvious, and very little reflection\nis needed to locate these in a general way. They lie in the second group\nof our summary--the control of desires from without, enforced by rewards\nand punishments.\n\nIn the life of the average individual, this influence has become weaker\nall along the line. It is probably less dominating and decisive to-day,\nthan it has ever been before in any period of civilization, ancient or\nmodern. And the weakening of the influence begins in the earliest\nchildhood, with the punishments of nurse and parents and extends right\non to the end, through neighbors and public opinion, the police and the\nlaws, and finally to the church and religion, with their everlasting\nretribution, heaven and hell.\n\nThere has been no great apparent change in the other considerations of\nour summary. People are still influenced by experience and reason, as\nheretofore. They still are moved by their affections; and there are the\nsame class of people who will fight for their country and make\nsacrifices for an ideal.\n\nIt may be that the change of character which results from the weakening\ninfluences under our second heading, has an appreciable effect on the\nforce of other influences, also. But that is a delicate and subtle\nsubject, which will be discussed later on.\n\nFor the time being, we may stop at this point: that the startling\nchanges which have occurred recently in moral standards and\npoint-of-view are directly traceable to a corresponding weakening of an\ninfluence that has been one of the strongest in human lives.\n\nThe nature and extent of this process are worth considering in detail,\nbecause it is at the very root of the problem and the consequences are\nfar-reaching.\n\nAnd before we begin to analyze it, let us be careful to avoid a hasty\nand easy conclusion. Because the changes in people's views and behavior\nseem startling and alarming to those of the old school--that does not\nnecessarily mean that the new tendency is bad and wrong. Any change in\nfundamentals is apt to be upsetting, for the time being. The new way, in\nthe end, may really be better than the old, and represent progress. Or\nit may mean deterioration and decline. It will be time enough to discuss\nthat phase of the question, after we have made sure that we thoroughly\nunderstand what it is, that has been going on.\n\nLet us take one thing at a time and start with the simplest and most\nobvious.\n\nA human life begins, with possibilities of development in all sorts of\ndifferent directions. The child is taken care of from the\ncradle--guided, educated. In due time, it reaches an age where it is\nleft to decide for itself and its actions are determined by its nature\nand what it has been taught.\n\n\"As the twig is bent, the tree's inclined.\" This is an old adage of the\nEnglish language and the principle it expresses has been generally\naccepted throughout the world. \"Spare the rod and spoil the child\"--is\nanother old adage which has been almost as universally accepted. Still\nanother adage, expresses a fundamental principle: \"Children should be\nseen, not heard.\"\n\nThese adages are sufficient to indicate the basic theory that governed\nthe bringing up of children for countless generations. What do they\nimply?\n\nObedience, discipline, respect--respect for parents, respect for others,\nrespect for traditions and laws--and with it a reverence and fear of\nGod. The aim was to turn out law-abiding, God-fearing citizens; and the\nmethod, as expressed in the adages, was unquestioned for centuries and\ngenerally adhered to.\n\nIt has always been usual and natural among various peoples at various\ntimes, to inculcate in children from an early age those qualities which\nare considered worthy and admirable.\n\nAmong the American Indians, a true brave was he who presented an\nunflinching countenance to the enemy, even in torture. Consequently, boy\nchildren were pricked and burned by their parents, until they were\nschooled to accept any kind of pain without a whimper.\n\nIn China, tiny feet were considered desirable in a woman--so girl\nchildren's feet were tightly bound and kept so, for long periods, with\ngreat suffering, in order to attain the worthy object.\n\nIn these and similar cases in European civilization, the stern methods\nemployed cannot be taken to mean that parents loved their children any\nthe less--rather the contrary. Because they loved them, they did not\nhesitate to do what was necessary, according to their lights, to make\nthem grow up as fine specimens as possible.\n\nThat was the old school. What, now, of the new?\n\nIt is obvious that, in recent years, there has been a vast change in the\nattitude of parents toward children, and perhaps an even greater change\nin the attitude of children toward parents.\n\nThe rod is used very sparingly, nowadays. In America, at least, it may\nbe said to be no longer used at all. Among families of education and\nrefinement, a child may still be spanked by the mother or father, but\nnot very often. The significance of the proceeding is not very great,\nand half the time the spanking is occasioned by the irritable nervous\ncondition of the parent rather than the act of the child.\n\nA child may sometimes be slapped by a nurse, usually when the nurse is\ncross and ill-humored. But in nearly all cases, if a nurse dared to whip\na child, or cause it real pain, the child would only have to tell its\nparents and the nurse would be discharged.\n\nAnd such trifling chastisements as do occur to-day, are confined to a\nvery early age of the child. A boy or girl of twelve or fifteen has no\nfear of a beating from father, or mother, or governess, or\nschool-teacher. School-masters are no longer allowed to whip their\npupils, or even to cuff them.\n\nThe old adage is no longer in force--it has been thrown into the\ndiscard. \"Spare the rod--\" yes, the rod _is_ spared, but it remains to\nbe seen whether on that account the child is necessarily spoiled.\n\n\"Children should be seen, not heard\"--that idea, is also in the discard.\nBoys and girls have as much right to their say as anybody else. At the\nfamily table, in the home circle, the tendency is rather for their ideas\nand their affairs to usurp the conversation. Their impressions are\nfresher and more animated, and they are more abreast of the latest\nup-to-date topics. An attitude of respect and reverence for the opinions\nand notions of their parents, or grand-parents, would hardly be expected\nof them. So many of the things to be talked about--motors, wireless,\nairplanes, new wrinkles and changed conditions--are better understood by\nthem than the old people. It is easy for them to get the feeling that\nthe old people's ideas are rather moth-eaten and of not much account. It\nis for the rising generation to tell and explain what's doing now and\nfor the setting generation to listen and make the most of it.\n\nOf course, this is not meant to imply that children have ceased to have\nany respect for their parents. In any particular case, it is a question\nof degree, depending upon the quality of the children, the quality of\nthe parents, the various conditions and influences of the family life.\nIt is the general tendency we are looking for--the underlying\nprinciple--which makes itself felt to a greater or less extent,\naccording to circumstances.\n\nIt is unquestionably true that the average child to-day is less often\nand less severely punished than the child of the past. If it disobeys,\nit has less fear of the consequences, so the importance of obedience\nbecomes a dwindling factor in its mental attitude and its behavior.\n\nIt learns to take orders with a grain of salt and as often as may be, it\ndisregards them, because they are not what it likes. That is the\nbeginning of a tendency--the first bending of a twig.\n\nAs the twig goes on growing with this slant, and the horizon of the boy\nand girl opens out beyond the family circle to a larger world, existing\nconditions are such as to encourage a continuation of the same tendency.\nThe selfish instincts and desires of the individual are opposed by the\nsame kind of influences and restraints that have been in force since\nthe beginning of civilization, but less effectively. And let us bear\nclearly in mind that, for the time being, we are confining our attention\nto the forces which act on the individual from without. That is the\nthread we are following--the second consideration in our summary.\n\nThe influences and restraints which act on the boy or girl, as they go\nforth from the home circle, are of various forms and kinds, but they may\nbe grouped in a few simple classes.\n\nFirst: The school with its teachers and teachings.\n\nSecond: The influence of example and imitation--what others of their age\nand kind are doing.\n\nThird: The influence of public opinion, of tradition and customs--what\neverybody seems to think is all right and approves, on the one hand, and\nwhat is considered wrong and unworthy, on the other.\n\nFourth: Laws and regulations of constituted authorities.\n\nFifth: Sunday school and church--the religious influence with its\nstandards of wickedness and goodness.\n\nIf we consider these in order, we are not impressed by any striking\nchange in the school influence. In many respects, no doubt, schools are\nbetter planned and more intelligently managed than they ever were\nbefore. More attention is paid to ventilation, hygiene, recreation, on\nthe one hand; and on the other the methods employed in imparting book\nknowledge are probably more enlightened.\n\nAs regards the question we are discussing--obedience, discipline,\nrespect for authority--on the whole, there has probably been no great\nchange. In the class-room and throughout the school regime, strict\nobedience is still maintained as an essential requisite, just as it has\nalways been. The punishments and penalties for disobedience are perhaps\na little less severe and drastic, but without any real difference in\neffect.\n\nThe only question worth raising in this connection is how far\nschool-teachers and school-rules are taken to heart by the average boy\nor girl--how far they are made to apply to their notions and motives,\nwhen school is left behind. School-books, school-teachers and\nschool-discipline are so apt to be bunched together and relegated to a\nspecial corner of the mind.\n\nOur second group--the influence of example and imitation--has probably\nalways been a more important factor in shaping conduct and character.\nWhat the older boys, just above you, do and believe, makes a lot of\ndifference to you, if you are a boy.\n\nIt is no question here of old-fashioned precepts or theories, handed\ndown by parents, grandmothers or school-teachers, to be taken with a\ngrain of salt. It is something living and vital, which concerns you\ndirectly. You look up to the older boys: you want to be like them; and\napproved of by them. What they think and do may be at variance with the\nideas of nurse, mother and school-master, but if it is good enough for\nthem, it is good enough for you. It is a practical standard which you\ncan't help being judged by. If you fail to live up to it, or refuse to\naccept it and try to act differently, there is a sure penalty. You will\nbe sneered at, disliked, looked down upon, or laughed at.\n\nIf you are a girl, the same principle applies. There is nothing new\nabout the principle. It is as old as the hills and universal.\n\nIs the effect of it to-day on the forming character any different from\nwhat it has been, in the past? Undoubtedly. A moment's reflection will\nshow why and how this must be so.\n\nWhatever the nature and influence of the family bringing-up may have\nbeen, in any particular case, the general tendency toward lack of\ndiscipline and disregard for authority can hardly fail to be reflected\nin the prevailing standards of the boys and girls to be found at any\nschool. They have no connection with school regulations or school\npenalties. It is the fundamental question of instincts, desires, and\nnotions--the attitude toward themselves and toward life outside the\nschool-room which they are going to take with them where-ever they go.\n\nThe tendency begun at home finds reinforcement and further development\nin the boy or girl by example and contact with others, who are headed\nthe same way.\n\nNext comes the third group: The influence of public opinion--of\ntradition and customs.\n\nThere is no mistaking the fact that in the present generation there have\nbeen many striking changes in the prevailing customs, as they apply to\nthe behavior and conduct of individuals. The growing boys and girls see\nthese changes taking place on every hand.\n\nWhen mother and father were young, Sunday was a day set aside for\nchurch-going and dull and decorous behavior. Games and fun of all kinds\nwere laid away, everybody put on their best clothes and sat around and\ntalked, or took quiet walks with an overhanging air of seemly propriety.\nTo-day there are tennis and golf and baseball games and dinner-parties\nand gambling at the bridge-table, in which mother and father\nparticipate along with the rest.\n\nIt used to be considered improper for a girl of good family to go out at\nnight to any kind of party without being accompanied by a chaperon.\nNowadays, the girl who is obliged to take a chaperon with her wherever\nshe goes, is liable to be laughed at by her up-to-date friends.\n\nIt was not so long ago that in any respectable community, a woman who\npainted her face, smoked cigarettes, drank cocktails and gambled with\nthe men, would have been considered a shocking spectacle of depravity\nthat no self-respecting wife, or mother, could accept or tolerate.\n\nNowadays, the growing boy and girl have only to open their eyes to see\nwomen doing such things everywhere--as likely as not their aunts and\ncousins, or their own mothers.\n\nExamples of this nature could be given in great variety, but enough has\nbeen suggested to show the trend. In another connection it will be\ninteresting to discuss these manifestations in greater detail and\nreflect on their cause and meaning.\n\nFor the present, it is sufficient to indicate that the social customs\nhave changed and are changing very materially. Under such conditions, it\nwould not be natural for young people to be unduly impressed by them.\nSuch standards are so unstable and they differ so much to-day from what\nthey were yesterday, and they differ so much in different circles and\neven in different families, that their force and importance are not very\ncompelling. The authority of past customs has undergone a process of\nconfusion and weakening, much the same as parental authority. There is\nless respect for it on the part of the new generation.\n\nThe same thing is true of traditions and public opinion. Traditions have\nbeen modified and lost sight of in the new movement, and public opinion\non many questions is to-day so confused and indefinite as hardly to\nexist.\n\nSome people still think that divorce and re-marriage is shocking. Other\npeople thoroughly approve of divorce, and believe that when a marriage\nhas proved unsatisfactory and objectionable, it is right and best to\ncall it off and look for something better.\n\nSome people think it wrong for young people to run to the picture-shows\nand see baby vampires and demoralizing examples of licence and\nmisconduct; others are enthusiastic about the educational value of the\nmovies and encourage their children to go as often as they like.\n\nSome people disapprove violently of the way young people dance together\nand of the present attitude of girls and boys toward one another; while\nothers accept it as a part of the new era of emancipation and\nenlightenment which is all in the way of progress.\n\nThere is practically no real public opinion to-day on these, and many\nother similar questions. A diversity of individual opinions and notions\nhas taken its place, which young people are more or less free to follow\nor ignore, as circumstances may determine.\n\nYet it is not so long ago that public opinion in most communities was a\nfirmly established, vital force. It was generally recognized and\ncarefully respected by anybody, who wished to be considered respectable.\nCertain acts, certain kinds of conduct, were considered immoral, or\nshocking, or in bad taste and those who defied public opinion were made\nto pay the penalty. They were given the cold shoulder, cut off the\nvisiting-list and made to feel the stigma of disapproval.\n\nIf a girl sneaked off alone with boys in the dark, or was caught smoking\ncigarettes--if a married man was seen consorting with a divorcee--if a\nwoman drank highballs and gambled and broke up a happy home--if any\nmember of the community did any one of a number of things which were\nconsidered improper, or unworthy, or immoral, or dishonorable, public\nopinion was sternly in evidence, unquestioned and unquestionable, to\njudge and to sentence.\n\nYoung people learned to take account of this consideration, just as\ntheir mothers and fathers did. They grew up with respect for it. In the\nnew generation the thing itself has lost greatly in consistency and\nforce, and the young people see no reason to be much concerned about it.\n\nIn the fourth group, are included the laws and regulations of\nconstituted authorities. For the most part these find their chief\nrepresentative in the policeman, with the jail and law-court, as a\nbackground behind him. About the only change in this influence lies in\nthe mental attitude of the average individual.\n\nA generation ago, people who got arrested were usually thieves, or\ndrunkards, or crooks and criminals of some kind. To be a law-breaker and\nin the clutches of the police was something that a reputable citizen\nshuddered at. The police were the guardians of all good people,\nmajestic, respected and a little awe-inspiring.\n\nNowadays, people of all sorts and kinds are constantly getting into\ntrouble with the police, and getting arrested, and being hauled to court\nand fined before the same bar of justice as the crooks and drunkards. It\nis usually in connection with automobile driving. They are\nlaw-breakers--they know it and are caught at it.\n\nAnd since the prohibition laws have gone into effect, another crop of\nlaw-breakers has sprung up on every hand. Deliberately and defiantly\nthey disregard the law and scoff at it.\n\nIn addition to this matter of the police, there is a growing tendency on\nthe part of the average person to question the worthiness and integrity\nof officials and representatives of government, all along the line.\nAldermen, commissioners, mayors of cities--even senators of the United\nStates--are frequent objects of mistrust, of sneering disrespect.\nPolitical scandals and corrupt deals in high places are commonplace\ntopics in any community.\n\nSo young people, looking about and absorbing ideas, under these\nconditions, are inclined to have a lessened respect for constituted\nauthorities and the laws.\n\nAbove and beyond this, having a deeper significance and effects that are\nmore intimate and constant and far-reaching, is the change which has\nbeen taking place in the influences of the fifth and last group--Sunday\nschool and church--the force of religion.\n\nThis is such a delicate subject, so close to the hearts of so many\npeople and having so many variations and degrees in different\nindividuals, in different families, in different communities, in\ndifferent churches, that it is extremely difficult to discuss. It is\nlargely a matter of private sentiment, of vague personal feelings for\nwhich the average person is unable to find adequate expression. No\nsooner is the subject broached than the individual mind takes refuge in\na defensive attitude. As it does not intend to be disturbed in its own\nspiritual attitude and beliefs, it is ready to seize the first\nopportunity to raise objections.\n\nLet me reassure such minds by saying that I am quite willing to agree\nwith them concerning the good that is in their minister, or their\nchurch, or any other church, or religion they may be interested in. To\nthe best of my knowledge and belief, the purpose and influence of all\nchurches and all religions has always been in the direction of higher\nthoughts and more exalted motives of conduct. This is no less so to-day\nthan it has been in the past.\n\nThe change that has occurred is in the attitude of the new generation\ntoward the teachings of the church and the consequent weakening of its\ninfluence.\n\nNot much reflection or observation is required to arrive at a general\nidea of the nature and extent of this tendency.\n\nIn most Christian homes it has been the custom to teach children to say\ntheir prayers every night before going to bed. And in teaching them to\npray, the idea has been instilled in their minds that the all-wise Lord\nis listening to them and watching over them. Mothers and Fathers have\naccustomed them to the belief that no act of theirs--no matter how\ncarefully they may conceal it from the human beings about them--can ever\nescape the all-seeing eye of the Lord.\n\nChildren have believed this from time immemorial and the Sunday school\nand church have encouraged and strengthened this belief, at all stages\nof their growth. And along with this, as we have observed, went the idea\nof divine, everlasting justice and retribution--the punishment of evil\nand the regard of good, if not in this world, then surely in the greater\nworld beyond. Heaven and hell have for centuries been pictured as\nawe-inspiring realities, established by the Bible, expounded and\nthundered from pulpits.\n\nChildren found, as they grew up, that the idea was accepted and shared\nby mothers, fathers, neighbors--everybody in the community entitled to\nrespect or consideration. In trouble or sickness, they turned to the\nLord for comfort and help and those who yielded to temptation and\nignored His commandments were in danger of eternal damnation.\n\nWhen people believe such a doctrine, when it is a living conviction in\ntheir hearts and souls, no greater influence could be imagined for\ncontrolling their material instincts and desires. We have only to refer\nback to the days of the martyrs and saints to realize what the principle\nis capable of when it is fully applied. As compared to eternal salvation\nand everlasting bliss--how petty and unimportant are the temporary\nexperiences of the body.\n\nThe great mass of normal human beings, while accepting and believing the\ndoctrine, have never deemed it necessary, or practical, to carry it too\nfar. But always in the past, so far as we know, the average individual\nhas been influenced to a very considerable extent by his religious\nbeliefs. The more deeply and intensely he _believed_ in the teachings,\nthe greater their influence in controlling his acts.\n\nIf we turn to the present generation, we find on all sides, evidences of\na growing notion that many of the statements contained in the Bible will\nno longer hold water, when put to the test of scientific enlightenment.\nA minister of the gospel in this church, and another in that, announces\nfrom the pulpit that it is no longer possible for him to accept the\ndoctrines of hell's fire and eternal damnation. Others follow their\nexample and preach sermons, accordingly, to justify this stand. Next the\nquestion of heaven is brought into question by a conscientious divine,\nwho expounds the conviction that it should be accepted in an allegorical\nmeaning, not literally--that instead of being a paradise inhabited by\nthe souls of the elect, it should be considered rather a state of mind\nof living mortals who behave rightly.\n\nHeaven and hell, a jealous and all-mighty Being, seated on a majestic\nthrone, watching and judging each act of mortal man, punishing and\nrewarding, through all eternity--these and many other biblical\nteachings, which for centuries awed the imagination and possessed the\nsouls of humble men and women, have gradually been brought into\nquestion.\n\nSome people are inclined to lay blame for this on the churches and the\nministers. But that is superficial thinking. The causes for the change\nwere not within the churches, but outside, and the ministers of the\ngospel, though human beings like the rest of us, were among the very\nlast to take cognizance of them.\n\nThe doubts and questions and misgivings evidently began, some time ago,\namong practical, thoughtful minds of scientific training. Certain\nstatements in the Bible, in the light of modern investigation, were\nfound to be inaccurate. If parts of it were founded on the ignorance of\nmen of more or less primitive instruction, it is easy to see where this\nline of reasoning was bound to lead. In addition to the statements of\nfact, many of the ideas and assumptions set forth in the Bible seemed\ncrude, narrow, cruel--as primitive as the lives of those early peoples\namong whom it came into existence.\n\nThe moral code contained in it--the essence of its religious\nsignificance--was undoubtedly sound and eternally true and very possibly\ninspired from on high, but the details, the images, the formal\nconceptions were decidedly antiquated and unimpressive to the\nenlightened spirit of our advanced civilization.\n\nThis growing point-of-view began to express itself quite noticeably in\nthe past generation, at least in America. Thoughtful men, when they\narrived at it, were inclined to keep it to themselves. They did not care\nto disturb the simple, whole-souled faith of their wives and mothers and\nchildren. But when these men went to church with the family, and had to\nlisten to the literal, orthodox expoundings of antiquated dogmas, they\nwere apt to feel mildly bored and annoyed. They began to beg off from\ngoing to church. Then, little by little, in the various church\ncongregations, there was a disquieting falling off in the attendance of\nmen-folk.\n\nThen some of these men began to exchange their views quietly with\nothers, who felt the same way. Articles were written, here and there,\ncalling certain dogmas into question--and women were sometimes led to\ntake part in the discussions and face the conclusions.\n\nWomen, as has been observed from time immemorial, are by nature more\nconservative than men, more inclined to accept existing conventions and\nbe governed by traditions. They are also more impressionable and the\noutward forms of church service mean more to them. Religious stimulant\ncan come to them through their feelings and imagination without greatly\ninvolving the intellect. The same is true of children.\n\nSo it has happened that while the men questioned, lost faith and balked\nat church-going, the women and children kept on dutifully, for the most\npart content to accept things as they had always been.\n\nBut the contagion of advanced thought was in the air, spreading among\nprogressive men, reacting to a certain extent among women, and it was\nprobably not until this had been going on for some time that it began to\nbe taken into account by the clergy. Sooner or later it had to be, if\nthe church was to preserve any harmony with the thoughts of its\ncongregation.\n\nAt the present time, things have reached a point where if you ask any of\nthe younger women, of average intelligence and education, her sentiments\nconcerning hell's fire and heaven's glories, and the jealous on-looking\nGod who demands to be worshipped, the chances are she will answer with a\nshrug that those things are no longer preached by progressive ministers.\nShe believes in the Bible, certainly, and considers herself a good\nChristian, but certain portions of the divine word, certain conceptions\nof the past, are no longer acceptable--they have gone into the discard.\n\nAnd these women, holding such a view, have no hesitancy in expressing it\nin the presence of their children, if it so happens that they are old\nenough to be sitting by, listening to the conversation.\n\nIn the light of all this, when we come to consider the force of religion\nas a restraining influence in the growing lives of the new generation,\nthe nature and extent of the changes is fairly obvious.\n\nLet us suppose that to-day the average little children still have the\nbeginnings of their religious training in much the same way as it has\nalways been. And a large proportion of them undoubtedly do, because\nthat is one of the family traditions which almost any mother would be\nloath to change.\n\nThe children, then, are taught to say their daily prayer--they are told\nthat God hears them and sees them--that God is all-wise and\nall-powerful--that He loves good people and rewards them, while people,\nwho do wrong, anger Him and cannot escape His punishment. And this\nteaching is continued and developed in the Sunday school, as soon as the\nchildren are old enough to go there.\n\nThe child mind absorbs all this, accepts it with the same simple faith\nwith which it has accepted Santa Claus.\n\nIf we consider the period of early childhood carefully, we find that\nthese two beliefs, so to speak, go hand in hand--and there is much\nsimilarity between them. Most children are also taught about Santa Claus\nfrom the earliest days. He becomes very real and wonderfully important\nin the child imagination. He, too, has a mysterious way of knowing\nwhether people are good or bad; he, too, loves the good ones and rewards\nthem by bringing them beautiful presents--and if the bad ones are too\nbad, he is liable to punish them by giving them no presents at all.\nInstead of praying to him at night, you can write him letters which he\nhas a way of getting from the chimney, so that he, too, can understand\nthe innermost wishes of your heart.\n\nSooner or later, however, the time must come when the existence of Santa\nClaus is called into doubt. The doubt usually begins with some remark\nmade by an older boy or girl. But even if older boys and girls kept\ntheir mouths shut, the time would surely come when a growing mind would\nbegin puzzling, reasoning, doubting, and by putting two and two\ntogether, would be forced to the conclusion that this pretty idea was\nonly a make-believe, a myth, a humbug. A little further reflection might\ntell it that the myth must have been invented by some one, long ago, and\nwas kept alive and carried on by people, generation after generation, on\naccount of the value and influence it was found to have in bringing up\nchildren.\n\nEven after a child has become too wise to believe any longer in Santa\nClaus, when the first reaction of feeling fooled and cheated is over, it\nis perfectly willing to go on pretending for the sake of little brother\nand sister, and when it grows up and has children of its own, it will go\non pretending for them.\n\nIn the present generation, what is happening in the case of many people\nwith regard to religious beliefs, is only one step removed. At a little\nlater period of development, no doubt, but almost as inevitably, the\nmoment arrives when the childhood teachings and conceptions begin to be\ncalled into question.\n\nIs there really an all-wise Lord, looking on and listening when you say\nyour evening prayers? How many ears and eyes He must have, when so many\npeople are doing the same thing at the same time--hundreds, thousands,\nmillions--all talking to Him at once--in different languages and about\ndifferent things!\n\nIt was the same way about Santa Claus. How could he be bringing so many\npresents to so many people, all over the world, and delivering them\npersonally, on the same Christmas eve? It would have taken him years to\nget through with all the houses in New York City alone--without thinking\nof London and Paris and all the other places.\n\nIn the past, when such a question came to mind and found expression, the\nanswer was comparatively simple and direct. Religion is a matter of\nfaith, not argument; the ways of the Lord surpass the human\nunderstanding: the Bible and the church are the authority, what they\nteach and ordain is to be accepted and obeyed. To doubt, or question, or\ndisbelieve is the beginning of sin, and the consequences may be\nterrible.\n\nWhen the individual was trained to the habit of obedience--when the\nattitude of the spirit within was one of respect and reverence for\nestablished authority and established traditions--that was one thing. If\nmothers and fathers and neighbors and wiser heads everywhere accepted\nthis great mystery unqualifiedly, on faith, as the guiding light of\ntheir lives, was it not enough for their sons and daughters to follow\ntheir example and do likewise?\n\nBut in the new generation, as we have seen, the twig has already been\nbent in a different direction. Before the time comes for the young\nperson to be bothered with thoughts about religion, he or she has\nalready acquired the notion that the example of mother and father does\nnot need to be followed in many things. Some of their ideas and\ntraditions have become antiquated and more or less ridiculous in the\nlight of the new movement. When one begins to make enquiries about this\nquestion of the Bible, enough has been said and heard to indicate that\ncertain of its assumptions, at least, will no longer hold water and have\nbeen discarded by the ministers, themselves. So, say many of the new\ngeneration, when you come down to it, what is there to prove that these\nreligious beliefs may not, after all, be only a legend, something like\nthe one about Santa Claus, evolved in the distant past, kept alive and\nadhered to, generation after generation, for the same sort of reason?\n\nA far greater number find it more convenient to refrain from expressing\nthemselves. They may even go to church, occasionally, and they observe a\nsuperficial deference for the established forms of religion. But they\nare very little concerned in the sayings of the Bible, or the sermons of\nthe ministers; they don't ask, or expect, any help from the Lord--nor do\nthey live in fear of His punishment.\n\nIt is not to be inferred that any large proportion of the new generation\nhave consciously or definitely followed out the chain of reasoning which\nwe have indicated. Most of them don't bother their heads to think very\nfar about such a serious subject. Their attitude, on this question, as\non many others, is apt to be arrived at, in a more or less subconscious\nway.\n\nIf a growing nature has not been schooled to obedience; if it has\nlearned to question and often disregard the ideas of its parents and\nelders and has formed the habit of laughing at old-fashioned traditions\nand conventions, there is nothing to be wondered at, if, when the time\ncomes, it is prepared to take a more or less similar view of Bible and\nchurch.\n\nThat, undoubtedly, is the present tendency.\n\nNow it is more than likely that such thoughts as these seem\nobjectionable to many good Christians, because they consider that every\nwell-intentioned person should strive to uphold the church and to\nrefrain from the expression of ideas that might tend to unsettle faith.\n\nLet me assure such people that my intentions are really of the best and\nI am as deeply concerned as they can be about the influences which\nappear to be undermining the spiritual welfare of my fellow beings.\n\nBut for the present, my aim is to look facts in the face, and to\nendeavor, patiently and simply, to understand and explain. When we have\ndone our best in this direction, it will be time enough to hazard\nopinions and offer suggestions.\n\nAlso, let us bear in mind that in this question of religion, as in the\nother questions we have touched upon, it is only a tendency which we\nhave been considering--a fairly general tendency, to be sure, but still\nonly a tendency. In some communities, in some families, in some sects,\nit may be hardly noticeable.\n\nAt the moment I write these lines, the newspapers are full of a new\nmovement undertaken by leading church societies of various denominations\nto have laws enacted, enforcing the observance of the Sabbath. They aim\nto bring about by this means, a return to the habits of church-going and\nBible reading, as they were in the days of our forefathers. The very\nexistence of such a movement is sufficient evidence of the tendency they\nseek to combat. Whether any law could be counted on to accomplish their\npurpose is another question, which need not concern us for the time\nbeing.\n\nIf we go back to our main thread of enquiry and draw together the\nresults of our observations, they seem to offer a comparatively simple\ndiagnosis of this supposedly mysterious disease which has gotten hold of\nour young people. We have located the seat of the trouble and indicated\nthe nature of the developments which have, so to speak, thrown the\nmotives of conduct out of their accustomed balance.\n\nObedience, discipline, respect for authority and traditions,\nconsideration for others, fear of punishment, fear of consequences, fear\nof God,--these great check-weights to self-interest, self-seeking, have\nlost in weight and substance to such an extent that they no longer turn\nthe scales and point the way. If our diagnosis is on the whole correct,\nwe have finished with the first part of the problem.\n\n    _N.Y. Times_, July 5, 1921.--Says lax parents make boy felons.\n    Judge Talley analyzes youthful crime. Defiance begins at home.\n\n    Judge Alfred J. Talley of the Court of General Sessions told\n    several thousand persons gathered in the Mall in Central Park\n    for an Independence Day celebration by the Knights of Columbus\n    yesterday afternoon that modern American children are not\n    brought up with the proper respect for their parents, law and\n    order, or constituted authority, and that the fault lies with\n    their elders. Judge Talley described the situation as a\n    \"cancer on the body politic.\" He drew a distinction between\n    liberty and license and said that his experience in the\n    criminal courts of New York had brought one great American\n    failing very strongly home to him.\n\n    \"The one thing the American people lack to-day,\" he said, \"is\n    a proper method for bringing up their children. I see the\n    results of this every day. The hardened criminals turn out to\n    be youths of 19 and 20 years who first thrust themselves\n    against law and order at 16 and 17 years, and who at 14 told\n    their fathers that they were leaving school--and left.\n\n    \"Behind this hardened criminal stands the sullen drab figure\n    of a girl who tries to show how loyal she is to the vagabond\n    in the hands of the law. It all began with a misguided idea of\n    liberty. The youth is the one who told his father he had had\n    all the education he needed and promptly became a street\n    corner type, and the girl, she who silenced her mother when\n    bound for a dance by tossing aside criticism of the indecent\n    dress she wore.\n\n    \"In our schools to-day the child stands defiant and the\n    teacher is unable to use the only kind of discipline that\n    would do any good. The parent at home fails to understand\n    disciplinary methods, and so we have the picture of the father\n    obeying the son instead of the son the father; and the mother\n    obeys the daughter.\"\n\n    To support his contention, Judge Talley said that statistics\n    supplied a few weeks ago by the New York State Prison\n    Commission showed the average age of penitentiary inmates to\n    be 19 years. \"This means that they began their criminal\n    careers at 16 and 17, an age at which no Judge sends them to\n    State prison. What is to be done to stem this tide of youthful\n    depravity? There is only one way--we must encourage morality\n    in public and in private, which means that we must bring back\n    to our American life high standards and high ideals.\"\n\n\n\n\nII\n\nTHE UP-TO-DATE PRINCIPLE\n\n\nIn the eyes of some good folks, the behavior of the girls and boys and\nyoung married people to-day appears totally unprincipled; and the good\nfolks throw up their hands and declare \"they can't understand it.\" As a\nmatter of fact, they haven't tried to understand it and most of them are\nvery far from understanding it.\n\nThere are nearly always two sides to a question--to any question--and no\nmatter how strongly your personal views may incline you to take one\nside, before passing judgment, it is no more than common fairness to\ngive the other side a chance to explain and justify its attitude. There\nis certainly very little chance of convincing your opponents that they\nare wrong, unless you have a fairly clear notion of what it is they have\nin mind.\n\nIt is quite natural for a grandmother to regard as \"unprincipled,\" the\nconduct of this new generation. It is obviously not controlled by the\nsame principles that she has lived by. She is impressed and disturbed\nby the disappearance of her principles and the shocking effects. The\n\"impossible notions\" that have apparently taken their place are beyond\nher comprehension, but she certainly would not dignify them by the name\nof principles.\n\nBut if these \"impossible notions\" are all that the new generation has to\ngo by, and if they represent its spirit and attitude toward the problem\nof life, it makes little difference whether they be called principles or\nnot, a principle of some sort is involved in them.\n\nThe first thing to do, therefore, is to arrive at as clear an\nunderstanding as possible as to what this principle is and what it\nimplies.\n\nVery little observation is needed to arrive at the conclusion that the\nessence of this new principle is the right of the individual nature to\nits fullest expression, to its most untrammelled development.\n\nA large proportion of the new generation may not be consciously aware of\nthis doctrine, or of their adhesion to it. But it is in the air and they\nabsorb it; it grows up within them, as an unconscious product of other\ninfluences; it is present in those about them, and the \"herd instinct\"\ncauses them to adopt it.\n\nThere are also a number who have given thought to the subject and are\nconvinced of the soundness and progress of the new principle. They are\nprepared to defend it and proclaim it with a touch of superiority. Here\nand there, in magazine articles and newspapers, it is finding more or\nless authoritative expression and endorsement.\n\nThe following quotations, for instance, are from an article which\nappeared recently on the editorial page of the Hearst Newspapers. They\nrepresent some views on education by a leading exponent of advanced\nthought.\n\n    One great end of education that ought forever to be in mind is\n    that the greatest enemy of attainment, as it is indeed of life\n    itself, is Fear.\n\n    No man or woman can ever do good work, in the world, whatever\n    be the task, until he has stricken from his hands and head and\n    his heart the chains of Fear.\n\n    The very first lesson to teach a baby is to be unafraid.\n\n    Instead of that, fear is constantly resorted to in the family\n    and in the school-room. We bribe, we threaten, we wheedle, we\n    bull-doze. And by every such act, we do the child irreparable\n    harm.\n\n    You ought to be much more thankful to God that your child\n    defies you, than that he cringes before you.\n\n    It should always be kept in mind that what you are after with\n    your child is not that he should learn obedience, but that he\n    should learn how to govern himself.\n\n    The road to obedience is short, easy and nasty. All you need\n    is a big stick. If you can be cruel and brutal enough, the\n    little one will quickly learn to jump when you speak to him.\n\nThis is a part of the new principle, forcibly and typically expressed.\n\nIs it any wonder that grandmother, brought up under the \"Spare the rod,\nand spoil the child\" and \"Children should be seen, not heard\"\nconvictions, should find herself bewildered by such notions--that she\nshould deem them \"impossible.\"\n\nAnother article of a somewhat different kind which appeared recently in\nthe Atlantic Monthly, was written by an Englishman, a moralist of the\nmodern school. His lesson is addressed to women and the main point of\nit, developed in a most interesting and reassuring way, is that they are\ntoo much afraid of conventional ideas, of public opinion. They should\nnot permit their aspirations and inclinations to be stifled by such\nconsiderations, but have the courage to give freer rein to their inner\nlongings.\n\nHe refers, in his article, to the fact that American women are said to\nbe far more advanced in this respect than their English cousins and\napproves of their example.\n\nThese, of course, are only scattered specimens of the many articles\nwhich have appeared and will continue to appear in support of the new\nprinciple.\n\nAnd in this connection a rather curious side-light has come to my\nattention repeatedly, within the past few years. Among a certain class\nof people, especially those who pride themselves on superior\nintelligence and advanced thought, there has been a pronounced revival\nof interest and admiration for the free verse and freer morals of Walt\nWhitman. He has been, so to speak, re-discovered and embraced as a guide\nand a prophet. His creed of life, so exuberantly and defiantly\nexpressed, was the exalted importance of his own ego. Wherever his\ndesires led him, wherever joy for himself was to be found, there would\nhe go, unabashed and inconsiderate.\n\nWith these indications in mind, we may proceed to consider some actual\nexamples which will serve to illustrate.\n\nA certain young woman is well-born and well-bred, occupying a prominent\nsocial position, decidedly intelligent--and good-looking, to boot. She\nhas a husband of her own class and kind, who has always been devoted to\nher, and three lovely children, two boys and a girl.\n\nShe has apparently given considerable thought to the problem of life,\nand the point-of-view she arrived at finally would seem to be a typical\nproduct of modern ideas.\n\nShe believes first and foremost in the absolute right of the individual\nsoul to recognize no master but itself--to follow out its desires and\naspirations to the fullest extent. She has a feeling of scorn and\ncontempt for conventions and conventional people. If you pay any\nattention to them, or their narrow, sheep-like opinions, or allow them\nto interfere in any way with your freedom of action, you are belittling\nyourself and your self-respect.\n\nYou must never be afraid to obey your own impulses. They come from\nwithin you, they are a part of your nature--your self--and that is where\nyour true duty lies. It is better that you should be true to yourself,\neven at the expense of others, than that you should be afraid and\ncowardly.\n\nThe very fact that a desire, or an impulse, makes itself felt within you\nis the main point. It is not really the things you _do_ that matter so\nmuch, as your _wish_ to do them. If you wish to do a thing, and hold\nback out of cowardice, or fear of the consequences, that doesn't make\nyou any better--only weaker and worse. You can't deny that the wish was\nthere--without lying to yourself--so what's the use?\n\nIt is finer and braver to go on with it and attain at least the\nsatisfaction of a wish fulfilled.\n\n\"But,\" some one objects, \"how about your obligations to others? Suppose\nby doing the thing you wish, you will harm them?\"\n\nThis little lady's answer to such an objection is usually accompanied by\na shrug and a mildly condescending expression.\n\n\"If you are going to keep bothering your head about the effect of your\nactions on other people, might as well give up at the start and be a\nnice little sheep. The game isn't worth the candle.\n\n\"Besides, there's more humbug in that than any of the other bromides,\nweak natures prate about. Most people in this world have got to look out\nfor themselves. You can't hope to be anything, or do anything worth\nwhile without occasionally treading on some one's toes. It has always\nbeen that way and if you're honest with yourself, you may as well\nrecognize the fact and accept it philosophically.\n\n\"In most cases the harm that you do is much less than you imagine. That\nusually takes care of itself, somehow.\"\n\nIf people bore her, she doesn't believe in pretending that they interest\nher. She will not invite them to her house, or accept their invitations.\n\nIf she has agreed to go somewhere, where she expects to amuse herself\nand then, at the last moment, no longer feels in the mood for it, she\ncalls it off. Or if in the meantime, something else turns up that she\nwould prefer to do, she does not hesitate to switch to the thing she\nprefers.\n\nIf people don't like that, it is their affair. She has no intention of\ncramping her freedom, denying her desires, on their account. What she\ndoes means more to her than it does to anybody else. There is no good\nreason for her to pretend to be any different from what she is.\n\nMoreover, in this particular case, there can be very little doubt, among\nthose who know her, that she practices what she preaches. This, too, is\nsomething which occurs more frequently in the new generation than it did\nin the past. There is no great trouble in accommodating practice to\ntheory--or rather the theory accommodates itself very readily to the\nkind of conduct which persons of this kind are ready to practice.\n\nFor instance, the lady in question wanted to visit Chinatown in one of\nthe large cities and arranged with a professional guide to be taken\nthere at night, alone with a girl friend. Among other things, they saw a\nChinaman smoking opium and this gave rise to a desire on her part to\nexperience the sensation for herself. The guide was prevailed upon, for\na consideration, to procure her an outfit and a supply of opium; and\nthat very night in her room she took a try at an opium dream. Why not?\n\nAt another time, at a cabaret party, she was introduced to a somewhat\nnotorious young man of the Bohemian world. He was obviously dissolute,\nbut talented and interesting. She danced with him, gave him\nencouragement, invited him to her home and was not afraid to be seen\ngoing about with him frequently on terms of intimacy. Among other\nthings, he was addicted to the cocaine habit--he sniffed the powder from\nthe back of his hand--and in due time he talked to her about it. He\npresented her with a bottle of the drug and after that, she always had a\nsupply in reserve which she used when the impulse came. Why not?\n\nIf her husband had any objection to things that she did, he soon learned\nto keep them to himself. She could not and would not tolerate any\ninterference with the rights of an individual soul. She must have the\nsame freedom that she conceded to him. The kind of thing he chose to do,\napart from her, was a matter for him to decide in accordance with his\nnature. The same rule must apply to her. The days of slavery had passed.\nMarriage was an arrangement between equals.\n\nIn due course of time, the husband had to leave her and the children for\nwar service. While he was away, she fell in with another talented and\ndissipated Bohemian--a romantic-looking musician very much in the public\neye. Very quickly their infatuation for each other was a matter of open\ncomment on the part of the veriest on-looker. As he had the same idea\nthat she had about the rights of the individual, and the same contempt\nfor conventions and conventional people, there was no pretense of\nconcealment, no need of observing the proprieties.\n\nWhen the husband returned from overseas, she informed him, with the\nutmost candor of what had taken place. There was no shame and no\nremorse. Why should there be? A simple statement of fact--the forces of\nhuman nature in operation. She had found some one who appealed to her\nimpulses more strongly than he. That was a truth which had to be\naccepted. The simplest way was to allow her to get a divorce.\n\nBut what of the children?\n\nA very simple answer. Whether they went with their father or stayed with\ntheir mother--or were taken by the grandparents--anything was really\nbetter for children than being brought up in an atmosphere where all was\npretense and whence love had flown. Of course she loved her children and\nalways would, but if they grew up to be the right sort, they would\nunderstand her motives and admire her the more for being true to\nherself.\n\nThis case embodies the practical working of the new principle, carried\nto an extreme.\n\nHere is another example of a different order: Two pretty girls of\neighteen or twenty were talking together in the seat in front of me, in\na trolley car. They turned out to be telephone operators at central\nswitchboards. They were talking over their plans, which contemplated a\nvisit to the movies with two young men--a supper and dance afterwards.\nThe young men were still to be heard from and as the girls were going to\nseparate places of employment the question was how to let each other\nknow about final arrangements. For reasons best known to themselves, it\nwouldn't be wise to attempt that over the 'phone--they had better meet\nsomewhere. Whereupon one of the girls suggested a place convenient to\nthem both, where they could slip out and meet each other--at four\no'clock. She would \"plug in\" all the terminals on her switchboard, so\nthat all the lines in that central would be reported \"busy\" when people\ncalled up, and the other girl could do the same. Then they could talk\nthings over quietly. \"Nothing to be afraid of.\" And so they agreed. Why\nnot?\n\nHere is another symptom:\n\nA married woman of my acquaintance is decidedly old-fashioned in her\nrespect for conventions and moral standards. She has a sweet and rather\nshy daughter, who has been brought up closely under the mother's wing,\nand has never lost the habit of asking and telling her mother\neverything. She is seventeen.\n\nOne summer evening, recently, the daughter was called up on the 'phone\nby one of her girl friends and asked to make one of the party, who were\narranging an impromptu dance at a private house. The girl friend and her\nbrother would stop for her in their car and bring her home afterwards.\n\nWhen the invitation was referred to mother, after a moment of hesitation\nand worry about the propriety of the proceeding, she gave her consent.\nShortly after, the friend and her brother stopped at the house and took\nthe daughter with them.\n\nWhen she got back home, after midnight, she went to her mother's room\nand told her, at her bed-side, what had happened.\n\nAfter they got to the house where the dance was to be and the others had\nall gathered there, it was decided for some reason to adjourn to another\nhouse. To get to this other house, the daughter was put into an\nautomobile with a girl and two young men. She sat in front, beside the\nyoung man who was driving. She knew him only slightly, had danced with\nhim a few times and thought him rather nice.\n\nOn the way, after chatting and joking, this young man stopped the car,\nthen suddenly kissed her and took her in his arms. She didn't know what\nto do. When she looked around, she found that the same thing was going\non in the back seat between the other boy and girl.\n\nThe young man beside her wouldn't listen to her objections. They seemed\nto take it for granted. If you liked each other, why shouldn't you? He\nsaid he liked her.\n\nThe occurrence is fairly typical of up-to-date standards--except in one\nparticular. Most girls refrain from mentioning it to mother.\n\nHere is another symptom, of slightly different complexion which applies\nto married life and suggests the extent to which the new principle is\nbearing fruit, in society circles.\n\nIt was brought to my notice, last summer, that in one colony on Long\nIsland where I happened to be, there were fourteen different houses\nwhere the wife had deserted the family and the husband was keeping house\nalone with the children. This was among members of the fashionable set.\nIn each of these cases, of course, the wife had come across some man\nwho, for the time being at least, appealed to her more than her husband\nand a divorce had been obtained in some convenient way, or was in the\nprocess of obtaining.\n\nIt usually happens when a discussion takes place concerning the\nimmorality of the present day, that some member of the party will\nadvance the opinion in a more or less authoritative way that the\ntendency in question is confined almost entirely to the so-called upper\ncrust of society and is consequently not entitled to the significance\nwhich is being attributed to it. The great mass of the people, in their\nsimple homes and simple communities, are not in the least contaminated\nor disturbed by it. They are just as moral and clean-minded as they ever\nwere, probably more so. Among the rich and idle upper classes, there has\nalways been a lot of dissipation and immorality in all countries, at all\ntimes. If America is getting a little more than usual of it, at present,\nthat is nothing to get excited about.\n\nIn the face of such sentiments, cheerily and forcibly expressed, the\naverage gossip and fault-finder is usually willing to acquiesce with a\nshrug. And so the discussion ends with a feeling that an attempt has\nbeen made to exaggerate the importance of a restricted and\nunrepresentative class.\n\nAs a matter of fact, this kind of talk would appear to be founded on\nneither accurate information nor sound reasoning.\n\nAs regards the lower and middle classes--including those in small\ncommunities--especially those in small communities--it has been called\nto my attention repeatedly by those in a position to know that the\nchange in standards, the so-called demoralization, has been quite as\nextreme as among the upper crust. And this view is in accord with my own\nnotion.\n\nTwo important agents of the new movement are the automobile and the\nmoving picture show. The mechanic's daughter, the store-keeper's\ndaughter, the farmer's daughter like to go to the movies. It may be at\nfirst the mother, or father, took care to find out who the daughter was\ngoing with and how. A girl friend and her brother. How are they going?\nIn the friend's automobile. Another time the father runs the daughter\nover to the friend's house in the Ford car. Another time the daughter\nruns herself over to the friend's house in the Ford car. It is only a\nshort way. Or again, it is the friend's brother who stops for her, on\nhis way to get the sister. After a while, this going to the movies has\nbecome such a frequent occurrence, that it is accepted as a matter of\ncourse, without bother or comment. If perchance the daughter comes home,\nsome night, later than usual and the mother feels uneasy, the\nexplanation is very simple. Instead of going to the nearby theatre, the\ndaughter and her friend went over to a neighboring town where a more\ninteresting picture was showing. In the end the daughter goes off about\nwhen she pleases and comes back in the same way.\n\nVery often the stories she sees on the screen are largely seasoned with\nmaterial that stirs the imagination and emotions in a hectic sexual way.\nIf the girl and a young man get into a Ford car together to go home by\nmoonlight, is it to be wondered at that the car comes to a stop on the\nlonely road and they forget old-fashioned proprieties?\n\nThe extent to which this sort of thing has been going on in many of the\nsmall town communities, according to the information I have received, is\nfar too serious to be glossed over with easy optimism. In one relatively\nsmall and primitive district I happened to know of, more than one-half\nof the families with marriageable daughters have within the last three\nyears had to bear the shame of illegitimate off-spring.\n\nIn the cities and larger towns, the same tendency appears to be in full\nswing among the shop-girls, stenographers, and daughters in the humbler\nwalks of life.\n\n\n\n\nIII\n\nREASON AND EXPERIENCE\n\n\nIn any case, from the examples and indications which we have cited and\ncountless others of a similar kind which come within the experience of\nalmost every one, nowadays, there can be little room for doubt that the\nnew principle of conduct is very much in evidence throughout the length\nand breadth of our land. Consciously or unconsciously, it is affecting\nthe character and determining the point-of-view of vast numbers in the\nnew generation.\n\nIf you attempt to reason with them and they are willing and intelligent\nenough to express themselves frankly, their answer and justification for\nthe way they are going sums up about as follows:\n\n\"Why shouldn't I think of myself and do what I like and want, as often\nas I get the chance?\n\n\"As long as I steer clear of the law and avoid breaking my neck, what\nother consequences are there that I need to keep worrying about?\n\n\"Why shouldn't I be a pleasure-seeker and a pleasure-lover? Why\nshouldn't I follow my inclinations and do what I like, whenever and\nwherever I get the chance?\"\n\nWhy not?\n\nIf you expect them to act contrary to their inclinations, to deny\nthemselves the pleasures that they want, and to do things they do not\nfeel like doing, there ought to be a good and sufficient reason. It\nought to be so clear and convincing that it can be accepted with a whole\nheart and a settled resolve to abide by it.\n\nThe young people of to-day are made of exactly the same stuff as the\nyoung people of any other day. They have the same sort of instincts and\nthe same underlying aspiration to get the most and the best out of life.\nOwing to altered conditions, for reasons which we have outlined, they\nare being left to go about it very largely in their own way, with less\ncoercion from without, than young people have probably ever known before\nin the history of civilization.\n\nHow far will you get by telling them that the way they are going is\nimmoral and sinful? They can answer by saying \"If I choose to be immoral\nand satisfy myself, why shouldn't I? I'm not afraid of being sinful, or\nany of those old-fashioned scare-crows.\"\n\nHow far will you get by advising that the rod be taken out again and\nthat they be beaten into submission to forms of authority which they no\nlonger believe in or respect? This might result in teaching them\nduplicity and cunning and resentment, but probably nothing more\nbeneficial to their spiritual health.\n\nIt seems to me more sensible to be patient with them and talk matters\nover with them and try to answer their question in exactly the same\nspirit in which it is asked.\n\nThe question is \"Why shouldn't I go ahead and gratify my inclinations in\nany way that suits myself.\"\n\nThere are many reasons, some of which ought not to be very difficult for\nany one to understand. Broadly speaking, they are of three different\nkinds--First, experience; second, affection; third, faith.\n\nLet us examine them in order, in a simple, leisurely way, and try to\nmake clear the essence of each.\n\nWhat does the question of experience lead to and imply?\n\nFirst, there is one's own experience; then there is the experience of\nother people.\n\nOur own experience teaches us very quickly that we often have impulses\nwhich it would be a mistake to obey. If you feel like pulling a strange\ndog's tail and the dog turns on you and bites your hand and the wound\nhas to be cauterized, and you have to go through a lot of pain and\ntrouble and fear of hydrophobia, one lesson will probably be enough for\nyou.\n\nSuppose you are overheated and feel like sitting in a draft and letting\nthe cool air blow on you, and this is followed by a heavy cold which\nlays you up for a week or two?\n\nOr suppose you are on top of a tall building and feel a strong impulse\nto jump out and go sailing through the air? Many people have this\nimpulse, but they have previously had enough experience to know what\nhappens to people who fall from high places.\n\nThe number of such examples might be multiplied indefinitely, but enough\nhas been suggested to indicate the principle. It is quite obvious and\nchildishly simple--the lessons taught to each and every one of us by our\nown experience.\n\nNow let us follow this path a step further. It is quite possible for you\nto have impulses and inclinations to do things which might cause you\nirreparable harm. The consequences of these things are not something\nthat you can remember and foresee, because in your own experience they\nhave not occurred before. If you stick to your idea of obeying no one\nbut yourself and of being unafraid to do what you want, the lesson in\nstore for you may come too late.\n\nCertain impulses of yours, if followed, may cause death. Others may\ncause permanent injury to yourself, or irreparable harm to others.\n\nA little boy seeing an automobile coming along the road sometimes has an\nimpulse to run across the road in front of the automobile, for the fun\nand excitement of it. If you are a boy and feel like it, why shouldn't\nyou?\n\nYou have never tripped and fallen in front of an automobile--you have\nnever misjudged the speed of it and been struck and killed that way.\n\nYou have never seen any other boy killed that way. There is nothing in\nyour own experience to deter you.\n\nIf the automobile happens to hit you, you will have acquired experience\nthat might be useful to you, but the cost is too great. If you are not\ndead, you may be crippled for life.\n\nIf you are convalescing from typhoid fever, you are likely to have a\nravenous appetite. You feel very well and you derive considerable\npleasure from the milk-toast and soft-boiled eggs you have been getting,\nbut they do not begin to satisfy you. Every instinct within you calls\nfor a big piece of juicy beef-steak and fried potatoes. There is no\nreason in your experience why you should not gratify your desire--you\nmay have been told by the doctor that it isn't time for that yet and you\nmust be content with what is ordered for you. But if you believe in\ndoing what you feel like and the doctor is out of the way, why not have\nyour beef-steak? I happen to know of two separate cases where this\noccurred--friends of mine. The doctor in each case apparently took too\nmuch for granted and failed to impress upon their minds forcibly enough\nthe need of obeying his orders rather than their own inclinations. The\nexperience came too late--because it brought death with it.\n\nOr suppose you are in some out-of-the-way place and are hot and tired\nand very thirsty and the only water available comes from a supply which\nis not fit to drink? You may have been told this by some one who knows\nmore about it than you do, but if you believe in ignoring other people's\nopinions and thinking only of yourself--and the water is cool and clear\nand you feel like drinking it, why shouldn't you? Suppose it turns out\nthat clear, cool water may be polluted with cholera, or yellow fever, or\nother deadly germs? You may never recover from the effects of it.\n\nThese are crude, haphazard illustrations of a principle which is\nconstantly at work in human lives in a great variety of ways. The\nobvious meaning of it is that your experience, or your own lack of\nexperience, in many questions and emergencies may not be enough for you\nto go by, or depend upon.\n\nMost young people have had very little experience of many things that\nare liable to have a vital bearing on their own lives, their own selves,\ntheir own hope of happiness.\n\nAs a matter of fact it must be evident to any one who will reflect a\nmoment, that no one individual, however long he may have lived, or\nhowever full and varied his life may have been, can possibly have had in\nhis own personal experience more than a small fraction of the things\nthat may occur and do keep occurring in the world of humanity.\n\nIf he has led a clean, healthy, vigorous life, he cannot have\nexperienced the feelings and problems of a drunkard and dope-fiend\nslowly submerging in dissipation and vice. If he married young and has\nknown the joy of entire devotion to a loyal and loving helpmate, he\ncannot have had the experience of a profligate who has been divorced\nfour times and is about to take another chance with a dashing\ngrass-widow. Hundreds and thousands of situations that other human\nbeings are called upon to face, he cannot have gone through on his own\naccount.\n\nBut if we are able to find out and bear in mind the experience of other\npeople, we can make use of it, as a warning and a guide, in much the\nsame way as if it had happened to ourselves. If I have seen a boy try to\nrun across the road in front of an automobile and stumble and get\nkilled, it is not necessary for me to get killed in order to appreciate\nthe danger of the experiment. You may never have seen this happen, but\nif I have and I tell you about it, you can use the information you get\nfrom me and still save yourself the necessity of risking your neck.\n\nThis principle is not at all difficult to understand. It has always been\napplied, to greater or less extent, in the lives of all human beings,\neverywhere. It is no more than common sense to profit by the experiences\nof others, and try to avoid their mistakes.\n\nIt seems strange that such a universal principle should be overlooked by\nthe up-to-date minds of the new generation. Yet the least little glimmer\nof light from it would in itself seem to be a sufficient answer to their\nquestion.\n\n\"Why shouldn't I go ahead and gratify all my impulses?\"\n\nBecause although your own limited experience may be insufficient to\nwarn you and guide you, the experience of other people has shown\nrepeatedly that such and such impulses usually lead to such and such\nconsequences which would be very harmful to you.\n\nIn the long run the results of others' experience are a better guide to\nfollow than your selfish impulses. You wish to be intelligent and\nreasonable, don't you? Well, if you lack experience and understanding,\nit is neither intelligent nor reasonable to imagine that you are the\nbest judge of the consequences.\n\nOf course, the examples we have cited so far--the strange dog that\nbites, the boy and the automobile, typhoid fever and polluted water--are\nvery elementary. Also the questions they involve--the harmful\nconsequences of certain impulses--are direct and immediate and entirely\nmaterial. They serve well enough to answer a question and illustrate a\nprinciple and that is all they were intended for. The principle is worth\nbearing in mind, because its application extends to all sorts of\ncomplicated questions of conduct. One reason that the young people of\nto-day are so confused in their moral ideas is just because they have\nbeen allowed to overlook this simple, fundamental principle.\n\nIt frequently happens that the most important consequences of the thing\nyou do, or fail to do, are not direct and immediate but fairly remote\nand obscure. An individual without much experience or knowledge of the\nworld may easily neglect to consider them.\n\nFor instance, I have known several cases where young men of good family\nforged their fathers' names. They were up-to-date young men, of course.\nBut even so, how could they come to do such a thing?\n\nBy gratifying their inclinations, in the first place, in accordance with\nthe up-to-date idea. One natural consequence of this is that, in order\nto gratify a new inclination, or as a result of having gratified the\nlast one, it becomes necessary to have more money. That is one of the\nannoyances of civilization, which even the most advanced of the new\ngeneration haven't yet been able to change. Many of their pet impulses\ncannot be indulged without money. It is an old-fashioned convention and\nvery irksome, but for the time being, at least, it has to be made the\nbest of.\n\nThe young men in question eventually found themselves faced with this\nproblem. They had to have money. How could they get it? Not by asking\ntheir mother, or father, for it. That source of supply had been used up\nto the last drop, with the help of all sorts of pretexts, subterfuges\nand broken promises. There was no longer any available friend or\nrelative to borrow from. That resource had also been used up. They had\nno jewelry left to pawn--that had been used up, too.\n\nSo finally, for the want of a better way, they arrived at this scheme of\nsigning their fathers' names to checks.\n\nAfter all, looking at it from their point-of-view, and bearing in mind\nthe freedom of the individual, why shouldn't they?\n\nIt would do no great harm to their fathers--no real harm at all. They\nhad plenty of money in the bank.\n\nBut it would constitute forgery--a serious offense, against the law.\n\"What of that? So is speeding an automobile against the law. Who's\nafraid of breaking the law--if you have the nerve?\"\n\nIs there no such thing as right and wrong? Don't you know in your heart\nthat this would be wrong--very wrong?\n\n\"I've been fed up with that kind of talk all my life. What other people\nthink about such things is their affair. I believe in deciding for\nmyself and doing as I like.\n\n\"The main thing I've got to consider is my chance of getting away with\nit and what is liable to happen if I don't. I am sure I can make a good\nenough imitation of my father's signature to get the check cashed at one\nof the stores the family deals with. If it goes to the bank along with\nother checks and the amount is not large, there is small chance of any\nattention being paid to it. If it once gets into father's account at the\nbank, as likely as not it will never be discovered. And even if it\nshould be, at some future date, no father would bring a charge against\nhis own son. So the worst that can happen is another one of those family\nscenes which I have gone through before.\n\n\"The most important thing of all is that I need the money--I've got to\nhave it--and this is the least objectionable way I can think of to get\nit.\"\n\nThis is presumably the process of reasoning the young men in question\nwent through. In each case the immediate consequence of the act was\napparently harmless and quite satisfactory to them. They got the money\nthey wanted, the checks were taken in at the bank, time passed and no\none knew the difference.\n\nThe indirect and remote consequences of this kind of conduct, however,\ncame eventually. They nearly always do. The forgeries in each case were\nrepeated--why shouldn't they be? And the day finally arrived when they\nwere brought to light. In each of the cases the suffering and\nheart-break of the mothers and fathers was pitiful and beyond recovery\nin this world. That was one of the indirect consequences.\n\nOne of the young men, whom I had known as a bright, attractive\ncollegian, was sent to prison, eventually, in spite of all his family\ncould do. Another died in an institution for incurables. All forfeited\ntheir birthright of home, family, decent associations and ended up in\ndegradation and wreckage.\n\nThat was one of the remote consequences.\n\nLet us take a more usual example, much less extreme--the young man who\nsteps on the throttle of his automobile because he feels like going\nfast.\n\nAs far as his own experience is concerned, where is the reason for him\nto deny his impulse?\n\nIf a traffic cop happens to see him, he might get \"pinched\" and fined.\nThat's about the only thing worth considering. But if he keeps his eyes\nopen and his companions in the back seat watch out behind, there's not\nmuch chance of that. And after all, suppose he does happen to \"get\npinched,\" what of it? There are plenty of others. His father will have\nto pay a fine and there will be a little scolding and unpleasantness in\nthe family, at the worst.\n\nAs for the danger, who's afraid of that? It only makes it more exciting\nand more fun.\n\nThe result is logical enough, if you start with the premise that each\nindividual is free to follow his inclinations and decide for himself.\n\nVery few young men have sufficient experience of their own, or\nsufficient reflection and wisdom, to give due weight to the indirect and\nremote consequences which may come from such conduct.\n\nLet us pause and imagine a few of them.\n\nIn the first place, an automobile skimming along the road at the rate of\nsixty or seventy miles an hour has in it elements of danger which are\nentitled to some consideration. The danger is not only for those who are\nin the car, but also for others who may wish to use the same road. An\naccumulated mass of experience has amply demonstrated this. That is the\nunderlying reason for the speed laws--not that young men may be\n\"pinched\" by \"traffic cops\" and fathers be made to pay fines.\n\nIf the young man driving the car were the only one concerned in the\ndanger, it might be different. He could claim the right to risk his own\nneck when he felt like it, and it might be conceded to him. But such is\nnot the case--such is never the case--other people cannot help being\naffected by his conduct. His companions in the car, their families, his\nown family, other people on the road and all their families, may be\nvery much concerned in a possible accident caused by his recklessness.\n\nIf he kills a little girl, or a boy on a bicycle, or a lady coming out\nof a cross-road, or if the damage is merely the injury of a few people\nand the wrecking of a car, there are sure to be unpleasant consequences\nfor the young man himself.\n\nSo much for the question of accident or danger of accident, but there is\nanother question of another sort involved.\n\nSuppose the young man has promised his mother and father that he would\nnot drive fast--never above thirty miles an hour--suppose it was on this\ndistinct understanding that their anxiety was allayed and he was trusted\nto take the car by himself wherever he liked?\n\nDoes it make any difference to him whether he breaks a promise--to his\nmother and father?\n\nHe can say to himself that it is only a natural fussiness on their part,\nand as they are not in the car, they won't know anything about it.\n\nBut sooner or later they do know about it; such things nearly always\nhave a way of coming to light. It is an old saying which has been very\ngenerally confirmed that, in the long run, \"the truth will out.\" One of\nthe girls in the car tells somebody how fast they went and that somebody\nrefers to it before others until it gets to the boy's mother and\nfather. What harm to the boy? A little scolding, perhaps, and a\nrepetition of the warning and the promise?\n\nThat's only the superficial consequence. There is a deeper and more\nremote one. The parents' confidence in their boy receives a shock. The\nboy can't always be trusted to keep his word. Also he is inclined to be\nreckless and irresponsible.\n\nThe parents have always idolized the boy; the father has never ceased\nlooking forward to the day when he could turn over to his son a big\nshare of his responsibilities and see him carry on the name and prestige\nof the family. It is the most natural and fondest hope that fathers\nhave.\n\nThis hope begins to be undermined when the boy does something which\nshows that he cannot be trusted. If he will break his word and take a\nreckless chance, merely for the sake of gratifying a trivial\ninclination, what is to keep him from doing so, on other occasions for\nthe same reason? The same spirit and the same point-of-view are certain\nto find repeated opportunities for the same sort of irresponsible\nconduct.\n\nWhen, in the course of time, the realization of this finally comes home\nto the mother and father, the consequences, although remote, are apt to\nbe extremely serious for all concerned--including the boy.\n\nHis character is irresponsible and untrustworthy. His word, or promise,\nis of no account--he cannot be counted on to keep it. That has been\nproved by his conduct--unmistakably.\n\nWhat the harm is to an individual of developing a character of this\nkind--or a lack of character--is a big and fairly complicated subject\nwhich is apparently not much considered by up-to-date young people, who\nare satisfied to judge things from the point-of-view of selfishness and\npersonal experience. It may be left for discussion later on.\n\nThe harm to mother and father and members of the family is also a matter\nwhich they incline to imagine is no concern of theirs. According to the\nnew principle, the main consideration is one's own ego and its right to\nfreedom. This question, too, may be left for later discussion.\n\nBut there still remains a harm and a loss of a practical, material kind,\nwhich in due course is pretty sure to come to the young man, himself. As\nit has a direct bearing on his pleasures and inclinations, even the most\nselfish individual should find it worth considering.\n\nIf you do things that are reckless and irresponsible, if you break your\nword and fail to keep your promise, the people who cease to trust you,\nthose who have most to do with you, will treat you accordingly. Those\nwho have it in their power to contribute largely to your enjoyment, and\nto your opportunities, will refrain from doing so. Invitations,\nfriendships, relationships of various kinds that might have been at your\ndisposal, will be withheld from you.\n\nTo get the most out of life, even from an entirely material and selfish\npoint-of-view, you need a lot of help from other people. First and\nforemost you need it from your own family, in countless ways.\n\nSuppose your own father, as a result of your irresponsibility, refuses\nto let you have an automobile to break the speed laws with? Suppose he\nis forced by experience to realize that you can't be trusted with money,\nany more than you can be trusted with an automobile? This realization is\nsure to be a source of great disappointment and sorrow to him, but he\nhas to accept it. He must abandon his hope of turning over his\nresponsibilities to you. If money is placed at your disposal, you may be\nexpected to gamble with it on the stock exchange, or the race-track, or\nto squander it in gratifications of an unworthy and demoralizing kind. A\nyoung man who thinks only of gratifying his inclinations, who is not\nafraid to be reckless and inconsiderate of others, and who fails to keep\nhis word, is hardly a fit person to be placed in control of money. It\nfrequently happens that a father feels it a duty, when he makes his\nwill, to tie up the family inheritance in such a way that it will be\nbeyond the reach of an untrustworthy son.\n\nSo that the remote and indirect consequences of this kind of conduct may\nbe more harmful to a young man than his lack of experience and\nunderstanding makes him aware of, at the time being.\n\nHow about the young woman of superior intellect and breeding, who had an\ninclination to smoke opium, on one occasion, and to sniff cocaine, on\nanother?\n\nSuppose she had been better informed on the subject than she apparently\nwas. Suppose she happened to have a friend, who had been connected with\none of the state institutions for drug addicts, and this friend had told\nher about the inmates--how hopeless and pitiful their degradation\nwas--how abject their slavery to the drug sensation for which they\ncontinually yearned. No way has been found to cure them, because they\nhave no will to be cured. And the beginnings of the habit are so often\naccidental and trivial--curiosity, or bravado, or carelessness on the\npart of a practitioner. A Harvard college student, of good family, for\ninstance, was on a spree in Boston, with some friends--they went to an\nopium joint and thought it would be fun to try the sensation. This\nparticular boy remained in the den twenty-four hours, under the\ninfluence. That was the beginning--and the end. He went there again--he\ngot himself a lay-out--and is now a hopeless wreck in the state\ninstitution, twenty-one years old. Another is a society woman who was\ngiven a dose of heroin and that one dose proved sufficient for her\nundoing. The craving for it came and she wanted more and more.\n\nOr suppose some one had told her about a very remarkable case which came\nto my attention, a number of years ago. Four young physicians were\nassociates on the staff of one of our leading medical institutions. A\nconsiderable part of their time was devoted to research work and among\nother things they started experimenting with the effects of cocaine,\nwhich was a comparatively recent discovery. They were brilliant young\nmen of unusual character and promise, but all four succumbed to the\ncocaine habit. The last of them died in pitiful degradation, within five\nyears of their first experiment.\n\nExperience has shown that just as there are certain poisons which the\nbodily functions are unable to resist, so there are certain drugs which\nhave the effect of sapping the will and distorting the judgment. The\ncraving which they leave in their wake may very easily become so\ncompelling that human nature cannot resist it.\n\nSo that if any society woman has sufficient understanding of the\nsubject, there is plenty of reason why she should dismiss an inclination\nto try opium-smoking, or cocaine sniffing. The impulse is mere whim,\nsilly curiosity--the consequences may be degrading, terrible.\n\nBut if she believes in paying no heed to the conventional ideas of other\npeople, and is lacking in experience and knowledge of her own, she may\nbe very well pleased with herself for her daring. \"Fools rush in where\nangels fear to tread\"--that is an old saying which suggests that\nignorant people, defying the counsels of experience, were known to exist\nbefore now--only in the past they were called \"fools,\" whereas to-day\nthey prefer to be considered \"exponents of advanced thought,\" with a\nsuperior point-of-view, inaugurating a new era of \"emancipation.\"\n\nIt is not my purpose here to go on multiplying examples. I merely wished\nto indicate as simply and clearly as possible an underlying, fundamental\nprinciple. It is at work in countless ways, in everybody's life, nearly\nall the time. Personal impulses and inclinations may be very\nshort-sighted, very unlovely, very unworthy. Greed, murder, arson, lust,\ntheft, lying, betrayal--are only a few samples of the variety of\nimpulses which may come and do come frequently to various individuals\nupon occasion.\n\nOur own limited experience and a little reason may be a sufficient guide\nin many cases. They teach us to overrule certain inclinations, whose\nconsequences we understand and which we deem contrary to our interests.\n\nIn many other cases, the consequences may be just as contrary to our\ninterests, though they lie beyond our own experience and present\nunderstanding. For that reason people have been taught throughout the\ncenturies to accept and be guided by the accumulated experience and\nwisdom of those who have gone before. This accumulated experience has\nbeen preserved and made available to each new generation, in many\nways--traditions, conventions, customs, familiar quotations, standard\nbooks, the schools and the Bible. Most of all, it has been the special\ncare and function of parents to instill it into their children. For the\nfirst ten or fifteen years of life, children are constantly being told\nwhat to do and what not to do, in all sorts of contingencies. And what\nthey are told is the result of accumulated experience in crystallized\npractical form.\n\nIn the days of obedience, discipline and fear of punishment, children\naccepted and respected this guidance, as authoritative. They formed the\nhabit of doing not what they felt like, but what was considered right\nand best for them. Very often the true reasons, the complicated motives\nand remote consequences, involved in a question of conduct were not\ncomprehended by the young people, and only vaguely sensed by their\nparents. They were traditional ideas, generally approved by right-minded\npeople and passed along. Their origin, in nearly all cases, was the\naccumulated experience and wisdom of people who did comprehend.\n\nSo it happens that a young woman, or a young man, of the new school,\nwithout respect for old-fashioned teachings, and with insufficient\nexperience, or knowledge of their own, can fall into the error of\nimagining that their selfish interests are best served by gratifying\neach passing inclination.\n\nTheir first shallow mistake, as I have tried to show, is in overlooking\nthe lessons of others' experience.\n\nThis whole point-of-view, of course, is absolutely selfish and for the\ntime being, I have been content to meet them on their own ground and\nanswer them in terms of absolute selfishness. Even on the assumption\nthat a human being is a kind of animal, which feels no need of\nconsideration for others' welfare, and is devoid of any higher\naspirations than a full measure of selfish enjoyment--even then, purely\nas a question of intelligence, a matter of policy, there are excellent\nreasons why various impulses and inclinations should be resisted and\ndenied. The nature of these reasons I have attempted to suggest and make\nclear by some haphazard examples and as previously noted, the basis of\nthem all is Experience.\n\n\n\n\nIV\n\nAFFECTION\n\n\nThere remain two other sets of reasons why our selfish inclinations\nshould often be denied--affection and faith. They are of a higher and\nfiner order. We will take them one at a time.\n\nThe conscious life of a human being is by no means limited to the\nperception of sensations and the exercise of reason. These are important\nfunctions, but they are not all. A human being is also provided with a\nheart, which is capable of feeling sympathy for other human beings--for\nall living things. This sympathetic feeling may cover a wide\nrange--pity, commiseration, friendship, admiration, devotion, adoration.\n\nIt is not the nature of mankind to live an isolated existence, in\nloneliness. Boys and girls, men and women, from the beginning of life to\nthe end, yearn for the companionship of others with whom they can share\ntheir thoughts and feelings, their pleasures and their pains. Through\nassociation with others come affectionate feelings for certain ones. We\nattach ourselves to them with bonds of sympathy, understanding, love.\n\nThe feeling of affection is such a normal and essential part of human\nlife that it seeks to find expression at every opportunity. A\nwarm-hearted child will lavish it on a kitten, or a rag doll; or will\nshow it for a mongrel dog. If the kitten, or the dog is hurt, or sick,\nor even hungry, the girl or boy will be distressed by its trouble and\nwant to help it.\n\nThis is a primitive form of the feeling; carried to its full development\nin the heart of a sensitive, noble nature it becomes one of the most\nbeautiful and vital of human attributes.\n\nAs we share our thoughts and feelings with another and are allowed to\nshare his in return, our centre of interest expands, as it were, and the\nessence of life within us enriches itself by this sympathetic mingling\nwith the essence of the other. His thoughts, his feelings, his welfare\nare no longer a matter of indifference to us. As our sympathy and\nattachment grow, we become more and more concerned in this other's\ninterests; they become a part of our existence, in a strange and lovely\nway, just as real and just as dear to us as if they were our own. Any\npleasure, or good fortune, becomes doubly grateful, if we may share it\nwith him; no pleasure is worth considering, if in order to obtain it, we\nwould be obliged to cause him a deprivation. We cannot forget his\nwelfare, or his happiness, we do not wish to forget his welfare or his\nhappiness, because through our sympathy and affection, the essence of\nanother life has become inexpressively near and dear to us.\n\nTo a greater or less degree, this capacity for affection is inherent in\nhuman kind, from the lowest to the highest. It is a most precious human\nquality and it opens the gates of life to a sort of satisfaction that is\ninfinitely bigger and finer and more lasting than anything that can be\nobtained from the mere gratification of selfish and material impulses.\n\nNow, while it is true that practically everybody is aware of this\nfeeling and has a need for affection and sympathy, not all people by any\nmeans have big enough hearts, or fine enough natures, to respond to the\nneed very deeply. Cold, superficial, self-centered people may go through\nlife giving a very small modicum of sympathy or affection to anybody and\nreceiving very little in return. Many a man is incapable and unworthy of\nbeing a real true friend to anybody. He may have brains and breeding and\nplenty of animal desires, but in his heart there is no understanding of\nwhat it means to be devoted to a welfare not his own. The same is true\nno doubt of a great many women, those whose characters are too fickle\nand unstable to permit of any deep and lasting attachment. Fortunately,\neven in the case of such men and women, if they marry and have children,\nsome of the joy and meaning of this heart-life is still vouchsafed them.\nThey feel it for their sons and daughters.\n\nIf they have no children and are unmarried, there are mothers and\nfathers, brothers and sisters to keep alive some measure of sympathy and\nendearment. A human being who is totally bereft of such attachments,\nwithout any feeling that comes from the heart for any one, is such a\nrare exception that he need not be considered. Such lives, if they do\nexist, would appear to normal beings as very pitiful.\n\nAs a usual thing, for most of us, the affections are constantly in\noperation. Certain people who are near and dear to us are never really\nout of our lives at all. Consciously or subconsciously, we carry them\nwith us wherever we go, tucked away in our hearts, ready to rise up at\nthe slightest provocation and take a vital part in our innermost\ndeliberations.\n\nA little boy or girl of the right sort, with the right kind of loving\nparents, grows up naturally with this feeling for them. In all sorts of\nnew experiences and questions of conduct, the thought comes\nspontaneously: \"What will mother think about this?\" \"She'll be terribly\nsurprised when I tell her that.\" \"Father will be pleased and proud when\nhe knows what I've done.\" \"I don't think she'd approve of that.\" \"He'll\nlaugh at me, when he hears this.\" And so forth and so on, countless\ntimes, in countless connections.\n\nMothers and fathers carry around a similar feeling with regard to their\nchildren. Things that they see, things that they hear, things that they\nread, plans and projects of all kinds, are spontaneously colored by the\nconsideration of their effect on the son or daughter--surprise,\npleasure, disappointment, good or ill.\n\nThe same thing takes place to a remarkable extent between a man and a\nwoman who love each other deeply. Nothing of importance can happen to\none, without an immediate reflection of the effect and bearing it will\nhave on the other. A frequent result of this is that, in order to give\npleasure to the other, one will act contrary to his own selfish\ninclination. And the anticipation of this pleasure to be given to the\nother can be strong enough to transform this denial and deprivation of\nself into a sweeter and finer form of satisfaction.\n\nThis same order of feeling, based on sympathy and affection, springing\nfrom the heart, extends and ramifies and attaches itself in a great\nvariety of ways, in the life of a human being, as we have already\nsuggested.\n\nWhile instances of complete devotion of one nature to another are\ncomparatively rare, in any walk of life, and while most individuals are\nlacking in the bigness of heart and depth of feeling to be capable of\nit, under any circumstances, the importance of affection comes home to\nnearly everybody, to greater or less extent, and is treasured up as one\nof the essentials of life.\n\nAs a result of this human sympathy and affection, it would seem only\nnatural and obvious that there should come to everyone a realization of\nthe fact that in many of the things we do, for our own good or ill,\nother people besides ourselves can't help being concerned. We may, by\nthinking only of our own inclinations and seeking to gain our selfish\nends, be doing great harm and injustice to them. If other people are\naffected by what we do, and they have feelings of the same sort as ours,\nare not they, too, entitled to some consideration?\n\nThis idea seems so simple and evident that any thinking person might be\nexpected to admit it and understand it. Yet, as we have seen repeatedly\nin discussing the attitude of the new generation, it is one of the\nquestions about which there prevails the greatest misconception and\nconfusion of mind. Up-to-date young people, absorbed in the habit of\ndoing what they like and deciding for themselves, very easily fall into\nthe way of overlooking this consideration almost entirely. They fail to\ngrasp the importance of the part that sympathy and affection have been\nassigned to play in their own natures; and at the same time they lose\nsight of the feelings and interests of others who must be affected by\nthe consequences of their acts. Lack of consideration for others has\ncome to be spoken of currently as one of the marked characteristics of\nthis new generation.\n\nFor this reason, if for no other, it may be just as well to linger on\nthe subject and make explanations doubly plain, rather than leave any\npossible ground for a continuation of the confusion and\nmisunderstanding.\n\nSuppose you were walking along a country road and you came upon a nice\nlittle boy, named Harry, one of your neighbor's sons, and Harry was\nsitting hunched up on a stump, sniffling and sobbing, with tears\nstreaming down his cheeks. Upon enquiring the cause of his trouble, you\nlearn that a bigger boy, Jake, had taken away Harry's apple. Strictly\nspeaking, the apple didn't belong to either of them, but Harry had\nspied it on the tree and after a great deal of determined effort had\nmanaged to climb out on the branch and shake it down. Then Jake came\nalong and took it.\n\nNow, to see a little fellow sobbing with disappointment, deprived of\nsomething his heart was set on and which he had worked hard to get, is\nenough to arouse a feeling of sympathy in any normal and kindly person.\nYou feel sorry for Harry and you'd like to do something for him.\n\nSuppose you happen to look along the road, just then, and you spy Jake\nseated on a fence rail with an air of contentment, proceeding to eat the\napple--what would you feel like doing and saying to him? Suppose you\ncontrolled yourself and asked him quietly why he took that apple away\nfrom Harry, and he replied, with a defiant grin \"Because I wanted it. I\nlike apples, and this is a fine big one!\" If you continue to talk\nquietly to Jake, and show him Harry sobbing on the stump, and make him\nrealize the situation, as like as not it will end up by Jake's saying:\n\"All right--if he feels as bad as that, let him have it. I didn't know\nhe was that kind of a cry baby.\" And he will pass up his own\ninclination, rather than cause that much harm to another.\n\nThat is a very primitive example which illustrates the principle in its\nsimplest form. In the first place you are moved by sympathy and\nconsideration for another, when you feel sorry for Harry and want to\nhelp him, and so is Jake when he is willing to forego his own desire for\nHarry's sake--although he lacked consideration in the first place, in\ntaking something on which another's heart was set.\n\nHere is another example:\n\nA boy, George, is an only son and very dear to his parents, who have\nwatched over him always with loving care. During the summer vacation,\nGeorge has been invited to make a week's visit at the home of a\nschool-mate which is in another state. The trip is a longer and more\ncomplicated one than George has ever undertaken by himself, and his\nmother cannot help feeling apprehensive and anxious at the thought of\npossible accidents and emergencies which may occur. It involves a night\nrun on a steamboat, a railroad journey and a long automobile ride\nthrough mountainous country. The mother, not wishing to stand in the way\nof her boy's pleasure, gives a reluctant consent. She makes no attempt\nto disguise the anxiety she will feel while he is on the way, and\nimpresses on his mind the importance of sending her a telegram, as soon\nas he has arrived safely at his destination. George laughs at her fears,\nboy-fashion, and promises to do as she wishes.\n\nNo sooner has he started on his way, than the mother's heart enters upon\na period of increasing perturbation. Suppose something should happen to\nthe steamer--that it should break down, or catch fire, or run on a\nreef--or that there should be a railroad accident--or that George should\nlose his ticket, or be robbed of his money and find himself in some\nfar-away spot, not knowing what to do with no one to go to? Then that\nlong motor ride through deserted country--suppose it should be raining\nand the roads slippery and they should try to make it too fast? So many\nthings are among the possibilities, and one can never be sure until it\nis over.\n\nSome people might feel inclined to smile at this account of a mother's\napprehension, but it is only a natural attribute of devoted love,\nineffably sweet and beautiful. While the precious child is exposed to\npossible dangers, she cannot help feeling thus. She talks to the father\nabout it, wanting the comfort of his reassurance; and she lies awake\nthat night imagining things and counting the hours that must separate\nher from the telegram announcing George's safety.\n\nAt last the time comes when, according to schedule, she may expect the\nmessage. She waits about, in momentary suspense, for the telephone ring\nfrom Western Union.\n\nNow suppose the minutes pass and then the hours, until the mother's\napprehension grows into feverish and unreasoning alarm. She gets word to\nher husband and communicates her alarm to him. As more time passes, the\nconviction comes that something has happened to their son, and something\nmust be done. They attempt to get a long distance telephone connection\nwith the home of George's friend, but after a long delay and various\nappeals, the report comes that there is a break-down on the line\nsomewhere, in the mountain section. They get in communication with the\nsteamboat offices and the railroad station, and after interminable\nefforts finally ascertain that there has been no accident on either\nline. There remains the motor trip--or the possibility of a personal\nmishap to George at some stage of the journey--and no way of telling. In\nthe end, they send a telegram to the mother of George's friend, and\nresign themselves to wait, in an agony of suspense for the answer.\n\nIndividuals who are phlegmatic, matter-of-fact, and not very intense in\ntheir feelings might be inclined to ridicule this anxiety and suffering\non the part of the parents, for so slight a cause; they would fail to\nunderstand it. But any mother with children of her own would understand\nperfectly and be moved to genuine and heart-felt sympathy.\n\nThe condition of George's mother would naturally evoke the same sort of\ncompassion as the spectacle of Harry on the tree stump, sobbing for his\napple.\n\nBut what of the Jake, in this case--the prime factor of the problem? The\nJake in this case, of course, is no other than our only son, George. No\ntrouble of any sort was experienced by him in the various stages of his\njourney. Upon his arrival, there were a number of new people to meet and\nvarious elements of interest in the new surroundings to occupy his\nattention. For the time being, he forgot to think of the mother he had\nleft behind.\n\nHours later, as they are starting a game of tennis, it suddenly occurs\nto him that he has not yet sent his telegram home, but as it would be a\nbother to go back to the house now and he feels like going ahead with\nthe tennis game, he makes a mental note and puts it off. It is not until\ndinner time that he thinks of it again and when he finds that the\ntelephone is out of order and he would have to motor in to the telegraph\noffice, its doesn't seem worth the trouble. He has allowed so much time\nto go by already that he decides the most satisfactory way out of it is\nto wait until he finds time to write a letter and explain, as an excuse\nfor not keeping his promise, that the telephone wasn't working.\n\nBefore he has an opportunity to write his letter, the telegram arrives\nfrom home disclosing his mother's anxiety--whereupon he feels ashamed\nand sorry, and hurries to the telegraph office to send a reply.\n\nThis is a more or less typical example of a great many cases where lack\nof consideration for others is not necessarily due to a lack of\naffection or sympathy, but comes from a lack of thoughtfulness and\nunderstanding. George may love his mother very much and he would not\nvoluntarily hurt her feelings, or be the cause of her suffering. The\nsight of his mother in tears would cause him unhappiness and he would\ngladly make a real sacrifice in order to comfort her. But the sight of\nhis mother's suffering, or the thought of his mother's suffering, is not\nbefore him--it does not enter into his calculations or motives of\nconduct. In order for this to take place, a certain amount of reflection\nand imagination is required on his part.\n\nIn the case of Harry and Jake and the apple, we assumed that some one\ncame along and called Jake's attention to the unhappiness of Harry.\nWhen Jake was made to see and realize, he responded with a feeling of\nconsideration.\n\nBut in the case of George and the vast majority of cases where this\nquestion is involved, no one comes along to explain to you. If the\npleasure or pain of others is involved in what you do, the thought of\nthat must come from yourself. Very often those others are not present at\nthe time and the consequences may not be immediately and superficially\napparent. Imagination, reflection, and a habit of mind, may be needed to\nrealize the effect upon them.\n\nSuppose you have a friend named Brown whom you have known many years and\nhave a good deal of affection for. An unexpected opportunity offers for\nyou to get a week's hunting in the South and you think how fine it would\nbe, if you can get the right sort of companion to share it with you. You\nsee Brown, tell him about it, invite him and he accepts. You immediately\nstart in making plans and arrangements--dogs, guns, food,\ndrinks--leaving nothing undone to make it a bang-up affair and give\nBrown and yourself the time of your lives. Now suppose when you have\nfixed up everything and are waiting in joyful anticipation for the hour\nto arrive, you receive word from Brown, with apologies and a lame\nexcuse, that he must deprive himself of the pleasure of going with you?\nAnd suppose you discover later, in an accidental way, that the real\nreason Brown left you flat was because something else turned up that\nappealed to him more and he was thinking only of himself?\n\nSuppose, now, you are a society lady, or a society man, and you have\naccepted an invitation from a woman friend to motor out to her country\nplace and dine and spend the night--and suppose when the day arrives,\nyou are offered a box at the opera, that night, to hear Caruso? As this\nappeals to you much more than the other, you send a wire to the country\nat the last minute, pretending an indisposition, and go to the opera.\nWhat of the woman friend--who had made special efforts and invited\ncertain people on your account, and had counted on you as a main\nconsideration in her whole affair? Your absence upsets her completely,\nspoils her party, and robs her of something on which she had spent a\ngood deal of time and effort and on which her heart was set.\n\nIf she ever discovers or suspects the true reason for your desertion,\nyou will have inflicted a wound in her feelings that few friendships can\nsurvive and the loss of a friend in this world is hardly to be regarded\nas a trifling matter.\n\nThese few examples which we have cited and a countless multitude of\nothers, of a more or less similar nature, which might be drawn from the\neveryday experiences of any human being, tend to make plain the palpable\ntruth--that very often other people besides ourselves are concerned in\nour actions and we do violence to our better feelings and theirs, if we\nleave them out of consideration. Even up-to-date young people of the\nmost selfish order can hardly fail to recognize that and admit it, in\ncertain instances--when the others are before their eyes, or the effect\nupon them is so direct and immediate that it cannot escape their\nattention. In such instances they respond instinctively to the finer\nside of their natures, where sympathy and affection are found. But just\nas soon as an effort of reflection and imagination is required to\nrealize this same effect on others, there is no longer the same\nresponse. The will and the faculty to do this appear, somehow, to be\nlacking; so that they lose sight of this consideration very easily, and\nleave it out of account as a controlling influence. Some one else has to\ndirect their attention, do the thinking for them and appeal to their\nfeelings, in order to restore the equilibrium.\n\nThis difficulty of voluntary reflection and understanding on their part\nis still greater when it comes to another phase of the question, which\nis one degree more complicated, but no less vital in its bearing on the\naffections. You cannot do evil things, or act in such a way as will\nbring harmful consequences upon yourself, without causing suffering to\nthose who love you. If your mother is very sweet and gentle and loves\nyou devotedly and you have a good deal of tender affection for her, you\nwould not think of striking her a blow on the face with your clenched\nfist. No impulse within you, however selfish, could make you do that.\nYet the pain from such a blow would be as nothing compared to the\nsuffering you might cause her by smoking opium or sniffing cocaine or\ndoing something dishonorable, like forging your father's signature.\n\nNone of these things affect her directly or personally, but\nsympathetically, through her love for you.\n\nSo it is in the case of the boy who, after promising not to drive over\nthirty miles an hour, goes speeding on the highway and gets arrested.\nThe fine which has to be paid by father is an infinitesimal part of the\nharm and hurt which is caused the parents.\n\nYou cannot sit in a draft and catch a heavy cold, without causing a\ncertain amount of anxiety and distress to your sister, or your wife, who\nare devoted to you--if it runs into pneumonia, the hurt to them is\ngreater; and if you happen to die of it, that may release you from\nfurther suffering, only to make theirs heaviest of all.\n\nI went to a dance, last summer, at the home of a young married couple in\na fashionable community. The hostess was rather an extreme example of\nthe up-to-date school, with the well formed habit of looking at things\nfrom the point-of-view of her own inclinations.\n\nAfter the dancing had been going on a short while, she found she was not\nin the humor for it; the men who asked her to dance didn't interest her,\nand she felt like going to bed. Being a firm believer in individualism\nand thinking only of herself, she quietly withdrew and went to bed.\n\nA number of her guests had not yet arrived. When they did and sought to\ngreet their hostess, inquiries were made and in the end everybody was\napprised of her behavior. She imagined that it concerned only herself,\nwhereas the sympathy, affection, the kindly attitude which all those\npeople were disposed to have for her suffered a shock. A touch of\nresentment and antipathy was left behind which would make itself felt in\nfuture relations. The sympathy and affection of those about us is a part\nof life too precious and necessary to our well-being to be lightly cast\naside. The loss to us and to them, however trifling in any one\ninstance, may in the course of time involve lasting consequences.\n\nIn the various examples we have cited so far, it has been a question of\nhurting or depriving others, through lack of consideration. A similar\nmotive comes into play in prompting us to bestow pleasure upon others.\nHuman sympathy causes us to delight in the joy of those we love, just as\ntheir sorrow saddens us. We like to give them presents, prepare\nsurprises for them, devise ways and means of adding to their happiness.\nSuch acts on our part are usually accompanied by a very sweet and lovely\nfeeling of sentiment. Our hearts are warmed by the thought and sight of\nthis good that is coming to those we love. Some cynical and shallow\nreasoners like to argue that such acts are only a disguised form of\nselfishness because, as we have a sympathetic share in the pleasure, we\nbenefit by it, ourselves. Any such argument is usually found to be no\nmore than a quibble on words and a pretense of cleverness. Nevertheless,\nas this sort of talk is liable to crop up at any time, in connection\nwith human motives, and cause a confusion of idea, it may be just as\nwell to pause for a moment and dispose of it.\n\nIf you find our little friend Harry sobbing on a tree stump because he\nhas lost his apple, you feel sorry for him--because you understand and\nsympathize. If you had an apple in your pocket, you would give it to\nhim. You are not thinking of yourself--you are thinking of him. If Jake\ncomes along and restores the apple and Harry stops crying and offers\nJake half, the feeling of gladness that comes to you has nothing selfish\nin it at all. There is no motive or calculation of self-gratification in\nthe sentiments you have experienced. They are inspired, not by the\nthought of your own welfare, but the welfare of another. The essence of\nthem is sympathy and affection.\n\nSo it is with countless acts of kindness which frequently involve the\nneed of denying our selfish inclinations--depriving ourselves of\npersonal gratifications--for the sake of helping others who are in\ntrouble, or bringing pleasure to those we love. The first\nconsideration--the true determining motive--is not any thought of the\nbenefit to ourselves, but the benefit to them. In every-day language the\nword used to characterize such acts and feelings is generosity--and this\nis properly and popularly considered the exact opposite of selfishness.\n\nNow because it has been observed by thoughtful people that acts of\ngenerosity are frequently accompanied by a feeling of satisfaction and\ngladness, this fact has been seized upon by a certain order of\ncold-blooded individuals as a pretext for distorting the truth. They\nargue that this feeling of satisfaction with yourself which comes from\ngenerosity is such a desirable thing in your eyes that you want it for\nyourself--consequently when you show kindness and sympathy for others\nyou are obeying the same motive as the cynic, himself, who having small\nsympathy for others, prefers the frank gratification of his own ego.\nThis, of course, is pure sophistry. But if any mind is so kinked that it\nmust reason that way, there is a simple answer which will suffice to\nbring it through the question to the main point. Whenever the pleasure\nto be derived by an individual comes to him through sympathy and\naffection and consideration for the feelings of another--that sort of\npleasure is so different in its origin and its essence from the pleasure\nwhich comes from the gratification of personal appetites and desires\nthat the mass of mankind has recognized the difference since the\nbeginning of civilization.\n\nOne kind of pleasure flows from acts of sentiment for others' sake; the\nother kind is rooted in the indulgence of personal desires. The essence\nof one is usually characterized as generosity; the other, selfishness.\nIf the cynic will promise to keep the distinction clear in his head and\nstop confusing himself with quibbles or words, he may call the motives\nany names he likes.\n\nThis question of consideration for others is so important and\nfar-reaching in its effect on human lives that no pains should be spared\nto keep it from being lost sight of or misunderstood. And yet, as we\nhave observed, at the present time, among up-to-date individuals, it is\napparently being lost sight of, more and more. In a general way, it is\nbeing bunched with those other old-fashioned notions and conventions\nthat were wont to interfere with the freedom of the individual. Why\nshould an emancipated ego, brought up in the modern way, be constantly\nbothered by the thought of others?\n\nIf we pause and examine this attitude of mind, dispassionately, from\nanother angle, a possible explanation suggests itself. There may be two\nreasons, of a distinct and different sort why any given person might\nfail to feel the significance of so vital a part of life.\n\nIn the first place, some natures may be rather lacking in the qualities\nof affection and sympathy. All people are not alike, in this respect, by\nany means. Some are instinctively warm-hearted and intense in their\nfeelings--others are naturally inclined to coldness and indifference. To\na cold nature, the woes or pleasures of others are of comparatively\nminor consequence. There is no rush of heart-felt sympathy, if the\nsupply is so thin and weak that it hardly suffices for the needs of\nself.\n\nThat is one explanation of how certain natures, if left to their own\nresources, can be lacking in consideration.\n\nBut if we are right in assuming that the general run of human nature is\nmuch the same to-day as it has always been, there ought to be the same\ninstincts of sympathy and affection, the same kind of warm-hearts among\nour new generation, as there were in the time of our grandmothers. As\nconsideration for others is founded on these, there must be some other\nexplanation for the lack of consideration which is a growing tendency,\nobvious to all.\n\nThe truth of the matter seems to be that consideration for others is not\na primitive instinct like hunger or thirst; nor is it a simple, inborn\nquality or impulse, like affection or sympathy. It requires a certain\namount of thoughtfulness, reflection and control of self, in order to\ntransfer one's attention from one's own inclination and interest to the\nwelfare of another, especially when that other is not at hand to offer a\nreminder or make an appeal.\n\nBut under proper guidance, through enlightenment and constant exercise,\nthis faculty is susceptible of such development that it may in time\npermeate the mind, become an essential part of the character, a sort of\nsecond nature, just as real and solid, and infinitely more lovely than\nthe instincts which it dominates.\n\nThe capacity and capability necessary for this development are present\nto a greater or less extent in all human natures. But through neglect\nand mismanagement and lack of enlightenment and exercise, they may\nshrivel and fade and contribute very little to beauty of character, or\nthe joy of living.\n\nIn the light of the foregoing observations, there is nothing in the\nattitude of the new generation toward this whole question which remains\nincomprehensible, or even very puzzling. Their advanced ideas, when\nsifted down, would seem to signify no more than insufficient development\nof the finer and better side of their natures, and a lack of\nunderstanding concerning the important role which affection and sympathy\nare capable of playing in the search for happiness. This part of their\ntraining and education has been neglected, somehow, in the confusion\narising from lost traditions and standards. An essential and beautiful\npart of their humanity has been allowed to shrivel away until it has\nbeen lost sight of in their calculations.\n\nIn all the past periods of our civilization, when obedience and\ndiscipline held sway, no such over-sight was likely to occur. One of the\nfirst lessons repeatedly and forcibly impressed upon every growing\nindividual was the necessity of considering other people's wishes. There\nwere three people at least, who had always to be considered--mother,\nfather and God. Consideration of these would be rewarded and lack of\nconsideration, sooner or later, was sure to bring punishment.\n\nIn this old-fashioned way--crudely, if you will, but nevertheless with\nrelative effectiveness--a habit of mind, was established, involving\nself-control, which readily became second nature. It became almost\ninstinctive to pause in the presence of temptation or selfish\ninclination, and consider the effect upon others. Once this habit was\nformed, the teachings of mother and father, of Sunday school, church and\nBible all tended to develop it and extend its application--love your\nfellows, let your sympathy and affection flow out to them, consider\ntheir welfare, in all that you do, and you will be blessed and happy.\n\nHow is that habit of mind--that second nature--being acquired to-day and\nhow will it be acquired in the future, among people who have ceased to\nrespect the traditions of the past and are pleased to accept the idea of\nthe freedom of the individual, the right to gratify yourself and every\ninclination, without fear or favor?\n\nMust there be a return to the old-fashioned methods and beliefs? Nothing\nis more unlikely. As a reaction against the present tendency, there may\nbe efforts on the part of some well-intentioned people to return to the\nregime of obedience, discipline and the fear of God. But such reactions\ndo not usually last very long. The next step that will help toward the\nreal solution of the problem must be forward, not backward. The\nunderlying reason why the old formulas have been losing their prestige\nis probably because there were fallacies and crudities contained in them\nwhich humanity has outgrown.\n\nYou might look back with longing to the happy state you were in when you\nbelieved in Santa Claus, but after you have reached a certain age, all\nthe king's horses and all the king's men cannot bring Santa Claus back\nto you again.\n\n\n\n\nV\n\nFAITH\n\n\nIf the life of man were confined to the exercise of his senses and\nmaterial instincts, there would be no problems of conduct. There would\nbe perceptions and sensations,--some pleasant, others disagreeable.\nAppetites and desires would make themselves felt and he would seek to\nsatisfy them.\n\nThe underlying motive of all his acts would be to prolong life, go\ntoward pleasure and away from pain.\n\nAll about us are living things--plants, fish, animals--whose existence,\nas far as we know, seems limited to these simple considerations. They\nform part of man's life--one side of his nature--the animal side.\n\nIf, in addition to this life of the senses, we concede to man a brain, a\nthinking apparatus, which enables him to remember, compare, calculate,\nthe question of his conduct at any given time is apt to become more\ncomplicated, through considerations of reason. As we have seen in our\nprevious discussions, his brain may decide him to forego a present\npleasure, in order to escape a future pain; or to endure a present pain,\nfor the sake of a future pleasure.\n\nStill, the mere addition of a reasoning mind, would in no way alter the\nnature of the underlying motive. The considerations would still remain\npurely animal--prolonging life, getting the greatest sum of pleasure,\navoiding the greatest sum of pain.\n\nIt is not until we begin to take note of the sympathies, affections,\ngenerous emotions of which man is capable, that we recognize another and\ninner nature, which may be concerned and moved by considerations that\ndon't depend upon sensations, or selfish instincts and are not, in their\nvery essence, animal at all. In every day language, this is the heart\nand the heart-life of man. It is as far removed from the brain, as it is\nfrom the senses. The brainiest people may be the least affectionate and\nthe least generous--just as the most sensual people may so be.\n\nWe have seen, in discussing this side of human nature, the bearing it\nhas on the conduct of the individual. More delicate and more complicated\nmotives and considerations are introduced into the problem through its\ninfluence. Its essence is sweeter, finer, less obvious and more\nelevating than the instincts which the brute beasts share with us.\n\nBut sensations, calculations and sympathetic emotions are still not\nenough to explain some of the most important questions and decisions\nthat enter into the life of man. Above and beyond all these, deeper,\nvaguer, more complicated and more inspiring, is another function or\nquality--another side of his nature--which distinguishes him completely\nfrom all the other earthly creatures. This is the spiritual side, the\nsoul,--the home of conscience, honor, responsibility, idealism.\n\nLet us begin with some simple examples:\n\nIf a big bully kicks a little boy; or a man deserts his friend in the\nhour of need; or an innocent person is sent to prison;--a feeling of\nprotest arises within me. It tells me such things ought not to be. They\nare not right, they are wrong.\n\nMy self-interest has nothing to do with it. As far as I am personally\nconcerned, none of these things makes the slightest difference.\n\nIf I turn to my intellect, that offers me no explanation. It tells me\nthat the bully is only obeying his natural instincts, in the same way a\ncat does when it springs on a mouse. It is logical and proper for each\nand every living thing to act in accordance with its impulses. As for\nthe man who deserts his friend, he is merely looking out for himself--a\nperfectly reasonable thing for any one to do. When we come to the third\ncase, my intellect tells me that the person sent to prison was given a\nfair trial in accordance with the laws--the evidence was against\nhim--and he was adjudged guilty. Because I happen to know that he was\ninnocent, does that make the occurrence any less reasonable? As I was\nnot concerned in it, I cannot be held accountable, so what difference\ndoes it make to me?\n\nMy affections give me the same negative response as my self-interest and\nmy reason. The bully, the small boy; the man and his friend; the\ninnocent person--they are strangers to me; no personal attachment\napplies to any of them.\n\nAnd yet the feeling within me is unmistakable. Where does it come from?\nThat other side of my nature, where dwells the sense of right and wrong.\n\nIt is just as vague and mysterious, but just as real as another kind of\nsense to which it may be compared. This other sense also baffles the\nintellect, but it is none the less generally recognized and accepted.\n\nCertain kinds of music, sunsets, moonlight nights, paintings, arouse in\nme a delicate feeling of pleasure, mixed with admiration. It is not\nonly my physical sensations which are involved--my eyes and my ears--but\nsomething deeper within me which seems to be quite apart from reason or\nintellect.\n\nAlso my interest and attention are by no means confined to the\nsensations which I am experiencing; I consider the things themselves and\ncall them beautiful. Certain other sounds and sights strike me as\ndiscordant, or unpleasant, and I call them ugly. And the faculty within\nme which determines this, I call a sense of Beauty.\n\nIn the same way, this other sense within me is appealed to by certain\ndeeds and qualities of men. That which is fine, just, generous, noble, I\ncall right; another sort of thing, of a contrary tendency, I call wrong.\nAnd the faculty, itself, I call a sense of right and wrong.\n\nSuppose an individual walking along a road, wondering how he is going to\nraise fifty dollars which he needs very badly, comes upon an automobile\nstanding in a lonely spot; and then sees a lady who has been picking\nwild-flowers, get into the automobile and after fussing with her\nflowers, her wrap, her hand-bag and handkerchief, let drop some small\nobject to the ground, before driving away. He strolls up to the spot and\npicks up the object, which proves to be a purse containing eighty\ndollars in bank-notes. There is no one in sight, and after a moment's\nhesitation, obeying an impulse of self-interest, he pockets the money,\nthrows the purse into the bushes and turns his steps another way.\n\nAs far as his self-interest and his intellect are concerned, they agree\nin telling him he is very lucky. He has obtained the money which he\nwanted, he has broken no law, and there is not the slightest risk or\ndanger of any sort involved in his conduct. He can pay his debt and have\nmoney to spare, with every reason to feel happy over his good fortune.\n\nBut if the spiritual side of his nature is at all developed, he is apt\nto be tormented by a vague, persistent feeling of another kind. It tells\nhim he has done something unworthy of his better self. In every day\nlanguage, we say he is troubled by his conscience.\n\nIt not infrequently happens that individuals who have done wrong are so\naffected by this feeling that they make restitution and confession when\nthey are safely beyond the reach of detection.\n\nNeither the intellect nor self-interest plays any part in such conduct,\nwhich is contrary to the advice of both. It is inspired uniquely by this\nsoul-feeling, called conscience.\n\nSlightly different from this, but belonging to the same family, is the\nsentiment of honor.\n\nA number of years ago, a young man whom I knew, happened to go to a\nnotorious gambling house in New York, with a couple of companions. One\nof these young men was a member of a wealthy family and had been\nfrequently to this place, where he was always most welcome. My friend\nheld a clerical position in a financial institution, was making his own\nliving, and at the time had about fifteen hundred dollars in the bank,\nwhich represented his entire worldly assets. It was late at night, the\nyoung men had been to a party and were in rather a hilarious and\nreckless mood when they started playing roulette. After they used up the\nmoney they had with them, they were allowed to continue playing on\ncredit, chips being supplied to them as called for. My friend, after\nlosing more than he could afford, was urged by desperation to keep on\ntrying to recoup, and when he finally left the house, in the early hours\nof the morning, he had lost ten thousand dollars. That was the situation\nwhich faced him in his sober senses, the next day.\n\nA gambling debt has no standing in law. No legal claim of any kind could\nbe made against him and he was perfectly aware of the fact. The\nproprietor of the establishment was a thoroughly unscrupulous\nindividual with a shady record, and the games played there were open to\na suspicion of crookedness. My friend had previously been told that. He\nhad only to let the loss go unpaid and ignore the whole incident,\nwithout the slightest fear of consequences, so far as honest people were\nconcerned.\n\nBut this young man felt that such conduct would not be honorable. So he\nwent to the place again, explained to the proprietor his financial\nsituation and promised to pay off as much as he could, year by year,\nuntil the debt was cancelled. It took him five years to accomplish this,\nand during that time, he stuck faithfully to a resolve not to touch a\ncard or gamble in any way. Later on the young man became vice-president\nof one of the largest financial institutions in America, a position\nwhich he still holds. He had then, and still has a sense of honor.\n\nMany a gentleman of good breeding and fine feelings has told deliberate\nlies and perjured himself under oath, in order to shield the reputation\nof a lady. Even though he may be under no personal obligation to the\nlady in question, but merely an accidental witness of some occurrence, a\ncertain kind of man feels compelled by his sense of honor to protect\nher. It is not honest to tell a lie, it is a legal offense to perjure\none's self; there is no reason of the intellect to make you bear false\nwitness and defeat the ends of justice for the sake of an individual,\nwho may have done wrong and be deserving of punishment.\n\nYet so it is and among those who share this sense there is a beauty and\nnobility about such conduct which is akin to that of a sunset or moonlit\nnight.\n\nLet us take an example of a more commonplace kind in the business world.\nSuppose a certain individual, Jones, living in a small community has a\ncoal yard. When the autumn comes, Jones's bins are piled high and in\naddition to this, Jones has several carloads of coal on a siding, and\nnumerous other carloads in transit. Jones's brother, who is interested\nin a coal mine, has advised Jones that as there is prospect of a miner's\nstrike, he had better get his full winter's supply in advance, with a\nlittle extra and this has been so arranged. The strike takes place as\npredicted and then owing to war conditions in Europe, there comes a coal\nshortage throughout the land.\n\nWith the arrival of the first touch of winter various people in the\ncommunity begin sending orders to Jones. In the meantime, he has been\ndoing a little thinking. His customers have got to have coal and they've\ngot to buy it from him. Under existing conditions, there is no other\nway for them to procure it, at any price. So to speak, he holds them in\nthe hollow of his hand.\n\nHis entire supply has cost him five dollars a ton and he had figured to\nsell it at six, which would allow him his usual satisfactory profit. But\nnow it dawns upon him that if he refuses to sell a single ton of it for\nless than twenty dollars, his people will have to pay that, or freeze,\nand he will make more profit in this one winter than all the rest of the\nyears put together.\n\nSo he makes up his mind to put up his price to twenty dollars and to\nmeet all complaints by replying with a shrug that he is not asking any\none to buy--they are free to get their coal elsewhere.\n\nIs not Jones perfectly honest? Would any business man of the present day\nblame him? Is he not entitled to make all the money he can, in\naccordance with the laws? Is there not every reason for his intellect to\napprove of his shrewdness in taking advantage of his opportunity?\n\nBut suppose Jones's mother is a sweet, old-fashioned lady whom he has\nalways loved and revered; and suppose upon learning of the situation,\nshe calls her son to her side, takes his hand in hers and talks to him\nin this wise:\n\n\"My son, these people are all dependent upon you, to keep from\nfreezing. They are entirely at your mercy. To take advantage of helpless\npeople and fleece them of their savings, because unexpected\ncircumstances have placed them in your power, is not the kind of thing I\ncould bear to see you do. It does not seem to me quite worthy or\nhonorable.\"\n\nI have imagined it to be Jones's mother speaking thus; but if Jones's\nfather happened to be an old-fashioned gentleman of a certain type, or\nan artist, a poet, a musician, he might be moved by the same feeling--a\nmatter, not of honesty, but of honor.\n\nJones, however, being a typical business man of the present day, is not\nconscious of any such feeling. If by chance, an idea of this kind did\ncreep into his head, he would dismiss it as quixotic, not practical. He\nbelieves that \"business is business.\" If you ask him whether Shylock was\nright and justified in demanding his pound of flesh, he might hesitate a\nmoment, but after thinking it over, he would probably reply:\n\n\"If Shylock had a proper contract calling for such a penalty and had\nlent his money on those conditions, he was entirely within his rights.\nIf the other parties weren't prepared to live up to the terms of the\nagreement, they had no business to sign their names to it. That was\ntheir lookout. Their only recourse is to show something irregular or\nillegal in the way it was drawn up and quash it on that count, or else\nsettle up in accordance with its stipulations. Shylock had performed his\npart of the agreement and he demanded that the other party should do the\nsame.\"\n\nIf you questioned Jones further about himself, you might learn that he\nhad always believed and practiced the principle that \"Honesty is the\nbest policy,\" and nothing could swerve him from it. This has nothing to\ndo with that inner feeling called a sentiment of honor. It is of a\ndifferent essence entirely. When sifted down, it is found to consist of\nreason, experience and a matter-of-fact calculation of self-interest. If\nyou don't cheat, or break the laws, and establish a reputation for\nhonest dealing, you will gain more by it in the long run than you lose.\nNothing very inspired or inspiring about that, or very different in kind\nfrom the principle of the crook who says: \"If I take care to avoid\ndetection, but pay no attention to right and wrong, I will gain more in\nthe long run than I lose.\"\n\nThe detail of the calculation is different, but the motive and object\nare the same--self-interest and self-advantage. The soul, the\nconscience, the sentiment of honor are not involved in either.\n\nDuring the late war, tens of thousands of individuals and corporations\nfollowed Jones's example and chuckled with glee as the undreamed-of\nprofits rolled in. They took advantage of the situation and became what\nis known as profiteers. The brain and self-interest were acting over\ntime, but the spiritual nature was slumbering.\n\nSuppose you are making a visit to a business friend and he leaves you\nalone in his office for a few minutes, while he is called out by some\nemergency--and suppose he has left on his desk an envelope containing\nbusiness secrets which you could profit by--and suppose you take\nadvantage of your opportunity, open the envelope, glance at the papers,\nget the information and later on make good use of it?\n\nAn individual who is capable of doing that must be rather lacking in the\nsense of honor.\n\nIf a business man happened to tell his wife something of a confidential\nnature, as some husbands do, and the wife were indiscreet enough to\nmention it to your wife, without realizing its full import, and your\nwife repeated it to you, and you thereupon proceeded to communicate it\nto the business man's competitor--you might not break any law, or do\nanything dishonest, and your intellect might tell you there was profit\nfor yourself to be gained by it--and many another person in your place\nmight jump at the chance--but for all that, there ought to be a feeling\nwithin you to prevent you doing it, because it would not be honorable.\n\nIn the world of politics, some people might feel that it is not\nhonorable to use a position of public trust for private ends.\n\nSuppose you have it in your power to make an appointment which might\nprove very lucrative to a certain type of individual who has no scruples\nabout graft. Among your political henchmen there is just such an\nindividual and he wants the appointment. There is another man whom you\nmight appoint, if you chose to, a high-minded, public-spirited man,\nfitter and better for it in every way; but the political henchman was an\nimportant factor in obtaining for you the office which you now occupy;\nhis good will and influence may be very helpful in your future\ncampaigns, whereas the other man has done nothing for you and is without\npolitical influence. If you gave him the appointment, you would make an\nenemy of your henchman and his followers. Your self-interest and your\nintellect combine in showing you what a mistake that would be.\n\nUsually a politician, by the time he has been selected by other\npoliticians as a candidate for office, has become amenable to reason and\nmay be counted on to avoid such a mistake. But occasionally a gentleman\nof another sort finds himself in this position and he refuses to do the\nusual thing, because it goes counter to an inner feeling--his sense of\nhonor.\n\nSo it is with countless other questions of conduct, which at various\ntimes, in various communities, with various individuals, involve this\nfeeling. In some people it is highly developed and frequently determines\nthe motive of conduct, in a fine, noble, compelling way which is\ndirectly opposed to material considerations of self-interest. In other\npeople, it is so feeble, and crude that its wee small voice is seldom\nheeded or heard in the calculations and decisions of their practical\nlives.\n\nIn addition to the sentiments of honor and conscience and right and\nwrong, there are various other fine and noble feelings to which the soul\nof man is susceptible, to a greater or less extent, according to the\nindividual nature. Self-respect, loyalty, gratitude, responsibility,\nself-sacrifice may be cited, by way of suggestion.\n\nNow, while there can be no doubt that human nature is capable of all\nthese feelings and that individuals have been found to possess them, in\ndifferent communities, at different times, it is equally obvious that\namong vast numbers of other individuals they find little or no\nexpression.\n\nThere have been periods in the history of certain peoples when nearly\nall the nobler sentiments seem to have shrivelled up. The Roman Empire,\nwhen it was in its decay; the upper classes of England, after the\nRestoration; France, during the period which preceded the\nRevolution--are examples of such a condition. The leading citizens\nappear to have thrown conscience to the winds and let themselves go,\nwithout restraint, to a life of dissipation, corruption, and the\nindulgence of the senses.\n\nAlso in our country, among certain classes, in certain communities, it\nis quite apparent that the finer feelings, the moral standards, of the\naverage individual are at a lower ebb, than they seem to be in certain\nother sections.\n\nIn view of these observations, it is fairly safe to conclude that the\nspiritual feelings of man are subject to alteration, through an\ninfluence or influences of some sort. The same sort of influence that\nshows its general effect in a given class or community may be presumed\nto be at work on the nature or character of the individuals who compose\nthat community.\n\nIf the sentiment of honor, for instance, is a vital compelling force in\none individual, and is so weak or deficient in another as to be a\nnegligible quantity, what is the explanation of this difference? What\ninfluence has developed the sentiment in one, and retarded or\neliminated it in the other? On what does it depend? What causes it to\ncome to life in the human soul? What good is it, when it does come?\n\nThe same questions apply to conscience, loyalty, responsibility, right\nand wrong. Whence do they come--and what are they good for?\n\nThese questions are simple to ask--but when one attempts to answer them\nin a simple, convincing way, they are found to be full of hidden depths\nand complexities.\n\nDown below them, is another question which is included in them all and\nwhich sooner or later must be faced by each and every one of us: \"Why am\nI here on earth? Has my life any purpose in the great, everlasting\nscheme of things? What is that purpose?\"\n\nUntil we have arrived at some sort of an answer to that question, we\ncannot make much headway in answering the others.\n\nIf there were no purpose at all to an individual life, what difference\nwould it make whether he had a conscience or not?\n\nIf his purpose is to get as much satisfaction out of life as he can,\nbetween his birth and his death, why shouldn't he go about it in any old\nway that suits himself? What real difference does it make whether he\nchooses to indulge in alcohol, opium, and other dissipations for a\nshort while, or prefers to prolong his span by sticking to wheat,\npotatoes and sobriety? Purely a matter of personal taste, to be decided\nby each individual for himself.\n\nSuppose on account of his affections and sympathies for other\nindividuals, the idea occurs to him that he was meant to serve them,\nalso? What real difference would that make if their lives had no other\npurpose, either? They will all be dead very soon, anyhow, whether you\njoin with them in a mutual serving society, or not. If there is no other\nend in view for each and every one, but to live and die, what boots it?\n\nBut suppose it might be that after death their spirits could live on, in\nan unknown world? Even so, any service you happened to do for them,\nhere, would hardly be counted in their favor, over there.\n\nBut mightn't it be counted in your favor--over there? Isn't it possible\nthat every kind and helpful thing you do for your fellow men in your\nlife on earth might be to the advantage of your spirit in the other\nworld?\n\nSuppose it could be proved that this were the true purpose of life--to\nwin benefit and glory for your spirit in the world beyond?\n\n\"Well,\" you might reply, \"--if that is the way things stand, it would be\nputting a big premium on canny foresight. A cold-blooded, utterly\nselfish individual could make his calculations accordingly and feather\nhis future nest at every opportunity, while the rest of us poor devils\nwho couldn't calculate so well would be piling up future trouble.\n\n\"Is that what is meant by soul and conscience and honor? Does the\n'spiritual side of man's nature,' when stripped of its camouflage, mean\na shrewd calculation which seeks to gain a lasting reward for the\nspirit, after the body is used up?\"\n\nIn the face of such a question, of such a line of thought, there is\nsomething within us which revolts. If we can find words to express the\ncause and nature of this revolt, so much the better; but even if we\ncannot, a vague but unshakable feeling persists within us that any views\nof this sort are superficial, inadequate and uncomprehending.\n\nJust as we found, in connection with human sympathy and affection, that\ncold reason might make the mistake of trying to explain them in terms of\nselfishness, so we find that when reason undertakes to penetrate into\nthe human soul, it is apt to emerge with a distortion which lacks the\nessence of the whole thing.\n\nIn the first place, so far as reason goes, after countless generations\nof man on earth, what evidence has yet been discovered to prove\nconclusively that when a man dies, the spirit of him disengages itself\nfrom the dead body and goes on to an unknown world to continue life\nthere?\n\nWhen a dog dies, does the spirit of him do the same thing? A bird? A\nspider? A germ? A flower? They all have the spirit of life within\nthem--a wonderful complex life--and a struggle for existence on\nearth--of much the same sort as man's.\n\nI was talking to a charming lady, the other day, who said she firmly\nbelieves that the spirits of them all go on to a better world, along\nwith man's.\n\nBut whether they do, or whether they don't, what means has any intellect\nbeen able to find in all these centuries to settle the question and\nprove it scientifically, without fear of contradiction?\n\nEven if the intellect were satisfied to take so much for granted, at a\nguess, for the sake of having something to go by, there still remains\nthe same element of uncertainty surrounding the question: \"Why am I\nhere? If my spirit is the only part of me that is destined to live on,\nwhat was the need of chaining it for this short space of time to animal\ninstincts and a perishable body?\"\n\nAll sorts of theories have been advanced, in the search for a plausible\nexplanation, but again, in all the ages of civilization, no conclusive\nproof has been found that any one of them is the right one.\n\nIn ancient times the theory seemed to be that the purpose of life was to\ndevelop the body to its highest state of prowess and beauty and to make\nliberal sacrifices to the gods, in order to gain and retain their favor.\nThe idea seems to have been current for many centuries that when the\nspirit mounted to another world, it somehow carried the shape and\ncharacteristics of the earthly body along with it. Reason enough to make\nthe body strong and beautiful, if the spirit were to continue tied up to\nit eternally.\n\nEven in Shakespeare's time and all through the Middle Ages, whenever\ndeparted spirits were supposed to come back to earth to communicate with\nmortals, they always appeared in the same bodily form they had had on\nearth.\n\nOn this assumption, if one individual happened to die when his body was\nyoung and strong and handsome, his spirit would have an advantage over\nanother individual, who lasted on earth until his body was old, decrepit\nand ugly.\n\nIt may be that the unfairness of this thought had something to do with\nthe eventual discarding of the belief. It may also be that in the course\nof time and accumulated experience, the more advanced intellects arrived\nat the conclusion that sacrifices made to the gods had little\nperceptible effect on the course of events. In any case European\ncivilization appears to have arrived at a stage where it was ripe and\nready for another sort of conception.\n\nThis other conception was the unimportance and unworthiness of the body\nand all material things. The spirit was the only thing that signified\nand that was to be dedicated to the service of the Lord, as announced in\ndivine commandments. Sacrifices on the altar or gifts to the priests\nwould avail nothing, if the spirit were undutiful. The Lord was to be\nworshipped and addressed in prayer--and He was at all times prepared to\nmete out rewards and punishments in strict accordance to the deserts of\nthe spirit. Good and worshipful spirits would be blessed with\neverlasting life in paradise, while those who disobeyed the\ncommandments, or neglected to be baptized and worship in the ordained\nway would be consigned to eternal torture and damnation.\n\nThis theory was accepted by many millions of people and for a long time\nheld an awe-inspiring sway over their imaginations.\n\nAt the same time, in different parts of the world, India, China, Mexico,\nEgypt and various countries, a number of other theories concerning the\nspirit and the body were advanced as the basis of religious beliefs;\nand these were accepted by countless other millions of people with the\nsame awe-inspiring credulity.\n\nOne feature of these various religions which appears to apply to them\nall, is worth noting. Each professed the belief that their God or gods\nruled in supreme control of the entire universe, eternally, and that all\nother so-called gods and so-called religions of other peoples which\ninterfered with this idea must necessarily be false and spurious.\n\nIn this respect, our own Christian view is like the others. In pursuance\nof it, immense sums of money, untiring effort and many lives have been\nspent by devout believers to convince remote peoples of the error of\ntheir doctrines and the truth of ours.\n\nBut if an unbiased and impartial intellect were permitted to go about\namong all the different religious sects on earth, and found each and\nevery one proclaiming with the same fervid conviction the unique and\neverlasting truth of their doctrine and the error of all others, how far\ncould it get in the way of a reasonable conclusion?\n\nThere is a sort of conclusion, which appears fairly obvious.\n\nIf any one of the doctrines should in truth be all that is claimed for\nit--the divine revelation, or the divine inspiration, of an Almighty\nProvidence--then all the other doctrines can be no more than theories,\nmore or less ingenious, more or less erroneous, mere products of man's\nimagination. Then countless millions of people for countless generations\nhave been left to lead their lives without a right understanding of life\nor death, the body or the soul, or the real purpose or design for which\nthey were created and by which they will be judged? Only the few lucky\nones who happened to be born and brought up in the one true belief can\nhave the advantage of grasping the situation. To an impartial intellect,\nthere would seem to be something about such an arrangement hardly fair\nor just to all the other countless millions.\n\nBut even so, and admitting what is apparently obvious, how could any\namount of reasoning arrive at a decision in the matter?\n\nThere is nothing to prove that _all_ the theories and doctrines may be\nany more than guesses, bolstered up with impressive formalities and\nimagery, according to the needs and temperament, of the races for whom\nthey were made. Taken as a whole, they suggest a great confusion of\nideas and many curious contradictions concerning the purpose of man's\nearthly life and the destiny of his soul.\n\nHas man really a soul, at all? In what part of his body is it located?\nWhat ground is there for imagining that it is any more immortal than his\nheart or his eye? We can study the eye and dissect it and arrive at a\nfairly accurate idea of how it works. We know that it can be\nblinded--put out; also we know that if anything stops the heart from\nbeating, the eye, the brain and our other functions cease to operate and\nbecome transfixed in death. Why should this not apply as well to the\nsoul, if there is a function in man which goes by that name?\n\nEnough has been said to indicate a few of the difficulties which stand\nin the way, when we approach the consideration of man's spiritual\nnature. A study of the various religions and spiritualistic beliefs\nwhich are current in the world to-day would be a tedious task for the\naverage mind and would probably be of little practical use or help to\nany one.\n\nThe same may be said about the scientific theory of evolution. That is\nessentially an effort of the intellect, focusing the attention on\ndetails, processes and stages of development in living things and\narriving no nearer to a solution of the unexplainable than we were in\nthe beginning.\n\nSuppose I happen to be impressed by the beauty and wonder of an orange\ntree, with its golden, luscious fruit, its delicately tinted and\ndeliciously scented blossoms, its graceful leaves and branches, its\nsymmetrical trunk so firmly rooted in the ground? Merely as a piece of\nmachinery, as a little factory, designed to manufacture a certain kind\nof edible product, it is far more ingenious, economical and generally\nmarvellous than anything the combined brains of mankind have been able\nto design throughout the centuries. It is automatic, self-lubricating,\nself-repairing and goes on, year after year, in fair weather or foul,\nturning out its brand of juicy pulp, done up charmingly in little yellow\npackages. How does it operate? How does it always manage to get the\nnecessary raw materials from the earth and the air? How do the roots and\nthe leaves and the sap ever contrive to convert these into perfume and\nblossoms and pulp and pigment?\n\nNow suppose a scientific intellect comes along and, after investigating,\ndissecting, analyzing, eventually holds out before my eyes a tiny white\nseed which it has located in the centre of the yellow package--and says:\n\n\"This is the explanation of the whole thing. That orange tree is merely\nthe result, by a process of natural development and evolution, of this\nseed. We have studied it all out, step by step. If you will give us one\nof these seeds to start with and some ground to put it in, there is no\nmystery about it at all. We can show you how the whole thing happens. Of\ncourse, it takes considerable time--but time is nothing to Nature. In\nthis case, only four or five years are required for the seed to become\ntransformed into a fruit-bearing orange tree.\"\n\n\"But,\" say I, \"your investigations and explanations only add to my\namazement. The design and formation of that little seed is even more\nwonderful and incomprehensible than the full-grown orange tree. Within\nits tiny compass, it not only contains all the complicated miraculous\nprocesses which convert earth and air and water into fragrant blossoms,\njuicy pulp and golden oranges, but it contains in addition to that,\nother miraculous powers which enable it to develop and transform itself\ninto a special kind of beautiful tree, with roots and branches and\nleaves. As compared to this one little seed, all the greatest inventions\nand achievements of man seem like the crudest bungling.\"\n\n\"Tut, tut,\" replies the scientific intellect, \"this is only one sort of\nseed. There are hundreds, thousands of others, some so small that they\nlook like grains of dust. Each one of these is a complete manufacturing\nplant, perfect in every detail, each designed to turn out a special\nkind of product, different from all the others. One of the most\nremarkable points about them is that they require no special\nmaterials--each and every one of them makes use of the same common\ningredients, earth, air, light, water. From those ingredients, this\nlittle machine, for instance, working automatically, can turn out a\ngiant red-wood tree, which will last for centuries. This other little\none, next to it, working in the same way, will produce thousands upon\nthousands of roses, of a certain beautiful shade of color and a certain\ndelicate fragrance. And so it is with all these other little machines,\nwhich we call seeds,--however amazing the difference in the kind of\nproduct, it is due entirely to certain subtle differences in their\ndesign.\"\n\n\"But,\" say I, \"what sublime intelligence conceived the plan of those\nmachines, and what kind of sublimely skilful craftsman was able to\nfashion them?\"\n\n\"They were made automatically by the various trees and plants.\"\n\n\"But who conceived the plan of the trees and plants?\"\n\n\"The trees and plants were produced automatically by other little seeds,\nlike these.\"\n\n\"But the first one of these seeds, or the first one of these trees--who\nconceived and executed that?\"\n\n\"Oh, that,\" says the scientific intellect, \"came about through a process\nof evolution, which extends way back thousands of centuries. We have\nstudied it carefully and reasoned it all out to our entire satisfaction.\n\n\"These plant seeds are only one part of it. There are also all the\nanimals and animalculae, including man. There are thousands of different\nkinds of living creatures and each kind has a distinct design from all\nthe rest, which appears to have been determined by the special purpose\nfor which it was intended.\n\n\"As a matter of fact, they are nothing more or less than the results of\nevolution, natural selection and the survival of the fittest. All we\nrequire for the demonstration of our theory, is a little bit of\nprotoplasm at the beginning of things and a mass of elemental matter in\nan unformed state.\"\n\n\"But,\" say I, \"are you sure you are not trying to befuddle me and\nbefuddle yourself by the use of obscure words? You use the word\n\"protoplasm\"--but if you mean by that a kind of machine, like the orange\npit or the red-wood seed, your evolution theory and your scientific\nchain of reasoning and all your big words merely bring us back to the\npoint where we started and really explain nothing at all. The orange\nseed, if left to itself in the midst of elemental matter will produce a\ncertain kind of tree and countless oranges. A bit of protoplasm, if left\nto itself in the midst of elemental matter, will not only produce an\norange tree and a red-wood tree, but an elephant, a spider, a human\nbeing--all the countless species of living things to be found in the\nuniverse. It may take the protoplasm a longer time to turn all this out,\nbut it is a bigger job and time is of small account in such a\nconsideration.\n\n\"All I can say is that I prostrate myself in abject and bewildered\nadmiration before that bit of protoplasm. If anything could be more\nwonderful than the orange seed with which we started, your protoplasm is\ncertainly it. It is a miracle of a million miracles.\n\n\"But there is one thing you forgot to tell me--the only thing of any\nreal interest or importance to the average mind in such a theory. What\nsublime intelligence conceived the plan of that bit of protoplasm--and\nwhat kind of sublimely skilful craftsman was able to fashion it?\"\n\n\"Oh that,\" says the scientific intellect--\"that just happens to be one\npoint which our chain of reasoning has not yet been able to demonstrate\nin a logical and satisfactory way. We have left that out of our theory.\"\n\n\"Well then,\" say I, \"here are trees and flowers and animals and mankind,\neach perfectly adapted for the special function on earth for which they\nwere apparently designed. The plan of them appears to have been\ndetermined, somewhere, somehow, by a sublime intelligence which\nsurpasses understanding, for some sublime purpose, apparently, which I\nam yearning to know. All the details, complications and assumptions of\nyour theory when boiled down to simple terms seem more or less of a\nquibble on words and meanings.\n\n\"Your conclusions are of much the same sort as those of the intellectual\ncynic whom we quoted in connection with sympathy and affection. He\nundertook to prove with a chain of reasoning that I obey only motives of\nselfishness when I shed tears of grief because my friend has lost his\nonly son.\"\n\nHere we are living together on earth to-day, and here were our fathers\nand forefathers living, in the same general way with the same general\ninstincts and feelings, as far back as we have any record of; and here\npresumably will our children and their descendants continue to be\nliving, as far as our imagination can carry us. Whether the process of\nour creation involved a bit of protoplasm in the midst of chaos, or\nwhether we were evolved from a thought and a breath of an Almighty God,\nis of very slight consequence as a human consideration.\n\nIn view of the wonderful harmony and fitness of the countless processes\nand things which we see everywhere about us in nature, it is not strange\nthat mankind seems always to have taken it for granted that a supremely\nwise and a supremely resourceful intelligence of some sort is\nresponsible for it all. The beginning, the end, the scheme and purpose\nof so many miracles, extend into the beyond, the unknown, the\nincomprehensible. What the Supreme Being is like--how or why He came\ninto existence--where matter or life first came from--or even what the\nconnection is between the creatures of this world and the countless\nstars and planets which may be other worlds--all this is shrouded in the\nmystery of mysteries.\n\nIf we get to thinking very much about it, one of the effects is to make\nthe affairs of man and the like of man seem tiny and unimportant in\ncomparison to the whole--one kind of little creatures on one little\nglobe, when we know there are thousands upon thousands of bigger globes\nin the firmament and possibly millions and billions of larger and more\nexalted creatures on many of them.\n\nBut it is only man's intellect that gets tangled up and discouraged by\nthat kind of reasoning. Another side of man's nature comes to the fore\nand disposes of this tangle with more inspiring sentiments. These\nsentiments tell us that a marvellous scheme of life is at work in our\nworld, every detail of which from the lowest to the highest appears to\nhave received exactly the same sort of sublime consideration--and that\nof this entire scheme, the spirit of man has been constituted the leader\nand master. On this earth at least man is a kind of divine lieutenant,\nthe captain, the commander, the generalissimo of all living things.\nSomehow, somewhere, there must be a sublime purpose to it all, because\nit is dominated throughout by a sublime intelligence, an apparently\nall-wise Providence. Somehow, somewhere, the spirit of man has a never\nending responsibility and an awe-inspiring, exalted destiny.\n\nWhether this be true or not, and however, the scientific intellect may\nbe inclined to quibble with arguments and conclusions, there is\nsomething inside of each and every one of us to a greater or less\nextent, which makes us feel that this is so. This something within us,\nwhich responds to such a feeling, is a function quite apart from the\nintellect--the most highly developed intellects often have the least of\nit; it is equally removed from the loves and hates, sympathies and\nantipathies of our heart life; and equally far away from the perceptions\nand appetites of our senses. It is the side of man's nature which for\nthe want of a better name, we call the soul. And the feeling of the soul\nthat there is somewhere an all-wise Providence, sublime purpose in\neverything, an exalted destiny for man--irrespective of proof, or\nscience, or calculation or demonstrations of any sort--that feeling in\nits simplest essence is what we call faith.\n\n\"In God We Trust\"--that is the motto which appears on American coins.\nWithout great exaggeration, it might be called the motto of humanity,\neverywhere, at all times. It is a soul feeling; an expression of\nfundamental faith.\n\nNow as this feeling is not dependent on the reasoning faculty, there\nshould be nothing amazing in the fact that it has been found susceptible\nof being developed and led far afield in the direction of credulity. All\nsorts of fairy-tales have been invented by man's imagination, in\ndifferent countries, at different periods, and imposed upon the simple\nfaith of the masses in order that they might be guided and controlled in\na manner that the leading spirits considered best for them. Idols,\ndivine revelations, oracles, prayers, sacrifices, confessionals,\npriests, prophets, medicine men, sacred dances and prostrations,\nawe-inspiring rites and ceremonies of almost every conceivable kind have\nbeen resorted to, in order to attain results which were considered\nbeneficial.\n\nIn nearly every case, it is safe to say the effort was inspired by an\nintense soul feeling on the part of an individual, however much it may\nhave been seasoned with shrewdness and calculation and understanding of\nthe people for whose good it was intended.\n\nIt is generally admitted that the age in which we live is a scientific\nage. Scientific investigations, scientific explanations, scientific\ninventions, scientific methods and theories, are dominant factors in the\nprogress to which modern civilization has been devoting so much of its\nenergy. In our schools, and colleges and text-books, the growing mind is\nbeing taught to approach all subjects and questions from a reasonable,\npractical and scientific point-of-view.\n\nOne of the first principles of all science is to take as little as\npossible for granted, but to investigate and prove everything, without\nprejudice, in strict accordance with the facts. This is the typical\nattitude of to-day, encouraged and absorbed on every side and becoming\nmore wide-spread with each passing year.\n\nSuppose a young man or woman, trained in this way, in school and\ncollege, by books of science, magazine articles, newspapers and\ndiscussions of one sort or another connected with modern progress, is\nprompted one fine day to turn his attention to this question of religion\nand undertake an enquiry into that? Sooner or later, this is very apt to\nhappen to any one, because the churches and ceremonies are all about;\nand when an individual mind reaches a stage where it wants to think for\nitself, it can hardly escape from arriving at some conclusion concerning\nthem.\n\nA modern person so trained, is apt to perceive very quickly that many of\nthe statements and assumptions made in the name of any particular\nreligion are unscientific and inaccurate and not much more reasonable\nthan Aladdin and his wonderful lamp, or Jack and the Beanstalk. They\npre-suppose an amount of childlike credulity and ignorance on the part\nof the worshipper, which can only be explained to his mind by the\nprimitive state of the people for whom they were originally intended.\n\nIn view of this, the natural tendency for a practical scientific mind of\nthe present generation is to regard the church question as a rather\ncurious and perplexing survival which, for family and personal reasons,\nit might be just as well to leave alone.\n\nAs science cannot discover how the first protoplasm was created, and as\nthe preaching of the various religions is interwoven with fanciful and\nunsound assumptions, the most logical solution is to cease bothering\none's head about it.\n\nOne trouble with this is, that the soul is an important part of man's\nlife and it has need of faith of some sort. To a great extent,\ncivilization depends upon it. If all the people about us had no soul and\nno faith, it is hard to imagine what the world would be like.\n\nWe can imagine, in a way, by turning our attention to the criminal\nclasses. Consider for a moment the make-up of a typical crook--a thief,\na burglar, a kidnapper, a hold-up man--a so-called \"enemy of the law.\"\nWhat is the underlying difference between him and a worthy citizen? Is\nit simply that one breaks the law, while the other does not? That is\nonly an apparent, superficial difference, based on results. A worthy man\nmight break the law repeatedly, without becoming in the least a crook; a\ncrook might stay within the law, most carefully and cautiously, without\naltering in the slightest degree, the essence of his crookedness.\n\nThe real significant difference lies deeper down, in his nature and\nattitude--attitude toward his fellow men, toward himself, toward the\nmystery of life. A crook usually has the same sort of appetites and\ndesires as anybody else. He may have the keenest perceptions and\nexcellent taste in matters of beauty and other pleasure-giving\nrefinements. As far as the sensations of life go, and the development of\nthe senses, he may be far above the average, and many of them\nundoubtedly are.\n\nAs for brains, many crooks of the higher order are remarkably quick and\nresourceful, while not a few have had superior education and book\nlearning.\n\nIt is also undoubtedly true that they may have warm hearts and loving\nnatures, and be capable of an unusual amount of loyalty and devotion to\ntheir pals.\n\nIn addition to that, they are frequently very patient, self-controlled\nand fearless.\n\nBut there is just one quality, one side of their natures, that is\ndeficient--the soul, with its faith. They have no feeling of\nresponsibility within them toward an unknown but holy purpose, toward an\nall-wise Being, who created the world and entrusted to man a spirit\ncapable of leading it.\n\nWithout this feeling, there is no real meaning to the words right and\nwrong; and that is the essential mark of a crook. Outside of a few\nintimates whom he is attached to, the rest of mankind with its laws and\naspirations, represents nothing more than a hostile force to be preyed\nupon and gotten the best of. Provided he can avoid punishment, a crook\nfeels no objection to cheating, stealing, or cutting a throat.\n\nThis appears to be the natural principle of life among wild animals, the\nfish in the sea, the spider and the fly; and it would presumably be the\nsame among men, if man were without a soul and devoid of faith.\n\nThere is no feeling of right and wrong among animals, when left to\nthemselves. They merely try to get what they want, by any means at their\ndisposal. In doing this, their only concern is to save their own skins\nand to avoid a mix-up with another animal or animals stronger than\nthemselves.\n\nIn the case of crooks and criminals, these other animals which concern\nthem are usually the representatives of the law.\n\nCertain kinds of animals--dogs, horses, pets--may be tamed and trained\nby man into an imitation notion of right and wrong. But it is only a\nsuperficial imitation, essentially different in composition from the\ngenuine article.\n\nA dog may learn in time that if he chases the pet cat, his master will\ngive him a beating. After learning this lesson, he may still\noccasionally give himself the satisfaction of chasing the cat up a tree,\nbut after he has done so, he will show his training by looking guilty,\nhanging his tail and sneaking off into the bushes. He knows he has done\nwrong. In this case, however, it simply means that he is anticipating\nand seeking to mitigate an expected beating. The pain of a beating is\nbad; a lump of sugar is good, any animal can grasp that, and some\nanimals may be trained to connect the cause and effect.\n\nBut that is not at all the same kind of thing as the conception of right\nand wrong that grows up in man and finds its true explanation in a soul\nfeeling.\n\nThis vague, but fundamental, feeling of faith in a divine purpose of\nsome sort for the life of each individual is not dependent upon any\nparticular religion, or creed, or doctrine. It appears to have found\nexpression at all stages of civilization in all countries of which we\nhave any record.\n\nIt was found to exist among the savage American Indians and the Aztec\nMexicans, as it existed in the earliest mummy age of ancient Egypt, and\namong the earlier warriors of Europe, as depicted by Homer. Among the\nyellow races of China and Japan, the recognition of this same faith\nextends back to the farther-most records of time.\n\nWhether it evolved from a protoplasm, or was implanted in man by the\nCreator, it may be regarded as an essential part of the all-wise\nscheme--which is, which was, and which presumably always will be.\n\nBy some such process of observation and reasoning as we have been going\nthrough, it is possible to arrive at a relatively safe and satisfactory\nconclusion to the first soul question: \"Has my life any purpose in the\ngreat, everlasting scheme of things?\"\n\nThe answer is: \"Undoubtedly. A feeling to that effect is to be found\nuniversally among mankind. The intention of the Creator, which surpasses\nunderstanding, in this one respect, at least, appears to be\nunmistakable.\"\n\nAttached to this conclusion is the second part of the question, to which\nan answer may be found by a similar process of observation and\nreasoning:\n\n\"Granted that I am assured by an inner feeling that my life has some\npurpose--what is that purpose?\"\n\nIt is not difficult to discern a general and practically uniform purpose\nin normal human beings. First, of course, is the primal instinct of\nself-preservation, a feeling that life itself is precious and must be\nheld on to as long as possible. Along with this, goes another primal\ninstinct--to create new life and protect that--and thus continue your\nrace and kind on earth indefinitely.\n\nIt is easy enough to see that if these two instincts were lacking, or if\nany other considerations were allowed to impair their force, the scheme\nof the world would come to an end. Whatever the purpose of a human life\nmight be, that purpose would be futile, if there were no human lives to\naccomplish it. So that these two instincts are necessary conditions of\nany other plan or design. They are the first and foremost considerations\nin all life, in all civilizations. Not only are they instinctive\nimpulses of man's animal nature, which he shares with brute beings, but\nthey also appeal to his innermost soul with the strongest feelings of\nwhich he is capable.\n\nIt is right for him to protect himself; it is right for him to protect\nhis wife and children; it is right for him to protect his relatives and\nfriends and fellows from any and all enemies. In order to do this he\nwill kill other human beings, if necessary, in case of war, or attack;\nand his conscience will not reproach him; it will tell him he has done\nright.\n\nThis feeling has been implanted in all normal human beings--it has\nalways been and presumably always will be. It may be regarded as part of\nthe divine intention. It is also an unmistakable purpose for each\nindividual--to preserve his own life and strive for its continuation in\nhis off-spring.\n\nThat is the first and foremost thing for you to live for. Why? Because\nthe strongest feelings of your whole nature, in accord with your\nconscience, tell you so.\n\nIf we consider woman as distinct from man, we find her strongest\ninstinct and deepest inner feelings impel her to care for and protect\nher off-spring; but that instead of an impulse to go out and fight\nagainst the enemy, she feels in her conscience that it is right and\nnatural for her to rely upon the husband and father to do that. It is\nfor her to stick close to the babies and pray for his success.\n\nThat is the only difference--a fundamental difference in the innermost\nfeeling of the male and the female--which appears to have existed\nalways, and may therefore be regarded as a part of the divine intention.\n\nNow, after the continuation of life on earth is safeguarded in this way,\nis there any other deep and general feeling of man's inner nature which\nmight furnish an indication of a further purpose for his life?\n\nIs there not in each and every one of us a deep-rooted desire, which is\nwholly in accord with conscience, to make good in the role which has\nbeen assigned to us in the mystery of creation? Does not each individual\nfeel moved to accomplish something beyond the mere continuation of life?\nIs there not within us a vague aspiration to do well and be something\ngood and fine, according to our means and tastes? Do we not want to be a\nsuccess rather than a failure, both for our own sake and for the sake of\nthose we love, who also love us, and cannot help being affected by what\nwe do?\n\nIf by any chance you are deficient in this feeling yourself, or confused\nabout it, you have only to look about any where, at any time, and you\nwill find it in evidence among normal individuals from the days of early\nchildhood.\n\nA little girl likes to be pretty, to dance well, to sew neatly, to be\nhelpful to her mother, to be petted, loved, approved.\n\nA little boy wants to be a fast runner, a fine swimmer, a good\nfighter--he wants to be strong and brave and self-reliant and many other\nthings, besides. He admires these qualities in other boys; a feeling of\nhis inner nature, in accord with his conscience, tells him he would\nlike to be that kind of a boy, himself. He feels it is the kind that\nevery one ought to want to be.\n\nAnd if he is a normal, healthy boy, this feeling arises within him just\nas naturally and spontaneously as the feeling which comes to a sensitive\nsoul in the presence of a sunset, or musical harmonies and tells it they\nare beautiful. It is quite apart from any far-sighted calculations of\nthe intellect concerning the practical use which those qualities may, or\nmay not, have in after life.\n\nThe same thing is true of the little girl and what she admires and\naspires to.\n\nAs the youngsters grow up to be men and women, they are still\nsusceptible to the same sort of feeling, in spite of the fact that many\nother more practical and material considerations are liable to creep in\nand confuse it, alter it, distort it.\n\nSomewhere, in the inner nature of almost everybody, there persists a\nfeeling of admiration for the fine and noble qualities of mankind. Some\nof those qualities, experience may have demonstrated, are beyond our\npersonal strength and reach--others may have practical disadvantages,\nwhich our self-interest and our reason over-rule, but as long as the\nfeeling is there, it keeps whispering to us, however faintly, that we\nought to try to live up to the best that is in us and not be satisfied\nwith less.\n\nLet us take care to note that this differs completely from another sort\nof feeling which cold-blooded cynics are apt to confuse it with. This\nother feeling is inspired by greed and controlled by selfish\ncalculation, and tells certain individuals that by closing their eyes to\nwhat is beautiful and admirable in human nature, and by taking advantage\nof any and every opportunity, they may obtain a greater portion of\nworldly goods and material pleasures.\n\nThis latter feeling is not in touch with conscience and neither to\nourselves, nor to others, does it inspire ennobling sentiments. A proper\nname for it is ambition--a selfish quality, whose essence bears no\nrelation to the aspiration of boy and girl, man and woman, toward what\nis finest and best.\n\nThis feeling of aspiration, which exists in the soul and appears to be\ninnate in human beings everywhere, offers a clear and indisputable\nrevelation of a purpose for man's life, above and beyond the mere\ncontinuation of it. It is one very solid answer to the second part of\nthe great question: What is the purpose of my life? To strive toward\nbetterment and excellence, in accordance with your lights and\nconscience. Why? Because, just as a feeling within you tells you that a\nsunset is beautiful, so there is this other feeling within you, which\ntells you this is fine and right.\n\nThose are fundamental feelings, planted in all mankind, not accidental\nexceptions. They are surely a part of the all-wise design, an essential\npart of your purpose in being here.\n\nThe finest types of men, the leading spirits of humanity, in all ages\nand climes, from the earliest savages to the most advanced civilization,\nhave always had that kind of feeling and responded to it. It is a\nfundamental fact of the soul life, which leaves no room for doubt.\n\nIs there any other feeling of this sort which appears to be so\nfundamental and world-wide that it may be regarded as an innate and\nessential part of human nature, independent of climate, or race, or\nintellectual development?\n\nIs there not a sentiment deep down in all mothers and fathers, to want\ntheir children to be finer, better, more nearly perfect than they\nthemselves have been? Has not this sentiment something in it which is\nquite apart from self-interest, or reason, or the impulses of affection?\n\nSuppose a normal mother is on her death-bed, with but an hour to live?\nAs far as she is concerned, all considerations of self-interest in this\nworld are at an end. After one hour, nothing that happens can make any\ndifference to her, personally. Her children are in an adjoining room and\nher thoughts and feelings are full of them. That is only natural--almost\ninevitable.\n\nWhat is the essence of her feelings? Love, in the first place. They are\ninexpressibly dear to her and she feels glad and thankful that all is\nwell with them. What next? A prayerful hope that they will be happy and\nsuccessful and live to a ripe old age. For her sake? No, for theirs.\n\nDoes she wish them to be liars and cheats and ingrates, dissipated and\ncorrupt, if by so doing they can have most pleasure and satisfy\nthemselves? Oh no--not that. Why not? Because there is something within\nher which wants them to be fine and good and worthy of their birthright.\nShe wants them to cling fast to the best that is in them, not the worst;\nto do right and be right, whether it serves their pleasure or not.\n\nIf a mother would naturally feel this way on her death-bed, so might a\nfather, or a grandmother or a grand-father, in any country--in almost\nany state of civilization--irrespective of any particular creed or\ndoctrine, to which they might subscribe.\n\nThis is not to be taken as saying that all mothers or fathers would be\nconscious of this feeling--or would have this feeling in them to any\nappreciable extent--or that all individuals may be said to have any of\nthe fundamental soul feelings to which we have referred.\n\nThroughout all nature, and in human life as well, there are to be found\nindividual deficiencies and perversions. Since this is as true to-day,\nas it has been always, in all departments of creation, we can be content\nto regard it as part of the all-wise but mysterious scheme.\n\nTo the best of our knowledge and belief, in practically all communities\nof human beings of which there is any record, these few self-same\nfeelings of man's innermost nature have become plainly, unmistakably,\nevident. They appear to be inborn fundamentals of the human soul. As far\nas they go, they may be safely and confidently accepted as indications\nof man's purpose here on earth: the preservation of life, the\ncontinuation of life, an aspiration in one's own development toward what\nis admirable and right, and an equally great aspiration to inculcate and\ndevelop in one's children the essence of what is best in oneself.\n\nIn the face of any such conclusion, a question naturally arises, which a\ncynical and selfish mind is not slow to make the most of. \"If this is\nthe palpable intention and design of an all-wise Creator, how does it\nhappen that so many human beings fail to carry out the purpose? How\ndoes it happen that so many are relatively deficient, or totally\nunconscious of the feelings themselves? If the general aim and\naspiration is toward constant betterment and an ideal of perfection,\nwhy, after all these centuries of endeavor, haven't we arrived somewhere\nnear the goal? Why do we find among the individuals of to-day in our\ncountry less aspirations toward what is fine and right and honorable\nthan were felt a hundred years ago? Why, when these feelings reached so\nhigh a standard in the classic days of Greece, did they decline and\nshrivel and give way to barbarism? Why did the same thing happen in\nRome? If the divine intention is toward progress and betterment and an\nideal of right, why has the intention failed so miserably and repeatedly\nto be carried out? Why haven't I just as much reason to assume that the\ndivine intention, if there be any, is the gradual corruption, decay and\ndisintegration of the human being? Were the motives and behavior of the\naverage man ever more corrupt, immoral and baser than they are\nto-day--all over the world? If we consider the results, where is the\nevidence of a constant betterment in man's spiritual nature? My\nobservations and judgment tell me there are no grounds for any such\nassumption and there probably never was any such divine intention.\"\n\nThe answer to such objections is fairly simple:\n\n\"You are attempting to pass judgment, by means of the reasoning\nprocesses of the intellect, on questions which man's intellect is\nincapable of understanding. As we found to be the case when considering\nthe affections, the result of such an endeavor is a misconception and\ndistortion.\n\n\"Although you are well aware that neither reason nor science can offer\nthe faintest glimmer of an explanation as to how, or why, the first\nessence of life came into existence, or the first elemental matter, or\nas to what is the ultimate intention or end of a single thing in this\nworld, or any other, yet you have the presumption to criticize the means\nand methods being employed for the attainment of those ends by an\nall-wise Creator, who presumably did know, and does know, what they are.\n\n\"Underlying your questions and comments is a complete misunderstanding.\nIn considering man's purpose in life, I had no thought of determining\nGod's purpose in creating man, or in creating life, or in creating the\nworld in which the life of man is to be found. That surpasses my\nunderstanding. That there is an all-wise design and purpose of some\nsort, behind and above it all, I have no doubt. This conviction comes\nprincipally from a feeling of my innermost nature, which has been found\namong mankind, in all ages--faith. It is confirmed and strengthened by\nthe evidence of my perceptions and intellect--the beauty and wonder and\nfitness in all the processes of creation.\n\n\"But even in the simplest facts of nature all about us, there are\ncountless principles at work whose intention cannot be penetrated by\nhuman reason. Why were wolves permitted and urged by their instincts to\ndevour innocent lambs? Why were the germs of disease and corruption\ncreated with the same bewildering perfection of design and the same\nmysterious, vital force as the good and beautiful creatures which they\ninfest? Why were exquisite flowers and fruit-bearing trees allowed to be\novercome by foul fungus and poisonous weeds?\n\n\"If our reason is unable to discern the underlying intention in such\nsimple, every-day occurrences as these, by what right does it pretend to\npass judgment on the great complexities and developments of human\ncivilization?\"\n\nWhat good is accomplished by the rise and fall of an empire? Or by the\nrise and fall of a human individual? What all-wise intention is\nfulfilled in the deterioration and decay of any thing which has once\nseemed admirable and worthy? The human intellect cannot tell.\n\nAs long as the intellect cannot grasp the beginning of creation, or the\nend, the original cause of man's existence, or the final result--how can\nit presume to criticize and doubt, without getting out of its element\nand beyond its depth?\n\nGod's purpose for man, from the point-of-view of God, is an entirely\ndifferent thing from an individual's purpose in life, from man's\npoint-of-view. As this difference is something which appears to give\nrise to a certain amount of confusion in some people's minds, it is\nworth clearing up by a simple illustration.\n\nSuppose a commanding general, in the midst of a campaign, gives orders\nfor a brigade to occupy a certain ridge and defend it at all costs?\nSuppose these orders are carried out and, after a heroic defence lasting\nseveral days, the entire brigade is wiped out by the enemy?\n\nIn such a case, when an order comes, what is, and ought to be, the\npurpose of each individual soldier composing the brigade? To obey\norders, do his duty as well and bravely as he can, and hope for the\nbest--which may be victory, glory and promotion.\n\nWhat, now, was the purpose of the general, in issuing the orders? Was it\nto enable those individual soldiers to win victory and gain promotion?\nQuite the contrary. His purpose was to delay the enemy advance at that\npoint for forty-eight hours, for reasons of high strategy.\n\nWhat was the purpose of God in designing mankind in such a way that\nmillions of fine individuals should go forth to maim and exterminate\neach other, to the accompaniment of untold suffering and misery?\n\nBecause the private does not know the purpose of the general; and\nbecause neither the private, nor the general, knows the purpose of God,\nis that a reason to conclude, or imagine, that there is no purpose?\n\nIs that a reason to conclude, or imagine, that the private cannot have\nand know a purpose of his own--a fine and worthy purpose of which his\nconscience approves? Does not that same observation apply to the general\nand to all other individuals, high or low?\n\nBecause certain individuals are born blind or deaf, does that imply that\nmankind was not designed to see or hear? Because certain individuals,\nthrough the effects of disease or abuse, lose their sight, does that\ndisprove a purpose for the eye? Because certain communities, or certain\ncivilizations, decline and decay, through corruption, does that prove\nanything with regard to the intention and design of the Creator--except\nthat such happenings are apparently a part of the mysterious plan?\n\nIt may be that in that plan the soul life of a single individual has\nmore lasting significance than the rise and fall of an empire. Such a\nconception is apt to strike a matter-of-fact intellect as the height of\nabsurdity. But even in the material world, when it was first suggested\nthat the earth was round, that conception also struck the matter-of-fact\nintellect as the height of absurdity. So did the idea of Columbus--that\nhe might set sail from Spain, going West, and arrive back at Spain,\ncoming from the East. Nearly all the great discoveries and conceptions\nof genius have struck the matter-of-fact intellect as the height of\nabsurdity. They dealt with an unknown principle which was different from\naccepted notions.\n\nBut the meaning of a human soul in the eternal plan, or of a certain\nphase of civilization in the unknown plan, are also unknown principles\nand the opinions of the intellect concerning them are purely guess-work.\n\nIf, however, we feel inclined to use our imaginations, there is a line\nof thought which might seem to have a remote bearing on this part of the\npuzzle.\n\nIn the material world, and the intellectual world, and the esthetic\nworld of art and beauty, we may form a matter-of-fact opinion concerning\nthings of which we do know something. We can see the effects of certain\noccurrences and judge of their relative importance, from man's\npoint-of-view.\n\nWhich was more significant and important for the good of\ncivilization--that countless millions of men and women, for countless\ngenerations, in Mexico and in Persia, talked and thought and exchanged\nideas--or that one single individual, named William Shakespeare, had\nsome ideas which it occurred to him to put on paper?\n\nThe brain effort of a single individual more significant for future\nhumanity than the rise and fall of an empire! That kind of\nconception--dealing with something we know about--does not strike the\nmatter-of-fact intellect as the height of absurdity.\n\nWas a single painting, the Mona Lisa, of a single individual, Leonardo\nda Vinci, less important than the millions of paintings made during\ncountless generations throughout the entire empire of China?\n\nDo we measure the achievements of a Napoleon, an Alexander, a\nWashington, by the manner of their decline and death?\n\nIt seems simple enough to us that one short life may have more meaning\nfor the rest of humanity in this world, than millions of other lives. We\ncan see and understand and measure the effects of such occurrences as\nthese, with the intellect.\n\nBut in regard to man's inner feelings, the soul life, because the\nachievement may not be visible--because its record is not written on\npaper--because its true significance is entirely shrouded in the\nmysterious intention of creation, how can the intellect know that the\nconscientious effort of one short life on earth, however humble, may not\nhave a bigger meaning and a more lasting value in the divine scheme than\nthe accomplishments--material, intellectual, artistic--of millions?\n\nThe spiritual side appears undoubtedly to be the highest and finest part\nof man's nature--why then is it not possible that the spiritual struggle\nof each and every single soul, however inconspicuous in a worldly way,\nmay be the thing that counts most in the everlasting scheme?\n\nThis is a question, we repeat, which all the science of all the wise men\nof all the generations is completely incapable of deciding. No amount of\nreasoning can disprove it, any more than it can prove it. That is the\nspecial point I have been trying to make clear. Because the cold\nprocesses of the intellect are inclined to dismiss as absurd all kinds\nof beliefs and conceptions which they cannot verify, they need not be\nabandoned on that account.\n\n\n\n\nVI\n\nSCIENCE AND THE INTELLECT\n\n\nNo amount of reasoning can alter the fact that certain spontaneous and\nfundamental feelings of man's inner nature inspire him to conscientious\neffort and, as they presumably owe their origin to an all-wise Creator,\nthey may be safely relied on to indicate his part and responsibility in\nthe mysterious scheme.\n\nIt seems to me that nothing in the whole problem of life is more\nimportant than a thorough realization of this undoubted truth--that the\nbig fundamental feelings of man's better nature are absolutely\nindependent and apart from the working of his intellect, or any\ncalculation of self-interest, conscious or implied, just as they are\nindependent of his material appetites and instincts. A clear\nunderstanding of this truth will answer many of the questions which are\nso apt to confuse the reason and trouble the peace of mind of the\naverage much instructed person.\n\nIf a scientific doubter asks us how we can be sure of this, we can\nanswer without hesitation that the evidence of our own inner feelings is\nunmistakable proof of it. The only proof of a feeling is the feeling\nitself. We have it--we are conscious of it--it is, as far as we are\nconcerned, and it is futile for any outsider to deny it.\n\nIf any one is so constituted that he cannot get the force of this, we\nmay make the understanding of it easier by turning his attention to the\nfeelings of man's esthetic nature, which operate in a somewhat similar\nway. We have already had occasion to refer to them, but we may be\npermitted to do so again, with added emphasis. They are an illustration\nand a confirmation of the vitally important principle which we have just\nbeen stating.\n\nIf a setting sun, or a harmony, or musical notes, appeal to my sense of\nbeauty and give rise to a vague but delicious emotion of my inner\nnature, all the arguments of all the intellects on earth are powerless\nto alter the essence and meaning of that feeling, so far as my nature is\nconcerned. To me that feeling of beauty is a fact, and it would remain\njust as much a fact, even if no other person in the world shared it with\nme; and every other person in the world undertook to deny its existence.\nThe only proof I have of it, the only proof I need for it, is that I\nfeel it.\n\nNow when the intellect takes upon itself to meddle with such things, a\nlearned professor may explain that a certain musical note is composed of\nvibrations--so many thousand per second--which are communicated to\nparticles of matter in suspension in the air and carried by them to the\ntympanum of the ear, which acts thus-and-so upon the various components\nof the hearing apparatus, and finally arrives through a system of\nganglia to a certain nerve centre, located somewhere in a brain cell, or\nthe spinal column. He may use a great many other big words and display\nvarious kinds of scientific devices for measuring sound waves and\ncalculating vibrations, but when he has finished, all his science will\nnot enable him to compose a touching melody, or feel the beauty and\ninspiration of it. A little child, or a negro mammy, with a soul for\nmusic, will feel and give out something, whose very essence has nothing\nto do with the intellect and which the most formidable intellect is\npowerless to grasp.\n\nThe same thing is true of painting and poetry and sculpture. The\nfeelings which inspire them and the feelings which they arouse in\nreceptive souls are totally independent of the intellect.\n\nThe reason may argue that as one leg of the Venus de Milo is found by\nmeasurement to be considerably shorter than the other, it is absurd to\ncall that a beautiful figure of a woman--or that it should excite as\nmuch admiration as a scientifically constructed statue in which all the\nproportions would be in accord with carefully tabulated statistics.\n\nAs a photograph of a young and healthy girl is more accurate and more\npleasing in subject than a painting of an old woman, what reason is\nthere for it to arouse less esthetic feeling than an immortal portrait\nby Rembrandt?\n\nIf a description of a small water course, drawn up by a surveyor and a\nlawyer, is exact and comprehensive, why should it not appeal to the\nimagination and sense of beauty more satisfactorily than a poem by\nTennyson, entitled \"The Brook?\"\n\nThe obvious answer is that in all such questions the intellect is out of\nits element, trying to lay hands on something which has no tangible\nsubstance.\n\nIf this point-of-view is not enough to give your intellect food for\nthought and suggest its very decided limitations in the life of man, you\nmay turn its light upon the simplest and most material sensations and\nfeelings which belong to the animal nature and are common to all\nmankind.\n\nWhat reason is there for my brother to dote on fried onions, while I\ncannot endure them? Why does my uncle like pig's feet and eels and\nsnails, while my wife is made almost ill at the sight of them? Your\nintellect may tell you that you ought to like the taste of castor oil,\nbecause it is good for you; but all the intellect in the world cannot\nmake you like the taste of castor oil.\n\nThe taste, the savor, the feel of things--whether it be in the material\nworld, or the esthetic world, or the spiritual world--is a part of life\nin which the intellect is forever condemned to remain an outsider. It\nmay be very much interested in what is going on, it may reason with the\ncauses and effects and characteristics of what it sees; it may make\nsuggestions to the will-power and argue against the impulses which are\nprompted by the feelings; but it cannot prevent the feelings, or the\nimpulses, from being there and having their say.\n\nThe life and say of the feelings mean much to the welfare of each\nindividual. Let us suppose that the circumstances of my life were such\nthat I could truthfully express myself as follows:\n\n\"I _feel_ well and strong; I _feel_ that I love my wife devotedly and my\nwife returns that love; I _feel_ immense affection for my children; I\n_feel_ I would make any and every sacrifice to protect them and my wife\nfrom harm; I _feel_ very hopeful about the future, both for my family\nand myself; I _feel_ I have done my best, in accordance with my ability;\nI have a feeling of loyalty to my friends and a feeling of honor in my\ndealings with my fellow men; I _feel_ content with my lot, in\nparticular, and the way of the world, in general; and whether my life\nwas evolved from a monkey and a protoplasm, or came into being as a\ndivine and perfect conception, I _feel_ an abiding faith in an all-wise\nbut mysterious purpose for everything.\"\n\nThere are no material considerations, or calculations of self-interest,\nor reasoning processes, in this kind of summary. It is made up\nexclusively of fundamental and spontaneous feelings which are in\nexistence, to a greater or less extent, among all sorts and manners of\nindividuals, in any known stage of civilization. A peasant living in a\nhut, in a vineyard in Sicily, is just as capable of having them, as a\nmillionaire living in a city palace, or a scientist presiding over an\nacademy of learning. A native Patagonian, or a Swede, or a Chinaman, may\nbe just as susceptible to them as a French artist, or an American steel\nking. As they come from the inner nature, and as all men have an inner\nnature, it is possible for them to be experienced by all men.\n\nThere are, of course, countless other beautiful and inspired feelings\nthat may come to life in the inner nature of an individual, but the few\nsimple ones which we have suggested are sufficient for an illustration.\n\nNow let us imagine, for a moment, another illustration. Let us imagine\nthat a modern intellect, scientifically trained and enlightened,\nundertook to investigate, analyze, dissect, in a methodical and accurate\nway, the facts which gave rise to my feelings, or are implied by them,\nin an effort to determine the reason and reasonableness of such\ninteresting phenomena.\n\nI _feel_ well and strong. \"But,\" says he, \"that does not necessarily\nprove that you are well or strong. It may be merely an assumption\nfounded on ignorance of scientific facts.\" The proper way to determine\nhow well and strong I am is to have my health and strength tested and\nrated in an expert way. According to the report of such an expert, my\nstate of health is only 63 per cent normal and my strength is less than\n50 per cent of standard for my weight and age.\n\nStrictly speaking, I am neither well _nor_ strong, and my feeling in\nthat respect may be dismissed as unwarranted by the facts and\nconsequently unreasonable.\n\n\"I _feel_ that I love my wife devotedly and that my wife returns that\nlove.\"\n\n\"But,\" says the intellect, \"those are only words. As a matter of fact,\nhow severe and accurate a test have either of those devotions been\nsubmitted to? Have you ever been thrown into contact, alone and\nundisturbed, with a woman who is more beautiful and more appealing than\nyour wife--who yearns for you and invites you with abandoned intensity?\nHas your wife's devotion been subjected to a corresponding test? Until\nthat has been done, it is only reasonable to assume that there may be a\ngood deal of exaggeration and self-delusion in the conclusions which you\nhave arrived at. As there are certain prejudices and difficulties in the\nway of having these tests made, and as neither you nor your wife appear\nwilling for the other to try them, any satisfactory estimate of your\nreciprocal devotions must remain in abeyance. Our statistics show,\nhowever, that in 87 per cent. of the cases where a mutual and\nunalterable devotion is supposed to exist, the determining factor on one\nside or the other, is the accidental absence of a sufficiently appealing\nopportunity. The evidence of the divorce courts offers a valuable source\nof information on this phase of the subject. Purely as a matter of\naverages, the conjecture may be hazarded that your assumption in this\nregard, as in the other, may be founded on a misconception.\"\n\nIn the same way, the intellect may introduce reasons and deductions in\ncriticism of my hopes for my children, and the fallacies which may have\ncrept into my theories of loyalty and honor and aspiration.\n\nFinally, he might say: \"Permit me to observe that you made a curious and\nsomewhat amazing statement, just now, in reference to faith and an\nall-wise purpose. Is it possible that you are still under the influence\nof an out-grown mediaeval superstition? The only reasonable assumption\nwith regard to man's place in the universe has been quite clearly and\nscientifically established by the modern theory of evolution. It appears\nfrom that, that you and I are descended from an ape, which in turn is a\nsecond-cousin-once-removed, so to speak, of the bat, the spider, and the\nshark. We are all animals together, slowly passing through different\nphases of evolution, and man owes his existence entirely to the\naccidental results of natural selection and survival of the fittest.\nMan's tribe happens to be more numerous than that of the elephant, or\nthe whale, which are larger animals; but less numerous than that of the\nant, which is almost his equal in intelligence and decidedly more\nindustrious, though it is so much smaller than man. Millions of ants\ncome into existence and go out of existence, every day, without making\nany appreciable difference in the gradual processes of evolution. The\nsame thing may be said of man--or bats and whales. Surely it is high\ntime that a well-educated person of the twentieth century should\nconsider such things from a reasonable, scientific point-of-view.\"\n\nWhen he has finished with this, if I am still in a receptive mood, he\nmay condescend to explain to me that self-interest and enlightened\nreason supply the true and underlying motives for all conduct; and that\nthis is the only conception of life which is susceptible of intelligent\nexplanation.\n\nAs a matter of fact, although this illustration is entirely fanciful, I\nwas given a book to read, the other day, a modern book on morals, in\nwhich this was the gist of the argument throughout--enlightened\nself-interest, or selfishness, as the only sound and sufficient motive\nfor everything we do. The friend who gave it to me had accepted it as\nscientific and authoritative and was thoroughly in accord with its\nconclusions. I may add that this particular \"friend,\" as far as I have\nbeen able to observe, is the quintessence of selfishness.\n\nMy purpose, in imagining these illustrations, was to render obvious and\npalpable the limitations of the intellect, when it attempts to translate\nfeelings into terms of reason, or when it attempts to substitute\nscientific calculations for spontaneous emotions. The essence of one is\nfeeling; the essence of the other is logic; and the idea of replacing\nthe former by the latter is about as incongruous as an attempt to paint\nthe perfume of a violet with an adding machine.\n\nIn the heart and soul and even in the esthetic nature of every\nindividual is that mysterious element, which goes back to the beginning\nof creation. In many of the finest and most important acts of man, it\nmay supply either the determining cause, or the principal effect. It\ncannot be explained in terms of material self-interest, or enlightened\nreason, because its essence is neither material nor reasonable. It has\nin it a touch of the ideal and divine, which was implanted in man, or\nhas evolved in man, in accordance with the all-wise intention.\n\nWhen we have succeeded in arriving at a clear realization of this\nfundamental truth, and imagine we have put man's intellect back in the\nplace where it properly belongs, we must pause a moment to make equally\nclear that we must not under-estimate the wonder and importance of that\nsame intellect, in the life of every individual and the life of mankind\nin general.\n\nIn this age of science, the attention and interest of the universe have\nbeen largely focussed on the marvellous achievements of the human\nintellect. Discoveries, inventions, advanced methods and great strides\nof progress in countless directions are the boast and pride of modern\ntimes. There is no disputing this, nor is there any doubt but that a\ngreat wave of scientific accomplishment, which was somewhat slow in\ndeveloping, has, within the last two generations, suddenly assumed the\nmost stupendous and bewildering proportions. The railroad and the\nautomobile; the telephone and electric light; the airplane, phonograph,\nmoving picture; anti-septic surgery and the germ theory of disease; the\ndreadnought, the submarine and wireless telegraphy;--these are but a few\nstriking examples of the hundreds and thousands of achievements which\nthe intellect has been able to accomplish in a comparatively short space\nof time.\n\nNo wonder that we hear and read on all sides such constant and confident\nreference to the \"advancement of science,\" the \"progress of humanity,\"\nand the bewildering resourcefulness of man's brain.\n\nAll those achievements are objective and impersonal; they concern the\ncomforts and welfare, of each and every one of us, to a greater or less\nextent, but in a purely material and general way.\n\nWhen we turn to the personal life of the individual and consider his\nacts and motives, subjectively, we find that the role played by the\nintellect is almost equally important.\n\nAs we have seen in our previous discussions, the intellect has a say in\nnearly everything we do or think of doing. It enquires into the cause,\nand considers the effect, and passes judgment, for or against, in\naccordance with the dictates of its reason. If a certain instinct within\nus, which may be purely animal, has a need for food or water, the\nintellect recognizes and approves the need; but if the food and water\nset before us is poisonous or unfit, it is the intellect which\ndetermines that and overrules the instinct. If another instinct, or\nimpulse, prompts us to set fire to a house, or jump out of a window, the\nintellect decides that such an act would be unreasonable and forbids us\nto do so.\n\nIt frequently happens that two or more of our instincts, inclinations,\ndesires, are opposed to each other. I want to eat my apple now; I want\nto keep it to eat at the ball-game; and I want to trade it for Tim's\nlignum-vitae top. In such a case, it is the intellect which considers the\nadvantages and disadvantages of each and announces its decision. If it\nis a healthy intellect, in good control, it will enforce its decision,\ntoo; but even if it isn't, and an unruly impulse proves too strong to be\ndenied, that won't prevent the intellect from pointing out the mistake\nthat is being made and keeping it in memory for future reference.\n\nIt is not necessary to go over all this ground again. We have already\nexamined it with sufficient care in connection with the first answer\nwhich we gave to the up-to-date youth who wanted to know why he\nshouldn't follow his every inclination. The various examples which we\ncited to illustrate the significance of reason and experience are enough\nto establish the point we are now making.\n\nAs far as the material things of this world are concerned, and the\nmaterial needs of the individual, the intellect is generally and\nproperly acknowledged as the sovereign master. The rule of reason in\nprivate life; and the rule of science in civilization have become more\nand more the accepted standards of the world in which we live.\n\nIf an instinct or a desire is unreasonable, it should not be allowed to\nprevail; if a tradition or a convention of the past is unscientific, it\nshould be discarded and ridiculed as something out-of-date. That is the\nconclusion which advanced intellects have reached through scientific\nmethods of enlightenment; it is the message they have been\ncommunicating, the example which they have been setting, until the\nwide-spread results are becoming increasingly apparent among all\nclasses and in nearly all places, where modern science and civilization\nhave penetrated.\n\nIt ought not to be very difficult for any one to recognize and\nunderstand why the methods of science and the rule of reason occupy such\na dominant place in public estimation as they undoubtedly do to-day. The\nonly natural question is why they have not always, in by-gone\ngenerations, occupied just as high a place. The answer to this question\nis very simple, though some people's attention may not have been called\nto it. The scientific method of investigation, as we know it to-day, is\na comparatively recent product of the human intellect. There was no\nscience of any such kind when Homer wrote the Iliad, or when the\nChristian religion was founded, or when Leonardo da Vinci painted the\nMona Lisa and Shakespeare wrote his masterpieces. Even at the time our\ngreat American republic was put into operation, modern science was still\nin its swaddling clothes. It is only in the last two generations that it\nmay be said to have reached its true form and begun turning out in rapid\nsuccession the multitude of discoveries and inventions which have had\nsuch an immense effect in the daily life of civilization.\n\nIt also takes a certain amount of time for great changes to permeate,\nand become absorbed by masses of people, so that it should not seem\nstrange if many of the indirect results have only begun to be noticeable\nwithin the past few years.\n\nAnd now if we look about and pause to reflect on these triumphs of\nmodern science, as they affect the life and ideas and feelings of the\naverage individual, a very curious and somewhat startling question is\nliable to suggest itself.\n\nIs it possible that right here may be the main and underlying cause of\nthe so-called \"demoralization\" of the present generation? Is it possible\nthat the \"impossible notions\" and the equally \"impossible conduct\" of\nthe up-to-date young people which grandmother finds so shocking are\ntraceable to this source? Is it possible that faith, honor, loyalty and\nother ideals and aspirations of man's better nature, are being neglected\nand corrupted by the methods of modern science and the rule of reason?\n\nThe very idea of such a possibility, when it first dawned upon me,\nseemed like such a palpable absurdity that I put it aside, yet as I\nfollowed the other trains of thought which have been under discussion,\nthis idea kept recurring with greater and greater persistency. If it\nhappened to be true, the lesson to be derived from it might prove so\nimportant and helpful to struggling humanity, that it appears to me,\nnow, entitled to careful consideration.\n\nLet us begin with a general commentary and ask ourselves--How comes it,\nwhile scientific methods have achieved such amazing results in the\nmaterial world, they have not succeeded equally well in improving the\ninner nature of man? How comes it that science, with all its\ninvestigations and accurately reasoned conclusions, cannot show the\nindividuals of the present day how to make better paintings than Raphael\nor Titian? Or better statues than Michael Angelo? Or better music than\nChopin or Wagner? Or better literature than Moliere or Shakespeare?\n\nIt can show him how to make a hundred times better ship, or factory, or\nsurgical operation; but when it comes to this other kind of thing, it\nappears to have made no improvement at all. Those artists we have named\nand hundreds of others in past centuries, who made immortal\nmasterpieces, had no intellects enlightened by modern science, nor any\nof the benefits of modern education and progress. If we may judge at all\nby results (which is the modern, enlightened way), the only effect of\nscience in teaching people how to get an inspiration and find a\nbeautiful expression for it, has been a detriment rather than a help.\n\nIf you take a boy to-day, who has a natural bent for poetry, or\npainting, how much will you help him by filling his mind with scientific\nmethods and theories, rules and exceptions, deductions and compilations,\nof the various elements which should logically determine the value of\nthe finished product? By giving his intellect a thorough course in\nscientific training, which may occupy his time and absorb his energy for\nmany years, is it not possible that you will turn out in the end a\nplodding hack, instead of the inspired artist who might have been?\n\nDid anybody ever feel the poetic beauty of a rose with greater intensity\nfor having examined its petals through a microscope, and learned to\nclassify it scientifically, both as to species and variety?\n\nDid anybody ever learn by scientific rules of grammar and classified\ntables of words, to speak a foreign language with the ease and charm of\na child, who picks it up from a stupid governess in one-tenth the time?\nThe childlike, natural way to learn a language is to absorb it into the\nsystem, almost without effort, until it becomes a part of second\nnature--in much the same way that we absorb tunes. Without the slightest\nconscious effort, we are absorbing and retaining countless bars of\nmusic, all through our lives--yet can anybody imagine an enlightened\nintellect, undertaking to analyze and classify with scientific method\nthe use of sharps and flats in different kinds of bars, and attempting\nto learn them in that form?\n\nHomer's Iliad and Virgil's AEneid are generally regarded as great\nmasterpieces of literature. They are full of poetic feeling,\nimagination, charm and inspiring sentiments. They are still being read\nby thousands of boys and girls, every year, but they are being read to\nthe accompaniment of grammars, lexicons, and the commentary of learned\nprofessors, upon roots, derivatives and obsolete usages. A vast amount\nof time and energy is devoted to this undertaking, which is usually\njustified on the ground that it affords excellent training for the\nintellect. But how about the feelings of admiration and enthusiasm which\nworks of such great beauty were intended to inspire? Are they exercised\nto the same extent? Or is the tendency rather to trammel and divert them\nby so much laborious and irrelevant interference?\n\nWhen we turn to the more personal feelings of the individual, in his\nintimate relations with other beings, is not the situation much the\nsame? Has scientific thought discovered, or devised, any means of\nincreasing the warmth and tenderness of the human heart? Has the rule\nof reason made husbands and wives any more devoted to each other, or to\ntheir friends? It has succeeded in providing a great many people with a\ntelephone and an automobile, but has it succeeded equally well in\nproviding them with generous feelings of self-denial and consideration\nfor others? Or has its tendency, on the contrary, been rather to\ninterfere with the spontaneous development of such feelings, by\nattempting to replace them by an analysis of human motives in which\ncalculations of self-interest are made the prime factor?\n\nBut it is only when we come to the spiritual feelings that the really\nradical effects of science upon man's nature are encountered. And the\nmethod of these changes is so eminently \"reasonable,\" as to be almost\nself-explanatory.\n\nFirst is the question of religion, which in all countries and at all\ntimes has been such an important influence in the conduct of mankind.\nFor the time being, let us be content to confine our attention to our\nown country and our own Christian religion, and ask ourselves frankly\nwhat conclusions the modern methods of scientific investigation and the\nmodern rule of reason might be expected to arrive at in regard to that?\nWhat about all the miracles so devoutly recorded in the Bible? Through\ninvestigation and reason, science to-day considers itself in a position\nto pronounce them totally unscientific; and the rule of reason concludes\nthat they were presumably founded on the imagination, credulity and\nignorance which prevailed in an unenlightened period. What about the\nangels with the flaming swords, and the voices from on high, the golden\nthrones of heaven, the raging fires of hell, and the childlike account\nof the world's creation? With the same complacent assurance, modern\nscience and reason are pleased to brush them aside as concoctions of\nignorance and credulity. And so with countless other ideas set down in\nthis same holy book--the motives of jealousy and vanity attributed to\nthe all-wise Ruler--His insistence upon formalities in the manner of\nworship and baptism and christening--His threats concerning other\nalleged gods and unbelievers, who dare to dispute His sovereignty. All\nsuch ideas, when subjected to the acid test of scientifically\nenlightened reason, are shown in the colors of absurdity and ridicule.\n\nThe general conclusion arrived at by this kind of investigation is\nconsidered by scientific minds entirely logical and inevitable. As this\nso-called holy book is found to contain so many errors, inaccuracies,\nfalse statements and absurdities, the notion, or claim, of its being a\n\"revelation,\" communicated, or inspired, from a supernatural source, is\nunreasonable and untenable. An all-wise Creator could not be ignorant,\nor inaccurate. This particular book, like many other similar and rival\nones to be found in other parts of the world, may be scientifically\nassumed to be no more than a typical and very creditable product of the\nunenlightened civilization which gave it birth.\n\nThis tendency and effect of modern science is so direct and obvious that\nhe who runs may read. How far it has already spread and acted upon the\ngreat numbers of people who compose our population is not possible to\ndetermine. Nor is it of any great importance. As we observed before, it\ntakes considerable time for great changes of this sort to permeate to\nand become absorbed by the masses. But the evidence is only too plain,\non all sides, that this operation is now in full swing and gaining\nground rapidly. Among the up-to-date people of the new generation, the\nreligious beliefs of a very large proportion have become so confused and\nunsettled by it, that they are no longer quite sure in their own hearts\nwhether they have any at all. If you have any doubts about this matter,\nor have overlooked it, a very little enquiry among the people you meet\nevery day, of all classes and kinds, will suffice to bring it home to\nyou.\n\nOf course, there are still in every community a considerable number of\npeople who cling bravely to the traditions of the past, who deplore and\ncombat with indignation the up-to-date and demoralizing tendencies; who\nstill believe in their religion as firmly as ever, who still regard the\nBible as a divine revelation; and who still display the same fervid\nattachment to the various forms and ceremonies of their particular\nchurch.\n\nThere are also probably a few who, for private reasons, although they\nhave really ceased to believe, are still to be found sitting in church\npews.\n\nBut when we consider that modern scientific methods are of comparatively\nrecent origin, the wonder should be, not that so many people have\nresisted their tendencies in the matter of religion and still cling to\ntheir beliefs, but that such great numbers have been affected by them in\nso short a time.\n\nIt seems only too plain and palpable that this is the inevitable\ntendency of modern science, when brought to bear upon traditional\ndoctrines. It eats them away, bit by bit, and step by step, until there\nis nothing left but a crumbling residue.\n\nBut this is only one side of it--the negative side--which applies to\nwhat science has been taking down. There is also a positive side, which\napplies to what science has undertaken to set up in its place.\n\nAs we have had occasion to note, the fundamental feelings of faith and\naspiration are not dependent upon any particular form of religion. Faith\nhas been found to subsist and flourish under various creeds and all\nmanners of worship, in all stages of civilization. All that it wants is\nsomething to shelter and sustain and encourage it, in its struggles\nagainst the baser instincts. Any religion which does this, by appealing\nto the imagination and inspiring whole-souled belief, might be\nconsidered satisfactory in any given community.\n\nThe next question, therefore, which we are entitled to ask ourselves is\nthis:\n\nAfter science has succeeded in eating into and breaking down the\nparticular temple in which our fundamental faith had found a refuge,\nwhat fitting substitute has it been able to discover or devise, in order\nto meet this universal requirement?\n\nThe nearest approach to a scientific answer appears to be the theory of\nevolution, which informs man that, instead of being a special and\nmajestic creation of an all-wise Almighty, as he had so foolishly and\nignorantly imagined, he can consider himself a remote and more or less\naccidental, development of a protoplasm; and more immediately, the\nlineal descendant of the ape, to whom he still bears a close\nresemblance, in a scientific way.\n\nAs there is nothing about an ape, or a protoplasm to be accepted as a\nhaven of refuge, science points to another conclusion. (And in quoting\nscience, here or elsewhere, let it be borne in mind that I make no claim\nof speaking as a scientific expert, but am merely attempting to give the\ngeneral gist and point-of-view as it affects the average intelligence.\nIn such a general way, this, then, is what science says:)\n\n\"If you must worship something, instead of taking a figment of the\nimagination, why not pick out something real and established, about\nwhose insistence there can be no doubt--the most logical and admirable\nthing on earth--your own self and your scientifically enlightened\nintellect? If you need a creed of some sort, to take the place of the\nantiquated one which science has broken down, why not accept a pleasing\nand simple creed which is entirely logical? Let your conduct be governed\nat all times by your own self-interest and the rule of reason. For\neverything that happens in this world, there must be a cause; and for\nevery act of a living thing, there must be a motive, either conscious or\nunconscious. These are universal facts which have been adequately\nestablished by scientific research. In the case of an individual man,\nthe only logical and sufficient motive which can be arrived at in a\nscientific way, to explain his conduct, under any and all circumstances,\nis the principle of self-interest, which he shares, with all other\nanimals. This may be conscious or unconscious, more or less enlightened,\nor more or less deluded by ignorance and instinct; but that in no way\naffects the application of the principle.\"\n\nThis is the only practical substitute which science has to offer for the\nreligious structures which it has been slowly, but surely, destroying.\nBut as this also is no haven of refuge for the vague feelings of faith\nand aspiration, where are they to go? In the process of demolition, they\nappear to have been left groping about, more dead than alive, under the\nruins.\n\nWith an upheaval of this kind, spreading in the souls of great numbers\nof people, and their fundamental faith groping in confusion, is there\nanything strange in the fact that we hear and see constant references to\n\"the spirit of unrest,\" which has become so prevalent among all classes\nat the present time?\n\nIn the relations of capital and labor, in the political world and the\nbusiness world; in the divorce courts and domestic life, the deportment\nof women and the bringing up of children; in various other forms and\ndirections, both public and private, no less than in church\ncircles--there has been rapidly accumulating evidence of a mysterious\ninfluence of some sort, with a tendency to confuse and unsettle the\nstandards and conduct of mankind.\n\nThis state of affairs is not confined to our own country. It appears to\nbe equally evident in England, if we may believe the testimony of those\nwho pretend to know. In confirmation of this, it may be worth while to\ngive a few quotations from a more or less authoritative and much\ndiscussed English book which was published recently. In the concluding\nchapter of his work, the author refers more particularly to the\naristocracy of England, a privileged class of men who in the past have\ngenerally been considered a bulwark of traditional and lofty standards.\n\nAt the present time, the author says:\n\n    We are a nation without standards, kept in health rather by\n    memories which are fading than by examples which are\n    compelling.... We still march to the dying music of great\n    traditions, but there is no captain of civilization at the\n    head of our ranks. We have indeed almost ceased to be an army\n    marching with confidence towards the enemy, and have become a\n    mob breaking impatiently loose from the discipline and ideals\n    of our past.\n\n    ... Aristocracy has lost its respect for learning, it has\n    grown careless of manners, it has abandoned faith in its duty,\n    it is conscious of no solemn obligations, but it still\n    remains for the multitude a true aristocracy, and looking up\n    at that aristocracy, for its standards, the multitude has\n    become materialistic, throwing Puritanism to the dogs, and\n    pushing as heartily forward to the trough as any full-fed\n    glutton in the middle or the upper ranks of life.\n\n    ... There is no example of modesty, restraint, thrift, duty,\n    or culture. Everything is sensual and ostentatious, and\n    shamefacedly sensual and ostentatious.\n\n    ... It is a grievous thing to corrupt the minds of the simple.\n    The poor have always believed in heartiness and cheerfulness.\n    All their proverbs spring out of a keen sense of virtue. All\n    their games are of a manly character. To materialize this\n    glorious people, to commercialize and mamonize it, to make it\n    think of economics, instead of life, to make it bitter,\n    discontented and tyrannous, this is to strike at the very\n    heart of England.\n\nThe author of this book has a very clear idea, very forcibly expressed,\nthat the example of the upper classes, the leading citizens in the\ncommunity, exerts a great influence on the others. That is a universal\nprinciple which applies, in greater or less degree, to all other\ncountries, including America. It furnishes a simple explanation of how\ncomparatively stupid people, who do very little thinking of any kind,\nmay be found putting into effect motives and points-of-view which owe\ntheir origin to the enlightened reason of a few superior intellects.\n\nAlso it may be observed that while the author appears to recognize and\naffirm with conviction a general demoralization of standards among the\naristocracy, he does not attempt to suggest any visible cause for it. It\nmay be gathered, in a way, that he takes for granted that, somehow, it\nis a consequence of the World War. This notion, as we have seen, is so\napt to be fallen back on as a convenient excuse for anything and\neverything that is now taking place.\n\nBut to the best of my knowledge and belief, confirmed by all manner of\ntestimony and information, the tendencies in England which the author\nrefers to, no less than the similar tendencies in America, were plainly\nin evidence and rapidly gathering momentum before the beginning of war.\n\nFor tendencies which appear to be world-wide, it is fair to assume that\nthere must be some cause, or causes, which are world-wide also. The\nspread of modern science complies with that. Our English author refers\nto the declining influence and lack of vitality of the English church,\nwithout hazarding an opinion as to the cause. The idea which we have\ngotten hold of affords a clue to that part of it, at least.\n\nIf it is also a clue to all the rest, as I suggest it may be, then, by\nfollowing its lead in different directions, we ought to unearth lucid\nexplanations for the various phenomena which are disturbing and\nperplexing so many people.\n\nLet us go on a little further and see just what we do find.\n\nLet us imagine, for a moment, that I am a workman, a mechanic, of the\naverage intelligence to be found among the great run of so-called common\npeople. I have heard enough about modern science to be lost in wonder of\nit and I received a good modern education at the high school. I gave up\ngoing to church because it didn't appeal to me--a lot of the Bible\npreaching seemed out-of-date, unreasonable and unpractical. I've heard a\nlittle about this theory of evolution--man descended from an ape--and as\nmodern science is said to have proved it, I guess it must be so. The\nmain thing that concerns me is that I'm here, on the job, with a living\nto make. There are a lot of other men around me, about the same as I am.\nWe're reasonable and practical and believe in getting all we can,\nhonestly. We think we're about as good as anybody else and we believe in\nthe rule of the majority.\n\nWhen I look about at the people born luckier than I am, with more of the\nworld's goods, I can't see that they're any different from the rest of\nus. They're trying to get all they can, too, only they've managed to get\na blame sight more than the rest of us. Take my boss, for instance. Is\nthere any reason for him to be living in a big house with eight\nservants, and riding around in a limousine car, when all I can afford is\na flivver? Does he work any harder than I do? Is he any better man? or\nany smarter? I haven't seen any proof of it. But just because he\nhappened to have a rich father before him, he's allowed to get the\nlion's share of all we make. Is that reasonable? We all want the good\nthings of life, as much as he does, and if we're in the majority, why\nshouldn't we have our share?\n\nHe didn't make the capital that's in this business, and he didn't have\nanything to do with making his rich father; and the money his father\nmade, when you come down to it, was squeezed from men like us. If the\nworld is supposed to be run by reason, and reason says the majority\nought to rule, why shouldn't each one of us have an equal share with\nhim?\n\nI'm thinking of myself, of course, the same as everybody else--first,\nlast and all the time--and in that way I'd be a lot better off, but that\ndoesn't prevent what I want from being reasonable.\n\nWithout saying it, in so many words, is it not plain that I am merely\nfollowing in a way that an ordinary mind might understand, the creed\nwhich science has recommended as the underlying motive for all\nconduct--self-interest and the rule of reason.\n\nDoubtless a very highly developed scientific intellect might declare\nthat my reason is not sufficiently enlightened; but it has received a\nhigh school education, and looked about at what other people are doing,\nand formed the scientific habit of sticking to the facts. Isn't that\nabout as much as Enlightened Reason could expect of me?\n\n       *        *       *       *       *\n\nNow if you happen to be another type of workman, less affected by the\nmodern scientific conclusions concerning life, you might reply as\nfollows:\n\n\"I feel very contented and humbly grateful to the Lord for all the\nbenefits he has given us. I am well and strong, I have a better home,\nand better wages, and squarer treatment than workmen ever received in\nany country in the world. I can make enough to provide modestly and\ncomfortably for my wife and children, which after all is the main thing\nfor my happiness. It is not for me to pass judgment on the life of our\nemployer, or his inheritance, or the life of his father before him, or\nthe great scheme of human existence which is behind and beyond it all.\nIt is enough for me to accept such things, as the wish of an all-wise\nCreator.\"\n\nOf these two opposing points of view, which appears to be the one that\nhas been spreading and gaining in the world to-day--in America and\nEngland, Italy, France, Spain and other countries? Which one is\ndependent upon the fundamental feelings of faith and aspiration, which\nhave always found shelter in a religion of some sort--and which one may\nbe traced, almost directly, to a crude interpretation of the progress\nand dictates of modern science?\n\nAnd let it be noted that in this field, also, before the world war\nbegan, this movement of self-interest and reason was already in evidence\nand well on its way.\n\nIf we examine the Labor Union and the Closed Shop, and Strikes and\nSocialism and Bolshevism, and all those other kindred isms, we can see,\nreadily enough, that the under side of them all is tarred with the same\nbrush--self-interest, selfishness, greed, individual and collective, and\nreason, argument, excuse, more or less distorted and perverted, but more\nor less enlightened by the principles of modern Science, as they appear\nto the average intellect. The fundamental and innate spiritual feelings\nof man's better nature have been so covered over by the energy of this\nbrush that, for the most part, they are only rarely and intermittently\ndiscernible.\n\nSuppose we now follow our clue in another direction--into the home and\nfamily and private life of the average up-to-date woman. And it is\npermitted us to imagine, if we choose, that I am such a woman, while you\nare my well-meaning, but rather out-of-date, husband.\n\nI have received my education at a typical school of the present day,\norganized on thoroughly modern and scientific principles. In my studies\nand my general instruction, I have learned to consider everything from a\nstrictly rational point-of-view--hygiene, psychology, economics, the\nequal rights of the individual, the expediency of the laws, the need of\njudges to interpret them and of police to enforce them--and a variety of\nother school subjects which are regarded as an excellent training for\nthe intellect. Among other things which I learned very quickly, both\noutside and inside of school, is that most pompous and impressive\npreachers don't practise what they preach. It's so unpractical and\nunreasonable that it appears to be a sort of pretence and convention for\nthe benefit of the young and gullible. I find it more sensible to be\nguided by what other intelligent people around you are actually doing\nand learn in that way what they really think.\n\nThis is the era of woman's emancipation and the most intellectual and\nleading women of to-day believe that woman is the equal of man; and has\nas much right as he to the privileges and freedom of action, in every\ndirection, which he was able so long and so unfairly to reserve for\nhimself. As other women think that way about it and it's much more\nsatisfactory to me, I thoroughly agree with them. Marriage is an\nagreement between equals, a partnership for mutual convenience and\nhappiness, and exactly the same obligations apply to one, as the other.\nIf men find pleasure in smoking and drinking and gambling and flirting\nwith pretty women, why shouldn't I smoke and drink and gamble and flirt\nwith attractive men? If other women paint their faces, or dye their\nhair, or wear short skirts to show their silk stockings, or low-necked\nand low-backed gowns, to make themselves more attractive, why shouldn't\nI?\n\nIn regard to my children, I love them, of course, and I believe in\nbringing them up in accordance with modern, enlightened ideas. First of\nall, I want their love and affection--the pleasure of having them run to\nme and throw their arms about me, when I come into the room. If I scold\nthem and spank them and keep interfering with their natural instincts, I\nmight end up by making them afraid of me--as they are of their father. I\ndon't want that. I much prefer to pet them and spoil them and find\nexcuses for them.\n\nI have so many interests and engagements of my own to attend\nto,--social, civic, musical, charitable--that I haven't much time or\nnerves left, to devote to my children. An up-to-date emancipated woman\ncould hardly be expected to subject herself to that kind of hum-drum\nstrain, in any case. My nervous system is very highly organized and\ntheir restless activity makes me irritable. I couldn't stand very much\nof it--even if I didn't have my own affairs to occupy most of my time. I\nalways try to make it a point, however, to see them and kiss them and\nhave them throw their arms about me, before going to bed. I get the best\nnurse I can for them--the present one is a Swede, the last one,\nIrish--but they seem to be such stupid, cranky things! However, one\nthing I insist upon--they are not to slap the children, and are to let\nthem have their own way, as far as possible. And I make it equally plain\nto the children that if they have any grievance, they needn't mind about\ntheir father--all they have to do is come to me, and throw their arms\nabout my neck, and I will do the best to straighten it out for them.\nThat does a great deal to help me keep their affection.\n\nIf I get tired of my husband and cease to love him (or find some other\nman whom I love more), or if my husband neglects and humiliates me and I\nfind him involved in an affair with another woman; or for any other\nreason which seems sufficient to me; I consider it only proper that I\nshould have the right to go to a divorce court and dissolve the\npartnership. As it is an arrangement between equals, for mutual\nconvenience and happiness, when it ceases to be convenient or agreeable\nto me, it is perfectly reasonable that I should withdraw. That is to my\nself-interest guided by reason. Thousands upon thousands of other women\nare doing it, and no up-to-date enlightened person thinks any the worse\nof them--so why shouldn't I?\n\nYou, my well meaning, but out-of-date husband, may be imagined as\nreplying to this briefly as follows:\n\n\"What has become of all the deep and beautiful feelings of faith and\ndevotion and self-sacrifice, which throughout the ages have given a\nheavenly significance to the ideal of motherhood and wife-hood? Woman\nwas not made in the same mold as man and such was evidently not the\nintention of the all-wise Creator. But in man's imagination and in his\nbetter nature, the essence of woman's purpose and greatness has appeared\nto consist in being a sort of guardian angel of the home and family. Her\ncrown was made of purity, chastity, modesty, infinite tenderness and\npatience and underlying fidelity to her sacred cause. It is to her in\nthis capacity, with such a crown upon her head, that the noblest of men\nhave been willing to bow down, in humbleness and submission, not as to\nan equal, or a rival in worldly prowess, but as to a superior and more\nexquisite soul.\n\n\"That is the birthright of woman, the glory of her creation, yet between\nyour petty motives of self-interest and the up-to-date enlightenment of\nyour intellect, you are trying to argue it off the face of the earth.\nYou have exchanged a spiritual ideal of womanhood for a material mess of\npottage.\"\n\n       *        *       *       *       *\n\nThere have been plenty of vain and selfish women, in the past, just as\nthere have been profligate women and immoral men; but in the communities\nof the past, where faith and aspiration were wont to flourish and be\nsustained and encouraged by religion, such selfishness was not to be\navowed or imitated. In the light of finer and more spiritual feelings,\nit appeared as a deficiency and corruption of character. But in the\nup-to-date rule of reason, backed by the analysis and conclusions of\nscience, there is no need to conceal it, or excuse it. It is the strong\nminds, not the weak ones, which set the example; the enlightened,\nscientific, matter-of-fact intellects, which proclaim the principle and\nencourage the timid and less advanced to follow in their wake.\n\nAs regards the training of children, up-to-date considerations of\nself-interest on the part of the parents, mixed in with instinctive\nlove, as I have suggested by my illustration, would naturally result in\ngiving them an early start on the broad highway of calculating\nselfishness.\n\nAll the imposing school houses which dot the length and breadth of our\nland--public-schools, private-schools, boarding-schools--are constructed\nand administered in accordance with modern principles. In them no effort\nis spared to educate and enlighten the youthful intellect. It is trained\nin scientific information, and scientific methods, and scientific habits\nof thought. Rewards of one kind or another--diplomas, marks, privileges,\nprizes--are designed to operate as a stimulant for intellectual endeavor\nand excellence. Also considerable effort is expended, to care for health\nand develop the body, in accordance with scientific principles. In the\ngymnasium and on the athletic field, prizes are given to stimulate\nexcellence in this branch of endeavor.\n\nBut where, in all these institutions, are scientific professors devoting\nan equal amount of energy to the care and development of the feelings\nand sentiments of the spiritual nature? Where are the teachers of\nmodesty and self-denial? Of cheerfulness and sympathy and consideration\nfor others? Of sincerity, honor, fidelity,--conscience, aspiration, and\nfaith in a mysterious, all-wise destiny? Where are the prizes and marks\nto stimulate endeavor in these? What eloquent and inspiring assurance\ndoes this science give to the youthful soul that its delicate feelings\nare of more importance in the life of man than any excellence of the\nbody, or the intellect?\n\nA simple, old-fashioned mother, who loved her children with her whole\nsoul, might go a long way toward supplying this need. With no thought of\nself-interest, but with a feeling of deepest devotion to them and their\nwelfare, she was usually more than willing, to do all that seemed best\nfor their spiritual growth, with the help of God. In this inspired\ncause, she had no thought of sparing herself, or them, from self-denial\nor self-sacrifice. Such an undertaking on the part of motherhood has\ngenerally been regarded as a beautiful thing, the most beautiful and\nsublime on earth--perhaps for the very reason that it calls for so much\nself-denial and is so completely devoid of selfishness.\n\nBut an up-to-date mother, reasonably persuaded that she is the equal and\nrival of her husband in worldly pursuits, could hardly be expected to\nhandicap herself in any such way. In accordance with the principle of\nself-interest and the rule of reason, she can make a much more\nconvenient and agreeable arrangement. The money which her husband\nprovides can be used to hire nurses and governesses, who will take the\nchildren off her hands; and at an early age they can be sent away to a\nfirst-class school and so relieve her of all bother and responsibility.\nAfter that, comes college and then, of course, the rest is their affair.\n\nWhile they are little, she can kiss them good-night and feel their\nlittle arms about her neck and dote on their tender affection; and\nlater, when they come back from school for their vacations, she can make\na great fuss about them and let everybody admire the fond and foolish\ndemonstrations of a mother's love.\n\nWith due regard for the variations and differences of degree which occur\nin specific cases, does this not represent, both with regard to\nup-to-date women and the training of up-to-date children, the general\nunderlying tendency which is causing so much comment? It can hardly by\nany stretch of the imagination, be attributed to the world war,\nespecially as it was already in evidence before the war. But, as we have\ntried to make plain, it can be traced very simply and almost directly to\nthe influences and effects of the modern scientific movement, and the\nmatter-of-fact habit of mind engendered by it, which accepts as a\nlogical conclusion, the principle of self-interest and the rule of\nreason.\n\nIf we continue to follow our clue in other directions, wherever the\nup-to-date principles, or lack of principle, have been causing comment,\ndisturbing traditions, or appearing as a spirit of unrest, we find them\nsusceptible of the same general observations and the same general\nexplanation.\n\nA distinctly modern idea, that the nations of the world, as well as the\nindividuals, should forever remain at peace; and that all differences\nbetween them should be settled by arbitration, is a typical product of\nthe modern and scientific intellect. It has been much talked of lately\nand widely endorsed by logical persons. It is perfectly in accord with\nthe principle of self-interest and the rule of reason. There is no\nrational justification for the immense loss of life, suffering,\ndestruction and devastation caused by war. The only trouble about the\nprinciple is that, as it deals with human beings, there is with this, as\nwith other questions of conduct, that same unknown factor--the spiritual\nside of man's nature. One of the most fundamental feelings of\nmanhood--true for a nation, as it is for an individual--is that it is\nright, sublimely and everlastingly right, for a man to fight for his\nwife and children, to fight for his home and native land, to fight for\nhonor and to fight for right, as his conscience points to it.\n\nIt was in obedience to such a feeling that countless devout Christians,\nin the Middle Ages, fought and killed to uphold their religion. Their\nconsciences did not reprove them, it inspired them--notwithstanding the\ncurious fact that one of the doctrines of their Bible was \"to resist not\nevil\" and to \"turn the other cheek.\" But the fundamental feelings within\nthem, of right and wrong, of faith and aspiration, were stronger than a\ncreed.\n\nThe same thing was true of one of the wisest and most spiritual men who\never lived--Abraham Lincoln. In his conscience, he felt it was right for\nslaves to be freed and for the integrity of our nation to be preserved,\nno matter how great the cost of life and suffering and devastation.\n\nThe decisions of a board of arbitration, of cold intellects, basing\ntheir decisions on reasons of expediency, or abstract and scientific\nprinciples of a worldly kind, could not satisfy such feelings, or be\npermitted to override them. Lincoln would not, and could not, have felt\njustified in abandoning his cause to the opinion of European intellects,\nany more than the militant Christians could have their faith regulated\nby the decisions of Chinese and Persians.\n\nIt is in recognition of this principle, that up to the present time\nquestions which may affect the honor of a nation have not been\nconsidered a fit subject for arbitration. As long as faith and\naspiration and their kindred feelings are in the ascendant, conscience\nwill tell the individual, as it will tell the nation, that certain\nthings cannot and must not be abandoned, even at the cost of life.\n\nIf through the influence of the rule of reason, such a conception may be\noverlooked by the enlightened intellects of W.J. Bryan and Woodrow\nWilson, and a host of other well-educated people, that fact in itself\nmay be regarded as an additional symptom of the extent to which modern\nscientific training has spread confusion in the sentiments of the\npresent generation.\n\nCountless people are to be met with every day whose strongest inner\nfeelings are not strong enough to revolt at the thought of being passed\nupon, or decided against, by the matter-of-fact arbitration of reason.\n\n    I could not love thee, dear, so well\n    Loved I not honor more.\n\nThe meaning of those inspired words, to the average up-to-date mind, is\nso lacking in common-sense and self-interest, as to appear simple\nsilliness.\n\nThe other day, I was talking to a friend about the bringing up of our\nboys and, in the course of our conversation, he expressed a sentiment\nwhich struck me as profoundly significant. He said: \"I would rather have\nmy boy _be_ something fine, even if he got nowhere by it, than to see\nhim receive recognition and reward for doing something not so fine--and\nI would rather have my boy feel that way about it, too.\"\n\nBy way of illustration, if a bully were kicking a little tot, my friend\nwould rather have his boy fight the bully and get licked and rolled in\nthe dust, than to see his boy win first prize and much applause, for\nout-boxing a boy smaller than himself.\n\nOf course that is quite contrary to up-to-date principles and scientific\nenlightenment. There is no course in any of the high schools which\nteaches that sentiment, and the whole tendency of scientific training is\nto judge things by their tangible results. Moreover, the rule of reason\nwould decide that your boy is not justified in resorting to a fight,\nunder any circumstances. He might get hurt, or hurt somebody else. The\npropriety and right of the bully to do his kicking, should be settled by\narbitration. An impartial investigation might determine that the little\ntot had done something to irritate the bully to such an extent that his\ndisplay of anger and brutality was but a natural reaction.\n\nAgain and again, we arrive at the same underlying observation and\nexplanation. The intellect, scientifically enlightened, would argue away\nand take the place of innate, inspired feelings, whose faith has been\ncorrespondingly impaired and shaken by the breaking down of religious\nshelter and sustenance.\n\nThe relative passing away of honor in the business affairs of man, and\nits replacement by technical and hair-splitting calculations of\nlegality, which pass for honesty; the system of graft and pull and\nprivate benefit, which appears to have permeated and fastened itself\nupon most of the political machines in most of the cities of our land;\nthe personal immorality, or unmorality, and practical cynicism, which\nare so much in evidence, even among the best educated and most\nenlightened--especially among the best educated and most enlightened--in\npublic and in private, in their own homes and in their neighbors' homes,\nas well as in the divorce courts; the conduct of the up-to-date young\nmen, turned out by our most progressive schools--those of the leading\nfamilies, no less than those in humbler walks of life--their increasing\nreadiness to treat every pretty girl they meet as a proper field of\nendeavor and a possible instrument of pleasure; and the corresponding\nattitude among thoroughly educated and up-to-date girls, in accepting\nand welcoming such treatment; all these characteristic symptoms of the\nmodern spirit, of the so-called \"unrest,\" need not be referred, in any\nbut a secondary and accessory way, to the after effects of a war, which\ndid not begin until their line of progress was already plainly\nindicated.\n\nInstead of that, with all these symptoms in mind, let us sum up the\nlogical effect upon the average individual of our progressive methods\nand training.\n\nDoes he not say to himself, and should he not be expected to say to\nhimself:\n\n\"This is a wonderful age we live in, with the automobile, telephone,\nmoving picture, victrola, and all the other inventions. Modern science\nis the greatest thing ever. And one of the biggest things it has done\nwas to puncture a lot of old-fashioned superstitions and conventions, so\nthat nowadays no sensible person need believe in them. Each person can\nrun his own life in his own way, in accordance with the dictates of his\nown reason. Of course, there are the laws--but barring prohibition,\nwhich everybody breaks,--there's nothing in the others that a reasonable\nperson need have trouble with.\"\n\nThe obvious tendency of this is toward unmorality, rather than\nimmorality--what is good for self, in the eyes of self, without\nreference to religion, tradition or convention. The fundamental feelings\nof faith and aspiration which found protection and expression in those\nforms have been obscured and disregarded in the confusion of the\nbreak-down. Also the practical wisdom and accumulated experience of\nages, which were crystallized in them, has gone by the board in the same\nway. Modern science has scuttled the ships which carried them. The\nmaterial desires of each individual, left to the judgment of the\nindividual intellect, are apt to be treated with a certain amount of\nindulgence--even when the intellect has received the full benefit of\nmodern scientific enlightenment. Unmorality, lack of restraint, lack of\nfaith and aspiration, self-indulgence and pleasure seeking in all its\nforms--this is the natural and inevitable consequence of the kind of\nprogress which modern science is accomplishing, in connection with the\nconduct of the individual.\n\nIs not this a perfectly plausible explanation for the condition of\naffairs which the English author describes so concisely, without\napparently comprehending?\n\n\"We are a nation without standards, kept in health rather by memories\nwhich are fading than by examples which are compelling.... We have\nbecome a mob breaking impatiently loose from the discipline and ideals\nof our past.... Everything is sensual and ostentatious.\"\n\nIn our own country, among people of my class and kind, I may add the\ntestimony of first-hand information, that a large proportion of them,\nat the present time, have come to regard passing pleasure and acts of\nimmediate self-interest as the chief object and motive of their lives.\nIt is the pleasure of eating and drinking which concerns them and not\nthe needs of hunger or thirst; the appeal of sex solely as a source of\npleasure, far removed from any thought or aspiration to create new life\nand care for it; the pursuit of money for the pleasure of gain, and the\npleasure of out-witting others, and the gratification of vanities and\nluxuries, far removed from essential needs; meaningless distractions and\nentertainments, which tickle the wit and nerves of the material senses,\nbut by which neither the heart feelings, nor the soul feelings, nor even\nthe deeper esthetic feelings, are stirred or stimulated; jazz music,\nbright colors, lively movement, jokes and snappy ideas, seasoned\npreferably with spice and sex--this is the state, apparently, to which\nmodern methods and the rule of reason have led them.\n\nTo judge from observation and various information, which is only too\navailable, this tendency is steadily increasing; while, to judge it by\nthe light of the underlying causes which we have attempted to trace and\nmake plain, there is logical reason to expect that it will keep on\nincreasing.\n\nWhat, then, of the future? Is our civilization, like that of the Roman\nEmpire, destined to decline and decay? If the present condition is\nindeed an effect of modern science, either directly or indirectly, how\ncan it fail to continue? Modern science and the enlightened intellect\nwere never in fuller ascendency than they are at the present moment.\nThey are the proudest boast of our time. The very people who are\nlamenting the demoralization in our standards of living, are at the same\ntime applauding the triumphant march of science. Could they ever be\nconvinced that there is any connection between the two--that the\ndownfall which they deplore was brought about by the rise which they\napplaud?\n\nSelf-determination, as a modern principle of enlightened reason, was\nestablished and expounded by no less an authority than the\nscientifically educated intellect of our distinguished ex-president--in\nits application to the smaller and weaker peoples of the earth, as well\nas to the large and strong. If self-determination is the proper thing\nfor each nation, should it not be an equally proper thing for each\nindividual? And, as it is hoped and assumed that in this advanced age\neach nation will be guided by the rule of reason, why may the same\nassumption not be applied to the individual?\n\nIf all the nations in the world were to follow the lead of Russia and\nrespond to motives not approved by the intellect of our ex-president, he\nmight conclude that a large proportion of the world's population was\nstill unreasonable, without being convinced of the unsoundness of a\nprinciple which was, and would remain, in his mind the correct answer of\nenlightened reason.\n\nIf the rule of the majority, in any thickly populated community, was\nfound to result in the election of demagogues and grafters and\nunscrupulous politicians, who are clever enough to take advantage of the\nprivate selfishness and prejudices and indifference of the individual;\nand if you considered it a reasonable and enlightened principle that\nevery citizen should have equal rights and the majority rule, the\nunfortunate results might lead you to have a very poor opinion of the\nmajority and resentment for the corrupt politicians, without convincing\nyou of the unsoundness of the enlightened principle.\n\nIf the system of compulsory education--of enforced attendance at the\nhigh school--of all manner of children from the humbler walks of life\nwere found to result in filling their simple heads with extravagant\nnotions and worldly ambitions for which nature did not intend them,\nwhich breed discontent with the kind of work for which they are suited,\nwhich separate them from their parents and their congenial inheritance,\nand impel them in mistaken paths to learn bitterness and revolt--if this\nwere found to be the tendency in a large percentage of cases; and if\nyour reason considered that all individuals are entitled to equal\nopportunity, and that the education of the masses is an enlightened\nmodern principle, the tangible results, however unfortunate they might\nappear, would not convince you of the unsoundness of the principle.\n\nAs a matter of fact, very few people may be convinced of anything which\nis contrary to their liking, or in opposition to their preconceived\nnotions. An open mind may be helped to form an opinion, and people may\nbe confirmed and enlightened by ideas which are congenial to their way\nof thinking, but that is as much as may reasonably be expected.\n\nThis phase of the subject has not been my concern. I am merely trying to\nfind expression for what seems to me the truth, as I feel it and see it.\n\nAnd the truth is, obviously, that the aim and effort of modern science\nhas been to build up rather than to tear down. It has been striving,\nwith all the means at its command, to discover the true facts and the\ntrue principles with regard to all things and to utilize them for the\nbenefit of mankind.\n\nIt may be its attention has been chiefly occupied with the material\nthings of life, and the material principles which apply to them, but\nmodern progress, in many ways is a splendid thing. As applied to the\nlife of the individual, it is a splendid thing to improve the health and\nstrength and condition of the human body. And as for the intellect,\nanything that science has done or could do to develop it to the highest\ndegree, must be regarded as a step in the right direction. The body and\nthe mind are essential parts of a human being and, as we have had\noccasion to observe, it is a fundamental aspiration of man to make them\nalways better.\n\nIf science, in investigating the true facts of existence, has been led\nto conclude that many old-time traditions and beliefs were largely\ncomposed of imagination and ignorance, and the indirect results of such\na conclusion have proved unsettling and disconcerting, should blame be\nattached to any effort which seeks only the truth?\n\nThe present condition, however unfortunate it may appear to us who are\nexperiencing it, may be no more than a passing phase of development. The\ndawn of better days and finer standards, may lie just ahead of us, and\nwhen they come, it may be found that the enlightenment of the intellect\nby modern science was a necessary step in preparation for them.\n\nI, for one, am by no means without hope. Upon what grounds that hope is\nfounded remains to be considered carefully.\n\n\n\n\nVII\n\nHOPE\n\n\nIf we admit, or assume, that the ideals and moral standards of our\ncivilization are on the decline--that materialism, selfishness,\npleasure-seeking and dissipation of various kinds, are tending to\nsupplant the finer feelings; and that this movement has been gaining\nground rapidly in recent years--the question that naturally arises is:\nWhere will it lead to? Who, or what, is going to stop it?\n\nA distinguished gentleman has lately been delivering a lecture in\nvarious nearby cities on \"The Break-down of Civilization,\" and from the\nbrief reports I have seen of it, he is thoroughly convinced that things\nare going from bad to worse. I quoted a while ago from an English\nauthor, whose summing up is to the same effect. Newspaper editorials and\nmagazine articles and the private conversation of various people, are\nconstantly expressing similar views, and I have just come upon the\nexpressed opinion of the eminent writer and thinker, H.G. Wells, that\nunless something is done very soon, civilization is facing \"the greatest\nwreckage yet known in world history.\"\n\nAs the present \"demoralization\" was well under way before the World War\nbegan, that may be referred to, at most, as an accelerating influence,\nbut not as the underlying cause. It is more intelligent, and more to the\npoint, to recognize frankly that among a large and increasing proportion\nof our people there has been a crumbling away of religious belief. As a\nresult of that, the fundamental feelings of the soul--faith, conscience,\naspiration--are being neglected and starved.\n\nSo much ought to be fairly obvious to any one who is willing to observe\nand enquire.\n\nWhen we go one step deeper and look for the cause why religious belief\nhas been crumbling down, there is more room for confusion of ideas and\ndifferences of opinion. Many people blame the churches and the ministers\nand the lack of proper training of the children by their parents. Others\nblame the automobile and sports and recreations which are being indulged\nin on Sunday, through the laxity and insufficiency of the law-makers.\nStill others attribute it largely to the pernicious influence of the\nalien population. Finally, there are some who blame the vain, selfish\nspirit of the age, without bothering their heads to decide where that\ncame from (except to infer a general relationship to the devil.)\n\nThese opinions are opposed by those who regard the decline of religion\nas a source of satisfaction. In their eyes, it is an antiquated,\nnarrow-minded influence which has been allowed to interfere too long\nwith modern progress. The cause of its decline, as they see it, is a\nperfectly natural one--due to the fact that it has long since out-lived\nits usefulness, and in the present stage of civilization, people are\nmuch better off without it. They want Sunday to be, not a holy day, but\na holiday, unhampered by Blue Laws or religious cant of any kind.\n\nAs for the so-called demoralization of the present day, this latter\nclass are inclined to laugh at the croakers who look at things that way.\nConventions and styles are always changing and the modern ones are more\npractical and sensible than the old ones. New ways of doing things have\nalways appeared more or less shocking, until people got used to them.\nThat is the law of progress. The present age is an age of progress and\non the whole the world is more progressive and more enlightened than it\nhas ever been before.\n\nThese are the two prevailing currents of opinion, clashing against each\nother, losing patience with each other, and attempting to get the best\nof each other by means of agitation and organization, movements and\nanti-movements, of one kind and another, including legislative\nenactments.\n\nIt is fairly safe to assume that no effort of the religious sects can\nstay the march of the modern movement. It is possible to conceive that,\nthrough the forces of reaction, certain Blue Laws may be passed again\nand that in certain communities the religious observance of Sunday may\nbe made obligatory. Such things, at most, would be only of superficial\nconsequence. They cannot stop the spread of scientific enlightenment.\nAnd scientific enlightenment cannot be made to believe in tenets which\nare contrary to facts and conclusions, as it has been able to\ndemonstrate them.\n\nOn the other hand, it seems equally safe to assume that modern science\nand the rule of reason, if left to themselves, cannot be expected to\nnourish and encourage spiritual feelings. Their tendency, as has been\nquite plainly indicated, is in the opposite direction--to leave them out\nin the cold.\n\nAnother conclusion, which is beginning to dawn on many people--even\nthose scientifically enlightened--and which is likely to be more and\nmore generally recognized, is that the life of man without the\ninspiration of a faith of some sort, and the other inner feelings which\nattach to it, rapidly tends to materialism, selfishness, demoralization,\ncorruption and decay.\n\nThat, in brief, is the situation which confronts us all collectively,\nand upon the solution of which the future of our civilization, to a\nlarge extent, undoubtedly depends.\n\nSuggestions of one kind or another, tending toward an alleged solution,\nwill presumably keep making their appearance at intervals and a\nperfectly reasonable question is whether a sufficiently inspiring and\nsufficiently compelling solution will emerge in time to prevent the\nthreatened chaos.\n\nFor the moment, let us be content to defer consideration of the possible\nsolutions and turn our attention to the predicament which, in the\nmeantime, confronts the average individual.\n\nLet us suppose that such an individual, whatever may be the status of\nhis religious belief, or unbelief, becomes convinced in his own mind\nthat the selfishness and immorality and lack of sentiment, which seem to\nbe spreading in all classes, is a bad thing. Suppose he is willing to\nadmit, after due consideration, that our diagnosis and explanation of\nwhat is taking place is relatively correct. As most minds of the present\nday have a practical turn, the thing which interests him most, the thing\nhe asks at once and really wants to know is what you have to propose as\na remedy. How are you going to make people less selfish and more\nconsiderate of others? Less mercenary and more honorable? Less immoral,\nor unmoral, and more virtuous?\n\nThat is the main thing which counts, from a practical, personal\npoint-of-view: \"How am I to benefit by your conclusions and how are you\ngoing to make others benefit by them? Unless you have something tangible\nand useful to offer, your observations, though curious and instructive,\nare not of much account.\"\n\nLet us try, therefore, to reply, in this same spirit, and hazard some\nsuggestions which may prove helpful to those who want help.\n\nIn the first place, let us call attention to the fact that after an\nindividual has reached maturity, and his character and habits are\nformed, it is extremely difficult to change them to any great extent.\nThe motives and point-of-view which determine most of his acts have\nbecome, so to speak, a part of his second nature. This second nature is\nsomething of slow growth and development. That is the obvious meaning of\nthe old adage--\"As the twig is bent, the tree's inclined.\" To change the\ninclination of a full-grown tree, requires a great deal of\ndetermination.\n\nIn the case of human character, it may occasionally be done, through a\ngreat inspiration of the heart, or the soul. For a deep, ennobling love,\nor a new-born, exalted faith, the spirit and will are capable of almost\nany transformation. But usually good intentions, whose origin is\nconfined to the reason and which are at variance with an established\ninclination, don't persist very long.\n\nThe natural inference and expectation should be therefore, that most\npeople of mature years, however much they might approve of other\npeople's mending their ways, or even of mending their own, will be found\nto limit their effort principally to talk.\n\nIn the absence of a great inspiration, the chief influence which keeps\nacting on them is the example and standards of their associates--the\nprevailing style and custom. Most people are very susceptible to\nthis--women especially. For the sake of being in the fashion--or for the\nsake of not being considered out-of-date--many a nice woman may be led\nto do things which her instincts tell her are not nice at all.\n\nTo a slightly less degree, the same thing may be said of men.\n\nBut as the people who set new styles and establish new customs, in a\nselfish, materialistic age, are not apt to be guided by any great\nreverence for the finer traditional feelings, there is little help to\nbe looked for, from this kind of influence. The immediate tendency is\nall in the opposite direction. A woman's own reason might tell her that\nit is more becoming to pencil her eye-brows and paint her lips and face\nand yet, if left to herself, an inherited instinct might keep her from\ndoing so. But as soon as she finds that has become the fashion, she\nhesitates no longer. Women of innate modesty are to be seen, exposing\ntheir legs and bodies in public, drinking, smoking, gambling and dancing\nin a sensual manner with sensual men--things which they would revolt at\ndoing, if it were not for the style. It matters not that the people who\nset the style were devoid of modesty and prompted solely by material\nconsiderations of self-indulgence and immorality.\n\nUnder such conditions, how can people who are headed in this direction\nbe prevailed upon by any amount of advice, however well-founded and\nhelpful it might be? They may feel that they would like to see others\ndoing differently, but until that takes place, their brains will not\ngive them sufficient inspiration, or sufficient determination, to make a\nlone fight.\n\nThere may be exceptions, of course, and in time these exceptions may\nbecome fairly numerous; but as long as the main issue lies between a\nreturn to old-fashioned religious beliefs on the one hand, and the\ndictates of enlightened self-interest on the other, individuals who can\nhave no real enthusiasm for either, will be left to mark time or drift,\nmore or less reluctantly, with the current.\n\nThis is what may be reasonably expected to happen for some time to come,\nunless a great and fateful thing comes to pass, which will alter the\nentire course of modern civilization. As this great and fateful thing is\npurely a matter of conjecture, and may have no bearing on the conduct of\npeople now living, we will defer the discussion of it until after we\nhave finished with more immediate and practical considerations.\n\nThere appears to be one way, at least, in which a clear understanding of\nthe moral situation may result in practical benefit. The little children\nof the present day may still be bent and guided, their second natures\nmay yet be helped to grow and their characters to form, in any desired\ndirection. If we feel it is too late to bother over much about trying to\nchange ourselves, or the people about us, that feeling does not apply to\nour children.\n\nThat is a hopeful and helpful thought, and thoroughly practical. If all\nthe mothers and fathers of the present generation wanted their children\nto be better and finer than the demoralized people so much in evidence;\nand if they set about it in the right way, all might yet be well for\nthe future. And as a matter of fact, nearly all parents do want their\nchildren to be better and finer. All that they ask is to be shown the\nright way and they are ready, or think they are ready, to follow it.\nThis is not only a question of good intentions, prompted by reason,--it\nalso involves, as we have seen, the most fundamental feelings of the\nheart and soul.\n\nIt is a wonderful and beautiful thing--the depth and strength of this\nfeeling of parental love, especially the mother's. Nothing seems able to\nkill it, or corrupt it, in the vast majority of cases. The exceptions\nare infinitesimal. Even in those communities, and classes, and\nindividuals where materialism and self-indulgence have become most\npronounced, it is extremely rare to find a mother who does not love her\nchild; who does not hope and strive, in accordance with her lights, for\nits welfare; who is not willing, if occasion demands, to make a real\nsacrifice for its sake.\n\nMany mothers have not over-much deep feeling of any other kind; many\nmothers have little understanding of the problems of life which confront\nthemselves, let alone those which confront their husbands, or their\nchildren; very few mothers have more than a confused idea of the\ninfluences at work in forming character, in developing ideals and\ngenerous impulses, on the one hand; or self-interest, self-indulgence,\nand the rule of reason, on the other.\n\nHardly anything could be of more help to the future of our race than a\nclear and settled realization on the part of every mother of one simple\ntruth, which so many of our observations, in the preceding pages, have\ntended to bring out. The body of your child and the brain of your child\nare beautiful things, worthy of careful attention; but they are not\nnearly so beautiful, or so deeply significant, as the heart of your\nchild, or the soul of your child. A strong and healthy body and a highly\neducated intellect do not make a fine character; they may belong, just\nas well, to a mean and selfish man, or an immoral woman,--a crook, or a\nprofligate. A warm heart and a sensitive, dominant soul, do make a fine\ncharacter, and they cannot possibly result in meanness and immorality.\nThose sides of your child's nature are entitled to the most loving care,\nthe most constant attention, it is humanely possible to give them.\n\nIn the average family of to-day, how much thought, or time, is devoted\nto the observance of this essential principle? How many mothers are\nconsistently striving to watch over every tender requirement of the\nheart feelings and soul feelings of their children?\n\nThe bodies are well enough cared for, as a matter of course. The modern\nrules of hygiene and the advice of doctors may be relied on for that.\nThe same thing is true as regards the education of the intellect.\nKindergartens, primaries, high schools, boarding schools,\ncolleges,--relieve parents of all anxiety on that score. These two sides\nof a growing life, the physical and the mental, are so well taken care\nof, more or less impersonally, by the modern scientific system, that\neven if the mother neglects them entirely, they still receive adequate\nattention.\n\nIs this equally true of the heart and the soul, the development of\ncharacter, so vitally important in the life and worth of every human\nbeing? If, in spite of her love for her child, these considerations are\nneglected by the mother, through lack of understanding, or the demands\nof her own self-interest, is the remedy for this neglect also to be\nfound in the modern system? Unfortunately not. And right there is the\nsource of a great measure of the present demoralization. If the truth of\nthis could only be brought home to every mother, would not many a loving\nmother, for the sake of her child, be willing to sacrifice some of her\nown selfishness? If not, then indeed there is little hope left for the\nfuture of our civilization. But the beauty and wonder and endurance of\nthat God-given mother's love, in all ages and in all climes, ought to\nconvince us that the only difficulty lies in clearing away from the head\nof the up-to-date woman the confusion of ideas, the materialistic\ntheories of sexless intellects, and the force of pernicious example,\nwhich have been brought to bear on her self-interest, and obscured, for\nthe time being, her intuitive and eternally right understanding.\n\n\n\n\nVIII\n\nHEART AND SOUL\n\n\nAs the heart of a child naturally begins developing before the soul\nfeelings, let us talk about that first. And when we speak about the\n\"heart,\" it is, of course, understood that we are not referring to the\nphysical organ which pumps blood, but to that part of human nature which\nresponds to affection and sympathy.\n\nThe heart of a child--what a mysterious, wonderful, sensitive, beautiful\nthing it is! How much it gives and how much it is capable of receiving!\nAnd the one thing it wants most--the one it craves and hungers for, as\nan essential of its nourishment and growth--is love, tender, devoted,\nunfailing love. From the earliest babyhood, straight on to the years of\nmaturity, and still on, that is the greatest need of the human heart for\nits full and happy growth.\n\nIn early childhood, where is it to get that tender, devoted love, if not\nfrom its mother? Will it get it from a well-paid nurse or governess,\nwhether Swede or Irish, French or English? In the vast majority of\ncases, the nurse or governess hasn't it to give. Love is something which\ncan't be bought with money. Many a governess is a discontented person,\nwho thinks she is worthy of better things. Many a nurse is thick-skinned\nand bad-tempered. A large proportion of both have much more tender\nfeeling for their wages and their selfish interests, than they have for\nthe child entrusted to their care. Should anything different be\nexpected? It is not their child. In a few months, or a few years, it\nwill pass out entirely from their existence.\n\nPlenty of people can be hired to take care of your child's body and its\nphysical needs--nurses, governesses, doctors; plenty of people can look\nafter the education of its intellect; nurses, teachers, tutors,\nprofessors--but no one can be employed to take your place in feeding it\ndevoted love, because that love is God-given and God has not given it to\nthe others, but has given it to you.\n\nThe mother who turns over the heart life of her child to the keeping of\na paid employee is guilty of a vital neglect. If later on, it should\nhappen that the child proves lacking in affection, sympathy,\nconsideration for others, and fails to fulfill the mother's fond\naspirations, in that respect, she has herself to blame, first of all.\n\nIf this simple truth could be brought home to every modern mother, it\nmight prove very helpful to the next generation.\n\nIt is not difficult to suggest how the affections find nourishment and\ndevelopment. And remember we are not yet considering the moral feelings,\nbut only the heart.\n\nLove begets love; love is largely mutual; love thrives on the\ncompanionship of the loved ones.\n\nThe tenderness, sympathy, devotion of a mother, very surely and quickly\nopen out the heart feelings of her child and meet with warm response.\nThe more constant the companionship, the more constant the outpouring of\naffection on both sides, the more that side of the child nature grows.\n\nAnd the more it grows,--with mother watching over it, helping and\nguiding, setting the example--the more it has to give to other people\nand things. It will love a doll, a kitten, a puppy dog, and show them\nthe same sort of tender attention that it receives from mother. It will\nfeel sorry for a poor little bird with a broken wing; it will feel sorry\nfor father, when he comes home tired with a headache; it will put its\narms about father's neck and want to kiss the headache away.\n\nAs it grows older, it should be allowed to feel, and made to feel, that\nmother's love and father's love will never desert it--that that love may\nbe counted on, as a mainstay of life, through thick and thin, fair\nweather and foul, to the very end. This should not be left as a matter\nof uncertainty, or wonder, or doubt. No mother should ever say to a\nchild, or allow it to imagine, that if it should be naughty or bad, or\ndo this, that or the other, mother would cease to love it, or father\nwould cease to love it. Such an idea is poisonous to the true feeling\nand conception of love, which should be cherished in every child by\nevery mother. Mother should take pains to make the child feel,--and she\nshould take pains to make father do so, too,--that no matter what it\ndoes, their love for it will never weaken or waver. It is not enough to\nassume that this will be taken for granted--it should be confided to the\nchild, at opportune moments, as the most sacred of secrets, the holiest\nof promises. And no time is more opportune for the telling of it--no\ntime means more or counts more--than one of those moments when the child\nhas done wrong and is troubled in its conscience, and feels ashamed and\nforsaken. That is a splendid occasion, for a mother's love and a\nfather's love to prove themselves, by making doubly plain that although\nthey, too, may feel ashamed, the strength and warmth of their love is\nundiminished.\n\nWith nourishment and care of this kind the heart nature of a child is\nalmost sure to grow and thrive. Its love will feel the influence of the\nbig love it receives and want to respond in kind. In due time, it may\nsay to itself, and confide as a holy secret to mother, that its feeling\nfor her and father will never change, either, no matter what happens, to\nthe end of time.\n\nAs regards consideration for others, with the constant help and guidance\nand example of a devoted mother, this can be made to grow and thrive,\ntoo, until it becomes a beautiful and sensitive part of second nature.\n\nWith such feelings nourished and cherished in this way, there is ground\nfor hope that one of a parent's sweetest and most fundamental\naspirations, in regard to the off-spring, will not be disappointed. The\nheart will be in the right place.\n\nNow, on the other hand, it is only too easy to see what may happen and\nwhat does frequently happen, if this sacred responsibility of a mother\nis neglected.\n\nSuppose the child is left, for the greater part of the time, day in and\nday out, to the companionship and care of a hired substitute, a nurse or\ngoverness? In the first place, the substitute is very apt to have no\nlove at all, or what little it has, may be a very thin and shoddy\nvariety. Frequently a nurse is unsympathetic, irritable, and selfish.\nThat does not provide either good nourishment, or good example, for the\ntender heart feelings.\n\nWhen a child does wrong, the nurse scolds it and displays an ill-feeling\nwhich is the very contrary of tenderness and affection. That is bad\nenough, but it is not half so bad as the fact that this same repellent\ntreatment is very often accorded a child when it has not done wrong at\nall, but has merely obeyed some spontaneous and beautiful impulse of its\nlittle nature, which an irritable nurse does not bother to understand.\nThe way that a nurse wishes a child to go is not usually prompted by any\nloving consideration for the heart feelings of the child, but a very\nselfish consideration for the convenience and prejudices of the nurse.\n\nI have known many cases where the sensitive feelings of a little boy or\ngirl have been turned to violent dislike by a nurse, or a governess. For\ndays and weeks and months they have been obliged to live in the constant\ncompanionship and under the constant influence of an antipathy which\nsours and freezes their affections. I have known cases where a nurse, in\norder to achieve her own ends and relieve herself of trouble, has told a\nchild to lie quietly in bed, when the light goes out, or a big and\nhorrible bugaboo will creep out of the darkness and spring upon it. In\nsuch cases, the nurse takes good care to keep the child from giving a\nhint of this to mother or father, under pain of equally terrifying\nconsequences. I have friends to-day, grown up men and women, who cannot\ngo into a dark room, anywhere, without a shiver and shudder of nameless\ndread, which began with that same black bugaboo.\n\nI have known countless cases, where a nurse has said to a child, who has\ndone something wrong or annoying: \"I don't love you any more. I don't\nlike you now at all.\" And I have known countless cases where mothers,\nthemselves, have said and acted the same thing. And the effect of that\nis to belittle and corrupt in the child's heart a bigger and deeper\nconception of love, as a loyal and steadfast thing, with no string\nattached to it. If a nurse, or a mother, can withdraw her love, for a\nslight cause, then a child when it grows up can expect to do the same; a\nwife can withdraw her love from her husband, if he does something to\ndisplease her; a husband from his wife; a son and a daughter from their\nparents; a sister from her brother. How sad that seems, at first, and\nhow it hurts! But little by little, as one sees and learns, and as the\ntwig is bent--do not many up-to-date young people adapt themselves very\ncomfortably to that belittled conception of love? Do not the divorce\ncourts and remarriages and scattered children and the talk and acts of\nemancipated women give ample evidence of it?\n\nHow glibly a certain kind of woman talks about sons and daughters\nlacking affection, and being so selfish, and so inconsiderate of others!\nHow many of those women have taken the trouble to consider whether the\nheart feelings of those sons and daughters were nourished and cherished\nand guided, by the devotion of a loving mother?\n\nThis is a woefully inadequate sketch of one of the most important\nelements of life, one of the most vital factors in the formation of\nhuman character, about which volumes might be written. It may be enough,\nhowever, to suggest reflection and a better understanding on the part of\nsome mothers, well-intentioned, but confused by progressive theories,\nwho are really in need of help.\n\nWe may now move on to the moral and spiritual feelings.\n\nThe most casual observer has no difficulty in noting the fact that most\nchildren to-day are lacking in discipline, obedience, respect,\nconsideration for others, and many other qualities, which have been\nregarded as essential to a well-bred person. There has been no end of\ntalk about it lately, as we know.\n\nAs far as I have been able to learn, there is a fairly general\nconsensus of opinion that this is due to a lack of the proper kind of\nearly training in the home. As often as this question has come up in my\npresence, it has always been answered readily and confidently to this\nsame effect, and the answer has met with unanimous approval of men and\nwomen alike.\n\nBut I have never heard one single woman attempt to explain how it is\nthat, with all the emancipation, and higher education, and scientific\nenlightenment, which has been placed at her disposal, modern mothers\nshould fail to give their children a better training than ever, instead\nof a worse. Is it good for the children? No, of course not, they admit.\nDon't modern mothers love their children? How absurd! Every mother loves\nher children--more than a man can understand. Then why is it modern\nchildren don't receive proper training by their modern mothers? Oh,\nwell, a good many women, nowadays, have so many other things to do, they\nhaven't the time. Are these other things more important than the welfare\nof their children? Not that--nothing could be more important. Then,\nwhy--?\n\nIf anybody gets that far with the average modern woman, he has done very\nwell. She usually shrugs her shoulders, tells you not to be silly and\nparries with some feeling remarks about husbands and fathers. What do\nthey do? And how do they do it? And who's really to blame?\n\nIf you ask a modern man the same question, and no women are present, he\nmay express himself confidentially, that most women, nowadays, are so\nfed up on civic committees, or recreation centers--bridge parties or\npink teas--uplift movements or school boards--golf, tennis,\nautomobiling--that they don't know what's going on in their own homes.\nThey have advanced ideas about everything--principally themselves. When\nit comes to the children, their advanced ideas result, pretty much, in\nletting them get along without any home training at all.\n\nThe women, when left to themselves, usually have little trouble in\nconvincing themselves that if men had the proper kind of love for their\nwives and showed them the consideration and devotion which every\nfeminine heart craves and is entitled to, there would be no trouble at\nall about the home. Every true woman would be found to respond\nmagnificently. In nearly every case, the fault begins with the man--in\nhis neglect and selfishness--and then man-fashion, he turns around and\ntries to lay it at the door of the woman. And so forth and so on.\n\nBut again, no one attempts to suggest, or explain, why it is that the\nmodern husband, who is better educated and more enlightened than\nhusbands ever were before, should be behaving so badly. It is enough to\nagree and expatiate on the fact, without countless examples, that that\nis how it is.\n\nAnd the average mother, to-day, will be found expressing the fervent\nhope that her son will not grow up to be as self-centered and neglectful\nof his wife, as most husbands are.\n\nThe effect of such talk, naturally, is to becloud the point at issue and\nconfuse the mind. The point is that even in the minds of the women, the\nunseemly behavior of young people of both sexes is due to a lack of\nproper training in childhood. No enlightened woman believes, or claims,\nthat two wrongs make a right. She does not believe that a man could, or\nshould, take the place of a mother in dealing with children. She does\nnot believe that he should become soft and effeminate, for the tender\ntraining of infants, but on the contrary, should be energetic and manly,\nfor the battle of success.\n\nAs far as the children are concerned, she cannot but admit that the\nimmediate responsibility has nowhere else to rest but in her. If she\nchooses to pass it over to a nurse or governess, that is her affair. It\nis for her to engage or discharge the nurse and governess as she sees\nfit. And it is rare indeed to find a mother anywhere who would think of\nallowing any interference with what she considers her fundamental right.\n\nIf she neglects her responsibility, or fails in it, and the results are\nmore or less disastrous, it is a very feminine excuse, to argue that she\nhas a selfish and inconsiderate husband. The care of the children was\nher affair, not his; both herself and nature agree upon insisting that\nthis should be so.\n\nIn this connection, therefore, it is to the mothers, principally, that\nwe should address ourselves. At some other time, we may, if we choose,\nenter upon a discussion of that complex and much confused question of\nhusband and wife in their relation to each other.\n\nUnder present-day conditions, curiously enough, the first thing it seems\nnecessary to ask a mother is this:\n\nDid you ever stop to reflect upon the tremendous and wonderful\nimportance which may attach to the bringing up of one single child? Even\nif your heart feelings are rather anemic and your soul-feelings have\nbecome so muddled and confused by practical considerations that you no\nlonger get any real message or inspiration from those two divine\nsources, yet you still have left a modern and enlightened brain. Even\nthat is enough to make you almost dizzy at the thought of this thing,\nif you will pause long enough to give it careful attention.\n\nA modern battleship, or an airplane, or an automobile, is a vastly\ncomplicated and efficient piece of machinery. If you, yourself, left to\nyour own resources, had the ability to turn out a complete battleship of\nthe most improved design, you would doubtless consider that you had\nachieved something to be immensely proud of. But the greatest battleship\non earth is not one-hundredth part as complicated and efficient a piece\nof machinery as your little son. And one of a dozen different faculties\nwith which your son is equipped--the power of memory, for instance--is\ninfinitely more intricate and more wonderful than anything and\neverything about a battleship put together.\n\nYou might have an ambition to paint a beautiful picture, or compose\nbeautiful music, or write beautiful poetry, or do something else with\nyour life which you deem to be useful or beneficial to your fellow men.\nBut by cherishing such ambitions in your son and transmitting to him all\nthat is best in your own self, this same result may be obtained for the\nuse and benefit of your fellow men. And in addition to that, you will\nhave given to the world a wonderful human being, who may be able to\nachieve many bigger and better things than you could hope to do. More\nthan that, your son may be able to transmit the ambitions and feelings\nwhich you have given him, to his children and their children, until your\none achievement in making a splendid son, may expand and multiply into a\nwonderful lot of men and women, each and every one of whom may achieve\nmore useful and beautiful things for the benefit of mankind than you\ncould hope to do. All this may readily come about, if you apply yourself\nunsparingly to the unique and glorious task of making your son the right\nkind of man.\n\nThis is only one part of the wonder. If you are willing to devote your\nheart and soul to this one task, another recompense is in store for\nyou--a multitude of sublime recompenses. Each and every fine and\nbeautiful thing your son does, as long as you live, will fill you with\ndeeper gladness, more intense joy, than anything you yourself could\npossibly accomplish, through your own efforts. That is the crowning\nmiracle of a mother's love and every mother who loves her own with all\nher heart, knows that it is eternally true. Just to look at your son and\nfeel that he is fine and right and worthy of all the love you have\nlavished on him, is to taste an exquisite contentment, to which no\nother kind of earthly pleasure is comparable.\n\nAnd this same feeling of contentment will be waiting to steal into your\nheart upon the coming of your son's children--each and every one. Your\nmother's love will find a renewal of its glory in your grandchildren.\nFor they, too, have in them the same mysterious spirit of you which you\ncherished in your son. And so, as you sit back, in old age, in brooding\ncontentment over the young lives, so full of possibilities, you may\nreflect, in the sweetest way imaginable, that it is going on\nindefinitely, this essence of you and yours, on and on, to the end of\ntime, fulfilling on earth the unfathomed but divine purpose of the\nall-wise Creator.\n\nPeople whose interest in life is centered in self-indulgence and\nmaterial pleasure, may regard with dread the approach of old age; but\nnot so a mother, whose deepest feelings have gone unreservedly to her\nchildren. To her it will come smiling, with the radiance of that most\nbeautiful of all periods--a golden Indian summer.\n\nTake it all in all--for the reasons we have suggested and many\nothers--the bringing up and giving to the world of a fine human being,\nthe endeavor to make that human being as nearly right as possible, is\nthe most important, the most profoundly significant undertaking that\nexists on earth. The all-wise Creator has entrusted that work, in a most\nbeautiful and soul-stirring way, to mother love, the deepest and\nstrongest feeling of which humanity is capable.\n\nIf a mere man will devote the greatest part of his energies, day in and\nday out, year in and year out, to making pictures, or making stoves, or\nmaking money, to support the family,--how can a mother be unwilling to\ndevote as much of her energy to this sacred task, which she knows is of\nmore vital consequence than any material thing?\n\nWould that some one might be found to carry this message to every mother\nin the land--some one whose voice is so tender and true and appealing,\nthat it might find its way straight to the core of their hearts and\nsouls--clearing up the tangle of confused notions which the sexless\nreason and self-interest of progressive intellects have been making!\n\nIn the meanwhile, we must be content to see things as they are and pin\nour faith to the belief that, as the baleful effects of the current\nmisunderstanding become more and more apparent, the mother love, of its\nown accord, will become sufficiently alarmed, to throw aside its\nlethargy and seek to make amends by devoting itself more consistently\nto the welfare of its own.\n\nLet us assume, therefore, that a mother of the present day, is deeply\nconcerned in the moral and spiritual feelings of her children--that she\nwants them to have fine sentiments and fine characters--and that she is\nanxious to do anything within her power to bring this result about. What\nis she to do? What method is she to follow? In this age of\nenlightenment, with all sorts of theories in the air, how is she to know\nthe proper way of forming a fine character? As a matter of fact, in many\ncases, it is just because her ideas on this subject have become so\nconfused, that many a modern mother has been led to side-step the\nresponsibility and let things drift along in the easiest way, after the\nexample of those about her.\n\nOne of the first questions that is sure to confront her is the question\nof discipline and obedience. On the one hand, is the traditional idea of\nthe past--\"Spare the rod and spoil the child.\" She is familiar with this\nand there is nearly always someone near her who advocates it\nfirmly--very possibly her own husband. On the other hand, she has read\nand heard and seen a lot which is directly opposed to that. Children\nshould not be controlled by fear, like animals. There is something mean\nand ugly and revolting in the very idea. It is better to be loved than\nfeared--better for the mother and better for the child.\n\nBetween these two contradictory principles, even if she has the best\nintentions in the world, what is she to do? Is it to be wondered at, if\nmany a modern mother, in this predicament, vacillates between the two?\nShe doesn't like to punish the child and most of the time she avoids\ndoing it; but now and then, when things have gone too far, or she is\ntired and irritable, she makes up for it by losing her temper and going\nto extremes. And the effect of this kind of treatment on the forming of\na child's character is about as bad as could be. It doesn't produce\ndiscipline and it doesn't produce obedience; and it doesn't lead the way\nto any moral conception or principle. What it does inculcate in the\nchild spirit very quickly is a feeling that the attitude of mother is\nlargely a matter of mood, a very uncertain and variable quantity, which\nfor the time being has to be put up with. And as the child cares more\nfor mother, presumably, than anybody else in the world, it is no more\nthan natural for it to apply this same point-of-view to other people\nwith whom it comes into contact. There may be a certain amount of\nprecocious wisdom in this, but it does not help the growth of moral\nfeeling. And so it happens, in many cases, that at the very start, the\ntwig is given a bend in the wrong direction.\n\nNo mother really wants to spoil her child. She may say, with a loving\nand enigmatical smile, that she prefers to \"spoil\" it; but that is only\nher way of saying that she knows better than some stern and misguided\npeople what is best for its tender wants. If she thought for a moment\nshe was really spoiling the child's character, she would stop smiling at\nonce and become very much exercised.\n\nAs we have started with this question of discipline, let us not leave it\nuntil we have followed it out to the full limit of our reflections.\n\nIf the choice necessarily resolved itself into one or the other of these\ntwo principles--strict obedience, rigidly enforced by punishment; or a\nvacillating policy of petting and scolding, leading to moral\nconfusion--there could be little hesitation in deciding which would be\napt to give better results in the formation of character. The old way,\nif somewhat crude and summary, has proved itself capable of producing\ndiscipline and respect for authority, a womanly woman and a manly man.\nThe other way has not given much evidence of producing anything nearly\nso worthy or admirable.\n\nBut, as a matter of fact, the choice need not be, and should not be,\nlimited to these two principles at all. There is another method of\narriving at the formation of character which is essentially different\nfrom either.\n\nThe chief fault of the old method of giving the child a whipping, if it\ndisobeys, is by no means confined to a lessening of a child's love for\nthe mother, who whips it. This is one consideration which is given great\nweight by many women, at present. It would in itself be a real hurt to\nthe mother and a real hurt to the child. But there are other\nconsiderations. Sometimes the whipping may not be deserved--it may be\noccasioned by a loss of temper, or a misunderstanding--and in such cases\nit is apt to leave a feeling of resentment and injustice. This is in\naddition to the feeling of fear, which corporal punishment is apt to\nproduce. Quite irrespective of the harm to love, it introduces a false\nmotive into the formation of character. The little sprouts of conscience\nmay be overshadowed by this weed of fear. The fear of a whip, in a hand\nwhich may be strong but not necessarily just, very naturally brings into\nplay the instinct of self-defence, to prompt and justify all manner of\nconcealment, deception, cunning, lying. Those are a lot more weeds\nwhich may in time crowd out the more delicate soul feelings.\n\nDiscipline, bought at such a price, is paid for very dearly. In my own\npersonal experience as boy and man, the most hypocritical, mean-spirited\ntreacherous characters I have come into contact with, were among those\nwho had been most disciplined by unsympathetic and unrelenting parents.\n\nThis is not to say, or imply, that corporal punishment, or stern\ntreatment, necessarily leads to such unfortunate results. It is merely\nto indicate some of the possible dangers and drawbacks. With sturdy,\nprimitive natures, an occasional beating is a matter of little moment;\nwhile for unthinking, commonplace minds, and undeveloped, unsensitive\nsouls, the habit of obedience and docile respect for authority, in any\nand all forms, may be an excellent thing. A wolf cannot be trained in\nthe same way as a setter dog, or a canary bird; and even among horses,\nthe kind of treatment that a cart-horse thrives under, would ruin a\nthoroughbred completely.\n\nThe traditional methods of handling children date back to a time when\nthere were many wolves and cart-horses and no method would have\ngenerally survived which did not include them.\n\nBut in our advanced civilization, as mothers frequently have more\nsensitive stock to deal with, there is reason for them to feel that,\nsomehow, they should go about it differently. This appears to be a\npartial explanation of what we see going throughout the length and\nbreadth of our land. It is for their benefit that a more sympathetic\nprinciple has been gradually emerging from the confusion.\n\nAnd let us note in passing that the altered sentiment on the part of\nmothers, and the principle which responds to it, cannot be credited in\nany way to the achievements of modern science, because a similar\ntendency showed itself sooner and became more pronounced and wide-spread\nin communities of China and Japan, where no modern science had\npenetrated. It would seem rather an intuitive growth of delicate\nunderstanding on the part of parents, as they become relieved from the\nstrenuous needs of material existence.\n\nThis third principle does not tend to \"spoil\" the child, or repress its\naffection, or distort any of the finer impulses of its spiritual nature.\nIt does not destroy obedience or discipline; but instead of obedience\nand discipline inspired by a whip, it seeks to erect self-obedience,\nself-discipline and self-control.\n\nHow does it work? First, through love, because in nature that comes\nfirst; then, little by little, through the unfolding of conscience and\nfaith.\n\nWe have talked about the heart feelings of a child, so it is only\nnecessary to refer to them again, not for the joy they may bring to\nmothers, but because loyalty, fidelity, consideration for others,\ngrowing out of affection, may merge imperceptibly with feelings which\nare essentially moral and spiritual, to the immense advantage of both.\nLet a mother love her child, then, and cherish its love, with all the\nlavishness, tenderness, constancy of which she is capable. There can\nnever be too much of it--there can never be enough of it--either for the\nchild's good, or the mother's. And before the child is really old enough\nto think, let it have a radiant, deep-rooted feeling that mother's love\nis a mainstay of life, which will never waver or desert it, under any\npossible contingency, and which it, in turn, will never, never desert.\nAnd let a mother never trifle with that feeling, or prove fickle to it,\nat any stage, but treasure it as the holiest of holies, the very essence\nof the character she hopes to see formed.\n\nIn the early stages of development, when a child's mind is unable to\nreason or understand, little habits of second nature are formed. The\nmoral questions do not come to the fore until the age of reason and the\nfirst awakening of the spiritual feelings. And they bring with them\nunavoidably, the problem of obedience and discipline.\n\nSuppose your son disobeys you, what then? Or suppose he has disobeyed\nthe nurse, and she comes and tells you? Something has to be done about\nthat, surely. What must you do?\n\nWell, first of all, there is one thing you must be very careful _not_ to\ndo. Don't scold--don't speak harshly--don't look cross--don't get angry.\nLook at your child with sympathy and understanding, and when he meets\nyour eye, with a cunning little look of shame and defiance, smile back\nat him reassuringly, and hold out your hand to him. Then, after the\nnurse has had her say, thank her for telling you about it and ask her to\nleave you, because in the tender confidences between mother and son it\nis not proper that an outside and possibly antagonistic influence should\nintrude.\n\nWhen she has gone, take him on your knee, put your arms about him and\nhug him tight. Don't let him forget for an instant that he is your very\nown and you are his very own mother. Whatever may be going to come of\nit, keep that point clear--that you are his partner and help-mate and he\nis never going to be left out in the cold. Nothing will help more toward\na fair-minded understanding of the situation. Ask him to tell you all\nabout it, just how and why it all happened and help him with your\nsympathy and patience to express himself fully.\n\nLet us imagine that this is what has occurred:\n\nWhen he was out walking, he saw a dead bird lying under the bushes on\nthe other side of a ditch. The nurse, Delia, told him not to, but he did\nclimb across the ditch and picked it up. It was an awfully pretty bird\nand he just wanted to look at it. When she told him to throw it away, he\nwouldn't come back. Then she caught him and shook his arm and he\ncouldn't help it--he just got angry. He threw the bird at her and called\nher \"an ugly old crow.\"\n\nWhen mother has heard it all, she can start in very gently to answer and\nexplain. And it won't hurt a bit to begin by letting him see that she\nunderstands perfectly just how he felt. She remembers a dead bird she\nfound once, when she was little. But, on the other hand, Delia was only\ndoing what she thought was best. There might have been nasty worms on\nthe bird.\n\nBut that, after all, is not the main thing. The main thing is, that if\nhe is to be trusted to go out walking with his nurse, he must be willing\nto do as she says, no matter how unreasonable it may seem. Otherwise\nmother would be worrying all the time--and something dreadful might\nhappen--he might get lost, or run over. He doesn't have to go out\nwalking with Delia, if he doesn't want to; that is for him to decide.\nBut if he does decide to go, it must be on the distinct understanding\nthat he agrees not to disobey her.\n\nThe boy is rightly entitled to his say about this and if he has any\nobjections, it is for mother to meet them and dissipate them with her\nlove and reasons. Nothing should be demanded between mother and son\nwhich does not seem just and fair to both.\n\nOne final point remains to be considered. He threw the bird in Delia's\nface and called her a name which must have hurt her feelings.\n\n_Boy:_ \"I couldn't help it. I was angry.\"\n\n_Mother:_ \"I understand that perfectly. But all the same, it was rather\nhard on Delia, especially when she was only trying to do what she\nthought was right.\"\n\n_Boy:_ \"Sometimes, I've got an awful temper.\"\n\n_Mother:_ \"I don't mind that a bit. I'm glad of it. It's only because\nyou have such strong feelings.\"\n\n_Boy:_ \"Have you got a temper, too?\"\n\n_Mother (smiling and nodding):_ \"Of course I have--as bad as yours--or\nworse.\"\n\n_Boy (delighted):_ \"Really?\"\n\n_Mother:_ \"But it's something we all have to learn to control. Because\nif we can't control it, it's sure to make us do things that we're\nashamed of afterwards--things that are unkind and unfair to others.\nAren't you just a little bit ashamed of what you did to Delia?\"\n\n_Boy (meeting her eye with smile of enquiry--then looking away and\nthinking, with feeling):_ \"No--I'm not!\"\n\n_Mother (petting his hand):_ \"Well--I suppose you're still thinking\nabout the bird--and there's still a little of that old temper left. But\nwait awhile and think it over. And--I'm going to tell you something that\n_I_ think would be awfully nice. Sometime, if you did happen to feel\nlike it and went to Delia of your own accord and explained to her how\nyou lost your temper and were sorry for calling her that awful\nname----?\"\n\n_Boy (looking away, thinking, then turning to her, hesitating and\nshaking his head):_ \"I couldn't mummy, please,--I couldn't--not now----\"\n\n_Mother:_ \"I'm sure she'd appreciate it, a lot. Poor Delia--she tries so\nhard and she's so sensitive and she's really so fond of you. Of course,\nI wouldn't want you to say you were sorry, unless it was really true.\nIt's only a sham and a humbug to make people say things they don't mean.\nIt's entirely a question of how you feel about it, in your own heart.\nAnd nobody can decide that for you but yourself.\"\n\nAfter an incident of this sort, how would a mother feel if Delia told\nher, the next afternoon, that Master Bob had come to her and apologized\nlike a little gentleman--and he'd been so sweet and dear--and he'd\nkissed her--and it touched her so, it broke her all up and she couldn't\nhelp crying?\n\nIf we take the pains to examine a little every-day example of this sort,\nit is not difficult to see that it involves some fairly important\nfeelings. First of all, it encourages a feeling of faith--faith in\nmother, in her sympathy and understanding and justice. Then\nconsideration for others--self-control--and finally conscience, what the\ninner nature, of its own accord, feels to be right. All these may be of\nvital account in the formation of a fine character, and they may be\nbrought into play by this sort of treatment just as effectually as by a\nbeating.\n\nOf course it cannot be assumed, or expected, that the immediate result\nin any given case will prove so satisfactory. Sooner or later, with\nnearly all children, there are sure to come times when gentle\nexplanations will not suffice. Something more impressive has to be\nresorted to.\n\nThis final resort was, in fact, faintly indicated in our example--but so\nfaintly, that it might be overlooked.\n\nIt was carefully explained to the boy that if he would not agree to obey\nDelia, when he went out walking with her, then he could not enjoy the\nprivilege of going out walking with Delia. This is a principle of\npunishment, which may be applied to any and all cases, to almost any\ndesired degree.\n\nAnd it has at least one great advantage over other kinds of punishment.\nIt can be made to avoid all danger of seeming unjust and arousing\nresentment.\n\nLet us look into the application of this principle with reference to the\nmore serious problems of misconduct which are liable to arise.\n\nIn general experience, the most serious troubles, or faults, which a\nmother has to contend with, are forgetfulness, temper, selfishness,\ndeception, lying. Her aim is to see them supplanted by a habit of\nreflection, self-control, consideration for others, sincerity, truth.\nShe believes and feels that these latter qualities are better for the\nboy's own welfare, better for the people he loves, better for everybody.\nShe wants her boy to feel this way about it, too.\n\nVery well, then, the first thing to be sure of is that the boy really\nunderstands the meaning of those things which you expect of him--the\nwhys and wherefores and the good that is in them. Otherwise--if he is\nnot sincere about it, if he must do things in which he doesn't\nbelieve--there's an element of sham about it which leads quite naturally\nto concealment and hypocrisy.\n\nIt is true, he may always be counted on to do a great deal for love, for\nmother's sake,--provided that mother has cared for that love. But that\nis a sacred privilege, which should not be abused. It may have the\neffect of setting a bad example. If she has the right to ask him to do\nsomething which he doesn't see the sense of and doesn't feel like doing,\nwhy shouldn't he have the same right to ask her to let him do things\nwhich she doesn't see the sense of and doesn't feel like letting him do?\nIf that is the way of love, why doesn't it apply to one, as well as the\nother? This may be very cunning and sweet, upon occasion; but for steady\ndiet, it does not help the growth of moral feeling.\n\nIt is much better that he should never be required to do things which he\ncannot understand sufficiently to feel the right of. This all comes\nabout quite naturally, in the course of companionship. There are\ncountless opportunities for explaining and questioning, about this,\nthat, or the other. No growing child is slow about asking innumerable\nquestions and trying his best to understand. Preaching of any kind isn't\nnecessary. It seldom, if ever, gets home in the best way. The same\nthing is true of scolding and harsh words. They are not at all\nnecessary; and they usually do a great deal more harm than good.\n\nLet us suppose, then, that your son has been guilty of an act of\nselfishness--and to make matters worse, through a feeling of shame, he\nhas first attempted concealment and then resorted to lying.\n\nThat is a rather trying situation for mother to face. It is about as\nhard a nut as she will ever have to crack. In the old days, there would\nbe no hesitation in saying that the first thing it called for was a good\nsound beating.\n\nBut instead of that, let us imagine that mother is brave enough to stick\nto her love feeling, reassures her boy, smilingly, and holds him close.\nFirst she gives him a chance to tell all about it, in his own way, and\nhelps him along to a confidential admission of the shameful facts.\n\nAnd to make the case as extreme as possible, we will assume that there\nwere no palliating circumstances whatever. The best that the boy can say\nfor himself is that he just didn't stop to think--he went ahead and did\nit--and afterwards, he felt ashamed and didn't want anyone to know--and\nthen, well, he tried to get out of it by lying.\n\n_Mother (smiling, thinking):_ \"Well, well--here's a pretty kettle of\nfish--isn't it? What in the world are we going to do about it?\"\n\n_Boy (looking down, nervous, does not answer)._\n\n_Mother:_ \"I suppose there's no use crying over it. The main thing is\nhow we can find a way to keep it from happening again. Perhaps it would\nhelp, if we could find the right kind of punishment?\" (No answer.) \"What\nkind of punishment shall it be--the fairest we can think of? Suppose you\ndecide it for yourself. What would you suggest?\"\n\n_Boy (very nervous):_ \"I don't know.\"\n\n_Mother:_ \"How would it be if, the next time you told a lie, you and\nmother couldn't, either of you, go riding in the automobile for two\ndays?\"\n\n_Boy (troubled, thinking, giving her a look):_ \"Two whole days?\"\n\n_Mother (smiling):_ \"That's a pretty big punishment but, after all,\nlying is a pretty bad thing, which we don't want to have happen. Suppose\nwe start with that and agree on it--two whole days?\"\n\n_Boy (looking down, thinking, very nervous):_ \"If you couldn't go\nriding, either--why should you be punished?\"\n\n_Mother:_ \"Because I'm your own mother and I love you better than\nanything in the world. Whatever you do, can't help affecting me.\nBesides, you see, in a way, I'm largely responsible for whatever you\ndo. If I don't bring you up right--isn't it my fault? And if we both\nhave to be punished together, that may help you to remember.\"\n\n_Boy gives her a glance, looks down, thinking--begins to smile,\nhesitates._\n\n_Mother:_ \"What are you thinking? Tell me.\"\n\n_Boy:_ \"You mightn't know anything about it--if it was to the cook, or\nDelia, or Vincent--or somebody else?\"\n\n_Mother:_ \"That's true. It's something else for us to think about. If a\nboy tells a lie to anybody--because he's ashamed or afraid--that's bad\nenough. But afterwards, if he doesn't own up to it like a little man,\nbut tries to conceal it from his mother, or deny it, that is ever so\nmuch worse. It deserves a much bigger punishment. Isn't that right?...\nIsn't it?\"\n\n_Boy looks down, showing more nervousness, finally assents._\n\n_Mother:_ \"Very well, then--this is what seems fair to me: If my boy\ntells another lie and doesn't attempt to deny it, afterwards--then the\npunishment will be as we agreed--two days, with no automobile for either\nof us. But if, before she hears of it, he comes, of his own accord, and\ntells mother all about it--that's better, and we'll reduce the\npunishment to one day. But if, on the contrary, he tries to conceal it\nand denies it and tells more lies, that is worst of all--and when it is\nfound out, as it is very apt to be, sooner or later--then the punishment\nwill have to be harder on all of us--and father will have to be included\ntoo.\"\n\n_Boy (quickly):_ \"Father?\"\n\n_Mother:_ \"If father is going to have that kind of a son, he will have\nto know about it and suffer for it, too. He will have to take his\npunishment, whether he wants to or not--the same as you and I.\"\n\n_Boy:_ \"Oh, mummy, please! Does father have to know about that, yet?\"\n\n_Mother:_ \"Well, you see, dear, father loves us both, very much. We both\nbelong to him--we both bear his name--and he works very hard to give us\neverything he can to make us happy.\"\n\n_Boy:_ \"But if I don't do it again----?\"\n\n_Mother (hugging him):_ \"All right! If you really mean to try very hard,\nperhaps we'll never have to come to that. I'm quite sure I don't want\nto, any more than you do. There! it's understood and agreed--and we\nwon't say another word about it.\"\n\nThat is a simple example of the principle; but it is enough to suggest\nthe beginning and end of the whole thing. It can be made elastic\nenough--gentle or severe enough--to fit almost any or all cases that may\nbe imagined.\n\nThe punishment is talked over and understood in advance, not in any way\nas a chastisement, inflicted by an angry parent, but as a necessary and\neminently fair means of impressing upon an unformed character the need\nof self-control, and the avoidance of an act which he knows is unworthy.\n\nThere are always certain things in every child's life which mean a lot\nto him--dolls, toys, games, skates, baseball, bicycle, automobile rides,\nswimming, tennis, golf--or something else--at all ages, up to manhood.\n\nTo be deprived of an important pleasure is a sure way of making him stop\nand think over the meaning of it. There is only one thing that will\nbring it home more surely and more deeply, and that is to see the one he\nloves best deprived of her important pleasures, too, as a result of his\nmisconduct. If mother cannot go out in the automobile; if mother cannot\nplay the piano; if mother cannot read to him, or tell him stories; if\nmother cannot come to the table for her meals;--the sight of this and\nthe knowledge that he is the cause of it, will put a terrible tug on the\nheart-strings and the conscience. And in extreme cases, if father has\nto be included in the punishment, and deprived of his pleasures, too,\nthat makes the boy's feeling of guilty responsibility even more\npronounced.\n\nYet, with it all, there is no chance for a sense of personal resentment\nand injustice to obscure the meaning. The unfairness and severity--if\nthere be any--applies most to mother and is inflicted by the boy's own\nact. And if mother sets the example of accepting it bravely and\nsmilingly, with no complaint and no scolding, and clings fast to her\nlove and sympathy, in this trial of love, such experiences may be\ncounted on to prove entirely helpful to the growth of moral feeling and\nself-discipline.\n\nAnd once a punishment has been determined and agreed upon in advance, it\nshould never be deviated from in the slightest degree. If a child were\nallowed to evade it, or modify it, by cajolery or cunning appeal, that\nwould tend to destroy the spirit of fairness and faith in mother's word.\n\nIf a child will not respond to this kind of treatment and this kind of\npunishment, it is fairly safe to assume that he would respond even less,\nas far as the development of character is concerned, to ill-temper,\nharsh language, and the whip.\n\nSo much for the question of discipline, about which many\nwell-intentioned mothers of the present day are so perplexed and\nconfused. In this connection, however, there remains to be made a\ngeneral observation and warning, upon which too much stress can hardly\nbe laid.\n\nA certain amount of discipline, in a few important matters which involve\nmoral feeling, is almost essential to the proper formation of character.\nOn the other hand, constant restraint and excessive discipline, in the\nnatural exuberance of youthful impulses and activities, is unwise and\nunfair to human nature. A mother who puts a healthy, normal boy in a\npretty suit of clothes, and then would talk punishment, because he plays\nin the mud, or climbs a tree, doesn't deserve to have a healthy, normal\nboy. His impulse to play in the mud and climb trees is infinitely more\nvital and admirable than the vanity and sentimentality which attaches to\nspotless clothes. Sturdy vitality is a splendid foundation for sturdy\ncharacter. Almost any kind of activity which does not endanger his life\nor health is good for him. Lots of love and a little helpful guidance,\nin essential things, is all that he usually needs--and very, very little\nrepression, of any kind--the less the better.\n\nIn a child's nature the faculty of imagination and the force of example\nare important considerations in the development of the spiritual\nfeelings and the formation of fine ideals. The world of make-believe,\nof purest fantasy, is just as interesting and just as significant as the\nevery day actualities of life. It makes not the slightest difference to\na little boy, or girl, whether the stories you read them, or the acts of\nhero and heroine, are reasonable or not. (And if, in the preceding\npages, I have referred to the child as being a boy, that is only for\nconvenience in writing and not to imply that the observations would\ndiffer in the case of a girl.) The child's imagination is ready and\neager to follow you anywhere and the main thing is the exercise of the\nfeelings occasioned by fictitious events.\n\nThis is one of the earliest ways for the tender soul nature to find\nnourishment and growth. The more rhymes and jingles it can hear, the\nmore fairy tales, stories of adventure, thrilling deeds of heroism, the\nbetter it is for the forming traits of character. In nearly all the\nstories a mother may find to read or tell to her children, there are\nexamples and side-lights of courage, devotion, honor, loyalty,\ncheerfulness, patience, and other exhilarating qualities. There is no\nnecessity of picking and choosing too carefully, or of attempting to\nconfine the exercise to a certain sort of fiction whose tendency is\nobviously moral. The biggest part of it is to give the imagination and\nfeelings plenty of food to grow on, to encourage and stimulate a liking\nand admiration for things which appeal to the interest through the\nimagination. Given half a chance, nature can be fairly well trusted to\nlook after the rest--and in the long run is apt to prove as true a guide\nas finicky and restricted notions which may be lacking in broad\ncomprehension.\n\nOne of the loveliest and most helpful occupations any mother can have is\nto learn to tell stories to her children. Many mothers may find\nthemselves a little deficient in this ability, at first; but, with the\ninspiration of love and their holy cause, almost any mother can soon\nacquire a charming facility in doing it. And the advantage to the\nchildren, as well as to mother, which may be derived from this method is\nvery considerable. A story told by mother is easier to understand, more\nsympathetic, more delightful, less set and cumbersome than nearly any\nstory which has to be read methodically from the printed pages of a\nbook. A mother is in close touch with the needs and natures of her own\nflock--she can embellish and interpret and add her own loving comments,\nas such and as often as she feels the call for it.\n\nI have found by experience that so many stories which are supposedly\ndesigned for children, make use of big and stilted words, complicated\nideas, and tedious, long-winded explanations. Mother can read them so\nquickly by herself and then preserve the pith and point of them in her\nown manner of recounting. There is practically no limit to the variety\nof kinds and subjects which may be interpreted and rendered available in\nthis way. The story of Ivanhoe, or Quentin Durward, or Lohengrin, may be\njust as readily told in this way as Cinderella, or Robin Hood, or\nAladdin and his Wonderful Lamp. But set any child the task of reading\nfor itself a great volume of Ivanhoe, or many of the other world\nclassics, or of listening to any one who waded through the long\ndescriptions for hours on end, is hardly to be thought of.\n\nFortunately there are a number of books which seem to have been written\nby people who love children and understand them. These a mother can\nsearch out and select from and make good use of.\n\nOne of the curious things about youth is that children love to hear the\nsame stories over and over again, even after they know them almost by\nheart. This is undoubtedly due to the fact that the appeal is\nprincipally to the feelings and not to the intellect. Intellectual\npeople, when once they know the contents of a book, seldom have any\nfurther interest in it. But music and painting and poetry do not lose\ninterest through familiarity, even for mature natures. Their appeal is\nmore like that which stories have for children.\n\nOwing to this condition of affairs, a mother need never be at a loss for\nstories to tell or stories to read. This part of child life should not\nbe an exceptional occurrence due to her mood or whim, but a constant\nfeature of the daily life to be counted on and treasured up. The lovely\natmosphere which surrounds it, the moral and spiritual ideals which are\nengendered by it, combine in making it a precious influence in the\nrearing of a new generation.\n\n\"But,\" exclaims the up-to-date woman, of enlightened intellect, \"what\nkind of old-fashioned, benighted mother are you prating about! This is\nthe era of woman's rights and woman's emancipation! What time would a\nwoman have for her own affairs--for the exercise of her rights, which\nhave been won with so much effort--if she had to keep bothering her head\nwith that sort of thing?\"\n\nThat is true. It would seem as if we had forgotten about the\nself-interest and selfishness of the modern movement, which is there on\nall sides to poke its tongue at a mother's devotion to her sacred cause.\n\nIndeed, we have no answer to give to that kind of selfishness. The\nessence of our thought is love and faith in the love of motherhood.\nThere is no selfishness in it and the language it uses is not\ntranslatable into terms which the rule of reason can hope to understand.\n\nBut to those mothers whose hearts are still in the right place, even if\ntheir heads have become more or less confused by the shouting and\nexample of intellectual leaders, there is a very simple observation to\nsuggest, as an answer to such objections.\n\nIs it of much importance or benefit to you, yourself, or to anybody, or\nany thing, that you should spend so much of your time in gambling at the\nbridge table? Or gossiping at an afternoon tea? Or attending a meeting\nat the woman's club? Or at the hair-dresser's and manicure's? Or in\nintellectual pursuits of any kind? Is it not more important to you and\nto your family and to the future of your race and kind, to devote a\nconsiderable amount of your time and energy to the children, who love\nyou and need you and can profit greatly by your help?\n\nIs not that entitled to the best you can give, not only because it is\nthe most important of all earthly occupations, but because by doing it\nyou set the blessed example of thinking first and most of others, and\nlast and least of self?\n\nAfter the children are tucked in their beds, peaceful and happy in the\nland of dreams, then it is time enough for you to turn your thoughts to\npersonal distractions and pleasures, which are proper and wholesome for\na human being when the daily work of life is done. Nobody will begrudge\nit to you, and you need not begrudge it to yourself. It is what\ndistractions are for. It is also what the great majority of husbands and\nfathers and grandfathers have been doing since the beginning of\ntime--working to the best of their ability for the good of home and\nfamily--content with their recreation, after the work is done?\n\nHow can any true mother in her heart and soul be so disturbed and\nmisguided by intellectual enlightenment that she could be led to desert\nher eternal responsibility for the pursuit of selfishness--or the\nagitation of _isms_?\n\nIt ought to be reasonably clear that if a mother does desert her\nresponsibility, and leaves to the care of a hired employee the\ndevelopment of her child's moral and spiritual feelings, the results are\nliable to be very unsatisfactory. It is the same story over again, which\nwe took account of in connection with the heart feelings. Nagging,\nscolding, lack of sympathy, false standards, superstitions, threats,\ndeceptions, bug-a-boos--are all apt to take a hand in forcing a\nnecessity for discipline and deforming character. The tangles of\ntemper, fear, deception, resentment, will never be unravelled and\npatiently straightened out. In their wake, are pretty sure to come,\nsooner or later, scenes with mother and father--hypocritical or defiant,\ncajoling, whining, or tempestuous--in which harsh and ugly words will\nsometimes play a part.\n\nAnd one fine day, the mother will probably vouchsafe the remark, as so\nmany modern mothers have done in my presence, that when certain boys, or\ngirls, reach a certain age, they get so that it is quite impossible to\ndo anything with them at home and the only sensible way is to ship them\noff to a boarding-school.\n\nHow much of a mother's time is required for the right kind of care for\nher children? Who can judge of each case, but the right kind of mother?\nWhatever the child has need of, that is for her to watch over and give,\nto the fullest of her capacity.\n\nAnd what of the role of a father in this most vital of responsibilities?\nIt is essentially that of a help-mate--to bring cheer and comfort and\ncourage, and the tenderest of protection and support. \"The hand that\nrocks the cradle is the hand that rules the world\"--so says the old\nadage. In any case, it is upon the sanctity and devotion of mother love\nthat the future of our race depends--and the deepest feeling of a manly\nman has never doubted it.\n\nThere is much, much more that might be said about the relationship of a\nfather to a mother, and of a mother to a father. The right foundation\nfor it should be the deepest of moral and spiritual feelings. The true\nsignificance of it cannot help being eternal, not temporary. In no\ndepartment of life, has the scientific principle of self-interest and\nthe rule of reason had a more confusing, corrupting, and destructive\ninfluence. To attempt to translate the meaning of a marriage into terms\nof a business partnership is a ghastly mockery.\n\nThis subject is too big and the discussion of it would carry us too far\nafield, to be undertaken in the present connection. Our attention has\nbeen confined, for the time being, to mother love and the formation of\ncharacter for the next generation.\n\nAnd the next question which confronts mother love is the question of\nschools and school education--one of the most perplexing and troubling\nof all, and yet unavoidable.\n\nLet us suppose that our mother is an ideal one--that she has\ngladly responded with the best that is in her to her love and\nresponsibility--that she has cherished and nourished every tender\nlittle bud in the heart and soul of her boy--that the twig of\ncharacter is rising up straight and beautiful, in every respect.\n\nThen comes the day when Master Bob must go off to school--a day school,\nor a boarding school, or first one and then the other.\n\nWhy does he have to do this? In the first place because it is the custom\nevery boy is supposed to do it, when he arrives at a certain age--and\nthen, to receive proper instruction, his brain must be taught, his mind\nenlightened.\n\nSo off to school he must go, and when he gets there, a new and different\natmosphere surrounds him, a new influence is brought to bear on the\nlittle character, so tenderly forming, and in the main the nature of\nthis influence is two-fold. First, there is the school-room and the\nschool books and the teaching of teachers--and second, there is the\ncompanionship, intimacy, teaching, of the other boys with whom he is\nthrown into contact.\n\nAs the action of this latter influence is usually the more immediate,\ndirect, and compelling, we may as well give it the foremost place in our\nconsideration. And let us be careful to state frankly and bear\nconstantly in mind that all cases are by no means alike. The conditions\nto be met with may be largely accidental and differ materially in degree\nor kind. And the consequences, for any particular boy, may depend very\nlargely upon accidental circumstances, or inherited tendencies. A boy,\nwho is naturally warm-blooded and very impulsive, may not react in the\nsame way as another boy, who is inclined to be reserved and reflective.\nIf I am led by my observations to make use of extreme or exceptional\nexamples it is not my intention to imply that they are the rule, but\nmerely to bring out clearly a point, or meaning, which, in less degree,\nmay have a more general application.\n\nWe have already had occasion to refer repeatedly to the force of example\nin shaping the conduct and ideas of a vast majority of people. Nowhere\nis this force more rapidly effective, than in the case of growing\nchildren. It is their instinct to absorb and imitate, consciously or\nunconsciously, and so adapt themselves to new conditions of development.\n\nAnd this instinct is sure to be very much alive, more than ever alive,\nwhen boys and girls find themselves removed from the family influence,\namid new conditions and new companions of the school.\n\nBefore we follow our boy, Bob, so far, let us pause for a moment and\nconsider this question of companionship with other boys and the\ninfluence of example, as it may have applied to him, while mother was\nstill at hand to watch over him. Any boy or boys that Bob might come\ninto contact with, or make companions of, would also come under mother's\neye. Not only that, but Bob would repeat to her, spontaneously and\ngushingly, every new thing that they said, or did. And if Bob still had\na nurse hanging about, she would have an eye and an ear and something to\nsay to mother, too. If one of these boys happened to be tricky and\ndeceitful, resentful and cruel, mother would be sure to know about it\nvery quickly. She could straighten out Bob's feelings with regard to any\nof those things before real damage occurred; and she could see to it\nthat such contamination was kept away from him. As long as a boy remains\nunder the home influence, it is part of mother's responsibility to guard\nagainst just such things.\n\nAs soon as he goes away to school, and gets under the new influence, it\nis no longer possible for her to do so. Of all the various kinds of boys\nto be found at any school, which ones Bobby is destined to have as\nclosest companions, to exchange confidences with constantly, and have\nset him the example, is largely a matter of luck, or accident. It may\ncome about through adjoining seats in class, or though proficiency in\nthe same games, or a common interest in collecting bird's eggs, or\npostage stamps, or through being room-mates, or sleeping in the same\ncorridor at boarding-school, or one of a dozen other haphazard reasons.\n\nLet us imagine that by chance, in this way, Bobby's closest companions\nturn out, in due time, to be four in number. And for the sake of\nemphasizing our meaning and the principle involved, let us imagine that\nthe accident, in this particular case, is more extreme than usual.\n\nThe first boy, Ed, has been brought up chiefly by a stern and rigidly\nmoral father of the old school, who has reprimanded, disciplined,\nchastised, most consistently and thoroughly. The second boy, Sam, has a\nsociety mother, somewhat of a belle, and so feverishly absorbed in her\nvanities and distractions, that his up-bringing, from the cradle, has\ndevolved entirely upon a series of Irish, Swedish and German nurses. The\nthird boy, Bill, has a very intellectual mother, an ardent devotee of\nwoman's rights, and an active worker in various up-lift and educational\nmovements. She laid out a plan of mental development for him, in early\nchildhood, in accordance with the latest scientific books, but not\nhaving the time to attend to it herself, and having had constant rows\nwith her nurses, she has ended up by heaping the blame on the natural\nstupidity and stubbornness of the boy, which could only have been\ninherited from his father. The fourth boy, Hal, is the most up-to-date\nof all. His mother and father were both divorced and both remarried and\nboth have new families, for which his only feeling is mild resentment\nand disdain.\n\nThese boys are hardly to blame if, as a result of such home training,\nthe growth of their characters has already become tangled and somewhat\nover-run by the weeds of selfishness and calculation. If they were only\nmischievous, high-spirited and lacking in respect, the harm might not be\ngreat; but there is also a deficiency of the generous feelings of\nsympathy and affection, of moral standards, and of any abiding faith in\nwhat should be. Their bodies and their brains may be well developed; but\nnot their hearts and souls.\n\nThey may find it to their interest to display perfect discipline in the\nschool-room and receive high marks and commendation from their teachers;\nthey may also excel in the various games and win prizes on the athletic\nfield; but this in no way prevents them from setting an insidious\nexample to a less precocious companion.\n\nFor practical purposes, the point-of-view and controlling motives of\nthese four boys is in fairly complete accord. They think it is very\nsmart to do things which are against the rules; but they think it is\nvery stupid to get caught. They believe in using their wits to get the\nbest of other people--especially older people, like parents and\nteachers. They believe in practising concealment, dissimulation and\ninsincerity; but they are very wary of getting saddled with a downright\nlie. They have the utmost contempt for a \"tell-tale,\" and they include\nin this opprobrium any boy who hasn't sense enough to keep from older\npeople an inkling of any sort, as to what he himself may have been up\nto, as well as any others of the crowd. Nothing is half so bad as\nblabbing what you know--not even the risk of getting caught in a lie.\nThey laugh at scruples of conscience; and they place little dependence\non mother love, or father love, or any kind of love which isn't\nself-centered and decidedly material. They also have little use for\nhigh-flown sentiment, poetry, old-fashioned prejudices and pretences of\nromance; and if they do have time to read a book, they want it to be\nsomething up-to-date and exciting--a detective story, for instance, with\na master thief and vampires. In addition to this, they have a number of\nother precocious and undigested notions about a variety of things, which\nthey are ready to pass out confidentially, in almost any connection.\n\nAgain we repeat that it is not to be inferred that all the boys in any\nschool, or any great proportion of them, are necessarily of this sort.\nBut in almost any school, some of them are liable to be met with--more\nso to-day than ever, for reasons which have been amply explained. There\nis no way of telling, at school, what certain boys may be thinking and\nsaying and doing, when they are out of sight and hearing. If our boy,\nBob, is unfortunate enough to be thrown in close and constant contact\nwith that kind, it is unreasonable to imagine that he is at all to\nblame. His natural effort is to try and adapt himself to conditions as\nhe finds them; he sees and feels that he is but a tiny part of a big\nsystem, in which most matters are determined for him, by the system\nitself. Aside from which, his nature is very trusting and sensitive,\nrather shy at first, and totally without experience of this new and\nperplexing world.\n\nThe feelings and ideals which have been growing so tenderly in his\nlittle heart and soul are not robust enough to offer much resistance to\nrepeated and covert attacks. They are in as great a need as ever, of\nguidance and encouragement and nourishment and the sunlight of loving\nsympathy. The formation of character was proceeding in a beautiful and\npromising way, but it may not be safely assumed that the results are\ncomplete and permanent at such an early age--the customary age which\nmost parents accept for sending their children to school. And where, in\nthe chance companionship of school life, is a fitting substitute to be\nfound for the right kind of family influence and the devotion of mother\nlove?\n\nIt is sad to say it, but I have, in my own experience, known a number of\ncases, where the havoc caused in a promising character was directly\ntraceable to the influence and bad example of youthful associates.\n\nA practical, up-to-date mind might say complacently that such characters\nmust have been so weak that they would probably have gone that way,\nanyhow. But that is merely to close one's eyes to the understanding of a\nvital principle, the inner feelings of heart and soul which play such a\nlarge part in the formation of character, are subject to growth and\nalteration, like all other living things; and until they are given a\nfair chance to become strong, by development and exercise and proper\ncare, why should anything more than a relative weakness be expected of\nthem? If you abandon them too soon to blighting influences, there is\nalways danger of their being more or less spoiled.\n\nThe other side of the school question relates to the school-books and\nschool-rooms and the teaching of the teachers.\n\nWhen we stop and consider that the average little boy, or girl, between\nthe ages of six and fourteen, spends thousands upon thousands of hours,\nin a more or less dreary and distasteful and uninspiring way, over\nschool-books, in school and out, it might seem as if we had a right to\nask ourselves: Does the result justify the means? Does any one claim, or\nimagine, that school-books contain much nourishment for the heart and\nsoul, or the moral feelings, or love of beauty? Upon what grounds, does\nany one claim, or imagine, that such things are less important to the\ngrowth of character, and a cheerful disposition, and fine standards of\nconduct, than the training of the intellect? If we are perfectly\nsatisfied that the method employed to train the intellect does not and\nneed not interfere with a corresponding development of those other sides\nof human nature--that is one thing. But let us not be satisfied to take\nso much for granted, without giving it a little thought. That is the\nfirst point to get clear.\n\nAll those thousands of hours spent over school-books, in school-rooms,\nif they were not confined to that, might be devoted to other things.\nThat is obvious and inevitable. What kind of things? If they were\nallowed a freedom of choice, children would want to do the things that\ninterested them the most--things they felt like doing. And the natural\nfeelings of each growing individual would be the dominant factor in\nnearly all cases. The natural feelings of a little boy, or a little\ngirl, are nothing for any one to be ashamed of, or deplore, or wish to\nmake otherwise. They are part of the all-wise plan, designed more\nprofoundly and beautifully than any science of man can comprehend. And\nnothing is more natural than that a boy, or a girl, growing up in an\natmosphere of love and sympathy and kindness, and what is right and fair\nand admirable, should respond to those feelings, more and more, and grow\nto have them, too. Some selfish instincts have to be guided and\ncontrolled by deeper and better feelings and the exercise of reason, and\nthat is natural, too. And even the selfish instincts are just as natural\nand just as wisely planned as the deeper and better feelings, or the\nexercise of reason.\n\nIn the advanced stage of enlightenment at which we have arrived can any\nreasonable person fail to recognize this palpable truth? It is possible\nthat some people might be found who have happened to overlook it; but\nless easy to believe that they could fail to recognize it, when it is\ncalled to their attention.\n\nAny normal child delights in the exercise of all its faculties and\ninstincts and feelings--whether they be of the heart and the soul, or\nthe body and the brain. This is the natural method of their growth. And\nthe ideal individual would be one in whom all these sides had reached\ntheir fullest development, in a perfectly balanced whole.\n\nThe vast majority of things which interest children and which they\nnaturally like and seek to do are unconsciously in line with this\nendeavor. They all give exercise to some quality which is useful and\nproper to human nature. And the variety of interests which may act in\nthis way is so infinitely great, that children are seldom at a loss to\nfind something that appeals to them. Sometimes they need advice, or help\nfrom older people, but that, too, is as it should be.\n\nIf children, between six and fourteen, had at their disposal those\nthousands of hours which we have referred to, and did not have to bother\nwith school or school-books--what kind of use might they be expected to\nput them to?\n\nIt is not at all difficult to imagine. Play, in the first place, and\ngames--in the sunshine and open air. And if the sun isn't shining, on\nrainy days, more play and games--in the play-room, or about the house,\nor somewhere under shelter. Marbles and tops and kites; jumping rope,\nrolling hoops, making pin-wheels; skating, sledding, snow-balling;\nbaseball, fishing, tennis; leap-frog, running, climbing trees; and\ndozens of other pastimes, too numerous to think of. The very sound of\nthem is healthy and joyous and exhilarating and the general effect of\nthem on a growing nature is just as wholesome.\n\nBut this is not all, by any means--only one kind of thing, chiefly of\nvalue to the physical side of development--health and strength and\nvitality and cheerfulness.\n\nIn addition to this, there are many other interests of a different order\nwhich may appeal to youth very strongly. A collection of postage stamps,\nor birds' eggs, or picture cards, may become of absorbing interest to\nboys and girls, with time on their hands. These may encourage patience\nand perseverance and observation and enthusiasm, which are most\nadmirable as traits of character.\n\nA boy may become deeply absorbed in a set of carpenter's tools and the\nthings he can do with them. He can set his heart on making a pair of\nstilts, and a boat that will float and steer and sail, and tables and\nboxes and chests of drawers for his collections--all of which may\ndevelop skill and determination and an aspiration to fine\naccomplishment. And the interest so begun may lead to a bracket-saw and\ncarving tools, or a turning lathe, and the fashioning of more intricate\nand beautiful things.\n\nA boy, or a girl, may have a camera and learn to take pictures and\ndevelop them and print them, and encourage in this way the growth of\nfeelings and tastes and much useful knowledge--in addition to mental\ntraining.\n\nBoys and girls may set their hearts on building a beautiful snow\nfort--and work and slave and overcome obstacles--until they have given\nthemselves a fine lesson in industry, and the rewards of successful\naccomplishment.\n\nA boy may become interested in a printing press, or a steam engine, or\nan electric machine of some sort, and acquire by means of it, not only a\nlot of worthy satisfaction and pleasure, but the enthusiasm of deep,\nspontaneous feelings--in addition to useful information and mental\ntraining.\n\nA perfectly normal boy, without any special bent for music, or art, may\nwant to play on a drum, or a banjo--or to paint pictures with\nwater-colors--and through the effort devoted to this want, encourage the\ngrowth of tastes and feelings, which may prove of benefit and value, all\nthrough life.\n\nIf boys and girls are not occupied and tired by forced application to\nschool-books, there is hardly any limit to the number of things, to\nwhich they may turn their attention, with natural energy and enthusiasm,\nand frequently with great benefit to feelings and qualities which\ninvolve not only the body and the mind, but the heart and soul, as well.\n\nWe have named but a few of the activities to which those thousands of\nhours, now consumed by school-books and school-rooms, might be otherwise\ndevoted. Whether or not those things are more important to general\ndevelopment of character, they certainly cannot be indulged in to\nanything like the same extent, if so much time and energy is daily\nrequired for school education. When children are released from the\nschool-room, their heads and their nerves are fairly tired and their\nbodies longing for freedom. There is usually another period of study\nhanging over them, before bed-time; and although a certain number of\nhours are allowed them for recreation, that recreation is not apt to\ntake the form of heart-felt interests which put an added strain on\nnerves and head.\n\nWith this point-of-view in mind, it may prove worth while to illustrate\nby some concrete examples the kind of results that are liable to occur.\nAnd in choosing examples, this time, it will not be necessary to rely\nupon conjecture or imagination. It so happens that I may refer to some\nactual cases where boys and girls have not been obliged to go to school,\nor even to open a school-book, during all those thousands of hours.\nAnd, strangely enough, in spite of the forebodings and disapproval of\nmany intellectual people, who always feel it their duty to protest\nagainst such a procedure, the results in all the cases I have any\nknowledge of, were not disastrous at all, but very much the contrary.\n\nLet us begin with some girls--three sisters. Their parents were\nwell-born and well-educated, the father being a man of considerable\ndistinction and originality. From a position of comparative wealth, they\nwere reduced by business reverses, to relative poverty, and retired to a\nfarmhouse in an unsettled district. The mother was in delicate health,\nthe father under the need of trying to repair his fortunes, and there\nwas no school-house within reach. In addition to that, the father had\nvery little belief in current school methods, or the efficacy of school\nbooks. The result was that the three girls were allowed to go without\nany education of the prescribed kind; but an old man who happened to be\nliving nearby, with nothing to do, was prevailed upon to come every day\nand help along with their enlightenment in any way they desired, or he\nsaw fit. This old man had once had artistic tendencies, had tried his\nhand at various things, and was well-read and well-travelled. He soon\ntook a great interest in the three bright and charming girls, and came\nto regard himself in the light of a kindly, sympathetic companion--which\nis the next best thing to a mother, or a father.\n\nHe helped the girls with their flower garden, went walking with them in\nthe fields and answered as many of their questions as he could about\nflowers and planting and trees and shrubs and plants, birds, snakes and\nbees--anything and everything they showed an interest in.\n\nWhen it was raining, he played on the piano for them and showed them how\nto play little tunes for themselves--which they thought was great fun.\nHe could paint and draw very well and he brought them a box of water\ncolors and showed them how to color pictures and draw flowers and birds\nand simple things for themselves. He also got some clay and played with\nthem at modelling figures of various kinds.\n\nIn addition to that, he had one idea, which was a sort of hobby, and\nabout which he talked to them a lot. Every girl, as she grew up, as well\nas every boy and man, would be called upon, sooner or later, to write\nletters to people she cared about, and wanted those letters to be nice\nand interesting. Most people didn't know how to express their thoughts.\nSo every day, they sat down together, indoors or out, and each wrote a\nletter to an imaginary friend. Little by little, the letters became\neasier and longer and more interesting.\n\nFrequently he recited poetry that he knew by heart, and told them fairy\ntales, and stories of every description from the many books he had read.\n\nAnd so the thousands of hours were spent with simple natural interests,\nin a most enjoyable way, without a thought of school-books, or anything\ndistasteful, compulsory or confining.\n\nWhat, in this case, were some of the results? One was that the life of\ntheir inner feelings was developed to an unusual degree. Everything was\ndone to encourage them, and nothing to suppress, or distort them. The\nstories and poems made a constant appeal to their imagination, while the\ndaily letters which they wrote became a means of reflecting and applying\nthis appeal.\n\nA love of beautiful things was naturally developed in them, and they\nnaturally conceived a fondness for music and painting and modelling and\npoetry and story-telling. There was no pressure exerted upon them in any\nof these directions--merely the encouragement of spontaneous interest\nand the help of example.\n\nThese tastes and qualities, became the common possession of all three\ngirls. They could all write poetry and stories; they could all draw and\npaint and model and play tunes on the piano--with more or less feeling\nand facility--and they all grew up with remarkably sympathetic and\ngracious personalities--which became, later on, very widely admired and\ncommented upon.\n\nOne of the girls, the eldest, conceived a deeper liking than the others\nfor music. As time went on, she wanted to spend more and more time at\nthe piano--playing and practising and learning to read the notes.\n\nThe second girl, in a similar way, was more attracted to drawing and\nmodelling and painting. The youngest one, while the other two were thus\nengaged, liked to sit down with pencil and paper and amuse herself in\nwriting rhymes and stories.\n\nThe eldest daughter became a fine musician and composer of music, and a\nbrilliant career was in sight for her at the time of her death, which\noccurred when she was just out of her teens.\n\nThe second daughter, won for herself a distinguished place as a painter,\nin Paris and in this country.\n\nThe youngest one left to her own resources, a widow with a little son to\nsupport, achieved much wealth and fame as a literary celebrity, one of\nthe most admired of her generation.\n\nLet us now refer to some other cases, this time to boys, where the\nbringing-up happened to be accomplished without any aid, or\ninterference, of school-books or school-teaching. In some instances this\nprocedure was due to illness and delicate health on the part of the boy,\nwhich made fresh air and freedom from confinement seem more important\nthan the benefits of mental training. In other cases, the parents\ndeliberately believed and decided it was better for self-development and\nthe formation of character to dispense with what they considered the\ndisadvantages of school methods.\n\nAs long as a boy does not know how to read, and is not taught how, it is\nthe most natural thing in the world for him to want somebody to tell--or\nread--to him fairy-tales and verses and stories of every kind that he\ncan understand. And this want is sure to be supplied, when there are\nloving parents to watch out for it. It may be the mother, the nurse, the\nfather, or an aunt, or an uncle, who take turns at it.\n\nSooner or later, as a result of this, the child is very apt to feel a\ncuriosity and interest and ambition to learn how to read stories for\nhimself. In the absence of any forcing, the more he thinks about it, the\nmore his heart becomes set on it. He asks questions about letters and\nwords in books--surprises his mother by showing how he can print his\nown name, then her name and father's. Little by little, without\nanybody's teaching him, almost without any one's realizing it, he has\nlearned to read. This might not happen, of course, in an unsympathetic\natmosphere--if there were no story telling, and no story books lying\nabout, to bring the inspiration. But as far as my experience goes, it\nhas always happened, somewhere between the ages of eight and ten, if not\nbefore.\n\nOne boy I know, after learning to read for himself, in this way, in\nrummaging through the bookshelves, came upon a queer little book of\nExperimental Chemistry. It was very old and primitive and had curious\nwood-cut illustrations in it. It had long ago belonged to the boy's\ngrand-father. It was easy to read and told about simple experiments that\nany boy could try himself. The necessary ingredients for many of them\ncould be found at home, or be bought for a few cents at the drug-store.\nIt happened to arouse his interest.\n\nThe first experiment described how to take a little powdered sugar and\nmix it with a little powder obtained by crushing up a tablet of chlorate\nof potash--such as people put in their mouths for a sore throat. That\nwould make an explosive, as powerful as the powder used in guns. It\ncould be set off by dropping on it from an eye-dropper one drop of a\ncertain kind of acid, from the druggist's.\n\nThe boy procured the necessary things, then ran to his mother, and asked\nher if he might try the experiment. She responded to his enthusiasm and\nonly asked permission to stand by and look on. He dropped the acid on\nthe powder--and sure enough, the powder went off with a big flash.\nWonderful excitement and joy! The experiment had to be repeated again\nand again, for the amazement of the waitress and the cook--and\nespecially for father, as soon as he came home.\n\nThat was the beginning of a new interest. The boy kept the book by him\nand pored over it, and set his heart upon acquiring first one thing\nafter another, as they became necessary. As he accumulated bottles and\nglass tubes, and chemicals and apparatus, he made shelves and stands for\nthem with his carpenter tools.\n\nIn due time, he got other books on the same subject and became the\npossessor of a very practical little chemical laboratory, which was all\nof his very own making. At the age of twelve, he was thoroughly at home\nin dozens of complicated processes and experiments.\n\nThis was only one of the many interests which he had plenty of time to\nfollow, with the same sort of enthusiasm. At the age of fourteen, his\nlaboratory was a thing of the past, but for all that, years after, at\ncollege, among his various other achievements, he had no trouble in\nwinning a prize scholarship in chemistry.\n\nAnother boy, brought up in a similar way and having learned to read\nwithout teaching, first took a lively interest in automobiles. When the\nfamily car went wrong, he watched the repairs, asked questions, and was\nready to lend a helping hand. Many of the troubles on a modern car are\napt to be in connection with the electrical equipment--battery, lights,\nmagneto, timer, self-starter, etc. Sooner or later, a boy who takes an\ninterest, is apt to become more or less familiar with the principle of\nall these things, especially if his nerves and brain are not deadened by\nforced application. At any rate, this boy soon did. This led to an\ninterest in other electrical things--the ringing of bells and buzzers\nabout the house, and the installation of an electric motor which would\nrun the sewing machine, or a grindstone, or a little lathe. Then he got\nhold of a booklet about wireless telegraphy. There is something\nthrilling about the idea which appeals to the imagination--the receiving\nof mysterious messages from afar, through the air, and sending back from\nyour little instrument the far-flying answers.\n\nAt the age of twelve, this boy with the aid of a Japanese servant, had\nset up his own aerial and apparatus, had learned the code alphabet and\nwas thoroughly familiar with all the delicate intricacies of detector,\ntuning coil, sparker and the rest of it. He had gotten in touch with\ncertain other wireless operators within a radius of ten miles and,\nalthough he had never seen any of them, he could recognize instantly the\nsound of their different instruments and it was a joy and delight to\nhold conversations with them and call them up for a good-night, before\nhe went to bed. And before he was thirteen, he undertook to construct\nwith his own hands a tuning coil which would be better for his purposes\nthan the kind he could afford to buy at the store. After much determined\neffort, he succeeded and installed it and had the satisfaction of\nfinding that it was, indeed, decidedly better.\n\nAnother boy, who had never had to bother his head with school-books, but\nwho had also learned to read, in due time got started on a new interest\nby a printing-press, which was given to him for Christmas. He puzzled\nwith it and worked over it, until he learned to set up type and operate\nit very nicely. Then he began printing visiting cards--first for\nhimself, then mother and father, then the servants and friends. It was\ngreat fun to take orders from them and charge them ten cents a dozen,\nin a business-like way. Next he got a larger press and different kinds\nof type, and by dint of perseverance he found among the trades-people a\nfew kindly souls, who allowed him to print their business cards for them\nat so much a hundred.\n\nOut of this interest grew a more ambitious one. How fine it would be to\nprint and publish a little newspaper, with stories and verses and\nadvertisements and subscriptions and everything! This appealed to the\nimagination and became an absorbing ambition. In this particular case,\nthe newspaper project soon outdistanced the printing press. The\nnewspaper must be bigger and finer than a press of that kind could\npossibly manage. So the boy went to a regular printer and found out\nabout the cost and details of publishing such a paper as he had in mind.\nHe didn't have enough money of his own for that, but he figured out that\nby going again to the tradespeople and getting them to pay for\nadvertising in his paper and by making people pay for subscriptions to\nthe paper, the problem could be solved. He decided to limit the scope of\nhis enterprise to the publication of six numbers, one every month. He\nwent to different tradespeople with whom the family dealt, stated his\nintentions, and asked for advertisements at the rate of fifty cents a\nnumber. He was only twelve years old at the time and they naturally had\ndoubts about his ability to carry out the project; but some were found\nwith enough kindly sympathy to agree to pay him, when he brought them\nthe paper containing the advertisement. In the same way, among relatives\nand friends and neighbors, he sought subscriptions at the rate of five\ncents a copy and succeeded in obtaining a sufficient number for his\npurpose.\n\nHe chose a name for his paper by himself but, when it came to the\nquestion of the reading matter, he did not presume to attempt much of\nthat, at first, but felt he could do better by appealing to his mother\nand aunt and others for the kind of contributions he had in mind.\n\nHe carried out his project, to the letter,--six numbers, one a\nmonth--and at the end of it, he not only had the satisfaction of a fine\neffort well done, but he had also earned a clear profit of over fifteen\ndollars. Likewise, he had helped the growth of character, the taste for\nliterary achievement, the acquisition of much useful experience and\ninformation, and considerable mental training of an admirable sort.\n\nI might continue in this way, almost indefinitely, telling about the\ninterests and results which may come quite naturally to boys and girls\nfreed from the routine of school training.\n\nEnough has been said, however, to suggest food for thought. With a\nfeeling of interest, or enthusiasm, behind it, almost any kind of mental\nexercise, or physical exercise, takes on the color of gladness. Without\ninterest, or enthusiasm, almost any kind of compulsory effort becomes\ndrab and drear and irksome. The intellect can be a splendid friend to\nthe feelings--it can bring all sorts of suggestions to them, and point\nout their usefulness and their charm--but if, for some reason which may\nbe entirely intuitive and fundamental and all-wise, the feelings refuse\nto respond, or to cooeperate, any further compulsion is apt to prove\nfutile and unproductive of the right growth of character.\n\nThese are a few of the considerations which led to the remark, in\nconnection with our boy, Bob, that the question of schools and school\neducation is one of the most perplexing and troubling.\n\nNo loving mother is responsible for the existing school system, nor\ncould she alter it, if she wanted to. Even if she has a little pinch of\nthe heart at the thought of subjecting her sensitive boy to such an\nordeal, how can she dare to do otherwise? Among people of all classes,\nit is considered proper and necessary, for children to be sent to\nschool.\n\nBut provided a mother has a clear understanding that her child's\nfeelings and vitality are the most important things, it is always\npossible for her to seek some sort of a compromise in his favor. She can\ndelay the time of sending him away, until nine, or ten, or eleven. If he\ngoes to a private school, she can very often arrange matters so that he\nneed only attend the morning session, and never be \"kept in,\" after\nhours, for punishment. She can help him with the studies which he brings\nhome, and take great pains never to scold him, or show displeasure, or\ndisappointment, if he gets bad marks. She can explain to him that while\nit is only natural for a school-teacher to attach an exaggerated\nimportance to the training of the brain, mothers and fathers care a\ngreat deal more about deeper and finer interests and the right kind of\nconduct.\n\nThat is about all most mothers can do,--no matter how great their\nlove--as long as the present system remains in force. When, or how, it\nwill ever be changed radically, is something about which it would be\nfutile to express an opinion.\n\nAnother question which naturally arises in this connection has to do\nwith college and the very difficult entrance examinations which a modern\nboy is required to pass. How is he to do that, unless he is sent to\nschool in time to be prepared? Many mothers and fathers want their boys\nto have a college education.\n\nTo this objection, there is an easy and reassuring answer.\n\nEven if your boy has never seen the inside of a school-book, before the\nage of thirteen or fourteen, that need not prevent him from being\nprepared for college, just as well and at about the same time, as the\naverage boy who has been attending school from the age of five, or six.\n\nAll of the boys I have referred to, passed their examinations far better\nthan the average. All those thousands of hours which were devoted to\nother interests, entirely apart from school-books, did not have the\neffect of retarding the boys' mental development and training. It was\nonly a different kind of training, more in accordance with the methods\nof nature. When these boys arrived at the age of thirteen, they had more\ncharacter, more self-control, more determination and more mental\nequipment, than the vast majority of boys acquire at school. I think it\nis a fair presumption, that under favorable conditions, such a result\nmay be expected.\n\nIt was the college question that eventually brought these boys to\npreparatory schools, at the ages of thirteen, or fourteen. And in order\nto enter a preparatory school and get used to the ways of school-books,\nit may be necessary for the boy to do some preliminary studying, for a\nfew months, with some one to help him. But by that time, he has an\nobject in view, his interest is involved, and he will seldom require the\nslightest urging. Without exception, the boys I have referred to\nattained high rank, both in school and in college.\n\nThere remains one more thing to think about in connection with the\nbringing up of children. What about religion? Here is also a\nconsideration which can hardly be avoided.\n\nIf the parents are church-goers and still believe in the truth and\nteachings of the Bible,--that is one thing. In that case, all a mother\nhas to do is to encourage her children in the same belief, take them to\nchurch and Sunday School, and teach them to say their prayers from\nearliest childhood.\n\nBut there are also many parents, who no longer go to church and whose\nfaith in the traditional teachings has become very much shaken. Their\nnumbers have been increasing very rapidly, for reasons which we have\nreferred to, and are extremely likely to keep on increasing. Suppose a\nloving mother belongs to this class--what is best and wisest for her to\ndo with her son?\n\n\"Mother, where did I come from? And who made all these other people?\nWhat for?\"\n\nThose are simple and natural questions, which are apt to come fairly\nsoon in the growth of intelligence. They call for some sort of answer.\nIt is the first beginning of a soul feeling, a groping for a faith of\nsome sort in human destiny.\n\nWhat is to be mother's answer?\n\nIf she says she doesn't know--nobody does--that is very unsatisfactory\nand very troubling. The groping will still continue, with more and more\npersistency. If mother has a reason for refusing to tell, the\ninformation must be sought elsewhere. And it will very soon be\nforthcoming from some one--the nurse, or the cook, or the waitress. God\nmade the world--He lives in heaven--He rewards people if they are good,\nby making them angels; and if they are bad, He sends them to hell, to be\nroasted by the devil. The churches, which the child has seen, are where\npeople go to pray to God and worship Him.\n\nThis answers the question and is perfectly satisfactory, for the time\nbeing. But the attitude of mother is apt to give rise to suspicion that\nshe was only pretending, when she said she didn't know. If the nurse\nknows--and all the people who go to church, know--then mother must know,\ntoo. Perhaps mother, for reasons of her own, doesn't wish him to know\nyet, and would blame the nurse for telling him? Then the nurse would\nblame him. If mother chooses to conceal things from him, he can avoid\ntrouble by concealing things from mother. This implies a breach of\nconfidence between mother and son--which is not at all good for a\nforming character.\n\nIt is far better for mother to show a sympathetic understanding of the\nsoul need and respond to it accordingly. A child has no end of\nimagination, and feelings to correspond. It is the spirit and meaning of\nideas which signify, and not their material accuracy. Rhymes and jingles\nand mother goose and fairy tales and Santa Claus are all founded on an\nunderstanding of this. They supply in fanciful form a very real and\nnecessary food for the inner nature. In the same way, with this\nreligious groping, food that will satisfy must be given in some form.\n\nBut as a religious belief is something which it is hoped will last\nthrough life, it would seem best to clothe it, as far as possible, in\nideas that will not have to be discarded by the intellect, when that\nbecomes enlightened.\n\nNearly every mother believes that the world and all it contains were\ncreated, somehow, by an all-wise Being--and that this Being has an\neverlasting existence somewhere. The usual name for that Being, in the\nEnglish language, is God, and the unknown place where He dwells, is\nusually called heaven. That is something which may be told to any child;\nthe idea is easy to grasp, it responds to a fundamental need, and it can\nnever be disproved by any amount of science, or enlightenment.\n\nAs compared to God, mother and father and all people on the earth are\nlike little children, and each and every one is allowed to share in the\nbenefits of His love and wisdom. He wishes all his children to do what\nthey feel is right and fine, and fight against what is mean and wrong.\n\nIf some people have less money than others, and fewer material\npleasures, and in other ways seem less fortunate, that does not mean\nthat they are less worthy of love and consideration. Nor does it mean\nthat they are less fine, or necessarily less fortunate. The highest kind\nof satisfaction in life comes almost entirely from being true to your\nown generous feelings and doing the best you can under any and all\ncircumstances. A poor little cripple may have this satisfaction, just as\nwell as a rich man's son. It is very possible that the little cripple's\nspirit and his life on earth, will count for more in the eternal scheme,\nthan the rich man's son. Material pleasures are perfectly natural and\nright and desirable; but they are only one part of life. A mother who\nhas a beautiful boy and loves him with her whole heart and soul, has a\nmore precious treasure than all the money in the world can buy.\n\nThose are also religious beliefs which may be told to any boy, or girl,\nand allowed to take root and grow, for all time. They are the expression\nof fundamental feelings which no amount of science can disprove, or\ndeny.\n\nAs regards the question of spoken prayers, we come upon considerations\nof a slightly different order. The idea of spoken prayer and the spirit\nwhich underlies it are beautiful and inspiring. The soul of an\nindividual to be in direct, personal communication with the all-wise\nCreator--how thrilling and sublime! It would seem almost the deepest and\ndearest wish that mortal man could have. It is also an idea which a\nchild can readily grasp and believe and put into practise.\n\nBut certain mothers and fathers, whom I have heard talk on this subject,\nfind themselves confronted by scruples and objections which are entirely\nsincere and conscientious. While admitting the beauty of the idea, they\npoint to the fact that they themselves no longer believe in it, or\npractise it. To their minds, it has become no more than the survival of\na superstition, which is no longer tenable. Under such circumstances,\nthey can see no justification for imposing it upon the credulity of\ntheir children.\n\nOne answer to such an objection is that it is always possible for the\nreason to be at fault in matters which involve the unknown. Aside from\nthat, there are many worse things for children than the survival of a\nbeautiful superstition. The same scruples might be applied, without any\nelement of doubt, to the idea of Santa Claus; but the spirit of that\nbelief, while it lasts, is so joyful, and its influence so benign, that\nit would take an extremely dry heart and an excessive rule of reason to\ndesire its abolition.\n\n\nCONJECTURE\n\nAnd now, at last, we have reached a point, where, in thinking of the\nfuture and the hope for coming generations, we may turn our gaze in a\nnew direction and enter the realm of conjecture and prophecy.\n\nThere is an old saying that \"Coming events cast their shadows before.\"\nIf we let our thoughts dwell on the confused shadows which appear to be\nhanging over the spirit of our present civilization, it is possible to\nimagine that we can see in them the outlines of a coming event of the\nmost profound importance. This would be neither more, nor less, than the\nbirth of a new religion--or what amounts to the same thing, a new form\nof religious belief.\n\nWhat grounds are there for imagining such an absurdity? It is only a\nconjecture--it could not be anything else--but for all that, it is not\nnecessarily an absurdity.\n\nThe conflict which is going on between the old traditional beliefs and\nthe advanced spirit of enlightenment has in it elements of\ncontradiction, too deep and too radical, to permit of a complete victory\non the part of either. If the struggle were to continue indefinitely, on\nthe present lines, it seems inevitable that countless numbers must be\nfound, on one extreme, who would never be willing to abandon their\nfaith; and, on the other extreme, would be countless numbers who could\nnever consent to a return to what they consider disproved and antiquated\nsuperstitions. And somewhere between these two, will be a constantly\nincreasing mass of others, pushed and pulled in opposite directions,\nhalf-pretending agreement with both sides, but without real loyalty to\neither, trying in a more or less troubled way, to remain non-committal,\nand arriving at a state of indifference, drifting along, without\nleadership, or conviction.\n\nIf we may believe the testimony of observers in England, this condition\nof affairs is already quite plainly indicated there--as much or more,\nas it is in this country.\n\nSuch a situation is well nigh intolerable to humanity. The palpable\nresults of it can hardly fail to be disheartening to any normal being.\nAnd out of this disheartenment will inevitably come a yearning, more or\nless unconscious, but more and more appealing, for something different\nand something better, a yearning for true and unquestionable leadership,\nwhich can inflame the imagination, inspire new faith, and command\nwhole-souled devotion, as it points the way.\n\nIn the mysterious scheme of the universe, in the all-wise design, when\nsuch a yearning becomes intense enough and widespread enough, I cannot\nbut believe that somehow, somewhere, out of a tenement, or out of a\npalace, or out of the wilderness, will come the appointed leader. This\nis the fateful event of my conjecture, which I imagine is casting its\nshadow before, and which may bring a renewal of light and enthusiasm to\nmillions of troubled souls.\n\nIt may not come for a generation, or it may not come in a century, or it\nmay be close at hand. What the particular form and force of the new\ninspiration will be like, is beyond the scope of the imagination.\n\nBut it is not so difficult to hazard a prophecy in regard to its\nessence. There will be no claim, or creed, of any kind, to which\nscientific information, or enlightened reason, can ever find ground to\ntake exception. It will not belittle admiration for the human body, or\nthe human brain, or even of pleasures and desires which may be purely\nmaterial; but, on the contrary, will encourage the development of them\nall, as a relatively important part of the all-wise design. Above and\nbeyond these, will be a deeper and greater appeal to the most generous\nand noble intuitions of the heart and soul. There will be very little\nconsideration for punishments, or rewards, or threats, or anger,--to\nforce the human soul into submission of any kind; but there will be\nimmense consideration for love of others and love of right, individual\nresponsibility and self-control. Pervading and illuminating all, will be\na blessed faith in the beauty and wisdom and purpose of the eternal\nmystery.\n\nAnd whenever, or wherever, this kind of ideal comes, and rings out\nthrough the land, with compelling inspiration, I venture the prophecy\nthat the prevailing spirit of civilization will be ripe and ready to\nreceive it with open arms.\n\n\n\n\nAPPENDIX\n\n_Los Angeles Times_, Feb. 8, 1921.\n\nCRIMINAL IMPROPRIETY\n\n\nWe had supposed that the decadence obvious in the sartorial modes for\nsociety women reached its limit last year and that a saner and more\ndecent sense of propriety would evince itself in the revulsion of public\ntaste. But the tendency to bizarre indecency has increased so that now\nwe are offered in our public ballrooms the spectacle of criminal\nimpropriety--of women's bare legs with painted knees, of naked backs and\nlewdly veiled bosoms, of transparent skirts and suggestive nudity, of\ndecorated flesh and vulgar exposure generally--the sort of thing that\nhas ever preceded the downfall of civilizations. It has no relation\nwhatever to the nudity of innocence, as is perfectly obvious with one\nglance at the type of dancing women that affects these disgusting\nextremes, for their whole deportment is entirely in accord with their\nscant covering and nastily conceived exposures. They are brazenly\ninviting a certain kind of attention and they get only the sort of\nattention they invite. They are degrading all womanhood with their\nshamelessness, at a time when the more worthy of their sex have striven\nto win and deserve to win that respect which should rightfully be\ntheirs.\n\nThe people are all overwhelmed by the appalling crime wave that has\nbeset the world--not only by murders, robberies and hold-ups, but by the\nghastly increase in marital unfaithfulness which clogs the divorce\ncourts; and the attacks against women and girls which have become a\ndaily department of the news. The incredible and loathsome conditions\ncannot be overstated. They are widespread, staggering in their\nviciousness. And we unhesitatingly declare that the preposterous\nvulgarity and criminal impropriety of that vastly increasing number of\nwomen who adopt these indecent modes for \"party gowns\" is, if not\nresponsible for the dirty conditions, at least a large and important\nfactor. And it is deplorable that, as the extremists jump from extreme\nto extreme, the presumably decent women follow. They are slower to adopt\nthe full measure of indecency, but each season finds them\n\"conservatively\" following at a respectful distance, so that the modes\nfor decent women to-day were the extremes of indecency a few short\nseasons back.\n\nWhy do they do it? It is a poor explanation to declare that they thus\nbecome more attractive to men. If they are honest with themselves, they\nknow very well that the sort of attraction thus engendered makes the\nlowest possible appeal. If they are honest with themselves, they know\nvery well that masculine taste in such matters is absolutely in the\nhands of women, that the standard they set is the standard which will\ninevitably be adopted. It has been said that every country gets the\nwomen it deserves, but rather would we say that every woman gets the\nsort of attention she deserves. Intelligent women know this, no matter\nwhat their argument to the contrary.\n\nBut the women, who are going to these disgusting and revolting extremes,\nare not intelligent. Man may be vile, but he also has perception.\nObserve the women in any public ballroom to-day--those who expose the\nmost have the least worthy of exposure. These lewd revelations are\ncertainly not in the cause of beauty. It is the fat and podgy, or the\nlean and bony, female, for the most part, one who has neither natural\nphysical nor mental attraction, that resorts to this means of commanding\nattention. She makes one appeal, and only one, and that to the very\nlowest instincts of masculine human nature. No matter how she may\ndeceive herself to the contrary, she is deliberately catering to the\nanimal passion of men. Beautiful and charming women of mind and\ncharacter do not feel this urge to trade upon their \"private charms.\"\nBut the unintelligent and dubious female is invariably the one to make a\nbid for the only sort of attention she can hope to inspire.\n\nTheodore Maynard, now lecturing before the women's clubs upon the\n\"Imminent Break-up of Civilization,\" defines civilization as that\ncondition of a people founded upon justice and honor. It is not a\nquestion of brilliant inventions, of motor cars, telephones, magnificent\nhotels, luxury and comfort. It is essentially a state of refinement,\nculture and honor.\n\n\"I could not love thee, dear, so well, loved I not honor more.\"\n\nThat honor which is the very basis of civilization is essentially\nchaste. And civilized women must be the essential guardians of chastity\nand honor. Where women cater to the dishonorable and unchaste, there can\nbe no civilization, no sanctity of the home, which should be the very\ncitadel of honor.\n\nAdam in Eden whined that Eve had demoralized him. Eve to-day whines that\nAdam and his war have demoralized her. They are both wrong and both\nculpable. And as in the old biblical story, God will hold both Adam and\nEve responsible and both shall be driven from the Garden of Eden, our\ngreat modern civilization that is gaining all save honor, that keystone\nof the arch without which it must fall to ruin.\n\nAnd the modern unchastity of women's clothes, the crude, lewd, wholly\nindefensible appeal to man's lowest instincts, the deliberate trading on\nthe unclean and the lustful side of human nature, is, we repeat, a basic\ncause of that widespread dishonor and crime that are polluting\ncivilization to-day. Surely there are enough decent, intelligent,\nnoble-minded women left to halt this mad craze for criminal impropriety.\nSurely they can and will take the lead for purity, decency and honor,\nrather than be content to follow at long distance that road which leads\nto nothing but degradation for all humanity. Women and only women, can\nhalt this mad delirium--this hideous craving for attention at any cost,\nat all cost. Where can it end, except in utter degradation, not only for\ntheir own sex, but for their husbands and their sons?\n\nThis utter debasement of that precious heritage called \"love\" is the\nbitterest possible reflection upon our modern civilization. The sort of\nattraction these unchaste, nakedly adorned, women \"of fashion\" hold out\ncan never inspire that precious, priceless thing which \"passeth all\nunderstanding,\" which survives all the travail of tribulation, that\nbeautiful emotion that \"age cannot wither nor custom stale,\" which\nradiates the dark places with shining light.\n\n    \"Oh, woman, lovely woman! nature made thee\n    To temper man; we had been brutes without you;\n    There's in you all that we believe of heaven\n    Amazing brightness, purity and truth,\n    Eternal joy and everlasting love.\"\n\n\n_Los Angeles Times_, Dec. 17, 1920.\n\nThe financial and business summary for December, issued by the Citizens'\nNational Bank, will be circulated to-day. This careful review of general\nconditions classes business as unsatisfactory from the standpoint of\ncurrent activity, but hastens to explain that data supporting this\nconclusion is on the surface, and then, arguing from the human\nstandpoint, says that there is greater need just now that we determine\nwhen the tendency to cancel contracts, and otherwise strike the element\nof integrity from our business relations, will cease, than there is that\nwe know when commodity prices will reach the bottom.\n\n\"To-day,\" the summary continues, \"we are registering a very low point of\ncommercial morality, and as we approach the portals of a new year, a\nyear full of promise and plenty, there is a great need of a full\nindividual sense of our personal relations to one another.\n\n\"It is not a struggling that is tearing apart the commercial, social and\nhome circles of to-day; instead, it is the lack of struggle, a missing\nambition to stamp out the measure of selfishness that has been permitted\nto breed in the human consciousness. Our growth during the coming years,\nboth as individual business concerns, as a nation, and as a race, will\nbe in a direct ratio to our re-establishment of individual and mass\nintegrity.\n\n\"The weakness of the bond market is merely an affair of permanence. It\nseems to be purely a seller's market with the cause of the selling\ntemporarily prohibitive to reinvestment. The income tax has caused a new\nseasonal liquidation period to be written into the category of\ninvestment influences so that the present bond market, though definitely\nin a major trend upward, still hangs down around bargain levels.\n\n\"Possibly some sympathetic bear influence is reflected into the present\nbond market through the sharp breaks in the stock market, yet whatever\nmay be the cause of present low bond prices and dull activity, it is\ncertain that the underlying fundamentals in control of the investment\nsituation are favorable to a long swing upward, with the course to\nhigher levels graded and fit for rapid travel when the turn of the year\nre-energizes the sinews of finance.\"\n\n       *        *       *       *       *\n\nThe protest against the present \"blue-laws\" is strong and the laws under\nfire are branded as the limit of legislative meddling, but here are some\nof the old laws that were really blue:\n\nThese laws once were in force in Connecticut:\n\nNo one shall run on the Sabbath day, or walk in his garden or elsewhere,\nexcept reverently to and from meeting.\n\nNo one shall travel, cook victuals, make beds, sweep house, cut hair, or\nshave on the Sabbath day.\n\nNo woman shall kiss her child on the Sabbath or fasting day.\n\nThe Sabbath shall begin at sunset on Saturday.\n\nWhoever brings cards or dice into this dominion shall pay a fine of five\npounds.\n\nNo one shall read common prayer, keep Christmas or Saints' days, make\nmince pies, dance, play cards or play on any instrument of music except\nthe drum, trumpet and Jew's harp.\n\nNo gospel minister shall join people in marriage; the magistrates only\nshall join in marriage, as they may do it with less scandal to Christ's\nchurch.\n\nA man that strikes his wife shall pay a fine of ten pounds; a woman that\nstrikes her husband shall be punished as the court directs.\n\nA wife shall be deemed good evidence against her husband.\n\nNo man shall court a maid in person, or by letter, without first\nobtaining consent of her parents; five pounds penalty for the first\noffense to imprisonment for the third offense.\n\nMarried persons must live together or be imprisoned.\n\nEvery male person shall have his hair cut round according to a cap.\n\nA child over sixteen years old who strikes his father shall be put to\ndeath.\n\nA child over sixteen years old who is stubborn and rebellious shall be\nput to death.\n\nWhoever, professing the Christian religion, shall wittingly deny the\nSong of Solomon to be the infallible word of God, may be whipped forty\nlashes and fined fifty pounds.\n\nWhoever marries two wives or more shall be executed.\n\nSaying that the Christian religion is a politic device to keep ignorant\nmen in awe shall be punished with death.\n\nAny man who uses tobacco in the street shall be fined, or if he do so in\nhis own house, a stranger being present, he shall be fined, but if on a\njourney, five miles from any house, he may smoke.\n\nAny single person without a servant, wishing to keep house by himself,\nmust get the consent of the selectmen unless he be a public officer.\n\nPersons not proved guilty, but lying under a strong suspicion of guilt,\nmay be punished, though not so severely as would be the case had they\nbeen convicted.\n\nEvery family must have a Bible, catechism and other good books.\n\n\n_Los Angeles Times_, Feb. 5, 1921.\n\nCROOKED MINDS\n\nThe prompt detection and punishment of the two kidnappers, who were\nfools enough to believe that they could carry out a melodramatic\nabduction and get away with it, is a satisfaction to the public. But it\ndoes not remove the possibility of similar crimes, attempted and perhaps\nexecuted, by the large class of individuals who, like the Carrs, have\ncrooked minds--minds that see only glamour and excitement in the life of\na criminal, that are willing to take any chance and gamble with their\nown lives and liberty as the stakes, for revenge or merely to get money\nto satisfy their physical demands.\n\nTen years, more or less, spent in the penitentiary is not likely to\nstraighten out the false conceptions of such men. The Carrs will\nprobably leave the prison with criminal tendencies strengthened by the\nassociations and repressions of penitentiary life.\n\nIt is just that such criminals should be put where they cannot prey upon\nsociety. But, while we are dealing out due punishment, the main effort\nof the social body should be put into the prevention of crime. We are\ntalking greatly, just now, of the world-wave of crime following the war.\nTomes are being written concerning its causes and its cures. But the\nprimary cause of all crime is the lack of true comprehension of the\nmeaning of life--a distorted viewpoint--a crooked mind.\n\nThe causes of such minds are many: heredity, environment, associations,\nlack of proper self-control and understanding; they can all be summed\nup, however, as the lack of moral sense in the individual and in the\nrace. The guiding star of existence, the conscience, in such cases, has\nceased to function; the goal ahead, a future existence, has been lost\nsight of. Souls are adrift. Here is the secret of the unrest, the crime,\nthe upheaval of to-day.\n\nThe old forms of religion, with their rituals and professions, have lost\ntheir hold upon a large portion of humanity. The newer and clearer\nconceptions of the great truths that are the basis of all religion have\nnot, as yet, taken the place of the old beliefs in the minds and lives\nof the majority. The people of the world are to-day at sea, with no\ndefinite port ahead, with no guiding hand upon the helm of their ship.\n\nIn the chaos of this rudderless age state and church are making\ndesperate efforts to palliate the evils of nonreligion and its\nconsequence, non-morality. In our own country we are multiplying\nstate-provided nurseries, schools, playgrounds, gymnasiums, colleges and\nhundreds of other substitutes for the homes and the home training that\nfails under the strenuous tests of present-day life. We are enormously\nattempting to train bodies and brains from the cradle to full\ncitizenship. But with all our provisions and equipment we are failing to\ntouch the real keystone of all character--the spiritual nature of man.\nWe are teaching morality because it is morality, proved by experience to\nbe expedient, on the whole, for a satisfactory career on the earth. But\nour schools and our churches, also, are failing to teach the highest\nsecret of life--the self-control of mind and body through willed\nrighteousness, based upon a knowledge and comprehension of a God-created\nand governed universe.\n\nNor do our schools and colleges train their pupils to an understanding\nof their own mental powers and the development of right will, of sound\nreason, of controlled and regulated action. We flood our children and\nyouth with equipment, with teachers, with opportunity for learning\nthings from the outside; yet our educational training is failing, as a\nwhole, in giving to the youth of this country the one essential thing\nfor right living--a true and high ideal and the strength of will to\nattain it.\n\nMen like the two just sent away; women like Mrs. Peete (whether she be\nguilty of murder or not) are the products of a generation that has torn\nitself away from its old anchors of religion, of duty and responsibility\nand has not yet set up a new standard to true its conduct. State and\nchurch, with all their will to do and their efforts and expenditure of\nmeans, can never take the place of right-minded parents and homes where\nchildren are taught by example and by word their true relations to God\nand to their fellow-men. Crooked minds can only be prevented by heritage\nfrom men and women, who understand their responsibility to God and to\ntheir country, and who start their sons and daughters out upon the\njourney of life with a chance, at least, for decency and uprightness.\n\n\n_New York Tribune_, April 22, 1921.\n\nMACAULAY ON AMERICA\n\n_\"Your Constitution Is All Sail and No Anchor\"_\n\n_The subjoined letter from the historian Macaulay to Henry S. Randall,\nof Cortland, N.Y., is taken from an old file of The Cortland Standard.\nIt was published originally in Harper's Magazine._\n\n  Holly Lodge, Kensington,\n  London, May 23, 1857.\n\nDear Sir: The four volumes of the Colonial History of New York reached\nme safely. I assure you that I shall value them highly. They contain\nmuch to interest an English as well as an American reader. Pray accept\nmy thanks and convey them to the Regents of the University.\n\nYou are surprised to learn that I have not a high opinion of Mr.\nJefferson, and I am surprised at your surprise. I am certain that I\nnever wrote a line, and that I never, in Parliament, in conversation, or\neven on the hustings--a place where it is the fashion to court the\npopulace--uttered a word indicating an opinion that the supreme\nauthority in a state ought to be intrusted to the majority of citizens\ntold by the head; in other words, to the poorest and most ignorant part\nof society.\n\nI have long been convinced that institutions purely democratic must,\nsooner or later, destroy liberty or civilization or both. In Europe,\nwhere the population is dense, the effect of such institutions would be\nalmost instantaneous. What happened lately in France is an example. In\n1848 a pure democracy was established there. During a short time there\nwas reason to expect a general spoliation, a national bankruptcy, a new\npartition of the soil, a maximum of prices, a ruinous load of taxation\nlaid on the rich for the purpose of supporting the poor in idleness.\n\nSuch a system would, in twenty years, have made France as poor and\nbarbarous as the France of the Carlovingians. Happily the danger was\naverted; and now there is a despotism, a silent tribune, an enslaved\npress. Liberty is gone, but civilization has been saved.\n\nI have not the smallest doubt that if we had a purely democratic\ngovernment here the effect would be the same. Either the poor would\nplunder the rich and civilization would perish, or order and prosperity\nwould be saved by a strong military government, and liberty would\nperish.\n\nYou may think that your country enjoys an exemption from these evils. I\nwill frankly own to you that I am of a very different opinion. Your fate\nI believe to be certain, though it is deferred by a physical cause. As\nlong as you have a boundless extent of fertile and unoccupied land your\nlaboring population will be far more at ease than the laboring\npopulation of the Old World, and while that is the case the Jeffersonian\npolitics may continue to exist without causing any fatal calamity.\n\nBut the time will come when New England will be as thickly peopled as\nold England. Wages will be as low and will fluctuate as much with you as\nwith us. You will have your Manchesters and Birminghams, and in those\nManchesters and Birminghams hundreds of thousands of artisans will\nassuredly be sometimes out of work. Then your institutions will be\nfairly brought to the test. Distress everywhere makes the laborer\nmutinous and discontented, and inclines him to listen with eagerness to\nagitators who tell him that it is a monstrous iniquity that one man\nshould have a million while another cannot get a full meal.\n\nIn bad years there is plenty of grumbling here, and sometimes a little\nrioting. But it matters little. For here the sufferers are not the\nrulers. The supreme power is in the hands of a class, numerous indeed,\nbut select; of an educated class; of a class which is, and knows itself\nto be, deeply interested in the security of property and the maintenance\nof order. Accordingly, the malcontents are firmly yet gently restrained.\nThe bad time is got over without robbing the wealthy to relieve the\nindigent. The springs of national prosperity soon begin to flow again;\nwork is plentiful, wages rise and all is tranquillity and cheerfulness.\nI have seen England pass three or four times through such critical\nseasons as I have described.\n\nThrough such seasons the United States will have to pass in the course\nof the next century, if not this. How will you pass through them? I\nheartily wish you a good deliverance. But my reason and my wishes are at\nwar and I cannot help foreboding the worst. It is quite plan that your\ngovernment will never be able to restrain a distressed and discontented\nmajority. For with you the majority is the government, and has the rich,\nwho are always a minority, absolutely at its mercy.\n\nThe day will come when in the State of New York a multitude of people,\nnone of whom has had more than half a breakfast, or expects to have more\nthan half a dinner, will choose a legislature. Is it possible to doubt\nwhat sort of a legislature will be chosen? On one side is a statesman\npreaching patience, respect for vested rights, strict observance of\npublic faith. On the other is a demagogue ranting about the tyranny of\ncapitalists and usurers and asking why anybody should be permitted to\ndrink champagne and to ride in a carriage while thousands of honest\nfolks are in want of necessaries. Which of the two candidates are likely\nto be preferred by a workingman who hears his children cry for more\nbread?\n\nI seriously apprehend that you will, in some such seasons of adversity\nas I have described, do things which will prevent prosperity from\nreturning; that you will act like people who should in a year of\nscarcity devour all the seed corn and thus make the next year not of\nscarcity, but of absolute famine. There will be, I fear, spoliation. The\nspoliation will increase the distress. The distress will produce fresh\nspoliation.\n\nThere is nothing to stop you. Your Constitution is all sail and no\nanchor. As I said before, when a society has entered on this downward\nprogress, either civilization or liberty must perish. Either some Caesar\nor Napoleon will seize the reins of government with a strong hand, or\nyour republic will be as fearfully plundered and laid waste by\nbarbarians in the twentieth century as the Roman Empire was in the\nfifth, with this difference, that the Huns and vandals who ravaged the\nRoman Empire came from without, and that your Huns and vandals will have\nbeen engendered within your own country by your own institutions.\n\nI have the honor to be, dear sir, your faithful servant, T.B. Macaulay.\n\nH.S. Randall, Esq., etc., etc., etc.\n\n\nA FOOL'S PARADISE\n\nRadical propagandists, with a sublime disregard for facts and history,\npersist in extolling the tenets of Russian Communism as new discoveries\nin the art of government. They assert that the Bolshevists have solved\nfor the first time in history the problem of social equality. They say\nthe experiment of the \"dictatorship of the proletariat\" has never before\nbeen attempted and that it fails to find favor outside Russia because\npeoples are always prone to condemn what they do not understand.\n\nRussia, however, is but the last of many countries to rebel against its\nown prosperity. During the twenty years preceding the World War Russia\nenjoyed the greatest growth and development, both of its resources and\neducation, in the history of the country. Two-thirds of the agricultural\nland in the nation was owned and occupied by the farming classes, which\ncomprised nearly three-fourths of the population. In ten years the\nnumber of depositors in the savings banks of Russia had doubled and the\ngross amount of the deposits had quadrupled.\n\nThen came the war, to be followed by Bolshevism. The experience of\nRussia in the last two years, however, is not unique in the history of\nnations. The narration of the spoliation of the rich, the confiscation\nof the estates and the profligate waste of the national substance is\nonly a repetition, almost verse for verse and line for line, of the\nlicense and the abuses of the last years of the Athenian democracy. It\nwas then demonstrated that the impoverishing of the rich could not\nenrich the poor, and that a state without wealth will soon be a state\nwithout liberty. In the idiom of the gallery gods, it is all \"old\nstuff.\"\n\nThe Charmides of Xenophon's \"Banquet\" celebrates the pleasures and\nprofits of poverty. He once possessed a fortune that made him fear\nthieves and sycophants--in reality the same thing--Athens had levied\nheavy taxes on the rich and had passed laws making it a capital offense\nfor a person of wealth to attempt to flee the state. The money raised by\nthus taxing the wealthy was distributed to the poor in the public\nplaces. Any one holding a certificate showing that he had not sufficient\nwealth to be taxed was admitted free to the theaters and was entitled to\none meal a day at restaurants supported by the state.\n\nThe people's council, fearful that there might be a disposition to stop\nthis waste of public money, passed acts which decreed capital punishment\nto any orator who should propose to modify the laws which made \"poverty\na blessing.\"\n\nCharmides recounts that he once lived in a state of perpetual terror.\nNew taxes were decreed every day, each of which he was compelled to pay.\nHe was deprived of the liberty even of leaving the state. His lot was\nworse than that of the meanest slave.\n\nBehold! a fertile imagination came to his rescue. He embarked in a\nspeculation in which failure was inevitable. Good fortune attended him.\nWithin a brief time he was penniless and happy. The unfortunate\nspeculator who had gained possession of the wealth of Charmides lived\nfor a brief time in the agony of wealth; then he attempted to flee the\nstate, was apprehended and executed.\n\nCharmides makes votive offerings to the gods of Athens for his escape\nfrom the terror and servitude of property. \"How comfortably I sleep!\" he\ncries. \"The republic has confidence in me. I am no longer threatened. It\nis I who threaten others. A free man, I can go or stay. I appear at the\ntheater. I am admitted free. The rich rise in trembling and offer me the\nbest seats. When I walk abroad in the streets they stand aside to offer\nme an unobstructed passage. To-day I resemble a tyrant. Then I was a\nslave. Then I paid tribute to the state. Now the state, my tributary,\nsupports me. I lose nothing; for I have nothing.\"\n\nFor a time democratic Athens was a veritable Bolshevist paradise. But\nwhen the ranks of the rich became depleted, when none cared longer to\nengage in any profitable industry, the public revenue fell until there\nwas no money to support the happy idlers. The rich were tortured in the\nvain hope that they would produce hidden treasure; but the public\ntreasury remained empty.\n\nThis period of riotous profligacy followed the happy conclusion for\nAthens of the Theban war. When the Athenian proletariat discovered that\nthe state was about to pass under the yoke of Philip they hunted down\nthe remnant of the wealthy class that still remained, executed some,\nbanished others and sold still others into slavery for \"betraying the\nAthenian state and leaving it helpless before its enemies.\"\n\nShortly afterwards Athens came under the despotism of Philip, who\nspeedily conscripted this proletariat for forced labor. For a hundred\nyears afterwards, however, Athenian writers in bewailing their loss of\nliberty blamed the fall of Athens upon the \"rich,\" who failed to arm\nand equip a force to fight Philip.\n\nAll the wisdom of her philosophers, all the art and learning whose loss\nthe world still mourns, fell before the onslaught of this triumphant\ndemocracy. The culture of the few could not prevail against the greed of\nthe many. Domestic conditions became so intolerable that a majority of\nthe Athenians welcomed the stern but salutary rule of the tyrant. For\nthey had learned that the tyranny of a despot is easier to be borne than\nthat of universal poverty.\n\nOne does not have to interrogate the future to learn whither Russia\nunder Bolshevism is tending; one has but to look to the past. Like\ncauses cannot produce unlike effects. Under given conditions national\neclipses can be predicted as surely as the eclipses of the planets.\n\n\n_Los Angeles Times_, May 4, 1921.\n\nNAPOLEON'S CENTENNIAL\n\nThe hundredth anniversary of the passing of Napoleon centers attention\nanew on one of the baffling figures of all time--a man at once\nattractive and repulsive; a soldier of infinite courage who on at least\none occasion acted the coward; a master strategist who, to the last,\nseemed never to fully grasp that strategy by which he almost recast a\nworld.\n\nHe found Europe feudal and left it modern. He opened up new realms of\nknowledge to the servants; revolutionized military tactics; founded\nlasting industries; gave a new birth to French law; mocked and yet\nfostered freedom.\n\nMore volumes have been written regarding him than any other character in\nhistory--one excepted. Nevertheless, he still remains the most elusive,\nthe most unsatisfying genius that the world has ever known.\n\nHis accomplishments have by this time been fully set forth and properly\nvalued. We know that he stands practically alone as the greatest\nstrategist of the ages. Cromwell, on a smaller scale and within a far\nmore limited sphere, more nearly approaches him, perhaps, than does any\nother.\n\nWe know also that he was an adroit politician and a statesman on a scale\nrarely equalled in Europe. He was also an orator and an adept at coining\nphrases. He was an executive of immense power and a man of tremendous\npersonal charm.\n\nOf course, he was relentless, cruel, unscrupulous and all the rest of\nit, as we have been so often told. But, praise and blame aside, the\nquestion of the source of his power still remains the important thing.\n\nCertainly he was not great because he was a brilliant student, for, all\nin all, he was not deeply read. It could hardly be claimed that he was\nof the electric, assimilative type, for he would listen to no one and\nheld opinions of others in contempt. He was not even a strong reasoner\nas the term is generally used.\n\nWherein, then, lay that genius which makes him the outstanding Frenchman\nand one of the supreme personages of history? Apparently he was\npre-eminent because, more than almost any man who ever lived, he had the\npower of harnessing his intuitive processes to his practical problems.\n\nHe, it seems, was able to tap that vast, hidden and unsung reservoir of\nknowledge which is the epitome of all that the human mind has grasped\nand which, though flowing through the subconscious mind of all, is\navailable in its entirety to but few--and then in all too brief flashes.\n\nThe theory of the quality of the human mind, with its every-day, jerky\nreasoning powers and its submerged, smooth intuitions, finds its\nstrongest support in such an individual.\n\nThe subliminal mind, psychologists tell us, reaches out into daily life\nwhen the normal intelligence is in abeyance--as in sleep or profound\nrelaxation. This subliminal (below the threshold) mind is swifter than\nthe conscious mind and over-reaches it in a flash. It is practically\nunerring. It is controlled by laws not yet grasped to any great extent.\nIt is hidden from life, yet rules it.\n\nMystics have the gift, in varying degree, of allowing their subconscious\nminds to engulf and enfold them. The real poets have written in words\nthat live because, unknowingly, they have fallen back on and given\nexpression to the accumulated hopes and visions of the mind of man. The\nprophets have simply been those with the power to make their instincts\nvocal. Genius, in all its phases, is seemingly but the measure of the\nextent to which men cooerdinate their two minds, their instinct and their\nreason.\n\nNapoleon, in practically every crisis in which he functioned, struck\nthose about him as being in a dazed and unnatural condition. He had\nthose same periods of semi-stupefaction that characterized Caesar, Paul,\nAlexander, Goethe, Lincoln and other exceptional men at the time of or\nimmediately following a terrific use of their mental machinery.\n\nWhat, then, if, in the final analysis, it should be shown that\nNapoleon's greatness lay in the fact that he did not take his own mind\nor any other man's mind too seriously?\n\n\nTranscriber's notes:\n\nObvious typographical errors corrected.\n\nObvious Punctuation errors standardised.\n\nPage 333 \"It is quite plan that\": As per original.","title":"Heart and Soul by Maveric Post","tradition":"philosophy-ethics","translated_text":null,"word_count":74101}