solve our own individual problems, conquer our own peculiar
temptations, and attain our ideals. We must practice autosuggestion.
It is noteworthy that the loftiest spirits have always practiced it,
in their habit of daily prayer. For whatever else prayer accomplishes,
it certainly brings the mind back to its ideals, concentrates it
earnestly engaged in, is the best possible form of suggestion. The
lapse of this habit helps to explain why unbelievers so often degenerate
morally. Comte, that positive disbeliever in supernatural dogmas, clearly
recognized this danger, and enjoined upon his followers a consecration
prayer three times a day. In recent years the writers who call their
doctrine by the name of The New Thought - and other kindred thinkers
have called attention to the possibilities of self- help, directing
us to "retire into the silence," there to concentrate our minds upon
those beliefs that are comforting and inspiring to us; and have helped
many thereby to attain peace and self-possession. But still the conscious
use of autosuggestion for the attainment of personal ideals has been
very little discussed, and in the employment of this great power we
are astonishingly backward.

A practicable mechanism of self-control.

Let us, then, outline briefly the chief points necessary to note in
using this force for our own benefit. A necessary preliminary is to
study our problems, analyze our difficulties, make sure exactly what
we want to do and wherein we fail; and thereby to pin our aspirations
down to definite resolves to act in certain ways rather than in certain
other ways. Our ideals are apt to be vague and even conflicting, or
else so abstract and general as to fail to direct us with precision
to any concrete act. We realize dumbly that we are not what we
should be, and we grope for better things; but just wherein the
difference consists, just where is the point where we go off the track,
is uncertain in our minds. As in physical achievement, half the success
lies in applying the effort at just the right place. The men who have
accomplished much are those who have known exactly what they wanted
to do and have concentrated their energies upon that. If we have so
much self-reformation to accomplish as to dissipate our attention,
it may be wise to decide which changes are most immediately important
and to limit our endeavors at first to those.

Included in this preliminary task is the fixation in our minds of the
reasons for the lines of conduct we intend to follow, all the motives
that draw us toward them. This will show us whether we, i.e., our
better selves, really wish to acquire these new habits, are really
convinced that they are right, or whether we are merely putting before
ourselves some one else's ideal which we vaguely feel we ought or are
expected to follow. One can often convince one's self quite thoroughly
of ideas one did not really believe in by this method of suggestion;
but if we are to control our own morals we wish to control them not
by some one else's ideals but by our own. If a thing is really right
to do there must be definite and legitimate reasons for the doing which
can appeal to our intelligence and our emotions; these we should bring
into the foreground of our thought and express as clearly and forcibly
as possible.

We have now the material for our work. We must so hammer these
resolutions and the motives to them into our heads that they will be
vividly conscious to us when they are needed. In this process there
are three main points to be remembered - Concentration, Iteration,
and Assertion.

(1) Concentration. The more completely the mind can be concentrated
upon the resolution and its motives the deeper will they penetrate
into it, to lie there ready for use at the moment of action. A definite
time should be set apart when the mind can be withdrawn from other
thoughts and compelled to give all its attention to this matter. On
first waking, or just before going to sleep. If one is not too tired-one
can usually best get away from the distracting details of life. The
resolutions should be written down, with the most important words or
phrases underlined, to serve as catchwords and mottoes. They should
be read aloud and repeated from memory, as well as thought over silently,
thus adding visual and auditory images to the mental concepts. In
meditating upon them one's thoughts should not be allowed to wander
too far, but must be constantly referred to the definite numbered
resolutions. The use of symbols, of colors, etc, will readily occur
to any one who goes into this matter with lively interest. Always repeat
the resolutions with the greatest possible emphasis and enthusiasm,
so as to carry them away ringing in the mind. Remember that the
astonishing results of hypnotism and mental healing are due simply
to the complete possession of the mind by the new idea.

(2) ITERATION. The oftener the mind is fixed upon the resolution and
its motives, the more deeply will they become engraved in it. Sometimes
one determined concentration will carry the day; but if this quick
assault does not win the victory a long-continued siege can do it.
By hammering away continually at the same spot the requisite impression
will finally be made. A momentary rehearsal of the resolutions may
be made a hundred times a day, in passing; and immediately before the
time for execution, if it can be foreseen, forces should be rallied,
even if only by an instantaneous flash of determination. Above all,
one should not be discouraged and stop trying; for every renewed effort,
even if showing no reward in success, produces its exact and unfailing
effect. Keeping everlastingly at it is as necessary for success in
morals as in everything else.

(3) ASSERTION. The more vigorously we assert our power to keep our
resolutions the more likely we are to do so. It is largely lack of
confidence in ourselves that paralyzes us. The religions have realized
the need of inspiring hope and confidence in their converts by
preaching the necessity of faith.

The faith we need is not necessarily faith in any supernatural help,
but only in the demonstrated fact of the possibility of controlling
our own minds and morals by going at it in the right way. But we must
not passively wait for faith to possess us, we must grasp it, cleave
to it, assert it. We must repeat our resolutions always with the
conviction that we are really going to carry them out. We must picture
ourselves at the time of temptation, with the triumphant thought of
how splendidly we are going to worst the Devil, and never for a moment
think or talk of ourselves as likely to forget or yield. Such
persistent assertion, even if there is a background of distrust that
we cannot wholly banish from our minds, will greatly help. Whatever
we may think about the ethics of belief as applied to supernatural
things, the "will to believe" in our own power is certainly legitimate
and important. [Footnote: The important problem of the ethics of belief,
as applied to religious matters, has not been discussed in this volume.
The present writer hopes to discuss it fully in a later volume, to
be called Problems of Religion.] Various accessoriesand safeguards.
The dogged and hearty practice of auto-suggestion,
whether in the secular form above outlined, or in the warmer and more
satisfying form of prayer, is sufficient to keep a man master of
himself and above the reach of whatever temptations he recognizes and
chooses to resist. But there are various other furtherances to self-
control that may be briefly suggested.

(1) The method of "turning over a new leaf" is of the utmost value
to minds of a certain type. To declare a definite break with the old
life, a fresh beginning, unstained and full of hope, often gives just
the extra impetus that was needed. We are weighted by the memory of
our failures, we live in the shadow of the past, and easily slide into
a hopelessness and sense of impotence which a mere dogged persistence
cannot overcome. New Year's Day, a birthday, any change in place or
manner of life, may well be made the occasion for a bout of "moral
house-cleaning," which will give a new enthusiasm and vitality to our
better natures. The essential thing in such cases is to look out for
the first tests, and not allow a single exception to the new
resolutions. A slight lapse, that seems inconsequential, may serve
to check the new momentum; as La Rochefoucauld says, "It is far easier
to extinguish a first desire than to satisfy all those that follow
in its train."

There is, however, a real danger in this method, of a discouragement
and demoralization resulting from the collapse of enthusiastic hopes.
And there is the further danger that a man will excuse indulgence in
such hours of discouragement, on the ground that he is going to turn
over another new leaf to-morrow and might as well have a good fling
to- day. It is well to remember the truth that Martineau expressed
by his apt phrase, "the tides of the spirit." "But, alas," Stevenson
puts it, "by planting a stake at the top of the flood, you can neither
prevent nor delay the inevitable ebb." After all, in most of our moral
warfare, "it's dogged as does it." "He that stumbles and picks himself
up is as if he had never fallen."

"We cannot kindle when we will The fire which in the heart resides;
The spirit bloweth and is still, In mystery our soul abides. But tasks
in hours of insight will'd Can be through hours of gloom fulfill'd."

If we do try the abrupt break, it is of the utmost importance to
utilize every opportunity for the carrying out of the new program,
to hunt up occasions while the will is strong and the courage high.
One actual fulfillment of a resolution is worth many mental rehearsals.
And when the enemy is repulsed by this charge with the bayonet,
vigilance must not be relaxed, lest he return to take us unawares.
[Footnote: I cannot forbear including, in this connection, the admirable
remarks of William James (Psychology, vol. I, pp. 123-24): "The first
[maxim] is that in the acquisition of a new habit, or the leaving off of
an old one, we must take care to LAUNCH OURSELVES WITH AS
STRONG AND DECIDED AN INITIATIVE AS POSSIBLE. Accumulate
all the possible circumstances which shall reinforce the right motives;
put yourself assiduously in conditions that encourage the new way;
make engagements incompatible with the old; take a public pledge,
if the case allows; in short, envelop your resolution with every aid you
know. This will give your new beginning such a momentum that the
temptation to break down will not occur as soon as it otherwise might;
and every day during which a breakdown is postponed adds to the
chances of its not occurring at all. "The second maxim is: NEVER
SUFFER AN EXCEPTION TO OCCUR TILL THE NEW HABIT IS
SECURELY ROOTED IN YOUR LIFE. Each lapse is like the letting
fall of a ball of string which one is carefully winding up; a single slip
undoes more than a great many turns will wind again. The need of
securing success at the OUTSET is imperative. Failure at first is apt
to dampen the energy of all future attempts, whereas past experience
of success nerves one to future vigor. It is surprising how soon a desire
will die of inanition if it be NEVER fed. "A third maxim may be added to
the preceding pair: SEIZE THE VERY FIRST POSSIBLE
OPPORTUNITY TO ACT ON EVERY RESOLUTION YOU MAKE,
AND ON EVERY EMOTIONAL PROMPTING YOU MAY EXPERIENCE
IN THE DIRECTION OF THE HABITS YOU ASPIRE TO GAIN. It is not
in the moment of their forming, but in the moment of their producing
MOTOR EFFECTS that resolves and aspirations communicate the
new 'set' to the brain."]

(2) It is an excellent thing to do a little gratuitous spiritual
exercise every day, just to keep in training, to get the habit of
conquering impulse, of doing disagreeable things. Nothing is more
useful to a man than that power. We must not let our lives get too
easy and our wills too soft. To jump out of bed when the whistle blows,
instead of dawdling just for a minute more in indolent comfort, to
make one's self take the cold bath that is abhorrent to the flesh,
to deny one's self the cigar or the candy that may not be in itself
particularly harmful-by some means or other to keep one's self in
the saddle and riding one's desires, may enable one when some
crisis comes to thrust aside a man too fatally accustomed to doing
things in the easiest way.

(3) Discretion is sometimes the better part of valor. Besides
strengthening our own wills, it is wise to seek in every way to remove
temptation from our path, and, if need be, to run away from it. We
must keep away from situations that experience warns are dangerous
for us, however innocent they may be to others. If a man find that
dancing, or the theater, arouses his passionate nature, it may be better
to avoid it entirely till his hypersensitive state is normalized. Always
alcoholic liquors are to be avoided; they cloud the reason and the
will, and let impulse loose. Always overexcitement and overfatigue
are to be avoided. "The power to overcome temptation," Jane Addams
writes, "reaches its limit almost automatically with that of physical
resistance."

(4) We must follow Bossuet's advice not to combat passions directly
so much as to turn them aside by applying them to other objects. Our
emotional nature is a gift of the gods; the sinner might have been
a saint if his emotions had only been enlisted under the right banner.
Something good to love, to work for, and think about, something that
can arouse our whole nature and relieve it from suppression, is the
best antidote to morbid desire. It is sometimes alleged that it is
better to satisfy a passion than to keep it pent up within the
organism. But satisfying a wrong passion not only brings its inevitable
unhappy consequences, to one's self and to others, it makes it far
harder to resist the passion again, when it recurs. The only safe
outlet is one that leads into right conduct; under skilful guidance
all passions can be transmuted into valuable driving forces and allies
of morality.

(5) Even if one seems to be playing a losing game, one can still keep
up the fight. One can spoil one's enjoyment in self-indulgence or
selfishness; one can refuse to give in all over. This minority
representation of the better impulse will suffice to keep it alive
in us; and when the revulsion from sin comes we shall be in better
shape to make the fight next time. A hundred failures need not
discourage; some of the greatest men have gained the final ascendancy
over their weaknesses only after a long and often losing struggle.
The case is hopeless only for the man who stops fighting.

Self-control is the measure of manhood. It is the most important thing
in the personal life. And it is within the reach of any man who can
be brought to understand the mechanism where through it can be attained.
It remains true that it is best attained through religion, which
utilizes the power of prayer, of faith, the enthusiasm of a great cause
and motive, and the comradeship and help of others engaged in the same
eternal war with sin. But religion, to be efficacious, must be not
passively accepted, but USED. Its help comes not to him who saith
"Lord, Lord!" but to him who earnestly seeks to do the will of the
Father. J. Payot, Education of the Will. H. C. King, Rational Living,
chap. VI, sec. III; chap. X. W. James, Psychology, vol. I, pp. 122-27;
vol. II, pp. 561-79. W. E. H. Lecky, Map of Life, chap. XII. A. Bain,
The Emotions and the Will, part II, chap. IX. L. H. Gulick, in World's
Work, vol. 15, p. 9797. Bossuet, Connaissance de Dieu et de Soi meme,
chap. III, sec. 19. St. Augustine, Confessions, book VIII, chap. V.
Janet, Elements de Morale, chap. X, sec. 3. W. L. Sheldon, An Ethical
Movement, chap. X. A. Bennett, The Human Machine, chaps. I-V. O. S.
Marden, Every Man a King.

CHAPTER XXII

THE ATTAINABILITY OF HAPPINESS

WE have now discussed the more recurrent problems of the individual,
and pointed out the salient duties that private life entails. But there
remains something to be added before we shall have clearly pointed
the way to personal happiness. "Mere morality," even when coupled with
good fortune, is not enough; a sinless man, scrupulous to fulfill the
least command of the law, may yet be anxious, restless, depressed,
unsatisfied. We need more than morality, as the word is commonly used;
we need religion - or something of the sort. There is no doubt that
for the attainment of a pervasive and stable happiness there is nothing
so good as the best sort of religion; but, as in discussing self-
control, we must here steer clear of religious controversy and phrase
what we have to say in the colder terms of "mere morality." And though
there will be a great loss in feeling, in persuasiveness and unction
thereby, there will be gain in clearness. It is possible to express
in the drab tones of morality the profound insights which have made
religion the great guide to happiness; and even the man who deems
himself irreligious may, if he takes to heart these more prosaic counsels,
find something of the peace that has been the boon of true believers.

The threefold key to happiness:

I. HEARTY ALLEGIANCE TO DUTY.

The one thing above all others that makes
life worth living is the utter devotion of the heart and will to the
commands of morality. To throw one's self whole-heartedly into the
game, to play one's part for all it is worth, transforms what were
else a grim and unhappy necessity into a glorious opportunity. The
happy man is the loyal man, the man who has taken sides, who has
enrolled himself definitely on the side of right and tastes the zest of
battle. He has something to live for, and something lasting. He has
put his heart into a cause that the limitations and accidents of life
cannot take from him, he has laid up his treasure in heaven, where
moth and rust doth not corrupt or thieves break through and steal.

Any cause, any ambition, any great endeavor that can stir the blood,
and give a life direction, purpose, and continuity of achievement,
has the power to rescue life from ennui, from emptiness, and give it
positive worth. But most ambitions pall in time, and many a cause that
has taken a man's best energies has come to seem mistaken or futile
with the years. There is only one great campaign which is so eternal,
so surely necessary, so clear in its summons to all men, that the heart
can rest in it as in something great enough to ennoble a whole life.
That is the age-long war against evil, the unending summons to duty,
the service of God. Once a man learns this deepest of joys, nothing
can take it from him; whatever his limitations, however narrow his
sphere, there will not fail to be a right way, a brave way, a beautiful
way to live. There is comradeship in it; in this common service of
God - or of good, if we must avoid religious terms - we stand shoulder
to shoulder with the saints and heroes of all races and times, with
all, of whatever land or tongue, who are striving to push forward the
line, to make the right prevail and banish evil. Every effort, every
sacrifice, has its inextinguishable effect; in his moral conquests
a man is no longer an individual, he is a part of the great tide that
is resistlessly making toward the better world of the future, the Kingdom
of God. The great Power in the world that makes for righteousness is
back of him, and in him; in no loyal moment is he alone. . . .
Inevitably the tongue slips into religious language in dealing with
these high truths; but nonetheless are they scientific truths, matters
of plain every day observation.

The essential point is, that it is not enough to obey the Law; we must
ESPOUSE the Law, clasp it to our bosoms, love it, and give ourselves
to it utterly. We must - to use the pregnant words of James "base our
lives on doing and being, not on having"; base our lives solidly upon
it, so that everything else is secondary. The pleasures of life are
well enough in their time, but they must not usurp the chief place
in a man's thought.[Footnote: Cf. J. S. Mill, Autobiography, p. 142:
"The enjoyments of life are sufficient to make it a pleasant thing,
when they are taken en passant, without being made a principal object.
The only chance is to treat, not happiness, but some end external
to it, as the purpose of life."] His first concern must be to keep
true, to play the game; he must seek first the Kingdom of God and His
righteousness, if he would have these other things added unto him.
He must lose his life his worldly interests, his dependence upon
ease and luxury, and even love if he would truly find it. In a hundred
such phrases from the Great Teacher's lips one finds the secret. More
baldly expressed, it comes to this, that only through putting the main
emphasis upon doing the right, obeying the call of duty, only through
the courageous attack and the giving of our utmost allegiance, can
we keep a positive zest in living, exorcise the specter of aimlessness
and depression, and lift ordinary commonplace life to the level of
heroism. Blessed is the man whose DELIGHT is in the law of the Lord.

II. HEARTY ACQUIESCENCE IN OUR LOT.

The fighter, for whatever cause, can bear the blows that come as
a part of the battle; if a man has put his heart into living by his ideal,
he is immune from the disappointments and irritations that beset man
upon a lower level. But it is well to take thought also for this side of
the matter, to cultivate deliberately the spirit of acquiescence in the
inevitable pain and losses of life. Many of the sweetest pleasures
are by their nature uncertain or transient; these we must hold so
loosely that, while not refusing to enjoy their sweetness, we are
]ot dependent upon them and can let them go without losing sight
of the steady gleam that we follow. However dear to us are the people
we love, and the material things we own, we must keep the underlying
assurance that if they be taken from us life will still bring us in other
ways renewed opportunities for that loyalty to duty, that faithful living,
which is after all the end for which we live. We must count whatever
comes to us, whether sweet or bitter, as the conditions under which
we serve, the material with which we have to work, the stuff which
we have to "try the soul's strength on." For there is no way to be
armor-proof against unhappiness but by seeing to it that our hearts
are not set on anything but doing or being; nothing else is reliably
permanent amid the fitful sunshine and shadow of human life. "Make
hy claim of wages a zero; then hast thou the world at thy feet."
[Footnote: In Maeterlinck's Measure of the Hours, he speaks of a
sundial found near Venice by Hazlitt with the inscription, Horas non
numero nisi serenas and quotes Hazlitt's remarks thereon: "What a
fine lesson is conveyed to the mind to take no note of time but by its
benefits, to watch only for the smiles and neglect the frowns of fate,
to compose our lives of bright and gentle moments, turning always to
the sunny side of things and letting the rest slip from our imaginations,
unheeded or forgotten."] This necessity of detaching the heart from
dependence upon uncertainties found extreme expression in the
various historic forms of asceticism and monasticism. Such a running
away from the world does not satisfy our age, with its eagerness for
life and life more abundantly; if it escapes the poignant sorrows it
cannot happiness, or make life better for others. But we may well
take to heart the half-truth taught by the hermits and monks of the
past. We may be "in the world," indeed, but not "of it"; we, too,
may make no claims upon life, while putting our hearts into playing
our own part in it well. The writings of Epictetus and Marcus Aurelius
are full of passages that express the gist of the matter, such as the
following: "It is thy duty to order thy life well in every single act; and
if every act does its duty as far as is possible, be content; no one is
able to hinder thee so that each act shall not do its duty. But something
external will stand in the way? Nothing will stand in the way of thy
acting justly and soberly and considerately. But perhaps some of thy
active powers will be hindered? Well, by acquiescing in the hindrance,
and being content to transfer thy efforts to that which is allowed,
another opportunity of action is immediately put before thee in place
of that which was hindered." What is this but saying in other words
that not in having lies our life, but in doing and being. Not even
in succeeding, we must remember; and this is perhaps the hardest part
of our lesson. It is one thing to bear with serenity those blows of
fortune against which we are obviously defenseless; it is another thing,
when there seems a chance for averting the disaster, when our whole
heart and soul are thrown into that effort, to await the outcome with
tranquility, to bear failure without complaint. The "might have been's"
and the "perhaps may yet be's" are the greatest disturbers of our peace.
To use our keenest wits for attaining what seems best, to use our utmost
persuasion for protecting ourselves from the selfishness and stupidity
of others, and then if we fail, if the fair hope slips from our grasp,
if the thoughtlessness or cruelty of men prevails against us, to smile
and attack the next problem with undaunted cheerfulness, requires,
indeed, to attain to that level may well be called "the last infirmity
of noble minds." For the very concentration of life upon doing and
being carries with it the danger of staking happiness upon the success
of the doing, the attainment of the ideals. We must count even the
stupidity and impulsiveness of our own mental make-up as among the
materials we have to work with, and not allow remorse for our own part
in past failures to interfere with the joyful earnestness with which
we attack the problems of the eternal present. We may, indeed, often
succeed, and that may be a very great and pure joy to us; but we are
not to count upon success; or, to put it another way, we are to think
of the real success as lying in the dauntless renewal of the effort
rather than in the show of outward result. "To have often resisted
the diabolic, and at the end to be still resisting it, is for the poor
human soldier to have done right well. To ask to see some fruit of
our endeavor is but a transcendental way of serving for reward." This
is not pessimism, it is the first step toward a sound and invulnerable
optimism. We must recognize once for all that this world is not the
world of our dreams, and cease to be so pathetically surprised and
hurt when it falls short of them. Were we to be rebellious at life
for not being built after the pattern of our ideals there would be
no limit to our faultfinding. We may, indeed, long in our idle hours
with Omar "To grasp this sorry scheme of things entire, shatter it
to bits-and then Remould it nearer to the heart's desire!" But in our
daily life a braver and saner attitude befits us; for it is not in
such an ideal world but in the actual world that we have to live. Evils
there are in it and will yet be-why we cannot tell and need not know;
the only alternative we have is to take them cheerfully or gloomily,
to rebel or to accept the situation. Our duty then is clear. To face
the events of life as they come to us, without discouragement or dismay,
to laugh at them a little and learn to carry on our lives through them
with steadfast heart and smiling face- surely that is the part of wisdom
and of true manliness. The ugly things in life seem much less formidable
when thus boldly faced than when we try to shut our eyes to them,
with the consequent disillusion at their continual reappearance.
Confess frankly the faults of life and it becomes tolerable, is even
in a fair way to become lovable. For after all, when its obvious
imperfections do not blind us to its good points, it is a dear old
world we live in, and the healthy minded man loves it, as he
loves his friends in spite of their faults loves it, and finds it a
world gloriously worth living in.

III.
HEARTY APPRECIATION OF THE WONDER AND BEAUTY IN LIFE.

Finally, when we have our great purpose in life, and have overcome
the fear of pain and loss, we must learn to see and appreciate the
beauty of the world we live in. The man who refuses to be downed by
trouble is in a condition to enjoy each bit of good fortune that comes
to him, to welcome each as a pure gift or addition to life, and to
know that gifts of some sort or other will always come. Holding all
things with that looser grasp that is ready to let them go if go they
must, he can relish the good things of life the more freely for not
having counted on them, as he can the more freely admire the virtues
of his friends for not having expected them to be perfect. He can feel
the beauty of the world without being dependent upon it, not looking
for mortal things to be immortal or human things to be ideal, but
whole-heartedly enjoying today what he has today and tomorrow what
he shall have to-morrow. The things he cannot have at all, instead
of spoiling his happiness in what he has, will rather add to it by
forming another dimension of the actual, full of beautiful visions
and glorious possibilities. And meantime the real world, of events
that actually occur, will not fail, in spite of its flaws and rebuffs,
to bring him ever-fresh delights. Let no one minimize these delights.
There is more beauty, more interest here in this mundane existence
of ours, more inspiration, more inexhaustible possibility of enjoyment
than the keenest of us has dreamed of. We need some sort of shaking
up to rouse us to the beauty of common things- the freshness of the air
we breathe, the warmth of sunshine, the green of trees and fields and
the blue of the sky, the joy in exercise of brain and muscle, in reading
and talking and sharing in the life of the world; and in such daily
things as eating at the family table when we are hungry, or a good
night's sleep when we are tired. We need some teacher like Whitman
to open our eyes to the beauty not only of flowers but of leaves of
grass, to the picturesqueness and significance of so dull a thing as
a ferryboat; or like Wordsworth, with his picturing of homely country
scenes and events, with his emotion at the sight of the sleeping city-
"a sight so touching in its majesty." This sense of the meaning of
common things floods most of us at one time or another, and we see
what in our blindness we have been overlooking. Go without your
comfortable bed for a while, your well-cooked food, your home, friends,
neighbors, and you will discover how rich you have been. Your mother's
face hinted by some stranger in a foreign land will some day overcome
you with the realization of the comfort of her love; and unless you
are a crabbed egotist the life of your fellows can furnish you with
endless pleasures. It is not necessary to own things to enjoy them;
our interests and enjoyments may well overlap and include those of
our friends and neighbors, and even those of strangers. The smile of
a happy child, a friend's good fortune a sunrise or moonlit cloud-strewn
sky, should bring a pure gladness to any one who has eyes to see and
heart to feel. We must "Learn to love the morn, Love the lovely working
light, Love the miracle of sight, Love the thousand things to do."
[Footnote: These lines are Richard Le Gallienne's. Cf. also Matthew
Arnold's lines: "Is it so small a thing To have enjoyed the sun, To have
lived light in the spring, To have loved, to have thought, to have done,
To have advanced true friends and beat down baffling foes? The sports
of the country people, A flute note from the woods, Sunset over the sea;
Seed-time and harvest, The reapers in the corn, The vinedresser
in his vineyard, The village girl at her wheel. . ."] The true lover of
beauty will not need to seek forever-new scenes and objects
to admire. He will find that which can feed his heart in the clouds
of morning, the blue of noon, or the stars of night. One graceful vase
with a flower-stalk bending over to display its drooping blossoms,
will fill him with a quiet happiness; the merry laughter of a child,
the tender smile of a lover, the rugged features of a weather beaten
laborer, will stir his soul to response; a few lines of poetry remembered
in the midst of work, a simple song sung in the twilight, a print of
some old master hanging by his bedside, a bird-call heard at sunset
or the scent of evening air after rain, may so speak to his spirit
that he will say, "It is enough!" It is not the number of beautiful
things that we have that matters, but the degree in which we are open
to their influence, the atmosphere into which we let them lead us.
Our hearts must be free from self-seeking, from regret, from anger,
from restlessness. The vision comes not always to the connoisseur,
comes to him whose life is simple, earnest, open-eyed and openhearted.
In the pauses of his faithful work he will refresh his soul with some
bit of beauty that tells of attainment, of peace, of perfection. That
is a proof to him of the beauty in the midst of which he lives,
inexhaustible, hardly discerned; it carries him beyond itself into
the ideal world of which it is a sample and illustration; unconsciously
during the duties of the day he lives in the light of that vision,
and everything is sweetened and blessed thereby.

Can we maintain a steady under glow of happiness?

Happiness--happiness sufficient to make life well worth living is,
for most men at least, at most times, a real possibility. To be won
it has but to be sought vigorously enough. It is to be sought,
however, not primarily by changing one's environment but by
changing one's self; not by acquiring new things, but by acquiring
a new attitude toward things; not by getting what could make one
happy, but by learning to be happy with what one can get. THE
KINGDOM OF HEAVEN IS WITHIN YOU! This is not merely a
moralist's theory, or an empirical observation; it is a scientific fact.
We may restate the matter in psychological language by saying
that happiness and unhappiness are responses of the organism
to its environment, reactions upon a stimulus, our attitude of
welcome or dissatisfaction toward the various matters of our
experience. True, we often think of the quality of pleasantness
as inhering in the things we enjoy, and speak of troubles and
sorrows as objective. But this is only a shorthand way of describing
experience. In reality the pleasure we feel in eating when we are
hungry or in seeing a friend we love is something added to and
different from the taste sensations, or the complex visual perceptions
and memory images the friend arouses in us. So a cutting or burning
sensation, the thought of a friend's death, or of our failure, on the one
hand, and our unhappiness thereat on the other hand, are two distinct
things, closely bound together in our minds but separable.

The separation is, indeed, difficult to bring about, because the age
long struggle for existence has made unhappiness at physical pain
and pleasure at the healthy exercise of our organs or satisfying of our
appetite instinctive and immediate, that we may avoid what is harmful
to life and pursue what is useful. All our cravings and longings and
regrets have this biological value; they are the machinery by which
nature spurs us on to better adjustment to the conditions of life.
And in learning to do without the spur we must learn not to need it.
Discontent is better than laziness, remorse better than callous
selfishness, suffering under extreme cold better than recklessly
exposing the body till it is weakened. But as soon as we have reached
that stage of rationality where we can choose the better way and stick
to it without the stinging goad of pain, the pain is no longer
necessary and we may safely learn to weed it out.

A few blessed souls we know who have learned the secret, who go about
with perpetually radiant face and take smilingly the very mishaps that
worry and sadden the rest of us. To some extent this may be merely
a matter of better nerves, of less sensitive temperament, of more
abounding vitality; but there are many of the weakest and most
sensitive among those who have learned that better way; they can turn
everything into happiness as Midas turned everything into gold. It
is surprising, looking through such a one's eyes, to see how full life
is of delight. Yet in the same situations there may be room for endless
complaint if "every grief is entertained that's offered." It all
depends on the attitude taken. In trouble one man will fall to
fretting, while another does what can be done and then turns his
thoughts to something else; in discomfort one will lower the corners
of his mouth and feel wretched, while the other finds it all vastly
amusing; one will have his day quite spoiled by some disappointment
which the other takes as a mere incident; one will find the same
environment dull and stupid which the other finds full of interest
and opportunity; and so out of like conditions one will make an unhappy,
the other a happy life. [Footnote: Cf. "In journeying often, in perils
of waters, in perils of robbers, in perils by mine own countrymen,
in perils by the heathen, in perils in the city, in perils in the
wilderness, in perils in the sea, in perils among false brethren, in
weariness and painfulness, in watching often, in hunger and thirst,
in fasting often, in cold and nakedness . . . yet always rejoicing!"
"Rejoicing in tribulation" even, because to the brave man every
obstacle and failure is so much further opportunity for courage and
contrivance, for matching himself against things. "Human joy," writes
the author of the Simple Life, "has celebrated its finest triumphs
under the greatest tests of endurance." The Apostle Paul is but one
of many who have welcomed each rebuff, and proved that if rightly taken
life almost at its worst can be transmuted by courage into happiness.]
This, then, is the philosophy of happiness in a nutshell: PUT YOUR
HEART INTO DOING YOUR DUTY; DEMAND NOTHING ELSE OF
LIFE THAN THE OPPORTUNITY TO DO YOUR DUTY; ENJOY
FREELY AND WITHOUT FEAR EVERYTHING GOOD AND
BEAUTIFUL THAT COMES IN YOUR WAY.

To acquire and keep this attitude of mind requires of course resolution
and persistence. We must rouse ourselves and take sides. We must
definitely pledge ourselves once and for all to happiness; and if we]
cannot at a leap attain to it, we must still remember that we have
committed ourselves to that side. We must pretend to be happy,
throw aside all complaining and sighs and long faces; whatever
comes, we must remember that we are on trial to preserve our
buoyancy, our power not to be downcast. We shall not be able]
to disuse our habit of unhappiness at once. But if we stick to
our colors and refuse to add to whatever depression masters
us by brooding upon it and giving it right of way; if we remember
the conditions of happiness stated above, and thrust resolutely
from us all thoughts and words incompatible with living according
to them, the unhappiness will be gone before we know it. It is a
well-known psychological law that if we choke the expression
of an emotion, we shall presently find that we have smothered the
emotion itself. It may seem like hollow pretense at first, but it will pay
to pretend hard; when we have pretended long enough, we shall find
we no longer need to pretend. There will always be those, no doubt,
who will declare it impossible, and they will continue to be unhappy;
there will be many others who will concede the possibility of it, but will
not have the determination and persistence to effect it; but there will
always be some who will say, "Happiness is possible!" who will set
out to get it, and who will get it, as they will deserve to. Some men
are born happy, some seem to have happiness thrust upon them,
but some achieve happiness. It will not be the same kind of happiness
that we had as children, before the shocks of life awoke us. It will be
a happiness that meets and rises above pain. Life will always have its
tragedies, sickness and separation, pain and sudden death. They are
the common inheritance of mankind. But it is not these things in
themselves that make life unendurable, it is the way we take them,
our fear of them, our worry over them, our longings and rebelliousness,
our magnifying and brooding over and shrinking from them; when we resolve
to lift our heads and assert our power, we shall find life tragic,
yes, but endurable, and full of a deep joy. The little worries and
disappointments will cease to trouble us. And the same attitude that
enables us to rise above them will, when more staunchly held, lift
us over the great sorrows also, and keep alive in us an under glow
of joy. An under glow of joy-that is what can be found in life in any
but its highly abnormal phases, by conforming to its conditions and
taking it for what it is, stuff which, we have to shape into service
to the ideal. It should be recognized as the final word of personal
morality that a man must train himself to a happiness that is independent
of circumstances. We need no mystical painting out of the shadows,
no blindness to facts, only a will to serve the right, a readiness
to accept the imperfect, and eyes to see the beauty that surrounds
us. "If I have faltered more or less In my great task of happiness,
If I have moved among my race And shown no glorious morning face,
If beams from happy human eyes Have moved me not; if morning skies,
Books" and my food, and summer rain, Knocked on my sullen heart in
vain. If, in short, we have not disciplined ourselves to happiness,
it may well be maintained that we have left undone our highest duty
to our neighbor and ourselves. And he may with good reason declare
that he has solved the greatest problem of life who can proclaim with
Tolstoy, "I rejoice in having taught myself not to be sad!" or with
the Apostle Paul, "I have learned in whatsoever state I am therein
to be content." Much of the secret of happiness is to be found in
Epictetus and Marcus Aurelius  and, of course, in the Gospels. Of
modern writers, among the most useful are Stevenson and Chesterton.
See, for example, Stevenson's Christmas Sermon, and J. F. Genung's
Stevenson's Attitude toward Life. Chesterton's counsels are too
sattered to make reference practicable.

See also C. W. Eliot, The Happy Life. C. Hilty, Happiness. P. G.
Hamerton, The Quest of Happiness. P. Paulsen, System of Ethics,
book m, chap, n, sees. 3, 6; chap, iv, sees. 1, 2. H. C. King, Rational
Living, chap, x, sec. iv. J. Payot, Education of the Will, book iv, chap.
iv. A. Bennett, The Human Machine, chaps, VI; Mental Efficiency,
chap. ix. In Royce's Philosophy of Loyalty, Roosevelt's Strenuous
Life, and Gannett's Blessed be Drudgery, we get valuable notes;
and Carlyle has many, especially ID the latter chapters of Sartor
Resartm.

PART IV

PUBLIC MORALITY

CHAPTER XXIII

PATRIOTISM AND WORLD-PEACE

THE goal of personal morality is reached with the adoption of that
mode of life that leads to the stable and lasting happiness of the
individual. Such a happiness necessarily presupposes relations of
kindness and cooperation with those other persons that form the
immediate environment. But it is quite compatible with a neglect of
those wider aspects of duty that we call public morality. The Stoics,
the anchorites, some communities of monks, and many a well-to-do
recluse today, are examples of those who have found a selfish happiness
for themselves without taking any hand in forwarding the general
welfare. Yet the greatest total good is not to be attained in any such
way; if man is to win in his inexorable war with a hostile and grudging
environment, men must march EN MASSE, must work for ends that lie
far beyond their personal satisfactions, for the welfare of the State and
posterity. It is these larger, public duties that we must now consider.
And it is here that our greatest stress must be laid; for these
obligations are too easily overlooked, and toward them the contemporary
conscience needs most sharply to be aroused. The first great public
problem, historically, is that of war. And theoretically it may well
come first, since the attainment of peace is the prerequisite of all
other social advance. While a nation's energies are absorbed in war,
nothing, or nearly nothing else can be done. So we turn to a
consideration of war; and first, of that emotion, patriotism, whose
training and redirection must underlie the movement toward universal
peace.

What is the meaning and value of patriotism?

Matthew Arnold began his famous American address on Numbers by
quoting Dr. Johnson's saying, "Patriotism is the last refuge of a
scoundrel." We must admit that to certain forms of it the gibe is
pertinent. But in its essence, patriotism is that most useful of
human possessions, an emotion that turns a duty into a joy. It is
necessary for men, however burdensome they may find the obligation,
to be loyal to the interests of the State of which they are members.
But the patriot feels it noburden; he loves his country, and serves
her willingly, as his privilege and glad desire. To be conscious of
belonging to a social group, whose interests are regarded as one's
own, to mourn its disasters and rejoice in its successes, and give
one's hands and brains without reluctance, when needed, to its
service- that is patriotism. For the individual, its value is that
it widens his sympathies, gives him new interests, stimulates his
ambition, warms his heart with a sense of brotherhood in common
hopes and fears; the "man without a country" is, as Dr. Bale's story
graphically depicted, like a man without a home; the "citizens of
the world," who voluntarily expatriate themselves, miss much of the
tang of life that is tasted by him who keeps his local attachments
and national loyalty. For the State, its value is that it welds men
together, softens their civil strife, lifts them above petty
jealousies, rouses them to maintain the common weal against all
dangers, external and internal. Especially in view of our hybrid
population is it necessary to stimulate patriotism, by the
celebration of national anniversaries, the salutation of the flag in
the public schools, and whatever other means help to enlist the
emotions on the side of civic consciousness. But while seeking to
foster patriotism, for its great potentialities of good, we must
guard diligently against its lapse into forms that are really
harmful to the community which it avowedly serves. Like every other
great emotion, it needs to be controlled, developed along the lines
of greatest usefulness, directed into proper channels. How should
patriotism be directed and qualified?

(1) Patriotism must be rationalized, so as to be an enthusiasm for
the really great and admirable phases of the national life. Instead
of a pride in the prowess of army and navy, of yachts or athletes,
it should become a pride in national efficiency and health, in the
national art, literature, statesmanship, and educational system, in
the beauty of public buildings and the standards of public manners
and morals. It should think not so much of defending by force the
national "honor," as of maintaining standards of honor that shall be
worth defending. There may, indeed, still be occasions when we can
learn the truth of the old Roman verse, Dulce et decorum est pro patria
mori; but the newer patriotism consists not so much in willingness
to die as in willingness to live, for one's country-to take the trouble
to study conditions, to vote, and to work for the improvement of
conditions and the invigorating of the national life. The real
anti-patriots are not the peace-men, but the selfish and unscrupulous
money-makers, the idle rich, the dissolute, the ill-mannered, all those
who put private interest or passion above the public weal, help to
weaken national strength and solidarity, and bring our country's name
into disrepute.

(2) Patriotism must not merge into conceit and blind
self-satisfaction. The superior, patronizing air of many Americans,
their insufferable boasting and dogmatism, does more, perhaps, to
prejudice foreigners against us than any other thing. We must teach
international good manners, a becoming modesty, a generosity toward
the prejudices of others, and a recognition of our own shortcomings.
The blind patriotism that will not confess to any fault, that shouts,
"Our country, right or wrong," leads in the direction of arrogance,
wrongdoing, and dishonor. We must be free to criticize our own
government; we must have no false notions about national "honor" such
as were once held concerning personal "honor" in the days of dueling.
We shall doubtless be in the wrong sometimes; we must welcome
enlightenment and try to learn the better way. Apologizing is sometimes
nobler than bluster; and he is no true lover of his country who seeks
to condone, and so perpetuate, her errors.

(3) Patriotism must not imply a hatred of, or desire to hurt, other
countries. The sight of one great civilization seeking to injure
another is the shame of humanity. For in the end our interests are
the same; we should not profit by Germany's loss any more than
Connecticut would gain by injury to Vermont. Jingoism, contempt of
other peoples, and purely selfish diplomacy, are sinful outgrowths
of patriotism. We must learn to be fair and good-tempered, to appreciate
the admirable in other nations, to thrill to their ideals, and banish
all suspicious, sneering, or hypercritical attitudes toward them. It
is a pity that the mass of our people get their conceptions of foreign
peoples and rulers so largely through newspaper cartoons and caricatures,
which emphasize and exaggerate their points of difference and inferiority
instead of revealing their power and excellence. It is a stupid
provinciality that conceives a distaste for foreigners because of their
alien manners and to us uncouth language, their different dress and
habits. As a matter of fact, they feel as superior to us as we to them,
and on the whole, perhaps, with as good a right. No one of the nations
but has some noble ideals and achievements to its credit; if we do
not appreciate them, we are thereby proved to be in need of what they
have to give. And underneath these usually superficial differences,
we are all just men and women, with the same loves and hatreds, the
same needs, the same weaknesses and repentances and aspirations. If
we realized our common humanity, we should try to treat them as we
should wish to be treated by them; the Golden Rule, the Christian spirit,
the method of reason and kindness, is as applicable to international
as to inter-personal relations. We should not be too sensitive to the
trivial breaches of manners, the intemperate words and selfish acts
of neighbor-nations, but make allowances and preserve our
good-fellowship, as we do in our personal life. We should beware of
letting our own patriotism lead us into like misconduct. Above all,
we must refuse to let it lead us into the lust of conquest; we must
respect the rights and liberties of other peoples, keep strictly to
our treaty obligations, honor less the patriots who have inflamed
national hatreds and led us to battle against other peoples than those
who have wrought for their country's righteousness and true honor,
and let it be our pride to stand for international comity and good
will. A question that may properly be discussed here is whether it
is permissible to shift patriotism from one country to another. Such
a change of loyalty is, in times of war, called treason, and naturally
evokes the resentment of the deserted side. Even as impartial judges,
we are properly suspicious of such action, as denoting a vacillating
nature, devoid of the true spirit of loyalty, or as indicative of a
selfishness that follows its own personal advantage. And so far as
that suspicion is well founded, we must condemn the traitor. But
certainly, if a man experiences a sincere change of conviction, he
should not be required to continue to serve the side that he now feels
to be in the wrong; every man must be free to follow his conscience,
even if it leads him to disavow his own earlier allegiance. Suppose
Benedict Arnold to have developed a sincere conviction that the American
revolutionists were in the wrong, and that the true welfare of both
America and Britain lay in their continued union. In such a case he
must, as a conscientious man, have transferred his allegiance to the
Tory side. So a man who has been a worker for the saloon interests,
who should become convinced of the anti-social influence of the liquor
trade, would do right to come over to the anti- saloon side and work
against his former associates. The really difficult question lies
rather here: may such a man use for the advantage of the cause he now
serves the knowledge he gained, the secrets entrusted to him, the power
he won, as a worker for the opposite cause? If Benedict Arnold was
a sincere convert to the British cause, did he do right in trying to
deliver West Point into their hands? Or are we right in execrating
him for his attempted breach of trust? May the former saloon-worker
use his inside knowledge of the saloon men's plans, and his familiarity
with the business, to help the cause to which he has transferred his
allegiance? The two cases may be closely parallel; but each will
probably be decided by most people according to the side upon which
they stand. An impartial judgment will, perhaps, condemn all breaches
of faith, all use of delegated power for ends contrary to those for
which the power was delegated, including secrets deliberately
entrusted, but will not condemn the use for the new cause of knowledge
gained by the individual's own observation, or influence won through
the power of his own personality.

What have been the benefits of war?

War has not been an unmitigated evil. In fairness we must note the
following points:

(1) In spite of its danger, and its pain, war has been a great
excitement and joy to men. Tennyson is doubtless true to life in making
Ulysses exclaim "All times I have enjoyed Greatly, have suffered
greatly. . . And drunk delight of battle with my peers, Far on the
ringing plains of windy Troy. How dull it is to pause, to make an end,
As though to breathe were life!"

In the Iliad, indeed, we read: "With everything man is satiated, sleep,
sweet singing, and the joyous dance; of all these man gets sooner tired
than of war." In primitive times, and even, though decreasingly, in
modern times, the cause of war has lain not merely in the ends to be
attained thereby, but in the sheer love of war for its own sake-the
quickened heartbeats, the sense of power and daring and achievement,
the joy in martial music and uniforms, in the rhythmic footsteps of
marching men, in the awakened thrill of patriotism, the love of effort
and sacrifice for a cherished cause.

To some extent this primitive lure of war still persists. But,
fortunately, the glory and excitement of hand-to-hand conflict, the
picturesque valor and visible achievement of earlier battles, are now
gone. The soldier is but a cog in a machine, usually at a considerable
distance from his enemy. He does not know whether his shot has hit
or not; if he is wounded it is by an invisible hand. All the strain
and fatigue and pain of war remain, but little of its glory and delight.
Moreover, whatever normal satisfaction has been found in war can be
had, as we shall presently note, in other ways- in all sorts of
generous rivalries and useful as well as exciting endeavors that are
open to the modern man.

(2) War has necessitated discipline, organization, courage, self-
sacrifice, and has thus been a great stimulus to virtues which to some
extent have carried over into other fields. It has kept men from
sinking into inertia or mere pleasure seeking, fostered energy and
hardihood, quieted civil strife, taught the necessity of union and
justice at home. The patriotism awakened by struggle against a common
enemy has often persisted when the conflict was over, given birth to
art and history, and many an act of devotion to the State.
But national solidarity and a regime of justice within the State are
now our stable possession, while the hardier and heroic virtues can
be awakened in other and less disastrous ways. War has ceased to have
its former usefulness as a spur to personal and social morality.

(3) Wars of self-defense have often been necessary, to preserve goods
that would have been lost by conquest; as when the Greeks at Marathon
repelled the barbaric hordes of Asia, or when Charles Martel and the
Franks checked the advance of the Saracens at Tours. Offensive wars,
even, may have been necessary to wipe out evils, such as slavery or
the oppression of neighboring peoples. But in modern times the moral
justification of war on such grounds has usually been a flimsy pretext;
and certainly the occasion for legitimate warfare is becoming steadily
rarer. Nearly always the good aimed at could have been attained without
the evils of war. If the American colonies had had a little more
patience, they could have won the liberty they craved without war and
separation from the mother country-as Canada and Australia have done.
If the United States had had a little more patience and tact and
diplomacy, it is probable that Cuba could have been saved from the
intolerable oppression of Spain without war. Now that the moral
pressure of the world's opinion is becoming so strong, and the Hague
tribunal stands ready to adjust difficulties, there is seldom excuse
for recourse to brute strength. The real cause of war lies far less
often in the moral demand that prefers righteousness to peace than
in the touchiness, selfishness, and resentments of nations, or their
desire for glory and conquest.

(4) War has, directly or indirectly, been the means of spreading the
blessings of civilization. Alexander's campaigns brought Greek culture
to the Eastern world, the Roman conquests civilized the West, the
famous Corniche Road was built by Napoleon to get his troops into
Italy, the trans-Siberian railway, the subsidized steamship lines of
modern nations, the Panama Canal, owe their existence primarily to
the fear of war. But today all lands are open to peaceful penetration;
missionaries and traders do more to civilize than armies. And if the
building of certain roads and railways and canals might have been
somewhat postponed in an era of stable peace, many more material
improvements, actually more imperative if less spectacular, would
certainly have been carried out with the vast sums of money saved from
war expenditures. Whatever good ends, then, war may have served in
the past, it is now superfluous, a mere survival of savagery, a relic
of our barbaric past, a clear injury to man, in ways which we shall
next consider.

What are the evils of war?

(1) We need not dwell on the physical and mental suffering caused by
war; General Sherman's famous declaration, "War is hell!" sums the
matter up. Agonizing wounds, pitiless disease, the permanent crippling,
enfeeblement, or death of vigorous men in the prime of life, the
anguish of wives and sweethearts, the loneliness of widows, the lack
of care for orphans-it is impossible for those who have not lived through
a great war to realize the horror of it, the cruel pain suffered by
those on the field, the torturing suspense of those left behind. It
is, indeed, a sad commentary on man's wisdom that, with all the distress
that inevitably inheres in human life, he should have voluntarily
brought upon himself still greater suffering and premature death.

(2) But the moral harm of war is no less conspicuous than the physical.
It fosters cruelty, callousness, contempt of life; it kills sympathy
and the gentler virtues; it coarsens and leads almost inevitably to
sensuality. After a war there is always a marked increase in crime
and sexual vice; ex-soldiers are restless, and find it hard to settle
down to a normal life. There is a permanent coarsening of fiber. Even
the maintenance of armies in time of peace is a great moral danger.
The unnatural barrack-life, the requisite postponement of marriage,
the opportunity for physical and moral contagion, make military posts
commonly sources of moral contamination. Prostitution flourishes and
illegitimacy increases where soldiers are quartered; the army is a
bad school of morals.

Add to this indictment the stimulus to national hatreds caused by war,
the inflaming of resentments and checking of international good will.
Frenchmen still nourish a bitter animosity against the Germans for
the possession of Alsace and the occupation of Paris. The instinctive
racial antipathies of the Balkan peoples have been immeasurably
deepened by the recent wars on the peninsula. The eventual brotherhood
of man is indefinitely postponed by every war and by every rumor of
war.

The interest in war also takes attention and effort away from the
remedying of social and moral evils; it is useless to attempt any moral
campaign while a war is on. Jane Addams tells us, in Twenty Years at
Hull House, that when she visited England in 1896 she found it full
of social enthusiasm, scientific research, scholarship, and public
spirit; while on a second visit, in 1900, all enthusiasm and energy
seemed to be absorbed by the Boer War, leaving little for humanitarian
undertakings.

(3) A less obvious, but even more lasting, evil is that caused by the
loss of the best blood of a nation. In general, the strongest and best
men go to the field; the weaklings and cowards are left to produce
the next generation. The inevitable result is racial degeneration.
The decline of the Greek and Roman civilizations was doubtless in large
part due to the continual killing off of the best stocks, until the
earlier and nobler breed of men almost ceased to exist. The effect
of modern war is the exact opposite of that of primitive war, where
all the men had to fight, and the strongest or bravest or swiftest
survived; strength and valor and speed avail nothing against modern
projectiles, and it is the stay-at-homes who are selected for survival,
in general the weakest and least worthy. War is the greatest of
dysgenic forces, and undoes the effect of a hundred eugenic laws.

(4) The vast and increasing expense of war is a very serious matter
for the moralist, because it means a drain of the resources that might
otherwise be utilized for the advance of civilization. The cost of
a modern war goes at least into the hundreds of millions of dollars,
and any great war would cost billions. Every shot from a modern sixteen
inch gun costs approximately a thousand dollars! Add to this direct
cost the indirect costs of war, not reckoned in the usual figures-the
loss of the time and work of the hundreds of thousands of able-bodied
men, the economic loss of their illness and death, the destruction
of buildings, bridges, railways, etc, the obstruction of commerce,
the paralysis of industry and agriculture, the ravages and looting
of armies, the maintenance of hospitals and nurses, and then, finally,
the money given in pensions.[Footnote: The recent Balkan war is reckoned
to have cost nearly half a million men killed or permanently disabled,
a billion and a half dollars of direct] Add further the cost of the
expenditure, besides many billions of indirect expense. The colossal
European war just beginning as these pages go to press bids fair to
cost immeasurably more aintenance of armies upon a peace-footing-the
feeding and clothing of the men, the building and maintenance of barracks
and forts, of battleships and torpedo boats, of guns and ammunition,
automobiles, aeroplanes, and the increasing list of expensive modern
military appurtenances. Europe spends nearly two billion dollars a year
in times of peace on its armies and navies-money enough to build four
or five Panama canals annually. The entire merchant marine of the world
is worth but three billion dollars. More than this, over four million
strong young men are kept under arms in Europe, a million more workers
are engaged in making ships, weapons, gunpowder, military stores. Over
a million horses are kept for army use. This money and these men, if
used in the true interests of humanity, could quickly provide adequate
and comfortable housing for every European, adequate schooling,
clothing, and food for every one. Here is the great criminal waste
of our times. In America our waste is less flagrant, but it is steadily
increasing. We throw away money enough in these fratricidal
preparations to cover the country with excellent roads in short order,
or give every child a high school education.

In a way, however, the rapidly growing cost of war and preparation
for war is to be welcomed. For it is this that is creating, more than
all our moral propaganda, a rising sentiment against war, and will
presently make it impossible. When the German militarists became
excited over the Morocco incident in 1911, a financial panic ensued,
credit was withdrawn, pockets were touched, and a great protest arose
which did much to quench the jingo spirit. Japan was induced to sign
her treaty of peace with Russia because her money was giving out.
Turkey was unable, in the winter of 1913-14, to renew war with Greece
for the Aegean Islands, because she could not raise a loan till she
promised peace. The growing international financial network, and the
revolt of the taxpayers against the incessant draining of their
pocketbooks, promise a change for the better in European militarism
before very long.

What can we do to hasten world-peace?

There are powerful forces, which without our conscious effort are
making for the abolition of war: its growing cost; the extension of
mutual knowledge, through the newspapers and magazines, through travel,
through exchange professorships and Rhodes scholarships and all
international associations; the growing sensitiveness to suffering;
the spread of eugenic ideals; and the increasing interest in worldwide
social, moral, and material problems. But the epoch of final peace
for man can be greatly accelerated by means which we may now note.

(1) We may stimulate counter-enthusiasms to take the place of the
passion for war. After all, the great war of mankind is the war against
pain, disease, poverty, and sin; the real heroes are not those who
squander human strength and courage in fighting one another, but those
who fight for man against his eternal foes. The war of man against
man is dissension in the ranks. We must make it seem more glorious
to men to enlist in these humanitarian campaigns than in the miserable
civil wars that impede our common triumphs. [Footnote: Cf. Perry, Moral
Economy, p. 32; "War between man and man is an obsolescent form of
heroism. . . . The general battle of life, the first and last battle,
is still on; and it has that in it of danger and resistance, of
comradeship and of triumph, that can stir the blood." And cf. President
Eliot's fine eulogy of Dr. Lazear, who died of yellow fever after
voluntarily undergoing inoculation by a mosquito, in the attempt to
learn how to stay the disease: " With more than the courage and]
Further, we should awaken interest in innocent devotion of the soldier,
he risked and lost his life to show how a fearful pestilence is
communicated and how its ravages may be prevented."] excitements and
rivalries-in sports, in industrial competition, in missionary
enterprise. A world's series in baseball, or an intercollegiate
football season, can work off the restless energies of many thousands
who in earlier days would have lusted for war. The revival of the
Olympic games was definitely planned as a substitute for war. And men
must have not only excitements and rivalries, but real difficulties
and dangers-something to try their courage and endurance and train
them in hardihood. For this we have exploration and mountaineering,
the prosecution of difficult engineering undertakings, the attacking
of corruption and the achievement of political and social reforms.
[Footnote: Cf. W. James, "The Moral Equivalent of War" (in Memories
and Studies), p. 287: "We must make new energies and hardihood's continue
the manliness to which the military mind so faithfully clings. Martial
virtues must be the enduring cement, intrepidity, contempt of softness,
surrender of private interest, obedience to command, must still remain
the rock upon which states are built. The martial type of character
can be bred without war. The only thing needed henceforward is
to inflame the civic temper as past history has inflamed the military
temper."]

(2) We may spread popular knowledge of the evils of war. It is
incredible that this barbarous method of deciding disputes could be
continued if the people generally had a lively realization of its cost
in pain, money, and degradation. Already many societies exist for the
diffusion of literature on the matter, [Footnote: And of course for
other work in the direction of peace. The oldest such organization
in this country is the American Peace Society. The Association for
International Conciliation, founded in Paris by Baron d' Estournelles
de Constant, in 1899, has branches now in all the important countries.
Lately we have Mr. Carnegie's endowments for international peace]
conscientious editors of journals and newspapers use their columns
for peace propaganda, public schools teach children the evils of war,
ministers use their pulpits to denounce it. All this, effort must be
pushed in greater degree until a general public sentiment is aroused
that will insist on the peaceful settlement of all international
difficulties.

(3) Indirectly, too, education and association can make war more and
more unlikely. We can create a greater knowledge of and sympathy with
other nations. We can to considerable extent train out pugnacity, quick
temper, resentfulness, and train in sensitiveness to suffering,
sympathy, breadth of view. All such moral progress helps in the war
against war. We can encourage the interchange of professors and
scientists between countries, increase the number of professional and
industrial international organizations. The International Socialist
party, with its threatened weapon of the general strike against war,
may actually prove to be- whether we like it or not the most efficient
of all forces. The International Federation of Students (Corda ratres),
founded at Turin in 1898, with its branches in all civilized countries,
may be of great use. A censorship of the press to exclude all
jingoistic and inflammatory utterances may at times be necessary. It
is even questionable whether uniforms and martial music ought not to
be banished for a while, until the habit of peaceful settlement becomes
fixed.

(4) Politically, we must make our public policies so high and unselfish
that other nations cannot justly take offense. Most wars are provoked
by national greed or selfishness, lack of manners, or the breaking
of treaty obligations. The United States, it must be confessed, has
to some extent lost the respect and trust of other nations for its
high- handed methods and disregard of treaties. Congress is allowed
to modify or abrogate any treaty without consultation with the other
nation involved; and we have what many critics deem acts of grave
dishonor upon our record. [Footnote: For example, the recent abrogation
of our long-standing treaty with Russia, without her consent, which
has forfeited her friendship; or what seemed to many the violation
of our treaty-promise to England by Congress in its exemption, now
repealed, of American coastwise shipping from canal tolls. It would
be well to engrave over the entrance to the Capitol the Psalmist's
words: "He that sweareth to his own hurt and changeth not."] ways we
have needlessly offended and insulted other nations. The voter must
watch the conduct of parties and work to elect men who, refraining
from provoking other nations, will aim for peace.

(5) Practical steps in the direction of peace may be mentioned. Most
important are arbitration treaties. They must be made binding, and
made to apply to all matters; the loophole which permits a nation to
refuse to arbitrate a matter which it believes to involve its "honor"
practically invalidates the treaty altogether, as every matter in
dispute may be so construed. Alliances in which one country agrees
to help another if the latter has agreed to arbitrate a matter and
its enemy has refused, may be of great value. Treaties that guarantee
existing boundaries and bind a nation not to extend its territory are
useful, even if there is no adequate method as yet of enforcing such
guaranties. The question whether we shall increase or decrease our
army and navy is hotly disputed. The United States might well lead
the way in disarmament, since the oceans that separate us from Europe
and Asia are a better protection than forts or fleets, and no nation
has enough to gain by fighting us to make it worth the cost. With the
great European nations the case is different, and disarmament will
probably have to come by mutual agreement. The only valid reason for
an American army and navy lies in the power they give us to protect
our citizens abroad, or to protect our weaker neighbors against foreign
aggression. Perhaps until there is formed an international army and
navy, it will be necessary for the most civilized and pacific nations
to keep armed, since the less scrupulous nations would remain armed
and acquire the balance of power. But the contention that a great
armament is the best guaranty of peace is untrue, for two reasons:
it is an inevitable provocation to other nations to match it with other
great armaments; and the very existence of battleships and weapons
creates a temptation to use them. The professional soldier is always
eager to see active service, to prove his efficiency, have excitement,
win glory and advancement. As the Odyssey puts it, "The steel blade
itself often incites to deeds of violence."

(6) The ultimate solution for international difficulties must, of
course, be world organization. The beginnings of an international court
we have already, the outcome of the first two Hague Conferences, in
1899 and 1907. It must be given greater powers, and backed up by an
international executive, legislature, and police. Perhaps the police
will be the combined armies of the world put at the service of
international justice. This "parliament of nations, federation of the
world" is not a Utopian dream; it is hardly a greater step than that
by which savage tribes, or the thirteen States of North America, or
the South African and Australian States, became welded into nations.
It is to be remembered that the wager of battle was the original method
of settling private disputes; and even when trial by jury was authorized,
the older form of settlement persisted long-being legally abolished
in England only as late as 1819. Similarly, the peaceful settlement
of international disputes will doubtless before many generations become
so universal that it will be difficult for our grandchildren or great-
grandchildren to realize that as late as early in the twentieth century
the most civilized nations still had recourse to the old and barbarous
wager of battle.

H. Spencer, "Patriotism,", " Rebarbarization" (in Facts and Comments).
G. K. Chesterton, "Patriotism" (in The Defendant). G. Santayana, Reason
in Society, chap. VII. Outlook, vol. 92, p. 317; vol. 90, p. 534.
International Journal of Ethics, vol. 16, p. 472. The American
Association for International Conciliation (Sub-Station 84, New York
City) sends free literature on request. A bibliography of peace
literature will be found in their pamphlet No. 64. E. L. Godkin,
"Peace" (in Reflections and Comments). W. James, "Speech at the Peace
Banquet," and "The Moral Equivalent of War" (in Memories and Studies').
Jane Addams, Newer Ideals of Peace, chaps. I, VII; The Arbiter in
Council. J. Novicow, War and its Alleged Benefits. N. Angell, The Great
Illusion. W. J. Tucker, The New Movement of Humanity. V. L. Kellogg,
Beyond War, chap. I. D. S. Jordan, War and Waste. R. C. Morris,
International Arbitration and Procedure. International Journal of
Ethics, vol. 22, p. 127. World's Work, vol. 20, p. 13318; vol. 21,
p. 14128. Independent, vol. 77, p. 396. Outlook, vol. 86, pp. 137,
145; vol. 83, p. 376; vol. 84, p. 29; vol. 98, p. 59. Hibbert
Journal, vol. 12, p. 105.

CHAPTER XXIV

POLITICAL PURITY

AND EFFICIENCY THE attainment of a stable peace is the first public
duty; the second is the achievement of an efficient government. Where
politics are corrupt and inefficient all social progress is obstructed;
and all such ideals of a reshaped human society as the Socialists yearn
toward must be postponed until we have learned to run the machinery
of government smoothly and effectively. The backward condition of peoples
whose government is unintelligent needs no examples. The Russo-Japanese
War brought into sharp contrast a nation of limitless resources and
fine human stock handicapped and crippled by a selfish bureaucracy,
and a much smaller nation, inexperienced and remote from the great
world currents, but strengthened and made efficient by an intelligent
and patriotic administration. In Persia and Mesopotamia we find poverty,
ignorance, desert, where once flourished mighty empires: bad government
is the cause. Greece and Italy and Egypt are struggling to recover
from centuries of misgovernment. In this country government has been
far wiser and more responsive to the community's needs; and yet the
apathy of the intelligent public and the intrusion of private greed
have distorted and obstructed legislation until social reformers throw
up their hands in despair. But there are hopeful signs. The causes
of this political mismanagement are being more generally recognized
today, and it is probable that the next few decades will witness great
strides toward improving the mechanism of American government and
banishing corruption.

What are the forces making for corruption in politics?

(1) By one means or other, unscrupulous rulers and officeholders have
always been able to replenish their private income by misuse of their
official powers. Since popular government was first tried there has
existed a class of professional politicians with little regard for
the public welfare and ready to do anything to keep themselves in power
and fatten their pocketbooks. We have in America the well-known phenomena
of the "machine," the "ring," and the "boss," whose motto is "Politics
is politics," and who are unashamed to put their interests above those
of the people at large. Their control of the machinery of government
enables them, unless ingenious provisions prevent, to wink at illegal
voting and fraudulent counting of votes, to get the dregs of the
population out to the polls, and perhaps intimidate their opponents
from voting. The police power has often been misused for such purposes;
the gerrymander is another clever method of manipulating the results
of elections. Such means, together with the use as bribe money of funds
deflected from the public treasury, the blackmail of vice, and the
acceptance of "contributions" from favored parties, create a vicious
circle which tends to keep in power corrupt officials who have once
got hold.

(2) But the power of unscrupulous politicians is made far greater by
the support of those whose personal interests they make a business
of furthering. Whole sections of the people are pleased and placated
and bribed by special legislation in their favor, and as many individuals
as possible are given positions. Behind every "boss" there are always
hundreds of men who owe their "jobs" to him, and many others who
cherish promises and hopes for personal favors. Jane Addams tells us
that upon one occasion when the reformers in Chicago tried to oust
a corrupt alderman they "soon discovered that approximately one out
of every five voters in the nineteenth ward at that time held a job
dependent upon the good will of the alderman." [Footnote: Twenty Years
at Hull House, p. 316.]

(3) Of especial importance are the great "interests" that are always
to be found behind a corrupt administration. These corporations are
so dependent upon the good will of the Government for their prosperity,
and even for their very existence, that from the primitive instinct
of self-preservation as well as from the greed of exorbitant profits,
they stand ready to give liberal bribes, or at least to back with money
and moral support the party machine that promises to favor them. They
control a large proportion of the newspapers and magazines, and are
thus able to distort facts, protect themselves from attack, and even
stir up a factitious distrust of would-be reformers. As every little
contractor naturally favors the "ring" that awards contracts to him,
so the great corporations publicly or secretly support it. The liquor
trade and the vice caterers-the keepers of gambling dens, illegal
"shows," and disorderly houses-back by their money and votes the
"machine" that they know will let them alone. But, indeed, the most
"respectable" trusts and public-service corporations are often most
culpable, and the greatest power behind the throne. Their interest
in the personnel of the Government is far keener than that of the average
citizen; they can usually succeed, by cleverly specious presentations
of the situation, in dividing the forces against them, and often, by
"deals," in effecting secret alliances of the "rings" in control of
supposedly opposing parties. The poor are right in supposing that these
powerful "interests" are their greatest enemy; as that keen observer
of our national life, Mr. Bryce, has put it, "the power of money is
for popular governments the most constant source of danger."

(4) But, after all, this combination of forces in defiance of the
common weal would not be effective but for the comparative indifference
of the people, which may thus be called a contributing factor. The
average voter feels no stimulus of self-interest in the matter; "what
is everybody's business is nobody's business," and the individual finds
his personal influence so slight that it seems hardly worth his pains
to do anything about it. Occasionally popular passions become aroused
and reform movements make a clean sweep; but the result is usually
temporary, and when the general attention is turned elsewhere the
bosses creep back to power. Modern life has so many more personal
interests in it than the ancient republics had, that public affairs
seldom become so big and absorbing an interest. And the more public
affairs become the concern of a special group of men with dubious
reputations, the more politics are shunned by the average citizen.
Home life and business, social life and amusements, aesthetic,
intellectual, and religious interests, are so much more attractive
to him, that he gives little heed to political conditions, lets himself
be duped by newspaper talk, and votes blindly some party ticket, without
realizing his gullibility and his poor citizenship.

What are the evil results of political corruption?

(1) The obvious result of these conditions is inefficiency of
administration and waste of the public moneys. The real interests of
city or State are neglected. Streets become filthy, unsanitary
tenements are built, firetrap factories and theaters allowed; every
effort to improve public health is sidetracked, and the will of the
people is subordinated to the will of the gang. Officials are nominated
or appointed not for their competence but for their subservience to
the organization; the boss himself, inexpert in administration,
responsible to no one, and usually bribable, dictates public policy.
The public funds disappear as in a quicksand; extravagant prices are
paid for building lots and contracts, in return for political support
or a share of the loot. Philadelphia before the reform movement of
1911 borrowed fifty-one million dollars in four years, and at the end
had practically nothing to show for it, with the city dirty, buildings
out of repair, and everything important neglected. One contractor in
the "ring" was paid $520,000 a year to remove the city garbage-a
privilege which is actually paid for in some cities, the value of the
garbage for fertilizer and the manufacture of other products making
the collection of it a profitable business.

(2) Another evil result lies in the subordination of general to local
interests. The scattered and ineffective "pork-barrel" appropriations
of Congress are dictated not by intelligent consideration for the
public weal, but by the desire to throw a sop to this and that section
of the country, and thereby win votes. Costly buildings are authorized
in many towns where they are not needed, river and harbor improvements
proceed at a halting pace in a hundred places at once, unnecessary
navy yards and custom houses are maintained at heavy cost, the army
is scattered at many small and expensive posts. Even the tariff is
largely a deal between various manufacturing interests, rather than
an instrument of the public good. Most officials consider themselves
bound to exert all their influence in favor of their particular
constituency's desires; if they cross those wishes they will probably
not be reelected, while if they sacrifice the interests of the people
as a whole they will be immune from punishment. Most of the state
universities, normal schools, asylums, and other institutions have
been located where they are as the result of a deal between different
sections rather than with a view to the most advantageous site.

(3) To these grave evils we must add the moral harm of selfish and
corrupt politics. Standards of honor are blurred, the spirit of public
service is almost lost sight of, and the cheap materialism to which
our prosperous age is too easily prone flourishes apace. The man who
would succeed in politics-unless he is a man of extraordinary personality
and favored by good fortune-must be disingenuous and a time-server,
must truckle to bosses and do favors for the ring; he must appeal to
prejudice and passion and put his personal advancement before his
ideals. No one can estimate the evil effect that corruption in politics
has had upon the national character. When we add the indirect effects-
the distortion of the public news-service, the protection of vice,
the insecurity of justice-the moral evils of political corruption are
seen to be of gravest importance.

What is the political duty of the citizen?

(1) In the present chaotic state of our machinery of government, where
corruption is so easy and efficiency so difficult to obtain, the burden
must rest upon every conscientious voter to play his part with
intelligence. He must study the situation, keep himself informed as
to candidates and issues, watch the conduct of officials, vote at
primaries and elections, however irksome and fruitless this effort
may seem. Above all, he must use independence of judgment, and not
let himself be duped by disingenuous appeals to "party loyalty"; where
blind party voting is prevalent there is little stimulus to party
managers to nominate able and honorable men or to promote needed
legislation. Public opinion must be kept aroused, the sense of
individual responsibility awakened, and political matters kept in the
glare of publicity. At election times whoever can spare the time
should, after learning the local situation, take some part in the
campaign, by public speaking, personal soliciting of is a shame that
the peaceable home-loving citizen should have to be dragged into this
business of politics, which ought to be
left to experts to manage; but at present there seems no help for it
in most communities.

(2) An important service lies in joining or forming local branches
of the leagues which now exist for the pushing of specific political
measures, for the investigation and publication of impartial records
of candidates, or for the investigation of the expenditures and results
of administrations. Under the first head we may classify, for example,
the National Short Ballot Organization; under the second head the Good
Government Association, that makes it its business to send to each
voter in a community a printed statement of the past history of each
candidate for office, including the record of his vote on important
matters; under the third head there are the Bureaus of Municipal
Research. The New York Bureau, incorporated in 1907, conducts a yearly
budget exhibit that shows graphically what is being done with the money
raised by taxation. Inefficiency and corruption are ferreted out, waste
is demonstrated, suggestions are made for economy, for the improvement
of administration in every detail, and the amelioration of evil social
conditions. By its determined publicity it can do much to energize
and modernize city government. [Footnote: Cf. World's Work, vol. 23,
p. 683. National Municipal Review, vol. 2. p. 48.]

(3) The outlook for clean and public-spirited young men, with expert
knowledge and ideals, who wish to enter a political career, is
gradually becoming more encouraging. The reformer in politics must
be not merely an idealist, but a man who can do things. He must show
his constituents that reform government serves them better than the
ringsters. Reform tactics have too often been negative; stopped, but
no positive measures for social welfare have been passed. To be
successful, a politician must show the people that he understands and
is able to satisfy their needs. More effective than any moral house-
cleaning in securing the tenure of an administration is its efficiency
in promoting better living and working conditions, improving
opportunities for recreation and education, or loosening the clutch
of the predatory "interests." Moreover, the politician must be a good
mixer, willing to work with those who do not share his idealism, good-
natured and conciliatory, ready to postpone the accomplishment of much
that he has at heart in order to get something done. As organization
is in most matters necessary for effectiveness, he must usually work
with a party, do a lot of distasteful detail work, and make compromises
for the sake of agreements. Happily, the Progressive party has made
an out- and-out stand for the application of morals to politics; and
the growing movement in the cities toward seeking experts to manage
their affairs gives hope that the way will soon be generally open for
men of scientific training and high ideals in political life.

What legislative checks to corruption are possible?

It is, of course, an unnatural situation when the ordinary citizen
has to spend a lot of time and effort if he would guard against being
misgoverned. He ought to be able to tend to his own affairs and leave
the machinery of government to those who have been trained to it and
whose business it is. And while no political mechanism will ever wholly
run itself, without watchfulness on the part of the people, experience
shows clearly that it is possible by a wise system to make corruption
much more difficult and more easily checked. We Americans are beginning
to awake from our complacent self-gratulation and realize that our
political machinery is clumsy and antiquated and a standing invitation
to inefficiency. The discussion of the relative advantages of
legislative schemes belongs to the science of government rather than
to ethics; but their bearing upon public morality is so important that
certain typical movements must be explained. The stages by which the
advanced form of popular government which we have now attained has
been reached need not, for our purposes, be considered-the extension
of suffrage to the masses, government by representatives, registration
laws, the secret ballot, and the like. We need only discuss several
reforms now being agitated and tried, whose aim is to make government
more responsive to the real wishes and needs of the people, and more
difficult of usurpation by selfish interests.

I. We may first speak of several reforms whose aim is to improve our
mechanism of election, in order that merit, rather than "pull," shall
lead to office, and that officials shall represent the people rather
than the political rings. It is not generally true that good and able
men are unwilling to accept public office; what they are unwilling
to do is to truckle to bosses, to do all the questionable things that
will keep them in with the ring, or to spend large sums of money in
advertising their claims to the public. So thoroughly have political
machines entrenched themselves that it is often practically useless
for any one to oppose the machine candidate. Appointees receive their
positions for "political services" rendered, or in return for a
"campaign contribution" for which they may hope to recoup themselves
when in office. To destroy utterly this political "graft" will be
impossible until human nature becomes more generally moralized; but
to render it more difficult and less common is the purpose of a number
of measures, of which we may mention the following:

(1) CIVIL SERVICE LAWS. These require appointments to
office, made by officials, to be made on the basis of competitive
examinations which shall test the ability and knowledge of the
applicants. By this means, within a generation, tens of thousands of
positions have been put beyond the reach of spoilsmen, and men of worth
have replaced political henchmen. Instead of a great overturn with
every new political regime, the man who has now fairly won his position
retains it for life, except in case of proved inefficiency. The quality
of the public service has been immeasurably improved, the subservience
of office-holders to political chiefs abolished. [Footnote: See
Atlantic Monthly, vol. 113, p. 270. National Municipal Review, vol.
1, p. 654; vol. 3, p. 316.] But there are still many thousands of offices
that have not been brought within the civil service, and there are
continual attempts on the part of politicians to withdraw from it this
or that class of appointments, that they may have "plums" to offer
their constituents. To the most important positions the civil service
method is, however, inapplicable; imagine a President having to appoint
as his Secretary of State the man who passed the best examination in
diplomacy! So many other considerations affect the availability of
a man for such posts that the elected officials must be given a free
hand in their choice and held responsible therefore to the people.
These important appointees will be enough in the public eye to make
it usually expedient for the career of the appointers that they pick
reasonably honest and able men-especially if the recall (of which we
shall presently speak) is in operation.

(2) The short ballot. As our government has grown more and more
complex, the number of officials for whom the citizen must vote has
increased, with the result that he has to decide in many cases among
rival candidates about none of whom he knows anything definitely. For
four or five offices he can be fairly expected the merits of the
candidates in the field; but to investigate or remember the relative
merits and demerits of a score or more is more than the average voter
will do. So he may "scratch" his party's candidate for governor or
mayor, but usually votes the "straight ticket" for the minor officials.
This works too well into the hands of the political machines. The
obvious remedy is to give him only a few officers to vote for and to
require the remaining offices to be filled by appointment instead of
election.

By this method, not only is the voter saved from needless confusion
and enabled to concentrate his attention upon the few big offices,
but the responsibility for misgovernment is far more clearly fixed,
and the possibility of remedying it made much easier. If a dozen state
officials are elected, the average citizen is uncertain who is to blame
for inefficiency; each official shoves the responsibility on to the
others' shoulders, and it is not plain what can be done except to
depose them all, one by one. If a governor only is elected, and is
required to appoint his subordinates, the entire blame rests upon his
shoulders. If dishonesty or misadministration is discovered, he must
take the shame; he may be recalled from office if he is not quick
enough in removing the guilty man and remedying the evil.

Further, the right to choose his own subordinates makes the work of
the chief much easier, brings a unity of purpose into an administration
which is likely to be absent when a number of different men,
simultaneously elected, perhaps representing different parties, have
to work together. The increased power and responsibility of the chief
offices attract able men, men of ideals and training, who do not care
for an office whose power is limited by that of various machine
politicians who, they know, will hamper them on every side in their
efforts for efficient administration. And, apart from this
consideration, a man able enough to win election as governor is a far
better judge of the men best fitted for the various technical duties
that fall to his subordinates than is the general public. Experience
shows that the men chosen by chiefs who are elected and held
responsible to the people are generally abler than those elected to
the same positions by popular vote.

The present movement toward a short ballot, with responsibility clearly
denned and concentrated, will doubtless do away ultimately with the
clumsy systems by which both States and cities in this country are
now governed-the two-chambered legislatures, with their inevitable
friction betwixt themselves and with the executive. This method of
checks and counter-checks was thought necessary as a safeguard against
tyranny, the bugbear of our forefathers, but is now the enemy of
efficiency and the haunt of corruption. The much simpler commission
form of government, which, originating in Galveston and Des Moines
a few years ago, has already, at date of writing, been adopted by over
three hundred cities, substitutes for the usual executive and legislative
branches a small group of elected officials - commonly five-who, with
the aid of appointed subordinates, carry on the whole business of the
city. Some such plan may eventually be adopted for states, and even
for the national government. [Footnote: R. S. Childs, Short Ballot
Principles, Story of the Short Ballot Cities. C. A. Beard, Loose Leaf
Digest of Short Ballot Charters. Free literature of the National Short
Ballot Organization (383 Fourth Avenue, New York City). C. R. Woodruff,
City Government by Commission. E. S. Bradford, Com- mission Government
in American Cities. National Municipal Review, vol. 1, pp. 40, 170, 372,
562; vol. 2, p. 661. The American City, vol. 9, p. 236. Outlook, vol. 92,
pp. 635, 829; vol. 99, p. 362. Forum, vol. 51, p. 354.]

(3) Direct primaries. Experience has conclusively shown
that the caucus system of making nominations for office plays directly
into the hands of the machine; its practical result has been that the
voter is usually restricted in his nominees of the bosses and the
"interests." The direct primary gives the independent candidate his
opportunity, and makes it more practicable for honest citizens to
determine between what candidates the final choice shall lie. It
implies effort on the part of the candidate to make himself known to
the voters; but such effort there must always be, unless the candidate
is already a conspicuous figure, in order that the citizen may have
grounds for his decision. It has in some places led to an exorbitant
expenditure for self-advertisement; but this expenditure can be pretty
well controlled by legislation. The argument that it does away with
the deliberation possible in a caucus wears the aspect of a joke, in
view of the sort of deliberation the caucus has in practice encouraged;
and discussion does, of course, take place in the public press, which
is the modern forum. It is possible, however, that some modified form
of the direct primary plan may be better still, such as the Hughes
plan, which provided for the election at each primary of a party
committee to present carefully discussed nominations for the following
year's primary to approve or reject.[Footnote: See Outlook, vol. 90,
p. 382; vol. 95, p: 507. North American Review, vol. 190, p. 1] Arena,
vol. 35, p. 587; vol. 36, p. 52; vol. 41, p. 550. Forum, vol. 42, p.
493. Atlantic Monthly, vol. 110, p. 41.

(4) PREFERENTIAL VOTING. A more radical movement would abolish
primaries altogether and settle elections upon one day by preferential
voting. The voter indicates his second choices, and any further choices
he may care to indicate. If no candidate receives a majority of first
choices, the first and second choices are added together; if necessary,
the third choices. In this way the danger, so often realized, of a
split vote and the election of a minority candidate, will be banished;
it will no longer be possible for a machine candidate, actually the
least majority of the people, to win a plurality over the divided
forces of opposition. The real wishes of the voter can be discovered
and obeyed more readily than with our present troublesome and expensive
system of double elections. [Footnote: National Municipal Review, vol.
1, p. 386; vol. 3, pp. 49, 83.]

(5) PROPORTIONAL REPRESENTATION. By means of preferential voting it
is possible to make representative bodies a mirror not of the majority
party, but of the real divisions of opinion in a community. One of
the great evils in our present system of majority rule is the suppression
of the wishes of the minority-which may amount to nearly half the
community. [Footnote: Cf. Unpopular Review, vol. 1, p. 22.] Strong
parties may go for many years without any representation, or with
representation quite disproportionate to their numbers. By the method
of proportional representation, every man's vote counts, and every
considerable body of opinion can send its representative to council.
Men of marked personality, who have aroused too great hostility to
make them safe candidates as we vote today, because they would be
unlikely to win a majority, can get a constituency sufficient to elect
them, while the harmless nobody, elected today only to avoid a feared
rival, will have less chance. The evil gerrymander will be abolished,
and representative bodies will be divided along party lines in the
very proportions in which the people are divided.

Moreover, since on this plan every vote counts, the greatest source
of political apathy will be removed-that sense of hopelessness which
paralyzes the efforts of the members of a minority party. Corruption
will hardly pay; for whereas at present the boss has but to win the
comparatively few votes necessary to swing the balance toward a bare
majority, in order to have complete control, he will upon this plan
secure control only in actual proportion to the number of votes he
can secure.

Another advantage of the system lies in the stabler policy it will
ensure. Our present system results in frequent sharp overturns,
according as this party or that may get a temporary majority. But this
battledore and shuttlecock of legislation does not represent the far
more gradual changes in public opinion. A system whereby the number
of representatives of each party is always directly proportioned to
the number of votes cast for that party would make it possible to evolve
a careful machinery of government, as is not possible with our periodic
upheavals and reversals of personnel and policy.[Footnote: See
publications of the American Proportional Representation League
(Secretary C. G. Hoag, Haverford, Pennsylvania). National Municipal
Review, vol. 3, p. 92. American City, vol. 10, p. 319. Thomas Hare,
Representation. J. S. Mill, Representative Government, chap. VII.
Political Science Quarterly, vol. 29, p. 111. Atlantic Monthly, vol.
112, p. 610.]

(6) THE SEPARATION OF NATIONAL, STATE, AND LOCAL ISSUES. The obtrusion
of national party lines into state and municipal affairs has
continually confused issues and blocked reforms in the narrower
spheres. Masses of voters will support a candidate for governor or
mayor simply because he is a Republican or Democrat, although the
national party issues in no way enter into the campaign. Bosses
skillfully play on this blind party allegiance, and many a scoundrel
or incompetent has ridden into office under the party banner. The
separation of local from national elections has proved itself a
necessity; in the most advanced communities they are now put in
different years, that the loyalties evoked by one campaign may not
carry over blindly into another. The direct election of United States
Senators has this great advantage, among others, of separating issues;
in former days the alternative was often forced upon the citizen of
voting for a state legislator who stood for measures of which he
disapproved, or of voting for a better legislator who would not vote
for the United States Senator he wished to see elected.

(7) Space forbids the further discussion of reforms that aim at
improving the machinery of election. The value of anti-bribery laws
is obvious, as of the laws that require publicity of campaign accounts,
forbid campaign contributions by corporations, and limit the legal
expenditures of individuals. [Footnote: Cf. Outlook, vol. 81, p. 549.]
The publication at public expense and sending to every voter of a
pamphlet giving in his own words the arguments on the strength of which
each candidate seeks election has recently been tried in the West.
But this is sure, that in one way or other the American people will
evolve a mechanism which will make it easier for able and honest men
to attain office than for the rogues and their incompetent henchmen.

II. A second set of reforms bears rather upon the quality of
legislation than upon the selection of men for office. It is not enough
that the way be made easy for good men to attain office; they must,
when elected, be freed from needless temptations and given every
inducement to work for the interests of the community they represent.
Every possible pressure is valuable that can counteract the pull of
sectional interests, party interests, or the interests of the great
corporations, away from the general welfare. For even the best
intentioned officials may yield to the insistence of local or partisan
wishes, to the arguments of "big business," or to the lure of personal
advantage.

(1) REPRESENTATION AT LARGE. The method of legislation by
representatives of local districts leads inevitably to laws that are
a compromise or bargain between the interests of the several districts,
rather than the result of a desire to further the best interests of
the entire community. Congressmen are continually beset by their
constituents to secure special favors for them, aldermen are expected
to push the interests of their respective wards. Each representative
stands in danger of political suicide if he refuses to use his
influence for these often improper ends; and legislation takes the
form of a quid pro quo:-"You vote for this bill which my section desires,
and I'll vote for the bill yours demands." This evil is so great that
it may be necessary eventually to do away entirely with district
representation.[Footnote: See Outlook, vol. 95, p. 759.]

(2) DELEGATED GOVERNMENT. Another plan, which evades the
pressure of local interests while allowing district representation, also
avoids the friction and deadlocks which result from government by a
group of representatives of sharply opposed parties or principles. By
this plan, a representative body is elected, by districts, or at large,
by proportional representation; but this body, instead of itself deciding
or executing the state or municipal policy, serves merely to select
and watch experts, who carry on the various phases of government.
These experts remain responsible to the representatives, who in turn
are responsible to the people. This method promises to combine
concentration of responsibility, efficiency, and business-like
government, with democracy, that is, responsiveness to popular control.
The national Congress may, for example, appoint a commission of experts
on the tariff, agreeing to consider no tariff legislation except such
as they recommend; in this way they are freed from all requests to
propose this or that alteration in the interests of their State or
one of its industries, while the commissioners, not being responsible
to any localities, are under no pressure to yield to such requests.
Similarly, the right to recommend-or even to enact-legislation on
pensions, on river and harbor appropriations, or what not, may be
delegated to an appointed body responsible only to the Congress at
large; and all the "pork-barrel" legislation, which the better class
of legislators hate, but which is forced upon them by the threat of
political ruin, may be obviated. [Footnote: Cf. the new (1914) Public
Health Council of six members, in New York State, to whom has been
delegated all power to make and enforce laws bearing upon the public
health throughout the State (except in New York City). See World's
Work, vol. 27, p. 495.] The plan of delegating power to appointed
experts has very recently been winning approval in municipal
government, where it is commonly called the "City Manager " plan.
A small body of commissioners are elected and held responsible for
the city government; these men may remain in their private vocations,
and draw a comparatively small salary from the city. Their duty is
to select an expert city manager who will receive a high salary, and
conduct personally and through his appointees the whole business of
the city. The commissioners may dismiss him if his work is not
satisfactory and engage another to take his place. Responsibility is
concentrated; mismanagement can be stopped at once, more readily even
than by the recall; unity and continuity of policy become possible;
in short, the same successful methods that have made American business
the admiration of the world can be applied to politics. If this plan
becomes widely adopted, as it bids fair to be, politics can become
a trained profession, and we can be governed by experts instead of
by politicians. [Footnote: See The City Manager Plan of Municipal
Government (printed by the National Short Ballot Organization)
National Municipal Review, vol. 1, pp. 33, 549; vol. 2, pp. 76, 639;
vol. 3, p. 44. Outlook, vol. 104, p. 887.]

(3) THE RECALL. Many of the newer plans for government include a method
by which an inefficient or dishonest official can be removed from
office by the people, without the cumbersome process of an impeachment.
It would not be wise to apply the recall to local representatives,
who would then be still more at the mercy of local wishes; but with
a short ballot and the concentration of responsibility upon executives
or small commissions who represent the community as a whole, it is
highly desirable to have a method available for quickly remedying
mistakes. The danger of being recalled from office is a salutary
influence upon a weak or a self-willed man. And the possibility of
it allows the election of officials for longer terms, which are desirable
from several points of view: they bring a more stable government, freed
from too frequent breaks or reversals of policy; they permit the
acquiring of a longer political experience, and stimulate abler men
to run for office; they save the public the bother and expense of too
frequent elections. [Footnote: See National Municipal Review, vol.
1, p. 204. Forum, vol. 47, p. 157. North American Review, vol. 198,
p. 145.]

(4) THE REFERENDUM. A less drastic instrument of popular control
over legislation is the referendum, which refers individual measures
back to the people for approval or rejection. An official may be
efficient and free from corruption, yet opposed to the general wish
on some particular matter. In this, then, he may be overruled by the
referendum without being humiliated or required to resign his office.
Thus not only the improper influence of the machine or the interests
may be guarded against by the public, but the unconscious prejudices
of generally efficient officials. Of course there is, in the case of
both recall and referendum, the possibility that the official may be
right and the people wrong. But that danger is inherent in democratic
government. The best that can be done is to make government responsive
to the sober judgment of the majority; if that is mistaken, nothing
but time and education can correct it. [Footnote: See W. B. Munro,
The Initiative, Referendum and Recall; The Government of American Cities,
p. 321. Political Science Quarterly, vol. 26, p. 415; vol. 28, p.
207. National Municipal Review, vol. 1, p. 586. Nation, vol. 95, p.
324.]

The air is full of suggestions, and experiments are being tried in
every direction. There is every hope that America may yet learn by
her failures and evolve a system of government that shall be her pride
rather than her shame. Our National Government has worked far better
than our state and local government, but even that can be further freed
from the pull of improper motives, made much more efficient and
responsive to the general will. We are in a peculiar degree on trial
to show what popular government can accomplish. The Old World looks
to us with distrust, but with hope. And though the solution of our
political problem involves many technical matters, it has deep underlying
moral bearings, and affects profoundly the success of every great moral
campaign.

R. C. Brooks, Corruption in American Politics and Life. L. Steffens,
The Shame of the Cities. J. Bryce, The Hindrances to Good Government.
W. E. Weyl, The New Democracy, chaps. VIII, IX. Jane Addams, Democracy
and Social Ethics, chap. VII. A. T. Hadley, Standards of Public
Morality, chaps. IV, V. T. Roosevelt, American Ideals. C. R. Henderson,
The Social Spirit in America, chap. XI. Edmond Kelly, Evolution and
Effort, chap. IX. W. H. Taft, Four Aspects of Civic Duty. E. Root,
The Citizen's Part in Government. D. F. Wilcox, Government by All the
People. L. S. Rowe, Problems of City Government. H. E. Deming, The
Government of American Cities. Publications of the National Municipal
League (703 North American Building, Philadelphia). Political Science
Quarterly, vol. 18, p. 188; vol. 19, p. 673;

CHAPTER XXV

SOCIAL ALLEVIATION

WHEN the security of peace and an efficient government are attained,
the way lies open for the amelioration of social evils. Freedom from
war and from political corruption are but the pre-conditions of social
advance, which must consist in three things: the healing of existing
ills, the reorganization of society to prevent the recurrence of
similar ills, and the bringing of new opportunities and joys to the
people. Our first step, then, is to consider social therapeutics-the
palliation of present suffering, the redressing of existing wrongs;
however we may seek, by radical readjustments, to strike at the roots
of these evils, we must not fail to mitigate, as best we can, the lot
of those who are the unfortunate victims of our still crude social
organization. The detailed study of social ills and their remedies
has come to be a science by itself, and a science that calls for close
attention; for there is more good will than insight a field, and
nothing demands more wisdom and experience than the permanent curing
of social sores. But it falls to ethics to note the general duties
and opportunities, to point out the responsibility of the individual
citizen for wrongs which he is not helping to right, and to direct
him to the great moral causes in one or more of which an increasing
number of our educated men and women are enrolling themselves. A
questionnaire recently sent out by the author of this book discloses
the fact that over half the college graduates of this country have
given time and money to one or more of the campaigns which are being
waged for social betterment. [Footnote: Some of the results of this
questionnaire were published in the Independent for August 5, 1913,
vol. 75, p. 348.] These evils which it is the duty of the State to
try to remedy we shall now consider.

What is the duty of the State in regard to:

I. SICKNESS AND PREVENTABLE DEATH? Physical ills are the unavoidable
lot of the human race; but by no means to the extent to which they
now prevail. A very large percentage of existing sickness and infirmity
could have been prevented by a timely application of such knowledge
as the intelligent already possess. It is the poverty, the crowded
and unsanitary living conditions, the ignorance and helplessness of
the masses, that perpetuate all this unnecessary suffering, this economic
waste, this drag on human efficiency and happiness. Not only from
humanitarian motives, but also from regard for national prosperity
and virility, it behooves the State to wage war against preventable
illness and safeguard the general health.

How shocking conditions are, in view of the sanitary and medical
knowledge we now possess, we are not apt to realize. It is estimated
that of the three million or so who are seriously ill in this country
on any average day, more than half might have been kept well by the
enforcement of proper precautions; that of the 1,500,000 deaths that
occur annually in the United States, nearly half could have been
postponed. Tuberculosis, for example, is not a highly contagious or
rapid disease; it is absolutely preventable by measures now understood,
and almost always curable in its earliest stages. Yet half a million
people in our country are suffering from it, and about 130,000 die
of it annually. Typhoid, which could readily be as nearly eradicated
as smallpox has been, claims some 30,000 victims annually. It has been
estimated by various statisticians that the nation could save a billion
dollars a year through postponing deaths, and at least half as much
again by preventing illness that does not result fatally. Tuberculosis
alone is said to cost the country half a billion annually, typhoid
over three hundred million, and so on. The cost in suffering, broken
lives, and broken hearts is beyond computation.

There are many different ways in which the campaign for public health
can be simultaneously waged:

(1) The enforcement of quarantine laws, vaccination, and fumigation,
should be much stricter than it is in many parts of the nation. By
such means the cholera, bubonic plague, and other terrible diseases
have been practically kept out of the country, and smallpox has become,
from one of the most dreaded scourges, an almost negligible peril.
Experience shows strikingly the advantage of isolating patients
suffering from contagious diseases; here at least the State, in the
interest of the community as a whole, must sternly limit individual
liberty. And it looks as if we were at the threshold of an era of
"vaccination" for other diseases besides smallpox; typhoid is now
absolutely preventable by that means, and the number of diseases
amenable to prevention or mitigation by similar methods is yearly
increasing. In some or all of these cases there is a slight risk to
the patient, in view of which compulsory "vaccination" is in some
quarters strenuously opposed. Leaving the discussion of the principle
here involved to chapter XXVIII, we may confidently say, at least,
that voluntary inoculation against diseases is an increasingly valuable
safeguard not only for the individual in question but for the whole
community.

(2) Apart from state action, voluntary organizations formed to attack
specific diseases, by spreading popular knowledge of preventive
measures, and pushing legislation for their enforcement, offer much
promise. The Anti-Tuberculosis League can already point to a ten per
cent decline in the death rate from that plague in the decade from
1900 to 1910. [Footnote: For methods and results consult the Secretary
of the National Association for the Study and Prevention of Tuberculosis,
105 East Twenty-second Street, New York City. Free literature is sent,
and information furnished on request.] But while in New York City alone
nearly thirty thousand fresh victims are seized by the disease every
year, a voluntary organization cannot hope to cope with the situation;
the power and resources of the State are needed. The congestion of
population, and the lack of proper light and air, which are the
greatest factors, perhaps, in the spread of the scourge, must be
attacked by legislation. So typhoid must be fought not only by
vaccination, but by legislation insuring a pure water supply, proper
sewage disposal, and the protection of food from contamination.
Measures necessary to eradicate that pest, the house fly, must be
enforced, the mosquito must be as nearly as possible exterminated,
streets and yards must be kept clean, the smoke nuisance abated, the
slaughtering of animals and canning of food sharply regulated, sanitary
conditions enforced in homes and factories. One of the prerequisites
to any marked improvement will be the "taking out of politics" of the
public health service and making it an expert profession.

(3) Another service that the community must eventually, in its own
interests, provide, is free medical attendance, by really competent
physicians, wherever there is need. Without referring to the suffering
and anxiety spared, the expense of this service will far more than
be saved the State in the prevention of illness and premature death.
The most careful medical inspection of school children, including
attention by experts to eyes, ears, and teeth, is of utmost importance;
all sorts of ills can thus be averted which the parents are too ignorant
or careless to forestall. [Footnote: Consult the literature of the
American School Hygiene Association (Secretary T. A. Storey, College
of the City of New York). L. D. Cruickshank, School Clinics at Home
and Abroad. Outlook, vol. 84, p. 662.] It is earnestly to be hoped
that the present chaos of medical education and practice will be soon
reduced to a better order; that practitioners who prefer manipulation
or mental healing, for example, will, instead of forming separate and
antagonistic schools, unite their insight and experience with the main
stream of scientific therapeutic effort. The quacks who delude and
murder hordes of ignorant victims must be, so far as is practicable,
severely punished; and adequate physiological and medical education
should be required for all practicing healers, whatever methods they
may then choose to employ.

(4) Besides free medical attendance, the State must pro- vide free
hospitals for the sick, nurses for the poor, asylums for those who
are incapacitated by infirmity from self-support. The care and treatment
of the feeble-minded, the insane, the deaf, the blind, the crippled,
should always be in the hands of experts; and, so far as possible,
work that they can do must be provided. With the enforcement of the
measures we have enumerated, the need of such institutions will become
much less; but at present they are inadequate in number and equipment,
too often managed by incompetent officials, and not always free from
scandal. [Footnote: Cf. C. R, Henderson, Social Spirit in America,
chap. XV.]

(5) Most important of all, perhaps, is the work that must be done to
save the babies. Approximately a third of the babies born in this
country die before they are four years old; half or two thirds of these
could be saved. Wonderful results in baby saving have followed strict
control of the milk supply and the banishing of the fly. Besides this,
mothers must in some way be given instruction in the very difficult
and complicated art of rearing infants; for many of the deaths are
due to simple ignorance.[Footnote: For methods and results in
baby-saving, consult the Secretary of the National Association for
the Study and Prevention of Infant Mortality, 1211 Cathedral Street,
Baltimore, Maryland. Also Outlook, vol. 101, p. 190. J. S. Gibbon,
Infant Welfare Centers.] Poverty, the necessity of self- support on
the part of mothers, also plays a large part; we shall consider in
chapter xxx the possibility of state care of mothers during the infancy
of their children. II. Poverty and inadequate living conditions? If
human illness can be in large measure averted by state action, poverty
can be practically abolished. The poor we have always had with us,
indeed; but we need not forever have them. There is no excuse for our
tolerance of the suffering and degradation of the submerged classes;
the causes of this wretchedness are in the main removable. The initial
cost will be great, but in the long run the saving to the community
will be enormous. Individual effort can only achieve a superficial
and temporary relief; and even the two or three hundred charity
organization societies in the country are impotent, for lack of funds
and of power, to stem the forces that make for poverty. To dole out
charity to this family and to that is unhappily necessary in our
present crude social situation; but it is not a solution. It not only
runs the continual risk of encouraging shiftlessness and dependence,
but it does not go to the root of the matter. There will always be
inequalities in wealth and room for personal gifts from the more to
the less fortunate; but the State must not be content with such patching
and palliating, but must strike at the roots of the evil. We will
consider the chief causes of poverty and their cure.

(1) The cause that bulks largest is the inadequate wages of a
considerable portion of the lowest class. It is obviously impossible
to support the average family of five in decency, not to say in health,
efficiency, or comfort, with an income of, say, less than a thousand
dollars a year, as prices go at time of writing (1914). Yet great
numbers of families at present have to exist somehow upon less, even
much less. Five million adult male workers in this country receive
less than six hundred dollars a year for their work.[Footnote: Cf.
Professor Fairchild's comments in Forum, vol. 52, p. 49 (July, 1914).]
Even when mothers work who ought to be at home tending the children,
even when children work who ought to be in school, the total income
is often miserably inadequate. Yet there is ample wealth in the country,
if it were better distributed, to pay a living wage to every laborer.
By some one of the means which we shall presently discuss, the State
must see that all laborers are well enough paid to enable them, while
they work, to support in comfort a moderate family.

(2) Involuntary unemployment is the next source of poverty. This is
due to many causes: the periodic depressions and failures of industries;
the introduction of new machinery, throwing out whole classes of
laborers; the enormous influx of immigrants and consequent congestion
in the cities of unskilled labor; lack of education, or natural
stupidity, which render some men too incompetent to retain positions.
Ignorance can be overcome by proper compulsory education laws; all
but the actually feeble-minded (who must be cared for in institutions)
can, by skillful attention, be taught proficiency in some trade. And
with a more widespread education the work that requires no skill can
be left to the hopelessly stupid. The congestion of labor in the cities
[Footnote: In February, 1914, there were reported to be 350,000 men
out of work in New York City (Outlook, March 14, 1914).] can be largely