{"collection":"philosophy-ethics","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_9469/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_9469","id":"gutenberg_9469","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/9469","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Essays, Letters & Speeches","Category: Philosophy & Ethics","Conduct of life","Young men"],"text":"Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Marvin A. Hodges, and Project\nGutenbert Distributed Proofreaders. HTML version by Al\nHaines.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE CALL OF THE TWENTIETH CENTURY\n\nAn Address to Young Men\n\nBy DAVID STARR JORDAN\n\nChancellor of Leland Stanford Junior University\n\n1903\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTo Vernon Lyman Kellogg\n\n\n\n\n                                 _So\n                                live that\n                              your afterself--\n                            the  man  you  ought\n                          to be--may in his time\n                        be possible and actual. Far\n                      away in the twenties, the thirties\n                    of the Twentieth Century, he is awaiting\n                  his turn. His body, his brain, his soul are in\n                your boyish hands. He cannot help himself. What will\n              you leave for him? Will it be a brain unspoiled by lust or\n            dissipation, a mind trained to think and act, a nervous system\n          true as a dial in its response to the truth about you? Will you,\n            boy of the Twentieth Century, let him come as a man among men\n              in his time, or will you throw away his inheritance before\n                he has had the chance to touch it? Will you let him come,\n                  taking your place, gaining through your experiences,\n                    hallowed through your joys, building on them his\n                      own, or  will  you  fling  his  hope  away,\n                        decreeing, wanton-like, that the man\n                          you might have been shall never\n                                   be?_\n\n\n\n\n\n\nThe new century has come upon us with a rush of energy that no century has\nshown before. Let us stand aside for a moment that we may see what kind of\na century it is to be, what is the work it has to do, and what manner of\nmen it will demand to do it.\n\nIn most regards one century is like another. Just as men are men, so times\nare times. In the Twentieth Century there will be the same joys, the same\nsorrows, the same marrying and giving in marriage, the same round of work\nand play, of wisdom and duty, of folly and distress which other centuries\nhave seen. Just as each individual man has the same organs, the same\npassions, the same functions as all others, so it is with all the\ncenturies. But we know men not by their likenesses, which are many, but by\ndifferences in emphasis, by individual traits which are slight and subtle,\nbut all-important in determining our likes and dislikes, our friendships,\nloves, and hates. So with the centuries; we remember those which are past\nnot by the mass of common traits in history and development, but by the few\nevents or thoughts unnoticed at the time, but which stand out like mountain\npeaks raised \"above oblivion's sea,\" when the times are all gathered in and\nthe century begins to blend with the \"infinite azure of the past.\" Not wars\nand conquests mark a century. The hosts grow small in the vanishing\nperspective, \"the captains and the kings depart,\" but the thoughts of men,\ntheir attitude toward their environment, their struggles toward\nduty,--these are the things which endure.\n\nCompared with the centuries that are past, the Twentieth Century in its\nbroad outlines will be like the rest. It will be selfish, generous,\ncareless, devoted, fatuous, efficient. But three of its traits must stand\nout above all others, each raised to a higher degree than any other century\nhas known. The Twentieth Century above all others will be _strenuous,\ncomplex_, and _democratic_. Strenuous the century must be, of\ncourse. This we can all see, and we have to thank the young man of the\nTwentieth Century who gave us the watchword of \"the strenuous life,\" and\nwho has raised the apt phrase to the dignity of a national purpose. Our\ncentury has a host of things to do, bold things, noble things, tedious\nthings, difficult things, enduring things. It has only a hundred years to\ndo them in, and two of these years are gone already. We must be up and\nbestir ourselves. If we are called to help in this work, there is no time\nfor an idle minute. Idle men and idle women no doubt will cumber our way,\nfor there are many who have never heard of the work to do, many who will\nnever know that there has been a new century. These the century will pass\nby with the gentle tolerance she shows to clams and squirrels, but on those\nof us she calls to her service she will lay heavy burdens of duty. \"The\ncolor of life is red.\" Already the fad of the drooping spirit, the\nend-of-the-century pose, has given way to the rush of the strenuous life,\nto the feeling that struggle brings its own reward. The men who are doing\nask no favor at the end. Life is repaid by the joy of living it.\n\nAs the century is strenuous so will it be complex. The applications of\nscience have made the great world small, while every part of it has grown\ninsistent. As the earth has shrunk to come within our grasp, so has our own\nworld expanded to receive it. \"My mind to me a kingdom is,\" and to this\nkingdom all the other kingdoms of the earth now send their embassadors. The\ncomplexity of life is shown by the extension of the necessity of choice.\nEach of us has to render a decision, to say yes or no a hundred times when\nour grandfathers were called upon a single time. We must say yes or no to\nour neighbors' theories or plans or desires, and whoever has lived or lives\nor may yet live in any land or on any island of the sea has become our\nneighbor. Through modern civilization we are coming into our inheritance,\nand this heirloom includes the best that any man has done or thought since\nhistory and literature and art began. It includes, too, all the arts and\ninventions by which any men of any time have separated truth from error. Of\none blood are all the people of the earth, and whatsoever is done to the\nleast of these little ones in some degree comes to me. We suffer from the\nmiasma of the Indian jungles; we starve with the savages of the harvestless\nislands; we grow weak with the abused peasants of the Russian steppes, who\nleave us the legacy of their grippe. The great volcano which buries far off\ncities at its foot casts its pitying dust over us. It is said that through\nthe bonds of commerce, common trade, and common need, there is growing up\nthe fund of a great \"bank of human kindness,\" no genuine draft on which is\never left dishonored. Whoever is in need of help the world over, by that\ntoken has a claim on us.\n\nIn our material life we draw our resources from every land. Clothing,\nspices, fruits, toys, household furniture,--we lay contributions on the\nwhole world for the most frugal meal, for the humblest dwelling. We need\nthe best work of every nation and every nation asks our best of us. The day\nof home-brewed ale, of home-made bread, and home-spun clothing is already\npast with us. Better than we can do, our neighbors send us, and we must\nsend our own best in return. With home-made garments also pass away\ninherited politics and hereditary religion, with all the support of caste\nand with all its barriers. We must work all this out for ourselves; we must\nmake our own place in society; we must frame our own creeds; we must live\nour own religion; for no longer can one man's religion be taken\nunquestionably by any other. As the world has been unified, so is the\nindividual unit exalted. With all this, the simplicity of life is passing\naway. Our front doors are wide open as the trains go by. The caravan\ntraverses our front yard. We speak to millions, millions speak to us; and\nwe must cultivate the social tact, the gentleness, the adroitness, the\nfirmness necessary to carry out our own designs without thwarting those of\nothers. Time no longer flows on evenly. We must count our moments, so much\nfor ourselves, so much for the world we serve and which serves us in\nreturn. We must be swift and accurate in the part we play in a drama so\nmighty, so strenuous, and so complex.\n\nMore than any of the others, the Twentieth Century will be democratic. The\ngreatest discovery of the Nineteenth Century was that of the reality of\nexternal things. That of the Twentieth Century will be this axiom in social\ngeometry: \"A straight line is the shortest distance between two points.\" If\nsomething needs doing, do it; the more plainly, directly, honestly, the\nbetter.\n\nThe earlier centuries cared little for the life of a man. Hence they failed\nto discriminate. In masses and mobs they needed kings and rulers but could\nnot choose them. Hence the device of selecting as ruler the elder son of\nthe last ruler, whatever his nature might be. A child, a lunatic, a\nmonster, a sage,--it was all the same to these unheeding centuries. The\npeople could not follow those they understood or who understood them. They\nmust trust all to the blind chance of heredity. Tyrant or figurehead, the\nmob, which from its own indifference creates the pomp of royalty, threw up\nits caps for the king, and blindly died for him in his courage or in his\nfolly with the same unquestioning loyalty. In like manner did the mob\nfashion lords and princes, each in its own image. Not the man who would do\nor think or help, but the eldest son of a former lord was chosen for its\nhomage. The result of it all was that no use was made of the forces of\nnature, for those who might have learned to control them were hunted to\ntheir death. The men who could think and act for themselves were in no\nposition to give their actions leverage.\n\nWhen a people really means to do something, it must resort to democracy. It\nmust value men as men, not as functions of a chain of conventionalities.\n\"America,\" says Emerson, \"means opportunity;\" opportunity for work,\nopportunity for training, opportunity for influence. Democracy exalts the\nindividual. It realizes that of all the treasures of the nation, the talent\nof its individual men is the most important. It realizes that its first\nduty is to waste none of this. It cannot afford to leave its Miltons mute\nand inglorious nor to let its village Hampdens waste their strength on\npetty obstacles while it has great tasks for them to accomplish. In a\ndemocracy, when work is to be done men rise to do it. No matter what the\norigin of our Washingtons and Lincolns, our Grants and our Shermans, our\nClevelands or our Roosevelts, our Eliots, our Hadleys, or our Remsens, we\nknow that they are being made ready for every crisis which may need their\nhand, for every work we would have them carry through. To give each man the\ntraining he deserves is to bring the right man face to face with his own\nopportunity. The straight line is the shortest distance between two points\nin life as in geometry. For the work of a nation we may not call on Lord\nThis or Earl That, whose ancestors have lain on velvet for a thousand\nyears; we want the man who can do the work, who can face the dragon, or\ncarry the message to Garc\u00eda. A man whose nerves are not relaxed by\ncenturies of luxury will serve us best. Give him a fair chance to try; give\nus a fair chance to try him. This is the meaning of democracy; not fuss and\nfeathers, pomp and gold lace, but accomplishment.\n\nDemocracy does not mean equality--just the reverse of this, it means\nindividual responsibility, equality before the law, of course--equality of\nopportunity, but no other equality save that won by faithful service. That\nsocial system which bids men rise must also let them fall if they cannot\nmaintain themselves. To choose the right man means the dismissal of the\nwrong. The weak, the incompetent, the untrained, the dissipated find no\ngrowing welcome in the century which is coming. It will have no place for\nunskilled laborers. A bucket of water and a basket of coal will do all that\nthe unskilled laborer can do if we have skilled men to direct them. The\nunskilled laborer is no product of democracy. He exists in spite of\ndemocracy. The children of the republic are entitled to something better. A\ngenerous education, a well-directed education, should be the birthright of\neach one of them. Democracy may even intensify natural inequalities. The\nman who cannot say no to cheap and vulgar temptations falls all the lower\nin the degree to which he is a free agent. In competition with men alert,\nloyal, trained and creative, the dullard is condemned to a lifetime of hard\nlabor, through no direct fault of his own. Keep the capable man down and\nyou may level the incapable one up. But this the Twentieth Century will not\ndo. This democracy will not do; this it is not now doing, and this it never\nwill attempt. The social condition which would give all men equal reward,\nequal enjoyment, equal responsibility, may be a condition to dream of. It\nmay be Utopia; it is not democracy. Sir Henry Maine describes the process\nof civilization as the \"movement from status to contract.\" This is the\nmovement from mass to man, from subservience to individualism, from\ntradition to democracy, from pomp and circumstance of non-essentials to the\nmethod of achievement.\n\nOwen Wister in \"The Virginian\" says: \"All America is divided into two\nclasses,--the quality and the equality. The latter will always recognize\nthe former when mistaken for it. Both will be with us until our women bear\nnothing but kings. It was through the Declaration of Independence that we\nAmericans acknowledged the _eternal inequality_ of man. For by it we\nabolished a cut-and-dried aristocracy. We had seen little men artificially\nheld up in high places, and great men artificially held down in low places,\nand our own justice-loving hearts abhorred this violence to human nature.\nTherefore we decreed that every man should, thenceforth have equal liberty\nto find his own level. By this very decree we acknowledged and gave freedom\nto true aristocracy, saying, 'Let the best man win, whoever he is.' Let the\nbest man win! That is America's word. That is true democracy. And true\ndemocracy and true aristocracy are one and the same thing. If anybody\ncannot see this, so much the worse for his eyesight.\"\n\n_Pauc\u00eds v\u00edvat humanum genus_: \"for the few the race should live,\"--this\nis the discarded motto of another age. The few live for the many.\nThe clean and strong enrich the life of all with their wisdom, with their\nconquests. It is to bring about the larger equalities of opportunity, or\npurpose, that we exalt the talents of the few.\n\nThis has not always been clear, even the history of the Republic. My own\ngreat grandfather, John Elderkin Waldo, said at Tolland, Connecticut, more\nthan a century ago: \"Times are hard with us in New England. They will never\nbe any better until each farm laborer in Connecticut is willing to work all\nday for a sheep's head and pluck,\" just as they used to do before the red\nschoolhouses on the hills began to preach their doctrines of sedition and\nequality. There could never be good times again, so he thought, till the\nmany again lived for the few.\n\nIt is in the saving of the few who serve the many that the progress of\ncivilization lies. In the march of the common man, and in the influence of\nthe man uncommon who rises freely from the ranks, we have all of history\nthat counts.\n\nIn a picture gallery at Brussels there is a painting by Wiertz, most\ncynical of artists, representing the man of the Future and the things of\nthe Past. A naturalist holds in his right hand a magnifying glass, and in\nthe other a handful of Napoleon and his marshals, guns, and\nbattle-flags,--tiny objects swelling with meaningless glory. He examines\nthese intensely, while a child at his side looks on in open-eyed wonder.\nShe cannot understand what a grown man can find in these curious trifles\nthat he should take the trouble to study them.\n\nThis painting is a parable designed to show Napoleon's real place in\nhistory. It was painted within a dozen miles of the field of Waterloo, and\nnot many years after the noise of its cannon had died away. It shows the\npoint of view of the man of the future. Save in the degradation of France,\nthrough the impoverishment of its life-blood, there is little in human\ncivilization to recall the disastrous incident of Napoleon's existence.\n\n_Pauc\u00eds v\u00edvat humanum genus_: \"the many live for the few.\" This shall\nbe true no longer. The earth belongs to him who can use it and the only\nforce which lasts is that which is used to make men free.\n\n\"Triumphant America,\" says George Horace Lorimer, \"certainly does not mean\neach and every one of our seventy-eight millions. For instance, it does not\ninclude the admitted idiots and lunatics, the registered paupers and\nparasites, the caged criminals, the six million illiterates. In a sense, it\nincludes the twenty-five to thirty million children, for they exert a\ntremendous influence upon the grown people. But in no sense does it include\nthe whittlers on dry-goods boxes, the bar-room loafers, the fellows that\nlisten all day long for the whistle to blow, those who are the first to be\nmentioned whenever there is talk of cutting down the force. It does not\ninclude those of our statesmen who spend their time in promoting corrupt\njobs, or in hunting places for lazy heelers. It does not include the\ndoctors who reach their high-water mark for professional knowledge on the\nday they graduate, or the lawyers who lie and cheat and procure injustice\nfor the sake of fees.\n\n\"Most of these--even the idiots and criminals--do a little something\ntowards progress. This world is so happily ordered that it is impossible\nfor one man to do much harm or to avoid doing some good; and one of the\ngreatest forces for good is the power of a bad example. Still it is not our\nbad examples that make us get on and earn us these smothers of flowery\ncompliment.\n\n\"Some of us are tall and others short, some straight and others crooked,\nsome strong, others feeble; some of us run, others walk, others snail it.\nBut all, all have their feet upon the same level of the common earth. And\nAmerica's worst enemy is he--or she--who by word or look encourages another\nto think otherwise. Head as high as you please; but feet always upon the\ncommon ground, never upon anybody's shoulders or neck, even though he be\nweak or willing.\"\n\nSo in this strenuous and complex age, this age of \"fierce democracy,\" what\nhave we to do, and with what manner of men shall we work? Young men of the\nTwentieth Century, will your times find place for you? There is plenty to\ndo in every direction. That is plain enough. All the pages in this little\nbook, or in a very large one, would be filled by a mere enumeration. In\nagriculture a whole great empire is yet to be won in the arid west, and the\nwest that is not arid and the east that was never so must be turned into\none vast market-garden. The Twentieth Century will treat a farm as a\nfriend, and it will yield rich returns for such friendship. In the\nTwentieth Century vast regions will be fitted to civilization, not by\nimperialism, which blasts, but by permeation, which reclaims.\n\nThe table-lands of Mexico, the plains of Manchuria, the Pampas of\nArgentine, the moors of Northern Japan, all these regions in our own\ntemperate zone offer a welcome to the Anglo-Saxon farmer. The great tropics\nare less hopeful, but they have never had a fair trial. The northern\nnations have tried to exploit them in haste, and then to get away, never to\nstay with them and work patiently to find out their best. Some day the\npossibilities of the Torrid Zone may come to us as a great discovery.\n\nThere is need of men in forestry; for we must win back the trees we have\nslain with such ruthless hand. The lumberman of the future will pick ripe\ntrees and save the rest as carefully as the herdsman selects his stock. In\nengineering, in mining, in invention, there are endless possibilities.\nEvery man who masters what is already known in any one branch of applied\nscience, makes his own fortune. He who can add a little, save a little, do\nsomething better or something cheaper, makes the fortune of a hundred\nothers. \"There is always room for a man of force, and he makes room for\nmany.\"\n\nAndrew Carnegie once said that the foundation of his fortune lay in the\nemployment of trained chemists, while other men made steel by rule of\nthumb. Trained chemists made better steel, just a little. They devised ways\nto make it cheaper, just a little, and they found means to utilize the\nslag. All this means hundreds of millions of dollars, if done on a large\nenough scale.\n\nThere is no limit to the demands of engineering. A million waterfalls dash\ndown the slopes of the Sierras. The patient sun has hauled the water up\nfrom the sea and spread it in snow over the mountains. The same sun will\nmelt the snow, and as the water falls back to the sea it will yield again\nthe force it cost to bring it to its heights. Thus sunshine and falling\nwater can be transmuted into power. This power already lights the cities of\nCalifornia, and some day it may be changed into the heat which moves a\nthousand factories. All these are the problems of the Electrical Engineer.\nEqually rich are the opportunities in other forms of engineering. There is\nno need to be in haste, perhaps, but the Twentieth Century is eager in its\nquest for gold. The mother lode runs along the foothills from Bering\nStraits to Cape Horn. From end to end of the continent the Twentieth\nCentury will bring this gold to light, and carry it all away. The Mining\nEngineer who knows the mountains best finds his fortune ready to his hand.\nCivil Engineers, Steam Engineers, Naval Engineers, whoever knows how to\nmanage things or men, even Social Engineers, Labor Engineers, all find an\neager welcome. There are never too many of those who know how; but the day\nof the rule of thumb has long since past. The Engineer of to-day must\ncreate, not imitate. And to him who can create, this last century we call\nthe Twentieth is yet part of the first day of Creation.\n\nIn commerce the field is always open for young men. The world's trade is\nbarely yet begun. We hear people whining over the spread of the commercial\nspirit, but what they mean is not the spirit of commerce. It is persistence\nof provincial selfishness, a spirit which has been with us since the fall\nof Adam, and which the centuries of whitening sails has as yet not\neradicated. The spirit of fair commerce is a noble spirit. Through commerce\nthe world is unified. Through commerce grows tolerance, and through\ntolerance, peace and solidarity. Commerce is world-wide barter, each nation\ngiving what it can best produce for what is best among others. Freedom\nbreeds commerce as commerce demands freedom. Only free men can buy and\nsell; for without selling no man nor nation has means to buy. When China is\na nation, her people will be no longer a \"yellow peril.\" It is poverty,\nslavery, misery, which makes men dangerous. In the words of \"Joss\nChinchingoss,\" the Kipling of Singapore, we have only to give the Chinaman\n\n  \"The chance at home that he makes for himself elsewhere,\n  And the star of the Jelly-fish nation mid others shall shine as fair.\"\n\nSince the day, twenty-three years ago, on which I first passed through the\nGolden Gate of California, I have seen the steady increase of the shipping\nwhich enters that channel. There are ten vessels to-day passing in and out\nto one in 1880. Another twenty-five years will see a hundred times as many.\nWe have discovered the Orient, and even more, the Orient has discovered us.\nWe may not rule it by force of arms; for that counts nothing in trade or\ncivilization. Commerce follows the flag only when the flag flies on\nmerchant ships. It has no interest in following the flag to see a fight.\nCommerce follows fair play and mutual service. Through the centuries of war\nmen have only played at commerce. The Twentieth Century will take it\nseriously, and it will call for men to do its work. It will call more\nloudly than war has ever done, but it will ask its men not to die bravely,\nbut to live wisely, and above all truthfully to watch their accounts.\n\nThe Twentieth Century will find room for pure science as well as for\napplied science and ingenious invention. Each Helmholtz of the future will\ngive rise to a thousand Edisons. Exact knowledge must precede any form of\napplications. The reward of pure science will be, in the future as in the\npast, of its own kind, not fame nor money, but the joy of finding truth. To\nthis joy no favor of fortune can add. The student of nature in all the ages\nhas taken the vow of poverty. To him money, his own or others, means only\nthe power to do more or better work.\n\nThe Twentieth Century will have its share in literature and art. Most of\nthe books it will print will not be literature, for idle books are written\nfor idle people, and many idle people are left over from less insistent\ntimes. The books sold by the hundred thousands to men and women not trained\nto make time count, will be forgotten before the century is half over. The\nbooks it saves will be books of its own kind, plain, straightforward,\nclear-cut, marked by that \"fanaticism for veracity\" which means everything\nelse that is good in the intellectual and moral development of man. The\nliterature of form is giving way already to the literature of power. We\ncare less and less for the surprises and scintillations of clever fellows;\nwe care more and more for the real thoughts of real men. We find that the\ndeepest thoughts can be expressed in the simplest language. \"A straight\nline is the shortest distance between two points\" in literature as well as\nin mechanics. \"In simplicity is strength,\" as Watt said of machinery, and\nit is true in art as well as in mechanics.\n\nIn medicine, the field of action is growing infinitely broader, now that\nits training is securely based on science, and the divining rod no longer\nstands first among its implements of precision. Not long ago, it is said, a\nyoung medical student in New York committed suicide, leaving behind this\ntouching sentence: \"I die because there is room for no more doctors.\" And\nthis just now, when for the first time it is worth while to be a doctor.\nRoom for no more doctors, no doubt, of the kind to which he belonged--men\nwho know nothing and care nothing for science and its methods, who choose\nthe medical school which will turn them loose most quickly and cheaply, who\nhave no feeling for their patients, and whose prescriptions are given with\nno more conscience than goes into the fabrication of an electric belt or\nthe compounding of a patent medicine. Room for no more doctors whose\nhighest conception is to look wise, take his chances, and pocket the fee.\nRoom for no more doctors just now, when the knowledge of human anatomy and\nphysiology has shown the way to a thousand uses of preventive surgery. Room\nfor no more doctors, when the knowledge of the microbes and their germs has\ngiven the hope of successful warfare against all contagious diseases; room\nfor no more doctors, when antiseptics and anaesthetics have proved their\nvalue in a thousand pain-saving ways. Room for no more doctors now, when\nthe doctor must be an honest man, with a sound knowledge of the human body\nand a mastery of the methods of the sciences on which this knowledge\ndepends. Room for no more doctors of the incompetent class, because the\nwiser times demand a better service.\n\nWhat is true in medicine applies also to the profession of law. The\npettifogger must give place to the jurist. The law is not a device for\ngetting around the statutes. It is the science and art of equity. The\nlawyers of the future will not be mere pleaders before juries. They will\nsave their clients from need of judge or jury. In every civilized nation\nthe lawyers must be the law-givers. The sword has given place to the green\nbag. The demands of the Twentieth Century will be that the statutes\ncoincide with equity. This condition educated lawyers can bring about. To\nknow equity is to be its defender.\n\nIn politics the demand for serious service must grow. As we have to do with\nwise and clean men, statesmen, instead of vote-manipulators, we shall feel\nmore and more the need for them. We shall demand not only men who can lead\nin action, but men who can prevent unwise action. Often the policy which\nseems most attractive to the majority is full of danger for the future. We\nneed men who can face popular opinion, and, if need be, to face it down.\nThe best citizen is one not afraid to cast his vote away by voting with the\nminority.\n\nAs we look at it in the rough, the political outlook of democracy often\nseems discouraging. A great, rich, busy nation cannot stop to see who grabs\nits pennies. We are plundered by the rich, we are robbed by the poor, and\ntrusts and unions play the tyrant over both. But all these evils are\ntemporary. The men that have solved greater problems in the past will not\nbe balked by these. Whatever is won for the cause of equity and decency is\nnever lost again. \"Eternal vigilance is the price of liberty,\" and in this\nTwentieth Century there are always plenty who are awake. One by one\npolitical reforms take their place on our statute books, and each one comes\nto stay.\n\nIn all this, the journalist of the future may find an honorable place. He\nwill learn to temper enterprise with justice, audacity with fidelity,\nomniscience with truthfulness. When he does this he will become a natural\nleader of men because he will be their real servant. To mould public\nopinion, to furnish a truthful picture of the times from day to day, either\nof these ideals in journalism gives ample room for the play of the highest\nmanly energy.\n\nThe need of the teacher will not grow less as the century goes on. The\nhistory of the future is written in the schools of to-day, and the reform\nwhich gives us better schools is the greatest of reforms. It is said that\nthe teacher's noblest work is to lead the child to his inheritance. This is\nthe inheritance he would win; the truth that men have tested in the past,\nand the means by which they were led to know that it was truth. \"Free\nshould the scholar be--free and brave,\" and to such as these the Twentieth\nCentury will bring the reward of the scholar.\n\nThe Twentieth Century will need its preachers and leaders in religion. Some\nsay, idly, that religion is losing her hold in these strenuous days. But\nshe is not. She is simply changing her grip. The religion of this century\nwill be more practical, more real. It will deal with the days of the week\nas well as with the Sabbath. It will be as patent in the marts of trade as\nin the walls of a cathedral, for a man's religion is his working hypothesis\nof life, not of life in some future world, but of life right here to-day,\nthe only day we have in which to build a life. It will not look backward\nexclusively to \"a dead fact stranded on the shore of the oblivious years,\"\nnor will its rewards be found alone in the life to come. The world of\nto-day will not be a \"vale of tears\" through which sinful men are to walk\nunhappily toward final reward. It will be a world of light and color and\njoy, a world in which each of us may have a noble though a humble\npart,--the work of the \"holy life of action.\" It will find religion in love\nand wisdom and virtue, not in bloodless asceticism, philosophical\ndisputation, the maintenance of withered creeds, the cultivation of\nfruitless emotion, or the recrudescence of forms from which the life has\ngone out. It is possible, Thoreau tells us, for us to \"walk in hallowed\ncathedrals,\" and this in our every-day lives of profession or trade. It is\nthe loyalty to duty, the love of God through the love of men, which may\ntransform the workshop to a cathedral, and the life of to-day may be divine\nnone the less because it is strenuous and complex. It may be all the more\nso because it is democratic, even the Sabbath and its duties being no\nlonger exalted above the other holy days.\n\nWhat sort of men does the century need for all this work it has to do? We\nmay be sure that it will choose its own, and those who cannot serve it will\nbe cast aside unpityingly. Those it can use it will pay generously, each\nafter its kind, some with money, some with fame, some with the sense of\npower, some with the joy of service. Some will work hard in spite of vast\nwealth, some only after taking the vow of poverty.\n\nThose not needed you can find any day. They lean against lamp-posts in\nplatoons, they crowd the saloons, they stand about railway stations all day\nlong to see trains go by. They dally on the lounges of fashionable clubs.\nThey may be had tied in bundles by the employers of menial labor. Their\nwomen work at the wash-tubs, and crowd the sweat shops of great cities; or,\nidle rich, they may dawdle in the various ways in which men and women\ndispose of time, yielding nothing in return for it. You, whom the century\nwants, belong to none of these classes. Yours must be the spirit of the\ntimes, strenuous, complex, democratic.\n\nA young man is a mighty reservoir of unused power. \"Give me health and a\nday and I will put the pomp of emperors to shame.\" If I save my strength\nand make the most of it, there is scarcely a limit to what I may do. The\nright kind of men using their strength rightly, far outrun their own\nambitions, not as to wealth and fame and position, but as to actual\naccomplishment. \"I never dreamed that I should do so much,\" is the frequent\nsaying of a successful man; for all men are ready to help him who throws\nhis whole soul into the service.\n\nMen of training the century must demand. It is impossible to drop into\ngreatness. \"There is always room at the top.\" so the Chicago merchant said\nto his son, \"but the elevator is not running.\" You must walk up the stairs\non your own feet. It is as easy to do great things as small, if you only\nknow how. The only way to learn to do great things is to do small things\nwell, patiently, loyally. If your ambitions run high, it will take a long\ntime in preparation. There is no hurry. No wise man begrudges any of the\ntime spent in the preparation for life, so long as it is actually making\nready.\n\n\"Profligacy,\" says Emerson, \"consists not in spending, but in spending off\nthe line of your career. The crime which bankrupts men and nations is that\nof turning aside from one's main purpose to serve a job here and there.\"\n\nThe value of the college training of to-day cannot be too strongly\nemphasized. You cannot save time nor money by omitting it, whatever the\nprofession on which you enter. The college is becoming a part of life. For\na long time the American college was swayed by the traditions of the\nEnglish aristocracy. Its purpose was to certify to a man's personal\nculture. The young man was sent to college that he might be a member of a\ngentler caste. His degree was his badge that in his youth he had done the\nproper thing for a gentleman to do. It attested not that he was wise or\ngood or competent to serve, but that he was bred a gentleman among\ngentlemen.\n\nSo long as the title of academic bachelor had this significance, the man of\naction passed it by. It had no meaning to him, and the fine edge of\naccuracy in thought and perception, which only the college can give, was\nwanting in his work. The college education did not seem to disclose the\nsecret of power, and the man of affairs would have none of it.\n\nA higher ideal came from Germany,--that of erudition. The German scholar\nknows some one thing thoroughly. He may be rude or uncultured, he may not\nknow how to use his knowledge, but whatever this knowledge is, it is sound\nand genuine. Thoroughness of knowledge gives the scholar self-respect; it\nmakes possible a broad horizon and clear perspective. From these sources,\nEnglish and German, the American University is developing its own essential\nidea,--that of personal effectiveness. The American University of to-day\nseeks neither culture nor erudition as its final end. It values both as\nmeans to greater ends. It looks forward to work in life. Its triumphs in\nthese regards the century will see clearly. It will value culture and\ntreasure erudition, but it will use both as helps toward doing things. It\nwill find its inspiration in the needs of the world as it is, and it is\nthrough such effort that the world that is to be shall be made a reality. A\ngreat work demands full preparation. It takes larger provision for a cruise\nto the Cape of Good Hope than for a trip to the Isle of Dogs. For this\nreason the century will ask its men to take a college education.\n\nIt will ask much more than that,--a college education where the work is\ndone in earnest, students and teachers realizing its serious value, and\nbesides all this, it will demand the best special training which its best\nuniversities can give. For the Twentieth Century will not be satisfied with\nthe universities of the fifteenth or seventeenth centuries. It will create\nits own, and the young man who does the century's work will be a product of\nits university system. Of this we may be sure, the training for strenuous\nlife is not in academic idleness. The development of living ideals is not\nin an atmosphere of cynicism. The blas\u00e9, lukewarm, fin-de-si\u00e8cle young man\nof the clubs will not represent university culture, nor, on the other hand,\nwill culture be dominated by a cheap utilitarianism.\n\n\"You will hear every day around you,\" said Emerson to the divinity students\nof Harvard, \"the maxims of a low prudence. You will hear that your first\nduty is to get land and money, place and fame. 'What is this truth you\nseek? What is this beauty?' men will ask in derision. If, nevertheless, God\nhave called any of you to explain truth and beauty, be bold, be firm, be\ntrue. When you shall say, 'As others do, so will I; I renounce, I am sorry\nfor it--my early visions; I must eat the good of the land, and let learning\nand romantic speculations go until some more favorable season,' then dies\nthe man in you; then once more perish the buds of art and poetry and\nscience, as they have died already in a hundred thousand men. The hour of\nthat choice is the crisis in your history.\"\n\nThe age will demand steady headed men, men whose feet stand on the ground,\nmen who can see things as they really are, and act accordingly. \"The\nresolute facing of the world as it is, with all the garments of\nmake-believe thrown off,\"--this, according to Huxley, is the sole cure for\nthe evils which beset men and nations. The only philosophy of life is that\nderived from its science. We know right from wrong because the destruction\nis plain in human experience. Right action brings abundance of life. Wrong\naction brings narrowness, decay, and degeneration. A man must have\nprinciples of life above all questions of the mere opportunities of to-day,\nbut these principles are themselves derived from experience. They belong to\nthe higher opportunism, the consideration of what is best in the long run.\nThe man who is controlled by an arbitrary system without reference to\nconditions, is ineffective. He becomes a crank, a fanatic, a man whose aims\nare out of all proportion to results. This is because he is dealing with an\nimaginary world, not with the world as it is. We may admire the valiant\nknight who displays a noble chivalry in fighting wind-mills, but we do not\ncall on a wind-mill warrior when we have some plain, real work to\naccomplish. All progress, large or small, is the resultant of many forces.\nWe cannot single out any one of these as of dominant value, and ignore or\ndespise the others. In moving through the solar system, the earth is\nfalling toward the sun as well as flying away from it. In human society,\negoism is coexistent with altruism, competition with co-operation, mutual\nstruggle with mutual aid. Each is as old as the other and each as\nimportant; for the one could not exist without the other. Not in air-built\nUtopias, but in flesh and blood, wood and stone and iron, will the movement\nof humanity find its realization.\n\nDon't count on gambling as a means of success. Gambling rests on the desire\nto get something for nothing. So does burglary and larceny. \"The love of\nmoney is the root of all evil.\" This was said long ago, and it is not\nexactly what the wise man meant. He was speaking of unearned money. Money\nis power, and to save up power is thrift. On thrift civilization is\nbuilded. The root of all evil is the desire to get money without earning\nit. To get something for nothing demoralizes all effort. The man who gets a\nwindfall spends his days watching the wind. The man who wins in a lottery\nbuys more lottery tickets. Whoever receives bad money, soon throws good\nmoney after bad. He will throw that of others when his own is gone. No firm\nor corporation is rich enough to afford to keep gamblers as clerks.\n\nThe age will demand men of good taste who care for the best they know.\nVulgarity is satisfaction with mean things. That is vulgar which is poor of\nits kind. There is a kind of music called rag-time,--vulgar music, with\ncatchy tunes--catchy to those who do not know nor care for things better.\nThere are men satisfied with rag-time music, with rag-time theatres, with\nrag-time politics, rag-time knowledge, rag-time religion. \"It was my duty\nto have loved the highest.\" The highest of one man may be low for another,\nbut no one can afford to look downward for his enjoyments. The corrosion of\nvulgarity spreads everywhere. Its poison enters every home. The billboards\nof our cities bear evidence to it; our newspapers reek with it, our story\nbooks are filled with it; we cannot keep it out of our churches or our\ncolleges. The man who succeeds must shun, vulgarity. To be satisfied with\npoor things in one line will tarnish his ideals in the direction of his\nbest efforts. One great source of failure in life is satisfaction with mean\nthings. It is easier to be almost right than to be right. It is less trying\nto wish than to do. There are many things that glitter as well as gold and\nwhich can be had more cheaply. Illusion is always in the market and can be\nhad on easy terms. Realities do not lie on the bargain counters. Happiness\nis based on reality. It must be earned before we can come into its\npossession. Happiness is not a state. It is the accompaniment of action. It\ncomes from the exercise of natural functions, from doing, thinking,\nplanning, fighting, overcoming, loving. It is positive and strengthening.\nIt is the signal \"all is well,\" passed from one nerve cell to another. It\ndoes not burn out as it glows. It makes room for more happiness. Loving,\ntoo, is a positive word. It is related to happiness as an impulse to\naction. The love that does not work itself out in helping acts as mere\ntorture of the mind. The primal impulse of vice and sin is a short cut to\nhappiness. It promises pleasure without earning it. And this pleasure is\nalways an illusion. Its final legacy is weakness and pain. Pain is not a\npunishment, but a warning of harm done to the body. The unearned pleasures\nprovoke this warning. They leave a \"dark brown taste in the mouth.\" Their\nrecollection is \"different in the morning.\" Such pleasures, Robert Burns\nwho had tried many of them says, are \"like poppies spread,\" or \"like the\nsnow-falls on the river.\" But it is not true that they pass and leave no\ntrace. Their touch is blasting. But true happiness leaves no reaction. To\ndo strengthens a man for more doing; to love makes room for more loving.\n\nThe second power of vulgarity is obscenity, and this vice is like the\npestilence. All inane vulgarity tends to become obscene. From obscenity\nrather than drink comes the helplessness of the ordinary tramp.\n\nAnother form of vulgarity is profanity. The habit of swearing is not a mark\nof manliness. It is the sign of a dull, coarse, unrefined nature, a lack of\nverbal initiative. Sometimes, perhaps, profanity seems picturesque and\neffective. I have known it so in Arizona once or twice, in old Mexico and\nperhaps in Wyoming, but never in the home, or the street, or the ordinary\naffairs of life. It is not that blasphemy is offensive to God. He is used\nto it, perhaps, for he has met it under many conditions. But it is\noffensive to man, insulting to the atmosphere, and destructive of him who\nuses it. Profanity and bluster are not signs of courage. The bravest men\nare quiet of speech and modest in demeanor.\n\nThe man who is successful will not be a dreamer. He will have but one dream\nand that will work itself out as a purpose. Dreaming wanes into\nsentimentalism, and sentimentalism is fatal to action. The man of purpose\nsays no to all lesser calls, all minor opportunities. He does not abandon\nhis college education because a hundred dollar position is offered him\noutside. He does not turn from one profession because there is money in\nanother. He has his claim staked out, and with time he will only fill in\nthe detail of its boundaries.\n\n\"Now that you are through college, what are you going to do?\" asked a\nfriend of a wise young man.\n\n\"I shall study medicine,\" was the grave reply.\n\n\"But isn't that profession already overcrowded?\" asked the friend.\n\n\"Possibly it is,\" said the youth, \"but I purpose to study medicine all the\nsame. Those who are already in the profession must take their chances.\"\n\nIn this joke of the newspapers there is a sound philosophy. Men of purpose\nnever overcrowd. The crowd is around the foot of the staircase waiting for\nthe elevator.\n\nThe old traveller, Rafinesque, tells us that when he was a boy he read the\nvoyages of Captain Cook, Le Vaillant, Pallas, and Bougainville, and \"my\nsoul was fired to be a great traveller like them, and so I became such,\" he\nadds shortly.\n\nIf you say to yourself: \"I will be a traveller, a statesman, an engineer;\"\nif you never unsay it; if you bend all your powers in that direction; if\nyou take advantage of all helps that come in your way and reject all that\ndo not, you will sometime reach your goal. For the world turns aside to let\nany man pass who knows whither he is going.\n\n\"Why should we call ourselves men,\" said Mirabeau, \"unless it be to succeed\nin everything, everywhere. Say of nothing: 'This is beneath me,' nor feel\nthat anything is beyond your power, for nothing is impossible to the man\nwho can will.\"\n\nDo not say that I am expecting too much of the effects of a firm\nresolution, that I give advice which would lead to failure. For the man who\nwill fail will never take a resolution. Those among you whom fate has cut\nout to be nobodies are the ones who will never try!\n\nEven harmless pleasures hurt if they win you from your purpose. Lorimer's\nold merchant writes to his son at Harvard: \"You will meet fools enough in\nthe day without hunting up the main herd at night.\" This plain business\nman's advice is worth every young man's attention.\n\nThe Twentieth Century will ask for men of instant decision, men whose\nmental equipment is all in order, ready to be used on the instant. Yes and\nno, right and wrong, we must have them labelled and ready to pack to go\nanywhere, to do anything at any time, or to know why we refuse to do it, if\nit is something we will not do. Ethelred the Unready died helpless a\nthousand years ago. The unready are still with us, but the strenuous\ncentury will grant them but short shrift.\n\nThe man of the Twentieth Century will be a hopeful man. He will love the\nworld and the world will love him. \"There is no hope for you,\" Thoreau once\nsaid, \"unless this bit of sod under your feet is the sweetest for you in\nthe world--in any world.\" The effective man takes his reward as he goes\nalong. Nowhere is the sky so blue, the grass so green, the opportunities so\nchoice as now, here, to-day, the time, the place where his work must be\ndone.\n\n\"To-day is your day and mine,\" I have said on another occasion; \"the only\nday we have, the day in which we play our part; what our part may signify\nin the great whole we may not understand, but we are here to play it, and\nnow is the time. This we know: it is a part of action, not of whining. It\nis a part of love, not cynicism. It is for us to express love in terms of\nhuman helpfulness.\"\n\nWhatever feeling is worthy and real will express itself in action, and the\nglow that surrounds worthy action we call happiness.\n\nHe will be a loyal man, considering always the best interests of him he\nserves, ready to lay down his life, if need be, for duty, ready to abandon\nwhatever conflicts with higher loyalty, with higher duty.\n\nIn the economic struggles of to-day, well-meaning men are making two huge\nmistakes, which in time will undo whatever of good their efforts may\naccomplish. One of these is the struggle against education, the effort to\nlimit the number of skilled laborers, and this in a free country where each\nman's birthright is the development of his skill. The other is the effort\nto destroy the feeling of personal loyalty on the part of the laborer. Half\nthe value of any man's service lies in his willingness, his devotion to the\nman or the work. This old-fashioned virtue of loyalty must not be\ncheapened. The man whose service is worth paying for, gives more than his\nlabor. He believes that what he does is right, and when anything goes wrong\nhe will turn in and make it right. In the long run the laborer can get no\nmore than he deserves, and disloyal labor is paving the way for its own\nsubjugation. Unwilling service is a form of slavery, and unwilling\nemployment is a slavery of the employer.\n\nMore than all this, the man in the Twentieth Century needs must be a man of\ncharacter. It was said of Abraham Lincoln that he was a man \"too simply\ngreat to scheme for his proper self.\" The man who schemes for his own\nadvancement soon forfeits the support of others. He may lay pipes and pull\nwires, seeming for a little to succeed. \"God consents, but only for a\ntime.\" Sooner or later, if he lives to meet his fate, he finds his end in\nutter failure. And this failure is final: for those who have suffered will\nnot help him again. Even rats desert a sinking ship. To be successful a man\nneed take no heed for his own particular future. He will find his place in\nthe future of his work.\n\nIn the ordinary business of life the smart man has had his day. He gives\nplace to the man who can bring about results. Whatever the present menace\nof trust and monopoly, the business of the future must be conducted on\nlarge lines. The profits of the future will be the legitimate reward of\neconomy, organization, and boldness of conception. To this end absolute\nhonesty is essential to success. The merchant selling poor goods at high\nprices, an article which looks as good as the real thing but is something\nelse, must give place to a larger system, with specialized service on a\nbasis of absolute truthfulness. Business of a large scale must finally\ndemand publicity and equity. Sooner or later even monopolies must grant\nthis, whether we insist on it by statute or not. It is necessary for their\nown protection; for large structures cannot long stand on insecure\nfoundations. In the long run trade is honest; for dishonest trade cuts its\nown throat.\n\nAbove all, because including all, the century will ask for men of sober\nmind. The finest piece of mechanism in all the universe is the brain of man\nand the mind which is its manifestation. What mind is, or how it is related\nto brain cells, we cannot say, but this we know, that as the brain is, so\nis the mind; whatever injury comes to the one is shown in the other. In\nthis complex structure, with its millions of connecting cells, we are able\nto form images of the external world, truthful so far as they go, to retain\nthese images, to compare them, to infer relations of cause and effect, to\ninduce thought from sensation, and to translate thought into action. In\nproportion to the exactness of these operations is the soundness, the\neffectiveness of the man. The man is the mind, and everything else is\naccessory. The sober man is the one who protects his brain from all that\nwould do it harm. Vice is our name for self-inflicted injury, and the\npurpose of vice is to secure a temporary feeling of pleasure through injury\nto the brain. Real happiness does not come through vice. You will know that\nwhich is genuine because it makes room for more happiness. The pleasures of\nvice are mere illusions, tricks of the nervous system, and each time these\ntricks are played it is more and more difficult for the mind to tell the\ntruth. Such deceptions come through drunkenness and narcotism. In greater\nor less degree all nerve-affecting drugs produce it; alcohol, nicotine,\ncaffeine, opium, cocaine, and the rest, strong or weak. Habitual use of any\nof these is a physical vice. A physical vice becomes a moral vice, and all\nvice leaves its record on the nervous system. To cultivate vice is to\nrender the actual machinery of our mind incapable of normal action.\n\nIt is the brain's business to perceive, to think, to will, to act. All\nthese functions taken together we call the mind. The brain is hidden in\ndarkness, sheltered within a box of bone. All that it knows comes to it\nfrom the nerves of sense. All that it can do in this world is to act on the\nmuscles it controls through its nerves of motion. The final purpose of\nknowledge is action. Our senses tell us what lies about us, that we may\nmove and act, and do this wisely and safely. The sense-organs are the\nbrain's only teachers so far as we know, the muscles are its only servants.\nBut there are many orders which may be issued to these servants. Out of the\nmany sensations, memories, imaginations, how shall the brain choose?\n\nThe power of attention fixes the mind on those sensations or impressions of\nmost worth, pushing the others into the background. Past impressions,\nmemory-pictures, linger in the brain, and these, bidden or unbidden, crowd\nwith the others. To know the relation of all these, to distinguish present\nimpressions from memories, realities from dreams,--this is mental sanity.\nThe sane brain performs its appointed task. The mind is clear, the will is\nstrong, the attention persistent, and all is well in the world. But the\nmachinery of the brain may fail. The mind grows confused. It mistakes\nmemories for realities. It loses the power of attention. A fixed idea may\ntake possession of it, or it may be filled by a thousand vagrant\nimpressions, wandering memories, in as many seconds. In this case the\nresponse of the muscles becomes uncertain. The acts are governed not by the\ndemands of external conditions but by internal whims. This is a condition\nof mania or mental irresponsibility. Some phase of mental unsoundness is\nproduced by any of the drugs which affect the nerves, whether stimulants or\nnarcotics. They may help to borrow from our future store of energy, but\nthey borrow at compound interest and never repay the loan. They give an\nimpression of joy, of rest, of activity, without giving the fact; one and\nall, their function is to force the nervous system to lie. Each indulgence\nin any of them makes it harder to tell the truth. One and all, their\nsupposed pleasures are followed by reactions, subjective pains as unreal as\nthe joys which they follow. Each of them, if used persistently, brings\nincapacity, insanity, and death. With each of them use creates appetite. To\nyield once it is easier to yield again. The harm of some of them is slight.\nTea, coffee, beer, claret, in moderate quantities, do but moderate harm,\nbut all of them are without other effect on the nerves save to work them\ninjury. White lies at the best are falsehoods. These are the white lies of\nphysiology. In regard to each of these, the young man must count the cost.\nCount all the cost and be prepared to pay. The song of Ulrich von H\u00fctten,\nwhen he gave his life for religious freedom, is worth applying to all other\ncostly things. He sang:--\n\n  \"'Ich habe gewagt mit Sinnen\n  Und trage des noch kein Reu.'\"\n\n  \"With open eyes have I dared it,\n  and cherish no regret.\"\n\nFor all indulgence in wine and coffee and tobacco you will have a bill to\npay. Perhaps not a heavy bill. The indulgence may be worth the while, but\nif so, find out for yourself beforehand whether others have found it so. If\nyou dare, dare with open eyes and cherish no regrets. For regret is the\nmost profitless thing to cherish. There is nothing more distressing than\nremorse without will. The only hope in the world is to stop, and by the\ntime that the inebriate comes to realize where he is, it is too late to\nstop.\n\n\"There is joy in life,\" says Sullivan, the pugilist, \"but it is known only\nto the man who has a few jolts of liquor under his belt.\" To know this kind\nof joy is to put one's self beyond the reach of all others.\n\nThe joy of the blue sky, the bright sunshine, the rushing torrent, the\nsongs of birds, \"sweet as children's prattle is,\" the breath of the\nmeadows, the glow of effort, the beauty of poetry, the achievement of\nthought, the thousand and thousand real pleasures of life, are inaccessible\nto him \"who has a few jolts of liquor under his belt,\" while the sorrows he\nfeels, or thinks he feels, are as unreal as his joys, and as unworthy of a\nlife worth living.\n\nThere was once, I am told, a man who came into his office smacking his\nlips, and said to his clerk, \"The world looks very different to the man who\nhas had a good glass of brandy and soda in the morning.\" \"Yes,\" said the\nclerk, \"and the man looks different to the world.\"\n\nAnd this is natural and inevitable, for the pleasure, which exists only in\nthe imagination, leads to action which has likewise nothing to do with the\ndemands of life. The mind is confused, and may be delighted with the\nconfusion, but the confused muscles tremble and halt. The tongue is\nloosened and utters unfinished sentences; the hand is loosened and the\nhandwriting is shaky; the muscles of the eyes are unharnessed, and the two\neyes move independently and see double; the legs are loosened, and the\nconfusion of the brain shows itself in the confused walk. And if this\nconfusion is long continued, the mental deterioration shows itself in\nexternal things,--the shabby hat and seedy clothing, and the gradual drop\nof the man from stratum to stratum of society, till he brings up some night\nin the ditch. As the world looks more and more different to him, so does he\nlook more and more different to the world.\n\nA prominent lawyer of Boston once told me that the great impulse to total\nabstinence came to him when a young man, from hearing his fellow lawyers\ntalking over their cups. The most vital secrets of their clients' business\nwere made public property when their tongues were loosened by wine; and\nthis led him to the firm resolution that nothing should go into his mouth\nwhich would prevent him from keeping it closed unless he wanted to open it.\nThe time will come when the only opening for the ambitious man of\nintemperate habits will be in politics. It is rapidly becoming so now.\nPrivate employers dare not trust their business to the man who drinks. The\ngreat corporations dare not. He is not wanted on the railroads. The\nsteamship lines have long since cast him off. The banks dare not use him.\nHe cannot keep accounts. Only the people, long-suffering and generous,\nremain as his resource. For this reason municipal government is his\nspecialty; and while this patience of the people lasts, our cities will\nbreed scandals as naturally as our swamps breed malaria. Already the\nbusiness of the century recognizes the truth of all this. The bonding\ncompanies ask, before they sign a contract, whether the official in\nquestion uses liquor, what kind of liquor, whether he smokes, gambles, or\nin other ways so conducts himself that in five years he will be less of a\nman than he is now.\n\nThe great corporations ask the same questions as to all their employees.\nEven these organizations called \"soulless\" know the value of men, and that\nthe vices of to-day must be reckoned at compound interest and charged\nagainst their estimate of the young man's future. The Twentieth Century\nmust be temperate; for only sober men can bear the strain of its\nenterprises.\n\nEqually dangerous is the search for the joys of love by those who would\nshirk all love's responsibilities. Just as honest love is the most powerful\ninfluence that can enter into a man's life, so is love's counterfeit the\nmost disintegrating. Happiness cannot spring from the ashes of lust. Love\nlooks toward the future. Its glory is its altruism. To shirk responsibility\nis to destroy the home. The equal marriage demands equal purity of heart,\nequal chastity of intention. Open vice brings with certainty disease and\ndegradation. Secret lust comes to the same end, but all the more surely\nbecause the folly of lying is added to other sources of decay. That society\nis so severe in its condemnation of \"the double life\" is an expression of\nthe bitterness of its experience. The real character of a man is measured\nby the truth he shows to women. His ideal of womankind is gauged by the\ncharacter of the woman he seeks.\n\nIn general, the sinner is not the man who sets out in life to be wicked.\nFew men are born wicked; many are born weak. False ideas of manliness;\nfalse conceptions of good fellowship, which false ideas of the relationship\nof men and women give, wreck many a young man of otherwise good intentions.\nThe sinner is the man who cannot say no. The fall through vice to sin is a\nmatter of slow transition. One virtue after another is yielded up as the\nstrain on the will becomes too great. In Kipling's fable of Parenness, the\ndemon appears before the clerk in the Indian service, who has been too long\na good fellow among the boys. It asks him to surrender three things in\nsuccession: his trust in man, his faith in woman, then the hopes and\nambitions of his childhood. When these are given up, as they must be in the\nlife of dissipation, the demon leaves him in exchange a little crust of dry\nbread. Bare existence without joy or hope is all that the demon can give\nwhen the forces of life are burned out.\n\nIn our colleges, the one ethical principle kept before the athlete by his\nassociates is this: Never break training rules. The pitcher who smokes a\ncigarette throws away his game. The punter who spends the night at a dance\nloses his one chance of making a goal. The sprinter who takes the glass of\nconvivial beer breaks no record. His record breaks him. Some day we shall\nrealize that the game of life is more than the game of foot-ball. We have\nwork every day more intricate than pitching curves, more strenuous than\npunting the ball. We must keep in trim for it. We must hold ourselves in\nrepair. We must remember training rules. When this is done, we shall win\nnot only games and races, but the great prizes of life. Almost half the\nstrength of the men of America is now wasted in dissipation, gross or\npetty, in drink or smoke. This strength would be saved could we remember\ntraining rules. Through the training rules of our fathers we have come to\nconsider as part of our inheritance the Puritan Conscience. As the success\nof our nation is built upon this conscience, so in like fashion depends\nupon it the success of our daily life.\n\nI had a friend once, a mining man of some education, who made his fortune\nin bonanza days in Nevada, and who drank up what he had made with the boys\nwho have long since passed away. As a hopeless sot he visited the gold cure\nat Los Gatos. Not finding much relief, he walked over to Palo Alto to\nborrow of me his fare to San Francisco. He said that he was going to pawn\nhis goods for a fare to Nevada, where he meant to kill himself. Whether he\ndid so or not, I do not know; for ten years have gone by and I have never\nheard of him again.\n\nAs he sat in my room, haggard, bloodshot, ragged, gin-flavored, a little\nboy who had then never known sin, came in, and being no respecter of\npersons, took him for a man and offered him his hand.\n\nBeing taken for a man, brought him back his manhood for a moment. The\nvisions of evil left him, and from Dickens' poem of \"The Children\" he\nrepeated almost to himself these words:--\n\n  \"'I know now how Jesus could liken The Kingdom of God to a child.'\"\n\nThe old scene came back to him. When the Master was teaching, the children\ncrowded about him, and there were those who would send them away. But the\nMaster said, \"No, let the little children come unto me, and do not forbid\nthem; for of such is the Kingdom of Heaven.\" And again he said, \"The\nKingdom of Heaven is within you.\" And again those whose services the Lord\nof the centuries could use, he likened to little children.\n\nAnd of the many ways in which this likeness can be used this is one. The\nchild is born with brain and nervous system adequate to its many purposes\nin life, if it is suffered to grow naturally, to become what God meant it\nto be. There are not many children of sin not made so by vice,\nintemperance, lust, and obscenity. They are victims of their elders' folly,\nof our carelessness as to their environment. Half the troubles of men of\nour race come through self-inflicted injury to the nervous system. We are\ntormented by the \"fool-killer.\" If we could revert to the child's simple\npurity, the free movement of its machinery of life, we should find\nourselves in a new heaven on a new earth. We could understand for ourselves\npart of what the Master meant. We should know now how Jesus could liken the\nKingdom of God to a child.\n\nAll forms of subjective enjoyment, all pleasures that begin and end with\nself, unrelated to external things, are insane and unwholesome, destructive\nalike to rational enjoyment and to effectiveness in life. And this is true\nof spurious emotions alike, whether the pious ecstasies of a half-starved\nmonk, the neurotic imaginings of a sentimental woman, or the riots of a\ndebauchee. He is the wise man who for all his life can keep mind and soul\nand body clean.\n\n\"I know of no more encouraging fact,\" says Thoreau, \"than the ability of a\nman to elevate his life by conscious endeavor. It is something to paint a\nparticular picture, or to carve a statue, and so make a few objects\nbeautiful. It is far more glorious to carve and paint the very atmosphere\nand medium through which we look. This morally we can do.\"\n\nIf it were ever my fortune in speaking to young men to become eloquent,\nwith the only real eloquence there is, the plain speaking of a living\ntruth, this I would say:--\n\nYour first duty in life is toward your after-self. So live that your\nafter-self--the man you ought to be--may in his time be possible and\nactual. Far away in the twenties, the thirties, of the Twentieth Century he\nis awaiting his turn. His body, his brain, his soul are in your boyish\nhands. He cannot help himself. What will you leave for him? Will it be a\nbrain unspoiled by lust or dissipation, a mind trained to think and act, a\nnervous system true as a dial in its response to the truth about you? Will\nyou, boy of the Twentieth Century, let him come as a man among men in his\ntime, or will you throw away his inheritance before he has had the chance\nto touch it? Will you turn over to him a brain distorted, a mind diseased,\na will untrained to action, a spinal cord grown through and through with\nthe devil grass of that vile harvest we call wild oats? Will you let him\ncome, taking your place, gaining through your experiences, hallowed through\nyour joys, building on them his own, or will you fling his hope away,\ndecreeing wanton-like that the man you might have been shall never be?\n\nThis is your problem in life, the problem of more importance to you than\nany or all others. How will you solve it? Will you meet it as a man or as a\nfool? When you answer this, we shall know what use the Twentieth Century\ncan make of you.\n\n\"Death is a thing cleaner than Vice,\" Owen Wister tells us, and in the long\nrun it is more profitable.\n\nCharles R. Brown tells us of the old physician showing the physical effects\nof vice in the Museum of Pathology. \"Almighty God writes a very plain\nhand.\" This is what he said. In every failure as in every success in the\nTwentieth Century, this plain hand can be plainly traced. \"By their long\nmemories the gods are known.\" This is an older form of the very same great\nlesson, the \"goodness and severity of God.\"\n\nThose who control the spiritual thought of the Twentieth Century will be\nreligious men. They will not be religious in the fashion of monks,\nascetics, mystic dreamers, or emotional enthusiasts. They will not be\nactive in debating societies, discussing the intricacies of creeds. Neither\nwill they be sticklers as to details in religious millinery. They will be\nsimple, earnest, God-fearing, because they have known the God that makes\nfor righteousness. Their religion of the Twentieth Century will be its\nworking theory of life. It will be expressed in simple terms or it may not\nbe expressed at all, but it will be deep graven in the heart. In wise and\nhelpful life it will find ample justification. It will deal with the world\nas it is in the service of \"the God of things as they are.\" It will find\nthis world not \"a vale of tears,\" a sink of iniquity, but a working\nparadise in which the rewards of right doing are instant and constant. It\nwill find indeed that \"His service is perfect freedom,\" for all things\nlarge or small within the reach of human effort are done in His way and in\nHis way only.\n\nWhittier tells us of the story of the day in Connecticut in 1780, when the\nhorror of great darkness came over the land, and all men feared the dreaded\nDay of Judgment had come at last.\n\nThe Legislature of Connecticut, \"dim as ghosts\" in the old State House,\nwished to adjourn to put themselves in condition for the great assizes.\nMeanwhile, Abraham Davenport, representative from Stamford rose to\nsay:--\n\n  \"This may well be\n  The Day of Judgment for which the world awaits;\n  But be it so or not, I only know\n  My present duty and my Lord's command\n  To occupy till He come.\n  So at the Post where He hath set me in His Providence,\n  I choose for one to meet Him face to face.\n  Let God do His work. We will see to ours.\"\n\nThen he took up a discussion of an act relating to the fisheries of alewife\nand shad, speaking to men who felt them obliged to stand by their duty,\nthough never expecting to see shad, or alewife, or even Connecticut again.\n\n  \"Glad did I live and gladly die,\n  And I lay me down with a will.\"\n\nThis was Stevenson's word. \"Let God do His work; we will see to ours.\" And\nin whatever part of God's Kingdom we men of the Twentieth Century may find\nourselves, we shall know that we are at home. For the same hand that made\nthe world and the ages created also the men in whose hands the final\noutcome of the wayward centuries finds its place within the Kingdom of\nHeaven.","title":"The Call of the Twentieth Century, an Address to Young Men","tradition":"philosophy-ethics","translated_text":null,"word_count":12700}