GIFT OF oo IDEALS AND DEMOCRACY An Essay in Modernism By ARTHUR HENRY CHAMBERLAIN Formerly Dean of Throop Polytechnic Institute Editor Sierra Educational News RAND McNALLY & COMPANY CHICAGO NEW YORK By the Same Author STANDARDS IN EDUCATION THE CONTINENTS AND THEIR PEOPLE (Joint authorship) THE GROWTH OP RESPONSI- BILITY AND ENLARGEMENT OP POWER OP THE CITY SCHOOL SUPERINTENDENT BIBLIOGRAPHY OF THE MANUAL ARTS DESIGN AND CONSTRUCTION (Joint authorship) TECHNICAL EDUCATION IN GERMANY ; H. CHAMBERLAIN ZDebicatcb to my Jfatfier anb THE INTRODUCTION THE title of this book is its own best introduction. The theme should be of interest to all classes and conditions of people. The treatment is unpretentious, brief, informal. The reader who anticipates new and startling revelation in these pages is doomed to disap- pointment, but the hope is expressed that old material may appear in new relations. It is the author's purpose to recall to our minds some very common truths plain, important, neglected and in a somewhat uncommon manner lead us more fully to appreciate and apply cer- tain of the great fundamental principles that lie at the base of our social structure. That the desired point of view may be brought out, and in order to present the subject in a distinctly human rather than in a purely professional manner, it has been found convenient to be simple in form of statement and to use many illustrations drawn from personal observation or experience. Any far-reaching study of the purpose and application of ideals as the basis of democracy would seem to begin in the school. Such study and appreciation must have their foundation in education. Thorough recognition has been accorded this fact. The results of a modest attempt to interpret the biological and social forces underlying education, to evaluate their contentions, and to enlarge and make them practical for the use of the teacher will receive treatment in a subsequent volume. Of excellent books for teachers there is no lack. The present volume is intended primarily for Reading Circles, for the general reader, and for those who find the average m The Introduction book too technical in terminology, too extended in treat- ment, or too diffuse. This essay in one or another of its parts has been given before the National Education Association, National Department of Superintendence, the American Religious Education Association, the American Library Association, the California Teachers Associations, University of Colo- rado Summer Session, a literary organization, and a civic body, and the first section has appeared as a magazine article. The entire essay forms a portion of a series of lectures given at the University of California during July and August, 1911. A. H. C. THE CONTENTS CHAPTER PAGE I. IMPRESSION AND PERSONALITY ... . . . i First impressions disappointing. Familiarity tends to increase interest. Impressions deepen as knowledge grows. Mental pictures gained in childhood exceed reality. The function of apperception in the forma- tion of impressions. Completed impressions vs. added concepts. The real vs. the symbol. The mental image gradually develops. ^ Mental pictures of the unseen are formed. Experience, study, and travel produce clear concepts. Environment a determining factor in impression. First impressions most lasting. The meaning of personality. The importance of forming right habits. Conclusions. II. MEN IN THE MAKING 18 The need for higher ethical standards. The church of the past an inclusive institution. Many-sided char- acter of the sdiool. Congested city life weakens home influences; the tenement evil. Some evils confront- ing the rising generation. Moral and religious training vs. sectarianism. Chief business of the school to form character. Duties of the home not made less through increasing the responsibilities of the school. The curse of corruption. The newspaper as a menace to virtue. Commercial cleanliness necessary to last- ing success. Individual responsibility, word and act, mean more than lessons learned from a book. The need of backbone to resist temptation, corruption, and ridicule. Increasing demand for the man of character. Favorable signs of the times. III. THE NEW CENTURY'S AWAKENING 32 Hudson's lesson to humanity. The mission of modern battleships. Change and development in three cen- turies. The cost of progress. Universal peace a fundamental issue. The integrity of society demands honest men and honest nations. Provincialism in friendships means selfishness. Necessity for inter- national friendships. War the enemy of morals. The curse of the Commune and the French Revolution. The military splendor fetish. Proper moral instruction would stamp out war. Arguments favoring military drill in schools. The fallacy of things military in education. The tendency of history to glorify war. The real province of history study. Preparedness for vii mii The Contents CHAPTER PAGE war will not insure peace. Primitive man a natural warrior. Present social and civic life built upon spirit of trust and arbitration. Universal peace will result in increased morality. IV. THE CLASSICS OF INDUSTRIALISM ....... 49 The welding of industry and art. The utilitarian and the artistic. Art appreciation and progress. The truly useful is the essentially artistic. The builders and craftsmen of early days were artistic. The art- artisan vs. the machine-artisan. Art for art's sake vs. union of art and industry. Utilitarian value of the artistic. The work of Ruskin and Morris. The moral effect of use and beauty combined. Danger result- ing from machine methods; the American way. The equality of master and man. V. THE LIBRARY AS AN EDUCATIONAL FACTOR . . . .61 The value of books. The library classed with the church and the school. Elements that constitute a real library. Some interesting statistics as to library instruction. The art of book using. Students should be familiar with the library. Supplementary books and reference works. The librarian as demonstrator. Teachers and librarian cooperate. A love for good literature may be developed. The library should be drawn upon by all school departments. The location of the school library and its use as a study hall. Library bulletins, published outlines, and study topics. The selective process applied to books. The children's room. Individual interests must be considered. A wide field of reading desirable, but a few good books should be thoroughly digested. VI. OUR EDUCATIONAL INVESTMENT 81 Growing interest of laymen in schools. Parents interested in an external rather than in an internal sense. The complexity of the educational machine. In the business world investments must bring returns. The merchant and his problem. The farmer and his problem. The stock raiser's point of view. The florist and horticulturist and their contributions; Luther Burbank. The mechanical world and returns upon investment. Business men give little attention to their educational investment. The attitude of the layman one cause for the unsettled condition of the schools. Relation between education and the business world not appreciated by the layman. Duty of the parent to correct as well as to criticise. The teacher not altogether a theorist. Taxpayer not informed on educational problems. Negligence of the public re- sults in establishing factory schools. The corporation: The Contents i% CHAPTER PAGE Its lesson to teacher and layman. Interest of patron gives courage to teacher and taught. Responsibility of the teacher; cooperation must be secured. Rights of parents must be recognized. Cooperation and sal- ary increase. Duties of the teacher reviewed. Pay for the day's work. VII. A MORE EFFICIENT SCHOOL 95 Memory processes still emphasized in school. Three types of individuals the conservative, the radical, and the well balanced. Real education vs. school education. The development of modern schools. The test of an efficient school. Schools for defec- tives warrant careful study. ^ No educational standard exists. Thoroughness lacking in higher education. The beaten path still followed. Causes leading to changed conditions in society. The lesson of adapt- ability. Mis-application of modern ideas. Speciali- zation and election in school. Portions of subjects rather than entire subjects to be eliminated. Con- structive criticism more helpful than destructive criticism. A deliberate but marked educational progress. The needs of to-day. The present-day school never equaled. VIII. VOCATIONAL ADJUSTMENT 119 The apprenticeship system and non-adjustment. The manual-training high school and the trade school. Vocational training implies a guiding motive. Reasons for boys and girls leaving school. The problem of the "misfit." Necessity for adjustment to life condi- tions. Returns must come in terms of satisfaction as well as in dollars. Undue emphasis must not be given the industrial phases. Head workers as well as hand workers are misplaced. Four fundamental factors governing vocational interpretation and adjustment. The dominant interests of the child. Adjustment must begin early. The value of excur- sions. The boy studied in his play period. Economic conditions of the family. Occupational opportunities in given regions. Collecting and tabulating data. The work of advisers. The demands of the future. The course of study as consequence and result in the adjustment. The regular teacher must carry on the work. Normal and training schools and universities must offer courses. Conclusions IX. ATTAINABLE IDEALS 135 Primitive man and the simple life. Necessities of envi- ronment produce growth. Community life and evolu- tion. Past ages not prepared for democracy. Ideals: a definition, (a) Appreciation of others: Our debt The Contents CHAPTER to the past. Tolerance toward others. The measure of men. Advance in civilization increases interde- pendence. Men not self-made. (6) Equality of men: Men not rated by rank or position. A false aristocracy of birth or money. Enduring qualities furnish the yardstick of measure. The law of aver- ages, (c) Richness of labor: The ideal of labor. Idleness and crime. Roosevelt on self-dependence. Money vs. muscle. Labor as a moral influence. No true happiness without labor. Drudgery and over- work vs. labor. The nobility of work, (d) Paradise of play: Play as essential as work. The professional players are social parasites. The summer vacation mania. Unequal division of work and play. We live at an overhigh tension. Proper adjustment of play and work essential to successful living, (e) The saving sense of humor: Humor and the day's work. Humor mirrors comradeship. Humor foundations hope and cheer and the spiritual gifts. Optimism a duty. (/) The value of vision: Imagination and insight conditioned upon vision. Personalities inspired through vision. Vision necessary in the material world. The vision an idealized real, (g) Integrity and character: The ideal of honor. Selfish- ness in relation to dishonesty. Desire for wealth vs. wrongdoing. The call of the dollar difficult to overcome. A healthy nation means honest men. Business success calls for upright dealing. The effect of one man as a leavening power. Be natural. Party affiliation vs. independent thought and action. A growing public sentiment mirrors a wholesome condi- tion, (h) Service and responsibility: Good citi- zenship means service. The life of Lincoln one of service. To learn to serve is an important lesson. Mr. Stetson's Christmas Greeting Responsibility leads to service; responsibility means growth. The lesson in unity. IDEALS AND DEMOCRACY CHAPTER I IMPRESSION AND PERSONALITY MY first glimpse of the Grand Canon of the Colorado River was immediately before sunrise on a June morning. Long ago I read of the wonderful voyage of Major Powell and his Indian guides down the Colorado River, and of his many marvelous escapes: ^ature's how he plowed his way through a cut in the master- earth a mile and a quarter deep, the sides at ' ^ eces times stretching so far apart that two townships, side by side, could be dropped in, and again drawing so close together at the top that one could throw an apple across; how the canon was at the bottom in places as dark as a path cut through a dense forest; how the rocks here and there poked their heads through the river surface, inviting disaster to the boat, which many times was spun about as a chip in the turbulent eddies these facts are familiar to all who have read the narratives. I had followed the results of scientific explorations in this region, and had seen thrown upon the canvas such pictures of this natural wonder as to cause me to doubt the truth of my own eyes. The brush of the artist had shown for me such brilliancy of color, such play of light and shadow, such blending of tone and tint, as would seem possible only to the imagination. Surely Nature was overdrawn, these pictures living merely upon the canvas of a dreamer. Jj.' and Democracy But to return to my first glimpse on that June morning. I had walked to the rim of the great gash and stood look- ing across twelve miles of vacancy that found a bottom six thousand feet below, where the turbulent Colorado could but indistinctly be seen a thread of silver in a setting of bronze, the sides of the canon standing out as slices of pure color. Awed and overpowered, I stood trying to grasp the meaning of it all, and was unaware of the presence of other human beings until the silence was broken by a woman's voice. The individual in ques- tion addressed herself to no one in particular as she gazed vacantly down into the canon, and there was a distinct shade of disgust in her tone as she said: "Well, did I come away out here to see this dinky thing?" Wonder and surprise at this remark found small place in my thought at that moment. In the following days, however, as I journeyed my mind found difficulty in comprehending the attitude prompting it, second only to that of realizing the significance of those matchless sights we had been viewing. In going from Mobile to Atlanta at one time, a fellow traveler informed me that he was bored with the sights he saw and by the experiences he encountered. He explained that he had seen "everything" in Europe and the Old World, had visited every locality in the United States noted for grandeur and beauty, being only then returning from the Yellowstone Park, and assured me that nothing fully met his expectations. The descriptions he had read and the word pictures that had been painted for him were exaggerated and done in brighter colors than were to be found in the originals. In fact, he was being disappointed continually, and stood ready to admit the littleness and insignificance of every- thing that men call overpowering, and grand, and sublime. Impression and Personality 3 And now the other side. While upon one occasion in that out-of-doors paradise, the Yosemite Valley, I was privileged to converse with Galen Clark, the first white man to see the big trees of that section. Mr. Clark, a man at that time ninety-three years of age, was as enthu- siastic as a boy. He dwelt upon the marvelous works of nature; he grew eloquent over the glory of spire, and dome, and crag, and snow-capped crest. To him there was each day a new poetry in the music and beauty of the waterfall, a touch of the "Divine fire" in each suc- ceeding sunrise, and a benediction in each sunset. The trees that had stood for centuries and that were old in years when nations now in decay were pressing onward in their strength and vigor, taught him constantly new lessons of self-reliance, of firmness, of honor, of truth. They renewed his faith in his fellows and increased his reverence for the Infinite. These were the expressions of one whose life had been spent among these scenes and in such surroundings. And only twenty-four hours later there sat opposite me in a dining car a man who "knew Yosemite as he |knew Broadway." He was weary of the sights of the won- derful valley. For him its interest was gone. He had visited it often and he hoped never to see it again. Such were the verdicts of the two men. The impressions made in either case were markedly different. In an analysis of impression this problem at once presents itself. At the first sight of one of Nature's masterpieces a cataract or a mountain peak -the first hearing of a renowned opera, the first reading of an inspiring poem, the first sense of beauty or sublimity one experiences upon entering the Pantheon or in standing before the Sistine Madonna, or the first thrill that comes when from an 4 Ideals and Democracy historic battle field one pictures a nation going down to defeat or a happy people crowned with victory, is the impression gained the clearest, most vivid, let us say the fullest impression it is possible for such object, or com- position, or environment to convey? Or rather, does the impression or picture grow from day to day; does it develop or brighten, as does the negative in the pho- tographer's hands, gaining in intensiveness and exten- siveness as one's conceptions broaden and expand? The first view that first impressions are most striking would to the casual observer seem to be the logical one. It would be the common or empirical view. Con- sideration, however, will tend to the conclusion that the gradual-development view is psychologic or scientific in character. Many of you have had, if you will but recall, experiences chat will give meaning and color to the thought sug- gested. In childhood, what has been called If childhood the em P irical vi ew does without doubt hold sway. The stream that wound its way through meadow and wood seemed to our untraveled years as a veritable river in size. But returning after a long period of absence to the home where the days of our early childhood were passed, the same creek that we had pictured as a clear, fair sized, running stream is now found to be narrow and shrunken and muddy, its picturesque banks vanished as a flight of the imagination, and we can all but step across it. The bridge, too, over which we daily passed to and fro, is now diminished from a grand structure to a tiny walk. In the same way the hills have dwindled, as to us in our youth they were mountains. The first schoolhouse or the old home, once large and commodious, now takes on a wonderfully diminutive aspect. Within the house the ceilings are Impression and Personality 5 low, the staircases narrow, the rooms small. We mar- vel that the old oak at the corner of the homestead could ever have seemed to us a giant in size. The city of our youth was in reality a village, and our forest a mere grove. Altogether, our impressions of the old home and its surroundings are entirely modified over the ones previously held, and we can think ourselves back to our former mind pictures only with feelings of sadness and regret. The child mind peoples the world with giants, and everything beyond the sight is bright and wonderful, while Santa Claus is real and Independence Day longed for. These experiences are common to us all. The impressions of childhood are disappointing, or rather they appear dwarfed when maturity is reached and after the acquisition of a wider range of knowledge, when comes the ability to think one's self into the future and to take the long look in perspective. You may at once insist that the chief element in this entire problem of the impression is what is known as the doctrine of apperception. The glory and The doctrine beauty of the Yosemite, you say, and the of apper- majesty of the tree, still young in its towering ception grandeur, are part and parcel of the life of Galen Clark. They are the warp and woof of his mental machinery, are bound up in his conceptions, and go to form the mind fabric of the man. His close contact with this wonder- land; his intimate knowledge of Nature and her moods through a long series of years, have gained for him a point of view that the new observer cannot possess. The life of the Valley is his life, and because for him is the bird's song, for him the wind and the rain; because for him the river runs to the sea and the mountain peak towers to the clouds, he knows these things. They are 6 Ideals and Democracy part of himself. This intensive knowledge possessed by Galen Clark of every phase of natural phenomena as met with in his environment makes of his mind a mag- net, to which is attracted the new. He is thus able to appreciate, absorb, work over, and appropriate the new in the light of former experiences. In this manner, you say, the impression grows directly with the acquisition of knowledge and the gaining of new experiences. The lines written by Charles Wesley Kyle entitled Silence, and dedicated to the Yosemite, will illustrate: "Emotions new and strange here rise And sweep with cyclonic force the breast. A new, strange world, all powerful and sublime, Enchains, enslaves and fetters all. The greatest most of all are fettered most, Only the pigmies chatter, and fools alone Find laughter here where nature speaks In tones of grandeur and sublimity! Strong lips are dumb and eyes unused to tears Are forced to yield the highest tribute of the soul To these grand thoughts of the Eternal Mind." What meaning these lines take on for one who is famil- iar with the Valley! What must they have conveyed to Galen Clark! As a description or pen picture they bring up a throng of memory transparencies. The "grand thoughts of. the Eternal Mind" take shape in physical outline. "Only the pigmies chatter" the unobserving, the careless, the weak. But the strong, pure soul, and most of all the one shot through and through with the feeling, the poetry, the grandeur, the divinity of it all, can carry an impression approaching accuracy and completeness. To the one wholly unac- quainted with such scenes, how far from complete is the impression gained. To such, how little significance in the emotions here described. Such a mental attitude Impression and Personality 7 must be discovered to him under a similar situation before his mind can grasp their meaning. Let him but once live in the atmosphere of these nature conceptions, however, and he will read a fuller thought into these lines and translate them into values of richness and power. This same point of view is emphasized by the illus- tration of the woman at the Grand Canon. With scant experience at hand with which to compare this over- powering sight, and with no category in which to place it, its magnitude was lost upon her. Her apperceptive qualities of mind, so far as the Grand Canon was con- cerned, were nil. As an iron, heated to a high tempera- ture, may seem to the touch to have lost its heat, or as the mind crowded with fear may forget itself and turn to things opposed, so here greatness was translated into terms of the commonplace. The first view was disappointing. In any field of human experience the best results come when we present to the learner the real thing to be stud- ied, the object itself. When this is not possible, vivid descriptions, verbally or in the text, and models, photo- graphs, drawings, parts, convey the most adequate and complete ideas. According to our theory of apperception, one having seen and studied symbols and reproductions of an original should have a more adequate impression of such original than would be possible to one entirely unacquainted with its existence, and by the same token the former would have a fuller appreciation than would the latter. In the art gallery at Dresden, Germany, are many famous pictures, but there is one that appeals to all who see it, and many there are who visit the gallery with the one object in mind of looking upon Raphael's masterpiece. Well I recall my intention on first entering the gallery to view this picture, and as I walked from 8 Ideals and Democracy room to room there were preceding me a throng of men and women, silent, expectant, purposeful, each evidently intent upon a desired goal. As they passed on they reached a small room guarded by attendants. Fol- lowing, I found myself with twoscore others all the room could contain each with eyes focused and atten- tion bent upon the Sistine Madonna. It was, in a measure, as we had expected to see it. The reproductions had prepared us in part for this first sight. The color, the attitude, the expression, all were famil- iar to us, but somehow as we looked the picture took on new meaning. In the beginning our mental pictures seemed to be properly framed. We were delighted and charmed, not overpowered or amazed. Reasoning from the effect to the cause, we knew that everything was as it should be. The original tallied with our secondhand prints. When, however, the guards cleared the room to make place for others, we found ourselves loath to depart, and returned again and again to take our places before the inspiring canvas. Gradually its greatness began to grow upon us, and the negatives of our minds became composites with the many exposures, while again we grasped the whole picture less and less clearly. Repeated visits, however, or given time to recall and reflect, and the Sistine Madonna produces an impres- sion so intensive, and deep, and significant as to bear slight likeness to that which comes at first sight. It builds itself into the mind as the stones are built into the temple. The mind is, little by little, able to give adequate expression to the object as the impression grows. The mind absorbs as an animal of the lower order sur- rounds and absorbs its food. But whether you will or not, the mind reaches out and builds up concepts of the things you have not seen and Impression and Personality Q the experiences that have not been yours. If for the first time you are to journey to the mountains or the seashore, to the city or to the country; if The mind for the first time you are to visit an historic pictures spot or meet an individual of wide reputation, the unseen or a family member not known to you personally; if you are to leave the familiar school and enter an institution of learning new to you; if before you lies your initial experience in visiting a circus, or listening to grand opera, or witnessing a balloon ascension, you will in any case find if you analyze your consciousness that you have, either at the moment or at another time, formed im- pressions of these forces and faces, these scenes and circumstances impressions that may not be adequate or exact. The more knowledge you have at your com- mand, and the more similar data you have with which to compare in any particular instance, the more nearly correct will be the impressions. Some you will find to be wholly and entirely incorrect. Some appear to be exact, but are finally modified and worked over as new points rise into consciousness. Some are simply frame- works, mere skeletons, and upon these the lasting or complete impression is built up. Are now those impressions formed in the absence of the causal factors ever correct? Is it possible for one to gain an adequate impression of an object, never having seen it? It is said of Walter Scott that when he wrote Kenilworth he had never seen the castle of that name, although his descriptions of the historic structure are exact and true to fact, even to the most minute detail. But mark you, Scott must have been quite familiar with the general style of architecture of which Kenil- worth was a type. He had seen many castles. He had listened to verbal and read written descriptions of io Ideals and Democracy Kenilworth, and there was in his mind a mass of material which, when grouped in certain relationships, would allow the new conception or image to enter and locate so as to be recognized in terms of the old knowledge. The new picture was thus not only a recapitulation but a glance into the future and a prophecy. No doubt Scott, after visiting Kenilworth, found his impressions deepened and amplified. In the study of history, or literature, or biography, or commerce, or politics, new life and meaning is given Value of & the stu dent can reason from cause to first-hand effect; if he has made himself familiar through reading and illustrations, and more particularly if he is acquainted at first hand with the scenes, locations, or conditions described. If one is on speaking terms with the literature of a given school of writers, or has studied intensively the works of a single individual, he sees in the first reading of a pro- duction new to him much fuller meaning than would be the case did he come with no understanding or appre- ciation of the author's works, or with no knowledge of the author's individuality. There is a certain human element attaching to every piece of literature, and the more one knows of the life and surroundings and habits of the writer the more fully and keenly can one appre- ciate the author's point of view. Familiarity with these things would tend to enable one to gather from a page a meaning somewhat adequate to that written into it by its author. The reader will find if he visit Acadia an increased understanding of Longfellow's Evangeline, and a journey to the poet's old home will intensify and enrich impres- sions already clear. As one walks across the field at Gettysburg one feels more keenly than before the meaning Impression and Personality n of that great internal strife of a half century past, and Lincoln's Gettysburg address takes on new significance. To stand upon the wall at Old Chester and picture in imagination King Charles the First again on the same spot, helplessly watching his army going down to cer- tain defeat on Rowton Heath, is to bring before the mind a new understanding of the part played here by Cromwell in the making of history. To visit the home of the Master Poet at Stratford, to look upon the scenes that to him were familiar, to walk his streets, to float upon his river, to view his fields and woods, to dream under his sky, and to live where he lived and worked, all this ties one more clearly to the poet and to the man than would be possible without this intimate asso- ciation with Shakspere's England. To perform in one's laboratory scientific experiments, to deal with elements and compounds and to see the results grow under one's own manipulation, mean a more perfect understand- ing of physical forces, of chemical laws, of evolutionary processes than could come to one in a lifetime of mere reading or theorizing. The study of products, of raw materials, of manufacturing processes, of transporta- tion, of marketing, this leads to an understanding of commercial relations. First-hand knowledge of social conditions, of manners and customs, of governmental policies and politics, of beliefs and traditions, indicate to the careful observer how body and bent are given our motives and ideals. Such knowledge shows how out of chaos is born democracy. Another element in the equation when considering this matter of the impression is the condition under which one finds himself, the environment surrounding one. People react differently as environing conditions change. Again, temperament and nationality have much 12 Ideals and Democracy to do in determining reactions. It is a common criti- cism made upon Americans by foreigners that our citizens are not patriotic. It is urged in eonment Justification of this claim that we do not dignify our national anthem, or show sufficient reverence for the flag of our country, or give homage to the President of our republic. True it is that many an American will sit placidly in his seat while listening to the strains of The Star-spangled Banner, or seem to be unmoved at the sight of Old Glory, while in most Euro- pean countries the national air will bring to his feet every loyal subject, and the display of the national colors will find every man with his hat off at "attention." It must be recognized, however, that these are but the outward signs of patriotism. They do not necessa- rily indicate deep feeling or profound impression. They may in fact mirror only habit born of centuries of tradi- tion. The product of years and years of progress, our people have worked and suffered, planned and built; in war and in peace they have triumphed or have felt the sting of defeat; they have broadened in their views, grown more sympathetic in their feelings and more tolerant in their criticisms, until they to-day have an appreciation of the meaning and significance of real patriotism, and national honesty, and civic righteousness such as is possessed by few other peoples. "No Govern- ment of modern times," said Elaine, 1 "has encountered the dangers that beset the United States, or achieved the triumphs wherewith the Nation is crowned." But this fuller conception has come only through a careful study of conditions as they elsewhere exist and a thorough knowledge of the fate and fortune of individuals, peoples, and nations. 1 Twenty Years of Congress, Vol. II, p. 676. Impression and Personality 13 There is no doubt tnat the mipression is intensified when the surroundings are such as to tend to, rather than detract from, the centering of thought upon the focal point. As an experiment, place a dozen articles upon a table in the center of a room. Select articles in common use knife, newspaper, coin, book, watch, pencil, and the like. Try the experiment first upon a group of a half dozen persons by using a room bare as to furniture and hangings, permitting each person in turn to go into the room alone, each being allowed an equal amount of time, and on coming from the room to require each, working under a time limit, to record a list of articles noted on the table. As a second experi- ment, place another table with an equal number of common objects in a room completely furnished and proceed as in the first instance. Or try again when there is conversation in the room, or music, or other diversion. The counter attractions, the furnishings, the additional persons, all offer a bar to concentration, and the impressions gained will probably result in the recall of a fewer number of objects than in the first instance. But while experience and environment have much to do with the intensity of the impression, it is true, as previously hinted, that the first impressions have a tendency to be more lasting. It is also true that impres- sions gained in early years, when the mind is pliable and plastic, are more readily retained than those coming at a later day, although the subsequent or built-up impres- sions are more perfect and accurate and inclusive. You frequently say, in speaking of an individual, "My first impression of him was correct; he is, as I first made up my mind, lazy or studious, courteous or ill-bred, cultured or illiterate, reserved or loquacious, dignified or unconstrained. Closer acquaintance only confirms my 14 Ideals and Democracy first impression." When carried too far, however, this doctrine leads to "jumping to conclusions." The open- minded will always be ready to revise the impression in the light of newer revelation. Now the crucial point in this entire matter of the psychology of the impression is to be found in the char- acter of individuals what we may speak Personality , .. -. ,., JL . . of as personality. Personality is something that cannot be defined; it is the you as you. Personal- ity, if taken from the individual, would render all men of a like type. Personality makes progress possible. It is that which has built school and church and state and the other great institutions, and working through them gives back the best to the life of the people. Thus is laid the foundation for all real democracy. The personality that counts means openmindedness, culture, poise, balance, contentment, generosity, responsibility; it means service for others; it means the optimistic mind, sound judgment, and clear vision. The man or the woman, the student or the teacher with strong per- sonality will trust first impressions only as they come through an unbiased and unprejudiced mind. One must always be ready to accept new truth and thus modify the impression. He who would progress must understand it is a mark of progress to be willing to dis- card old theory for accepted practice. He must look at things in a perfect perspective. That great naturalist, John Burroughs, once told the writer that his volume descriptive of his Alaskan trip is in some manner the most unsatisfactory bit of writing he has done, and that the reason for this lies in the fact of the short time spent in Alaska and the consequent lack of opportunity given him to observe and ponder and weigh. Conclusions were drawn on too few data, and Impression and Personality 15 the impressions were fixed too early. "We see through a glass darkly." With longer contact the "light shines more and more unto the perfect day." The implications of the foregoing are several and are of vital consequence. In a summary of conclusions, the value of proper habit forming stands forth importance as of first importance. We speak of the of forming impressionistic age as that of childhood and good habits youth. Since impressions gained at this plastic period are so lasting, how important it is to see to it that the first impressions are as nearly correct as possible. Habit, although not everything, is still a great deal. Lasting impressions mean the forming of habits, good or bad, that remain through life. As each additional performance of an act tends to make each succeeding repetition of the act easier than the last, care must be exercised lest we make habitual those acts that will weaken rather than give strength, and that tear down rather than build up. If the impression at first is one around which character may be built, the individual has nothing to unlearn, and progress is rapid and sure. We further conclude that the mind cannot at first gain adequate impressions or a complete knowledge. Just as man is a developing organism physically, so may we expect that added knowledge and experience will develop ability to comprehend, compare, and con- clude. The impression of to-day, which may seem complete and unified, may be in the light of to-morrow's experiences inadequate and partial. As our experiences are built into us, the impression approaches more and more the real, the actual. Another conclusion indicates that the learner can best appreciate those things that have in part been experienced, or such as possess attributes similar to i6 Ideals and Democracy those possessed by objects of past experiences. The study of the poem Snowbound by those who have never seen a snowstorm would mean comparatively Impressions influenced by little. A lecture on orange culture would experience CO nvey less meaning to an Eskimo than to a Californian. If lessons are so planned as to indicate a logical connection one with another, presenting those things that articulate naturally with what has gone before, much of the vagueness and indefiniteness in our present teaching would disappear. The impressions are thus deepened by looking upon the subject from many points of vantage, just as the magnitude of the Califor- nia big trees is more fully comprehended after one has viewed them from a distance, studied them at close range, ridden and walked around them, and measured them with a tape. It must also be remembered that in childhood there are comparatively few experiences, so that those coming to the immature mind may ofttimes prove more vivid than would be the case later. In the schools of a half century past there were few books and few subjects. These were worked over and over and well digested. While the imaginative power of the child should be cultivated as an aid to vivid conceptions, care must be exercised lest the work become so superficial and quan- titative as to lack in real value. Finally, our conclusions lead us to note that just as individualities differ, so will impressions gained from the same original differ with each individual. One will see in terms of color, another in terms of form; one gathers impressions mainly through one particular sense, and one through another. To expect like results from all is to disregard the element of individuality. The common saying, "We get out of a thing in Impression and Personality if proportion as we put into it," contains more than a modicum of truth. In other words, those who put most into the mill carry most away. To produce a democracy we must have men strong men, n of* id/all determined men, men unselfish, farsighted, alert, sympathetic, incorruptible. Such are the men of personality. As the man, so the society of which he is a part. A chain is as strong as its weakest link. Soci- ety does not necessarily or entirely exist for its members. Men who wear their obligations all too lightly are those in whom impressions have not produced personality. One's first duty is toward his family, but if a man seek wealth, or patronage, or applause for selfish ends or to satisfy ambition, if he gain friendships only that these may prove useful in a commercial way, he is not the good citizen. The ideal personality will produce the real democracy. In this age of competition and push and progress, where time seems such a vital element, it is an economic and social necessity to judge quickly and sanely and surely. If "snap" judgments quire rapid prove to be false judgments, harm will J* sane result. The swift march of events does not always admit of the cautious and plodding method. The man must train himself to judge not with haste but with dispatch, and his impressions must be regis- tered, passed through the clearing house of his mind, catalogued, and conclusions drawn therefrom so as to reach decisions instantly. Whether the impression be of a book or a man, of an act or an object, the mind should be so attuned and adjusted as to receive new impressions willingly, to work them over analytically, and to hold to them tenaciously only until other and further knowledge makes change or modification desirable. CHAPTER II MEN IN THE MAKING THERE has never been a time in the history of the world when there was manifest a greater need for high ideals, for lofty aspirations, for deep ethical insight than to-day. Not that this country is sunk in immoral- ity and disbelief and dishonor. But never, h^gh /deals so full y as at P resent has the sordid s P irit of commercialism had such a grip on men and women, young and old, rich and poor. The clouds of greed and gain have been gathering, and what was once in the financial world considered a crime is now often interpreted in terms of keen manipulation or sharp business practice. Competition has sharpened the wits and has at the same time too often dulled the moral sensibilities. Modern invention, the application of scientific principles to the arts and industries, improved methods of transportation, of manufacture, of home keeping, have lessened responsibility among the rank and file. Ambition to possess the material things of this world and to be reckoned as wealthy as our neighbor has led to high living, extravagant dress, costly accesso- ries. Men of small means speculate, gamble, default, and are punished. Men of large means are doing these things constantly, and too often go unpunished. And because morality seems to go unrewarded and deception and corruption in high places is for the moment victo- rious, false notions prevail in the minds of the unthink- ing. How shall adjustment be made? 18 Men in the Making ip In the past the church attempted to do its own work and be home and school as well. The church was respon- sible for the inculcation of religious beliefs * . - figenciKS vn for the setting of moral standards, for character laying the foundations of the intellectual building life, for developing the physical side of the individual, and often even for teaching the elements of a trade, vocation, or profession which was to be followed in later life. But however effectively the church did its work in times past, the economic develop- . , The church ment of the country and the social evolution of our people are now such as to render it entirely unable to cope single handed with the problem of character building. Indeed, as we now look back upon the work of the church, we see how inadequately it performed the task assigned it in any day and generation. Again, we find the school endeavoring to be church, home, and school combined. To note this condition, it will not be necessary to hark back to _. , . . , . . 2 he school ancient history. Indeed, in many localities to-day the school is the only medium of moral instruc- tion with which the child comes in contact. Church and Sunday school are unknown to him; his life at home is that of the street and the cellar, and the few hours spent at school with his teacher are in such small proportion to the total number of waking hours during the year 1 as to render impossible such teaching as is necessary. All thinking people agree in a general way as to the purpose of education, whether received in the home, at school, or in the church. They do not, however, all agree as to the most important factors involved in a real edu- cation, or as to the best methods of procuring results. 1 About one seventh in the upper grammar grades. 2O Ideals and Democracy Some want the training of the boy and the girl to be for life, but they do not tell us in what life consists, or what constitutes the best in life. Some wish to train for citi- zenship, and to many, citizenship means earning a living and voting a particular ticket on election day. Others desire such training as will produce intelligent or cultured members of society. These statements are both indefi- nite and inadequate. The home is and should be the center for character building, but the crowded condition in cities, the unwhole- some surroundings, the unhygienic environ- The home , 1 1 < . 1 ment, the ignorance and privation of those in the crowded tenement districts all this serves to coun- teract and sometimes overbalance the advances made in the more favored localities. Think of trying to inculcate moral precepts and essential religious teachings under conditions such as exist in every large city the country over! A score of persons living in a space large enough for two; families crowded together like sheep in a corral; hovels and tenement houses unfit for animals dark, damp, poorly ventilated stifling in summer, cruelly cold in winter; rooms in which flowers will weaken and wither; children associated with men and women who are blind to all that ennobles and enriches character. Under these conditions is it any wonder scant progress is made in the teaching of the moral virtues and in an under- standing of what constitutes the religious life? How the owner of one such set of tenements or dwell- ings with which every large city is cursed can easily offset the work of school or church is readily understood. The home, under these conditions, can offer practically no assistance in building up the moral life of the individual. Environment is such a factor for good or ill as to demand our most earnest consideration. Men in the Making 21 The school stands for culture, for knowledge, for in- formation, for technique, accuracy, and method. It trains the intellect, it energizes the mental ma- chinery, but does it give the proper moral a se momentum to the life of the boy and the girl? Go upon the streets of any city to-day and find your cheap places of amusement crowded with boys and girls. Visit your corner cigar stores, and notice boys young in years and old in sin, their time worse than wasted. Their environment is a preparatory school remarkably well adapted to the teaching of vice and crime. The shelves of your book stores are full of cheap literature, that constitutes the most carefully graded series of textbooks of which I have knowl- edge, for the information of the young on everything which they have no need or right to know, and which sears their minds and deadens their fine sensibilities. And even in the school itself, the fraternities, sororities, and secret societies are not only trouble breeders but crime incubators as well, and the sooner every elementary and high-school system in the country shall eliminate them, root and branch, the better. They draw unhappy social dis- tinctions, they engender partisan feeling and encourage the boy or girl to vote or to act as the whole body votes or acts, right or wrong. They place the so-called good of the society above that of the school or home. They teach those financially unable to do so, to be extravagant in dress and wasteful of money and time, in many instances entailing serious discomforts upon those who are responsible for their keeping. They cause many a heartache on the part of those who, on account of some inability to measure up to a false standard, are kept from the inner circle. And under the guise of good fellowship, vices are here learned and practiced 22 Ideals and Democracy that prove a menace to the whole after life of the indi- vidual. Fraternities and sororities are undemocratic. Not many months since an eminent divine in one of the largest and most influential churches in the country, R li ious speaking before a normal-school graduating instruction class, strongly opposed religious instruction in schools. in the sc hools. He deplored the fact that too often teachers make it their business, by indirection or otherwise, to seek to inculcate their own religious beliefs and opinions. He insisted that the home and the church should devote themselves to religious instruction, leaving the school free to confine itself to the intellectual side merely. To the public school come "the children of agnostics and Christians, Mohammedans and Hebrews," each with the understanding that neither directly nor indirectly shall the employee of the state do that which he has stipulated he will not do. "The state," says the reverend gentleman, "is a purely technical institution, and should refuse to accept the task of the religious and moral training of the youth, for which duty it ought to appreciate its own incompetency." He closed by say- ing, "Upon you, O American father and mother, rests the duty of training your children in the principles of the faith you profess." Surely no one could undertake to combat successfully the sanity of this final statement. The public school, if it be true to its mission, may not devote itself to sectarian teaching and the inculcating of particular religious tenets. Those parents who desire the education of their children to be colored by doctrinal teachings will certainly place their boys and girls in parochial or church schools or denominational institutions of learning. They will not expect the public school to compel the avowed Hebrew child to sit under an exposition of Methodism, the Catholic Men in the Making 23 to accept even passively the Mohammedan doctrine, or the agnostic to be steeped in Universalism. Particular secular or religious beliefs should have no place either directly or indirectly in the course of instruction in the public schools. But even though we agree with this high authority on the teaching of religion in the public schools, should the state take no account of the moral training of the youth? Is it the business only of the church and the home to carry forward this moral training, and have the public schools no responsibility here? If the bishop is thinking of religious training in terms of sectarianism or creed, then we should agree with him that such teaching has no place in the public schools. The schools exist not for theological but for the most complete educational ends. So far as character building is concerned, that is a different matter. We shall venture the assertion that the principal excuse the public school has for existing to-day is that it may be a center of moral instruction. Our educational fathers were sound in their doctrine that "Religion, morality, and knowledge being necessary to good government and the happiness of . , j^nowieage mankind, schools and the means of education mus t be based shall forever be encouraged." * I understand on . an e j h ? al ... . foundation that the use of the word religion here is not intended to be taken in any narrow sense, as indicat- ing an "ism." Knowledge is necessary, but it too may be secured at home, or at church, or out of school, in what- ever capacity the individual may be placed. Knowledge without a strong moral directivity, without an ethical foundation acting as a dynamic, is often more to be avoided than desired, and he who has the former without the latter may become the most dangerous sort of criminal. 1 Ordinance of 1787, organizing the Northwest Territory. 24 Ideals and Democracy The school, you say, for intellection and the home and the church for morality. To place upon the church and the home the duty of inculcating the principles of moral living, and to intrust the duty of such proper instruction to ministers and fathers and mothers is not enough. Time was when moral teaching took place largely in the home. The home life was a community life. The home was the center of the family. There were fewer congested cities than now. Social and industrial conditions were vastly more simple than they are to-day. Children are now reared in apartment houses and tenements, and in stifling cellars and garrets. The manifold duties of fathers and mothers separate them constantly from their chil- dren, and the latter simply are allowed to "grow" as was Topsy. The increased desire for wealth and the get-rich-quick spirit of the day render parents careless of their duties in the realm of moral instruction. The very atmosphere of this century of faster living makes the problem ever increasingly complicated. We would agree with the bishop that to the home should be left in large measure the responsibility of the necessary moral instruction, but we are confronted by a condition and not a theory. Nor should we attempt anything in the school that will relieve the fathers and mothers of their responsibility in this regard. The parent is not derelict in his duty because of the interest of the school in this matter. Not at all. It is in part because, little by little, our social and economic and industrial devel- opment has been such that the home is ceasing to be a home in fact, that the schools are forced to give heed to the demands of the day in this particular. Deception and corruption crop out in business and in politics. The scramble for the dollar, the race for political preference, the desire for social standing are constantly Men in the Making 25 turning our moral code upside down and creating an im- moral code which is too often accepted in its stead. Railroad rates, forest conservation, tariff revision, and the hundred and one perplexing problems before our people are mere trivial issues when compared with the problem of the corrupt man. With honesty and integrity in high places and low, these seemingly great problems will prove to be very simple indeed. One of the great hindrances to proper character building is the average daily newspaper. Flaunted in the faces of those who are immature and impressionable, j.1 t_ 1 _c a. i 1 ' J.-L Newspapers the newspaper at the breakfast table, in the may hinder street car, and cried about town is doing much to lower the standard of morality that should be set. Take the average newspaper of to-day and measure up the space devoted to murders, suicides, scandals, divorce cases, robberies, frauds, and all that pictures the black and ignoble side of life, and you will be astounded at your findings. Usually occupying the most conspicuous place in the sheet, and with the largest and most prominent display of type so that he who runs may read, these things are put before young and old for their daily diet. It is criticism enough that adults have access to such unhealthy and unwholesome tales. Business and professional men should at least be satisfied with the bare facts. Must then the child be allowed to drink in the details in all their hurtful revulsion? No paper should, under the subterfuge of news, be permitted to scatter broadcast stories that can prove only a menace to society and help to breed results that shall make possible more stories of the same character. "Each newspaper is not one tongue, but a thousand or a million tongues, telling the same foul story to as many pairs of listening ears. The vultures of sensationalism 26 Ideals and Democracy scent the carcass of immorality afar off. From the uttermost parts of the earth they collect the sin, disgrace and folly of humanity, and show them bare to the world. They do not even require facts, for morbid memories and fertile imaginations make even the worst of the world's happenings seem tame when compared with the mon- strosities of invention. These stories, and the discussions they excite, develop in readers a cheap, shrewd power of distortion of the acts of all around them." ' The public, through its demand for the sensational, is largely responsible for existing conditions. The press of the country, properly restricted, may be made one of the greatest elements of uplift. Until the home and all humanity-advancing institutions join hands in teaching the moral side of a clean commercial- Effident * sm > anc ^ can snow that material interests and moral honor in business go hand in hand, we cannot instruction hope Qr honesty and equity to prevail in business methods. To be able to recite the ten com- mandments or to memorize pages of Scripture will never of themselves lay a foundation for religious instruction. To repeat accurately carefully learned lessons and to pass a high examination in mathematics does not argue the fixing of moral truths in the mind. The lessons, wherever learned, must look toward some application of the moral principles. It is a great mistake to suppose that much talking about the moral phases of existence, the necessity for upright dealing, for honesty among men, for truth in all transactions, whether of man with man or nation with nation, will be of material benefit to the student in school or to the man outside. Unless the boy can be assured that those who talk are also the ones who perform; unless he knows that those who preach are they 1 William George Jordan, The Kinship of Self -Control, p. 15. Men in the Making 27 who likewise practice, the seed of moral teaching will fall on stony ground, and the harvest will probably be of tares rather than of wheat. Morality is not a matter of special lessons. Morality cannot be taught successfully from a book, because it is not contained in a book. Morality is lofty thinking, honest doing, righteous living. It must be found in every lesson, every teacher, every associate of the boy, if we are to expect him to think and do and live the best of which he is capable. Unless builded upon moral principles, no business can properly thrive, no life be made enduring. In a recent conversation upon this very topic of moral instruction with a man of broad culture and high moral standing in the community, our talk turned to the bring- ing from abroad of dutiable goods into this country. When the statement was made that under the law, goods to the amount of one hundred dollars may be brought in by each individual duty free, my friend remarked that he saw no harm in bringing in without declaration more goods than the law allowed. Such a man will recognize the crime in cheating his neighbor, but has no conception of the existence of the same moral code when dealing with a corporation or a country. There are no degrees of honesty. Because he is not strictly honest with himself he would lack positive force for uplift among his associates. I take it to be a fact that no one is qualified to teach or preach, regardless of the degrees he holds or the diplomas or honors he has won, unless his own life is a guarantee of the success of moral teaching. No parent who is not at all times a model after which the boy may with safety pattern his actions and his words should have the responsibility of rearing and training such boy. As it has been aptly put, if every man in a given community 28 * Ideals and Democracy would, on going home from church, draw a circle leaving himself in the center and say, "I will clean and purify everything within this circle," such community would be clean, and in a decade the moral problem would be solved. What we most need in the promotion of character building is not additional moral codes but a living up to those we now have. Just as in this country it is not more laws that are needed but a more efficient enforcement of those upon the statute books, so we should have simply a more strict observance of those things we know to be right and true and just and generous. What may be called backbone is lacking in most of us. The average citizen is quick to shoulder his gun for the front when his commercial interests need protecting, or when his honor or his country's honor is in jeopardy. But to-day many a man is inclined to wink at those things he knows to be morally wrong lest his business suffer, his neighbor scoff at him, or his party leaders call him a black sheep or a backslider. He turns from the right lest he be con- sidered a dreamer or idealist. The demand is for men who, knowing the right and having the strength of their convictions, cannot be moved by threat or ridicule or bribe or argument. In a recent address upon this subject of character building, a speaker declared that the boy must be taught Character to see the necessitv for morality in all acts building and under all conditions of life, even if in nothing more than in seeking to become a man like his father, or in driving the cart of the grocer next door. We must remember that if the father is the right kind of man, there is nothing more glorious or dignified toward which the boy may shape his course than to follow the example set by the father. There is as much honor in driving a grocer's cart as in Men in the Making 29 preaching a sermon. It is not the service that dignifies morality. Morality makes any service dignified. However important may be the training of the physi- cal, the intellectual, or the social natures, let us say again that in the last analysis the real, practical training is to be found in developing the moral nature. Character building is of the first importance. A bookkeeper may be a correct accountant and a perfect penman, but if he cannot be relied upon to keep an honest set of books, do you want him in your office? Your banker may be the most far-seeing financier, the best judge of property values, and a careful investor, but if he uses your money for his private investments, do you wish him for your banker? Your clerk may be courteous, attentive, taste- ful in dress, have a wide circle of friends upon whom he draws to be your customers, but if he transfers to his pocket the money that should go into the till, think you he will long remain in your employ? Do you want as a consulting engineer the college graduate who winks at the salted mine, who overlooks weak members in the structure you have engaged him to examine, or whose figures are based on fancy rather than on fact? Your butcher, your baker, your candlestick maker, each in his own field may be a thorough master of his business, but if the training of these men has not been such as to make for upright, honest, square dealing, then their edu- cation has not been practical, and in the open market these men are worth less than one hundred cents on the dollar, and " rejected " is to be written on their credentials. Many favorable signs there are looking toward the better understanding of what character and civic right- eousness really mean, and the place they should occupy in our daily life and dealings. Many also are the signs pointing toward increased opportunities for laying jo Ideals and Democracy foundations for such understanding. The great peace movement is spreading; a sturdy, clean commercialism is coming to the front; the rush of young men and women cityward is being curbed, and the country is becoming more attractive than ever before; crowded, unwholesome conditions in the city are being eliminated; forms of industrial training and home economics in school are offering the most effective means for the best moral in- struction; proper attention to the physical needs of school children is tending to reduce the number of those who have been counted lazy or incompetent or mentally deficient; much attention is given children's reading, and they are drilled in the art of study. All this forecasts the dawning of a new day. From those outside the school there frequently comes the greatest help. To-day the need for a high standard of ideals in education and in business must be advocated by those without the teaching profession as well as by those in it. And by these former also must this higher standard be exemplified. When Theodore Roosevelt, in the Earl Lectures, 1 hit out fearlessly at graft and sham and superficial living he struck a chord of response in every section of our land. With the proper training in our schools there will de- velop young men and women who will mold and shape public opinion and stand for realizable ideals. The future citizens will frown upon the special privilege and welcome mutual trust and equal rights for all. They will declare against the "short-change" method in business or politics, and demand open-handed dealing in shop or mine or mill. They will so preach and practice that honesty will be, not the "best policy"; it will be the only policy. i Delivered in the Greek Theatre, University of California, April, 1911. M en in the Making 31 Men and women should realize that, aside from the home influences, nowhere can right lessons be taught so well as in the school. Here the intercourse of pupil with pupil reflects in small the great throbbing, pulsating world without. Here the boy has duties and obligations; he meets others in friendly rivalry or in honest cooperation; he must be serious and sad, happy and cheerful; he is to give and trke, to ask and receive, to compete and assist, to accept and reject; he must create and destroy, analyze and compare, investigate and decide, learn and unlearn; and everywhere and always, in school and out, unless all that is learned, unless all that the boy becomes, is based upon a sound appreciation of ethical and moral life and responsibility the real work of the school is not accomplished and failure, not success, is the reward of the individual and the achievement of education. My plea is for a training in conduct and character that, beginning in the home and carried on by the school, the Sunday school, and the church, shall spread and broaden in the life of the individual, to the end that politics shall be pure, commercialism shall be clean, and society shall be sound. An education aiming at less is a delusion and a snare. CHAPTER III THE NEW CENTURY'S AWAKENING centuries past an Englishman in the service A of the Dutch sought a short route to India. Many had dreamed of a direct and safe passage thither and more than one hardy soul had attempted to find such. Holland had built up an extensive trade upon the sea. She was then, as she is to-day, a wealthy country. But the way to India was long, the ships small, and chartless the un- friendly waters. This Englishman who served the Dutch three hundred years ago represented the best organized and most wealthy corporation of the day, the Dutch East India Company. This man, like many another before him, had seen visions and had dreamed dreams. For him a way should open, and he would lead his people to the promised land. Brave, loyal, earnest, determined, with his face seaward, he went forward to his task. His equipment? Less than as many dollars as there are days in a year with which to stock and provision his boat. To his wife a promise by the company of eighty dollars in case the explorer never returned. In an obscure corner of the paper of agreement a further promise to reward him at discretion should success crown his efforts. Then with an untried crew of a score of men he sailed away in a ship so small and mean and fragile you would not go in her in a storm from the Statue of Liberty to Ellis Island. His orders were to sail to the north and to return if no passage was discovered. But he encountered ice and contrary to orders he bore away to the west and into the setting sun. The New Century's Awakening 33 And what of Henry Hudson? He crossed the Atlantic and sailed up the river that now bears his name. On returning to Holland he was accorded barely a "thank you," so disappointed were the members of the Dutch East India Company that the coveted passage was still lost to them. Then at a later date Hudson, sailing under the flag of his own country, England, discovered the land around Hudson Bay and the bay itself. But ice barred his way. The situation became serious, and it seemed that Hudson and his men must winter in that awful region. Provisions were low, and Hudson undertook to safeguard the lives of his men by storing away in his own cabin such portion of food as would be needed later. But, so strange a thing is fate, this very act of his was used as an excuse for mutiny. He was placed with three sick men and a helpless boy in an open boat, and in the embrace of the icebound, everlasting waters of the north, with his face still to the west, Hudson without a word drifted away into eternal remembrance. The Dutch East India Company is almost forgotten, save for its misdeeds, but Hudson's name is remembered. He saw a vision. He worked not for gain or Hudson's for glory. He worked for others, and working lesson to thus he labored for himself. Not long since humanit y in the city of New York there occurred a celebration in honor of the three-hundredth anniversary of the discovery of one of the most wonderful rivers in the world. In the harbor and scattered up and down the river were craft representing every nation on the earth with ships afloat. And at night, to one standing upon the river's bank and watching the myriad lights flash out from this city on the water, the thought would come as to whether anything akin to this scene appeared in the vision of Henry Hudson as he began his life anew. j4 Ideals and Democracy And now three hundred years from the time when the Half Moon of Henry Hudson carried her wondering crew past the palisades and the canoes of the startled first Americans, our thoughts are directed across valley and mountain and desert to the seas of Balboa. Here on the heights rising above the old ocean that for centuries has beat in its uneasy, ceaseless motion against the shores, there stands a multitude of people gazing outward over the Pacific. Away yonder where the sky meets the water a spot of white appears over the rim of the Pacific a spot that grows and then another and another. From bits of white cloud the size of the hand they unfold and separate. Sails, masts, turrets, massive hulls, gigantic engines of war, men and cannon and flags, sixteen of the most wonderful arsenals that were ever set afloat are bearing down upon the land that holds in check the sundown sea. Let loose months before from that side of the continent where Hudson found only Indians and wild beasts, these The mission vesse ls have come around the world to bear baM 0d h" US g f eeting ' Since Hudson's day one hundred million people have found homes on this soil. These massive structures are their property. They bear our brothers on their decks and sail in our service. And although there are now many routes to India, these ves- sels represent a small portion only of the great navy we must maintain that trade may be carried on with our fellows in other lands, that lives may be safe, that honor and integrity may be assured, that our own country may be free from invasion by our sister nations, that peace may be secured to us even at the expense of war. In these three hundred years what marvelous changes have been wrought! Step by step the first Americans have been driven back back from the lands bordering The New Century's Awakening 35 the Atlantic to the Great Lakes and the valleys of the Ohio and the Mississippi; to the plains stretching to the shoulders of the Rocky Mountains; to n. Changes and the deserts that even now the white man development in covets. During these three centuries the three centurie * forests that sheltered these natives and wild beasts have given place to orchards and vineyards and vast granaries that feed the world. The tepee of the Indian is gone, and in its place stands the massive manufacturing plant that turns the raw material into the finished product. Instead of the trail is the trolley. The whole continent is a checker board, crossed by bands of steel. Messages are no longer carried by fainting rider on weary horse, but flashing back and forth they come from Atlantic to Pacific as the shuttle moves before the vision. The streams are alive with humanity. The ocean on either side bears to and fro the people of many nations and the products of many lands. Progress has been abroad in these three centuries. Homes have been builded, schools and churches have done their work, mighty deeds have been accomplished, dis- tance has been conquered, a new nation has been born, and to-day the most wonderful people inhabit the most wonderful land in the most wonderful age the world has ever known. But at what cost! No great work has ever been achieved without its price price in pain and sacrifice and death. The victory may be glorious, The heavy but somewhere homes are saddened and price paid hearts are sore. During these three centuries f r ^ rogre ' of progress men have constantly paid a heavy price. If greed has made glory possible and poverty has flowered into progress, there are those who have suffered. Selfish- ness and corruption and dishonor and slavery and war j6 Ideals and Democracy have all claimed their toll of human life. War still goes on. We must keep up our mighty navies, our standing armies, our coast fortifications, our strongholds in the interior. We war in fact or we war in spirit. Nor is this all. We must maintain a readiness for war even though our brother suffers for the necessities of life. Our national debt must be increased that modern armaments may be set aside for still more modern types. Our boys in school must be prepared and made ready, as were the Spartans of old, for the time when patriotism shall develop into powder, and friendship and brotherhood be lost in the desire for territorial expansion or commercial greatness. The issue in the future should be one of principle. To-day might does not make right. Men must at last be Universal trained in the ethics of peace. A great peace a funda- moral principle is involved and the home, mental issue ^ churchj and the school must stand as the centers of moral training. We are brought face to face with an issue that means more in the future develop- ment of the people than does commerce or party politics or polar exploration, because it is more fundamental than these. Money and lands and power and territorial greatness and glory may no longer be secured at the price of poverty and intrigue and war. To create a clear understanding of the necessity for peace, and of the curse of war among civilized peoples, high ideals must develop and moral standards must be commonly held. One of the greatest elements that shall make for high moral standards, and that should be taught in the home, the school, and the church, is the necessity for and sacred- ness of peace among nations. We talk much of the necessity for peace and friendship between rpan and man, but at some slight provocation nation has been plunged into war with nation that commercial honor may stand The New Century's Awakening 37 untarnished, that territorial glory may be upheld, or that personal ambition may be gratified. The man who is not morally sound when dealing with himself cannot, in a broad sense, be morally sound when dealing with others. Society is made up of The integrity groups of individuals, and as the individual f society de- so the society. We meet one another upon ^nandhlnlll the street, in the home, at the school, at our nations places of business, in the lodge room, in the church. We carry on our various lines of business or practice our professions; we buy and sell, borrow and lend, talk poli- tics or crops or religion, show little acts of courtesy to one another, speak the kind word and extend the helping hand, but these things, necessary and needful and com- mendable though they be, often only mirror the moral nature. Morality is deeper and lies at the very founda- tion of these outward signs. Morality cannot come until true friendship comes. True friendship for another means, many times, forgetting oneself ; it means doing the thing that may show the doer to the world at a disadvantage; it means sacrifice, pain, loss, poverty, dishonor, death. But out of it all come reward, pleasure, profit, riches, honor, and life eternal. Friendship, however, to be most meaningful, must lay its foundation far outside the circle of that chosen few with whom we regularly associate and whom . . .. _, . Provincialism we delight to call our mends. This lesson in friendships our institutions must teach. Selfishness and means selfishness provincialism characterize those who are un- willing to call all men brothers and all nations neighbors. Until the time shall come when man shall rest content only as he forgets his own selfish interests, in carrying peace and contentment, hope and inspiration, to all until such time shall come when man shall not think of 38 Ideals and Democracy himself "more highly than he ought to think," the real friendship of man to man, of people to people, and of nation to nation cannot be established. This is one of the very fundamentals of moral teaching. The question of the necessity for real friendships between man and man, between nation and nation, is a great moral issue, and I would draw your attention to two or three homely illustrations of the selfishness and greed of the world and the need for the joining of hands of the church, the school, and the home in an endeavor to bring to the coming generations a proper conception of things. We are willing to concede the necessity for personal friendships, but this commercial age has such a hold upon our minds and our consciences, our palms and our purses, that we forget the significance of a national friendship and of an international morality. Not long since, through the fog that hung heavy over the old ocean, away to westward, there crept into the harbor at San Pedro, on the Pacific coast, Necessity for + , ., international ancl anchored at the very western edge of friendships^ the continent, two vessels from a foreign an illustration j , r land bearing a foreign people. There was no pilot to bring them in, no sun shone to guide them, no cannon's roar told them that the journey was at an end, no lookout saw the land as did Columbus sight the eastern side of this continent. But through the fog the sailing master, as he studied a chart in his cabin, and the man at the lead, as he took his soundings, knew when the last foot had been traveled, and the Japanese ships cast anchor in San Pedro Bay. And these Japanese! We welcomed them; they were shown the sights of our cities and towns; they ate at our tables; they listened to our words of friendship and praise and felt our hearty handclasps. But how long and under what circumstances shall these The New Century's Awakening 39 two nations be friends? Always, we trust, and under any and all conditions and circumstances; but if greed, or glory, or commercialism, or desire for territorial expansion, or revenge, or hatred on our part shall ever set aside this bond of friendship, then have our homes, our schools, and our churches been negligent in their duty in teaching lessons of real virtue and morality and reverence and brotherly love, and this American people shall have been untrue to itself. Selfishness begets war, and war has done more to break down the results of moral and religious teachings than all other causes combined. I have stood in that War a i ways old historic French city of Rouen, looking up the enemy at the statue of the French girl, Joan of Arc, of morals erected upon the spot where, bound with chains and surrounded by human beings, she was burned to death by our own English ancestors. And my mind went back to those days of which this scene was the forerunner the days of the Commune and the French Revolution. You recall how for centuries the nobles and the higher clergy had been working in France for selfish ends. The common people, the laboring classes, the The curse of peasants, themselves labonng for a bare the Commune pittance, were forced to give the major por- and *%f F r. ch Revolution tion of their earnings to the church and the aristocracy. In many instances the poor people were hurried away to prison if the extravagant demands of the aristocracy were not met, and at a later date the Bastile and the guillotine awaited any whose beliefs or opinions ran counter to the utterances of those in power. Previous to the peasant uprising the people were mur- dered by hundreds and they starved by thousands. The aristocracy of France cared absolutely nothing for the people, and when at last human endurance was at an end 40 Ideals and Democracy they arose men, women, children; starved, vengeful, ill kept. You know the result. The people won. Vic- tory came to the deserving, as it always does; as it had come to our people a few years earlier in our own revo- lution. But at what cost? France has never to this day rallied from the results of her wars. Morality was swallowed up in greed. As moral forces, the school and the church counted for very little. The flower of the French nation was swept away. To note the lack of potent moral instruction in those great centers of moral and religious inspiration, the school, the home, and the church, is to trace the Curse f war ' an(i to d this ne has but to study conditions as they now exist. Pathetic it is to see in the smaller countries of Europe the poverty and squalor, the misery and wretchedness and privation of the people, and the glory and pomp and splendor of the ruling classes. The pride of little Denmark is still its army and the castles and courts of its rulers. I have stood by the side of the governor of one of the Swedish provinces as he reviewed the vast number in the standing army an army daily costing fortunes to sustain and have on the same day broken bread in the home of a Swedish peasant, the old father and mother barely able to sustain life, the sons in the army or far over seas. What a contrast ! And what of our country ? Are we following in the footsteps of our sister nations ? Had moral instruction been for the last fifty years the chief ele- Proper moral , . ., instruction ment in education, wars would have long ago would stamp been impossible in this and every country. Brother must cease to struggle with brother, man with man, community with community. Peace, not war, must be the watchword; love, rather than hate, must be blazoned upon our banners. Nation must trust The New Century's Awakening 41 nation, and the good of all rather than the selfish interests of a few must be the chief consideration. Only a nation morally strong can long endure. "The crest and crowning of all good, Life's final star, is Brotherhood. For it will bring again to Earth Her long-lost Poesy and Mirth; Will send new light on every face, A kingly power upon the race. And till it come, we men are slaves, And travel downward to the dust of graves. "Come, clear the way, then, clear the way: Blind creeds and kings have had their day. Break the dead branches from the path; Our hope is in the aftermath Our hope is in heroic men, Star-led to build the world again. To this Event the ages ran: Make way for Brotherhood make way for Man. " l Talk as we may of the value of military drill in the school, it is largely a relic of barbarism and an echo of tradition. Companies are formed, marching favoring* clubs, boys' brigades, scouting parties. We military drill claim that in the matter of physical devel- opment these organizations are unexcelled. The boys are kept in the open air; they become strong and vigorous; they learn from nature; they learn from their fellows; they become brave and honest and helpful; class distinctions are torn away; they appreciate the meaning of discipline; they learn to obey, and learning this are preparing themselves to lead and to command. Even the Boy Scout movement, organized through proper motives, has largely developed into a military organization. And when the evidence is all in we find the main excuse 1 Brotherhood, by Edwin Markham. 42 Ideals and Democracy for the existence among schoolboys of such organizations to be set forth in the utterance of a man in public life and quoted in a recent issue of a great daily. "To organ- ize the American Boy Scouts is a creditable move," he says. "Talk as you will about universal peace and all that, but martial spirit is a good thing to instill into the youth of the land. Martial spirit and interest in things military is easily engendered in youngsters, more so than in their elders, and both the Civil War and the Spanish- American trouble proved the worth of young men who had an inkling of tactics and camp life before they swore allegiance to Uncle Sam." Here then is the so-called practical man, the man of affairs, the man who has served his country on the field, The fallacy of ^vising this early training in things military things military because marches and camps and firearms in the school and smoke and cannon s roar 3^ the details of the battle field appeal to the youth even more than to their elders. In the olden days the Spartan youth were so educated and so drilled. They were taught also the art of theft, punishment coming only when they were detected. Just because the youth is susceptible to teach- ing and instruction, whether good or bad, is exactly the reason for a proper training of children in the home, the school, and the church. Why not follow the lead of some of our European countries, and compel all young men to serve an apprenticeship in the army, that they may prepare against the time when shall come the call to battle? "Every self-respecting, humanity loving man should closely watch the efforts to put afoot a movement that has for its purpose the militarizing of our American public school system. It is not fear which prompts this note of warning that the introduction of this line of instruction The New Century's Awakening 43 will particularly hurt the system or the prevalent educa- tional methods, but because to us it seems to have the stamp of a well thought out scheme to poison the minds of the children. "Militarism is a disease bred of ignorance, foreign in origin and character to an intelligent social order. Unless we are ready to admit that we neither have nor can have in the near future such intelligent social order, we must be opposed to its being foisted upon the school children. Wherever enters militarism, out goes democracy. Its rule does not permit of argument, of reason, of love for either child or mother, for either father or sister. As we know militarism, it represents arrogance and brutality. "The gun and education are unalterably opposed. Discipline and submission are not one and the same thing. To charge the air of the schoolroom with the military spirit does not mean discipline. "All of these facts have long been recognized by the men and women advocating the new education, as it was found that a fine physique and a warped mind are bad companions. "A fine physique and a fine, comprehensive mind, this is the slogan of real education. Physical and manual training will supply to our youth all and more of the advantages claimed for khakiism; it will make strong, true, industrious men; it will make of them world patriots." 1 Morals cannot be legislated into human beings ; neither can they be driven home at the point of a bayonet. Unless we develop a nation of men and women who in the plastic period of childhood have been taught the curse of war and the meaning of brotherhood between peoples of whatever country, or nationality, or color, we shall 1 The Progressive Journal of Education^ Vol. II, p. 207. 44 Ideals and Democracy have schools teaching militarism and find boys anxious for war. We must begin in the school. In school also less attention should be given the war side of history. Take from the average textbook on The tendency mstorv to-day those portions dealing directly of history to or indirectly with wars and there is little glorify war rem aining. Causes of and preparations for war, size of armies, dates and locations of battles, lurid pen pictures of carnage and destruction and death, the shouts of men, the cries of the wounded, the smoke and blaze of powder, the roar of shot, the battle-scarred flags, the groans of the vanquished and the cheers of the victor, these have a prominent place in our schools. And then the periods that follow the war a country disfigured and desolate, crops destroyed, homes forsaken, people sunk in poverty and want, and the graves of the best and strong- est of the nation's heroes. History must reveal the glory and dignity and power of peace rather than the glitter and splendor of war. It Thereat ' must trace the needs of the statesman, the province of inventor, the mechanic, the writer, the philan- history study thropist> the explorer, the settler, the farmer, rather than those of the warrior and the soldier. "Our fathers ... got not the land in possession by their own sword, neither did their own arm save them: but thy right hand, and thine arm, and the light of thy countenance, because thou hadst a favour unto them. " * For the brave men of all past time, who without selfishness or thought of glory or honor, and at great personal sacrifice and financial loss, have given their lives that the state might be spared, we are thankful. But the day is now at hand to lay aside the memory of the circumstances that made wars necessarv, and to hold 1 Psalms t xliv, 3. The New Century's Awakening 45 before the vision those things that shall render further war forever impossible. Universal peace must reign. Our institutions should seek to make clear the fact that increased navies and enlarged standing armies will not tend to decrease the prospect of war. When, a few years since, wonderful inventions gave to us guns of tre- mendous power and accuracy it was said by many that this alone would prevent war. That no army or navy could withstand the fire from such destructive engines was the conclusion. In the old days it was war constantly. Contests of strength or cunning saved life, or property, or honor. An argument ended in a duel, an insult in Primitive a tribal uprising. A dispute over boundary man a natural lines, or division of spoils, or the payment of a debt meant bloodshed and massacre and revenge and war. Men were ever on the alert to wrench from their neighbors that which did not belong to them, and the outposts had to be constantly guarded. In order to prevent war this nation and our sister nations vied, each with the other, in securing an adequate armament. But hardly had this wonderful Preparedness race for supremacy got well under way than for war will not powerful war vessels and dreadnaughts be- *"**&** gan to take shape. Now surely war should cease, for what could bide the onslaughts of one of these monsters ! And again nation followed nation in draining the pockets of the poor that floating arsenals should be in readiness to prevent war. And as a last development comes the fly- ing machine, which some claim must certainly do away with all thoughts of war, as whole cities and navies could be destroyed by explosives dropped from above. So long, however, as we prepare for war, war will not cease. And people must suffer, the country must be $ Ideals and Democracy hopelessly in debt, suspicion must hang over our neigh- bors, and our moral natures must be dwarfed and shriveled, Hear Eben Rexford say: 1 "O bells, to-day let warfare cease! Christ came to be a Prince of Peace. No longer let the sound of drum Or trumpet, campward calling, come To vex the earth with dread, and make The hearts of wives and mothers ache. Leave battle-flags to moths and dust Let gun and sword grow red with rust! Earth groans with carnage let it cease Ring in the thousand years of Peace! "Ring out the littleness of things, Ring in the broader thought that brings Swift end to all ignoble creeds. Ring in an age of noble deeds For all things pure, and high, and good The era of true brotherhood. Ring out the lust for gold and gain The greed that cripples soul and brain, And open eyes, long blind, to see What grander, better things there be!" To-day our whole social fabric is built upon the con- ception of brotherhood; our commercial relations are Present social k ase ^ upon confidence placed in our fellows. and civic life Tear down this mutual trust and confidence ^spiri^o/ 11 an( ^ our comr fl erc ial and financial standing trust and would totter in a day. The same trust arbitration and confidence displayed between man and man should be in force between nation and nation. We elect our chief executive, not at the point of a sword, but by arbitration, that is, we agree to accept the judgment of the majority. The winners in a game of baseball are 1 "At Christmas Time," in Home and Flowers. The New Century's Awakening 47 determined by arbitration. A contest in debate or oratory is decided by judges chosen by representatives from either side. We visit the tin shop or grocery store or carriage factory, and by mutual agreement exchange money for goods. We bring dutiable articles from a foreign country into our own and arbitrate as to their value. We are slandered or misrepresented in the public prints, and push our prosecution through the courts, thus agreeing to arbitrate the case. We argue and vote upon the tariff, and suffrage, and the liquor question, and franchises, and race-track gambling, and abide by the decision of the majority in other words, we arbitrate. The schools must teach that war is not necessarily dignified or patriotic or humane; that it is usually unnecessary, and that peaceable agreement brings better results than unhappy war; that dreadnaughts will insure peace less quickly than will mutual trust and confidence. Let others speak of our tremendous expenditure in dollars and cents in building up our army and navy, our natural and artificial defenses. Let them show how the cost of one dreadnaught will mV peace build all needed schoolhouses, pay all teachers' will result salaries, including an increase of ten per * cent, and defray the entire cost of educating the school children in a city of a million and a half of people for an entire year. Let them show how elimina- tion of poverty and disease could be hastened by applying at the roots of these evils the energy and money put into needless preparations for war. One argument alone, and that, the resulting higher moral standards among the people of the earth, is sufficient to justify the call for universal peace. Common sense and justice should, without statistics, suffice to prove this. Brotherly love must uproot selfishness; honor must take the place of 48 Ideals and Democracy intrigue; responsibility and service must be the motto of all men. Moral standards and high ideals must be constantly before us. I see a vision of a national ideal of responsibility and service, of brotherhood and peace, and as the vision grows I see a wonderful democracy of men; a union of forces before which every evil must vanish as mist before the sun, and in the path of whose oncoming, righteousness alone can stand. CHAPTER IV THE CLASSICS OF INDUSTRIALISM TNDUSTRY and art have for so long been separated, -L the one from the other, that little attention has been given the relation that should exist between the two. "Art for art's sake," upon the one hand; industry for strictly commercial purposes upon the other, these have been the con- ceptions commonly held for many decades. It is years since an artistic commercialism has dared present itself for consideration. One summer morning when a boy I stood, shortly after sunrise, upon a bridge that, spanning a river in one of the largest cities on this continent, was swinging length- wise of the stream to allow for the passage of a three- masted schooner. A country boy, this was my first view of the great city and of this waterway that, like a mammoth ribbon, divided the city on either hand. As I looked, delighted and amazed, there appeared upon the river, craft of many descriptions then unknown to me. Tied at the docks on either side were barges of coal and lumber unloading their cargoes, these to be in turn dis- tributed throughout the length and breadth of the great city, or, perhaps, again loaded upon cars to be reshipped in every direction the coal to warm the homes of thou- sands and to keep alive the furnaces upon which manu- factures and material progress depend; the lumber to be turned into dwellings and the thousand-and-one projects of the arts and industries. 4 49 $o Ideals and Democracy Other boats were taking on their cargoes of raw material and manufactured goods to find port in every civilized portion of the world. Sailing craft, lake and ocean- going steamships, small sculls and rowboats, tenders, tugs, government cutters, boats large and small, old and new, were passing back and forth in a ceaseless, uneasy movement. And this coming and going, loading and unloading; this activity, life, motion, was ever before the eye, telling to those who could read, of prosperity and poverty, of joy and sorrow, of pleasure and pain, of gain and loss; telling of a commercial life, meaningful and nec- essary, that was being made to serve the life of man. But standing there on this summer morning, the com- mercial significance of the scene had no hold upon me. The life, the movement, the white sails, the brightly painted hulls, the slender, tapering masts, the ease with which the immense floating structures slipped past one another on this narrow waterway all was to my mind the embodiment of art itself. It was only a beautiful pano- rama, a play enacted for my pleasure. To later years of discrimination it was left for me to realize that another meaning attached to this picture upon the canvas of life, and that bound up with the scene that had appealed only to the eye was a commercial meaning, a business inter- pretation, an industrial significance that could not and should not be dissociated from the former. It was an industrial art, an artistic commercialism. When we endeavor to analyze our conception of the term utility we have a task far from simple. We are The aesthetic P rone to consider in an out-of-hand manner vs. the that the utilities are those things, objects, utilitarian Qr attr jbutes that can be put to immediate, material use. Anything that may be used to our own or to the advantage of others, anything that contributes to The Classics of Industrialism 51 our physical needs, would at once be classed as a utility. The utilitarian view is, to the common mind, opposed to the cultural or to the aesthetic side; it is the bread-and- butter conception. Utilitarianism in the popular sense refers to trade; it bespeaks the commercial spirit; it has to do with coal and iron, shovel and pick, cotton and coffee, steam and electricity. This view is not, in a broad sense, the true one. If culture and utility were two distinctly different phases of our problem, art would have no relation to either. All legitimate education is both cultural and utilitarian in character, for what is truly the latter must perforce be the former, and the everyday life of the individual is influenced more than he can say by true art, whenever and however it may appear. How great an effect the aesthetic has upon the utilitarian side perhaps cannot be told. "No people is intellectually independent until it has a language and a literature, all its own." 1 Just as the language of a people, both spoken and written, furnishes the key to its future development, so in a lesser degree and perhaps in a more fundamental sense the aesthetic element performs the same function. It cannot be denied that a people is intellectually inde- pendent only when it has an art, that is, an appreciation of art an appreciation so keen that the moral, intellec- tual, and commercial life is advantaged thereby. Art that is capable of making its appeal through utility will be appreciated; whenever it is accepted as having value from the utilitarian side it will make its appeal to culture. True appreciation is not simply a matter of development, of evolution, of education, although the more complete the knowledge the more 1 Nicholas Murray Butler, Introduction to Chubb's The Teach- ing of English p. xix. 52 Ideals and Democracy perfect the ideal. The beautiful may be appreciated at once. This may perhaps be stating in another way that only the real is be?.utiful; hence true art can always be appreciated. "Our knowledge is a torch of smoky pine, That lights the path one little step ahead Across a void of mystery and dread. Teach, then, the inward light of faith to shine, Whereby alone the mortal heart is led Unto the thinking of the thought divine." The truly aesthetic, therefore, cannot exist aside and apart from the useful. This implies that all useful things are beautiful, although there are degrees both of utilit y and of beauty. But of two things otherwise equally good, the more beautiful will serve its purpose the better. The crude clay water jug of the primitive savage, fashioned around a basket of woven rushes, was indeed an article of use, and not without artistic merit. The delicately fashioned vase of the Greek, designed for exactly the same purpose and with a capacity equal to that of the clay jug, but combin- ing symmetry and perfect lines, was by far the better piece of work from a utilitarian point of view. The water jug is forgotten by all save the archaeologist, but the vase form is used to-day as it has been used through all the centuries past. Because it pleases the eye, its mar- ket value is greater than that of the other; it will be used as a model while the other will not; it will have an effect upon the life of the individual that the other cannot have an effect beneficial from both mental and mate- rial standpoints. "There is one glory of the sun, and another giory of the moon, and another glory of the stars"; there is likewise an art of strength, an art of simplicity, an art of line, form, The Classics of Industrialism 53 and color, and all combine in use, which is the art itself. In generations past, before the power of the dollar had begun to assert itself in such definite and far-reaching terms as is the case to-day; when time was less of the vital element it is at present, and before division of labor had been carried to its apparently extreme limit, but withal, a limit that is constantly expanding as a rubber band may be stretched, there was a day when art and industry were blended and shaped together in the work of the people. -. At the base of utility were stability and beauty. The builder in wood was the artistic builder, and his product was to endure not for a day but for time. The mason kept in mind both his building and its beauty. The worker in iron constructed on lines not only of strength but of satisfaction. The architect, the mechanic, and the artist were often one and the same. There was a unity, a oneness, throughout the work, and that which at the moment could not reach completion was not outraged by hasty or careless workmanship. The worth of the structure was to be determined by the test of time, the relation of function to fitness, and the effect produced upon the eye and mind. To meet this test, thought and intelligence, care and patience, honest and artistic work, beautiful ideals and strong realities, in fact, the very lives and purposes of men, were built into the structure as builders lay stones, one upon the other. And so whether in the cathedral, the shop door, the road, the wall, the piece of furniture, the picture, the implement, the book, the fireplace, the silver for the table each building, each separate piece, decoration, or utensil, was made to use, to beautify, and to endure. To-day all is different, although the tide has set again toward the better conception. Division of labor and specialization are now so far-reaching that ten, twenty, 54 Ideals and Democracy sixty men divide among them the processes formerly carried on by one or two. A workman knows little and frequently cares less about details of processes machines outside his own narrow field. He is a human machine, working automatically, his business to turn out the largest amount of work in the shortest possible time. He need have no care for artistic merit or pleasing quality. Development in the world of science is so rapid to-day, and new and improved methods in the arts and industries so soon displace former practices, that stability is given less consideration than would otherwise be the case. The truly artistic cannot exist apart from stability. A great metropolitan daily 1 recently used the following language in commenting upon labor conditions : "Over at the town eating-house I sat alongside two young mechanics in their shirt sleeves. They were engaged in a most interesting discussion. "One was arguing that German mechanics are superior to Americans, and the other was opposing his views. "'My old man is a Dutchman,' said the first young fellow. ' He is a mechanic and I am a mechanic. I can do good work and get good wages in the shop but, pshaw, what do I know about mechanics ? 1 'With the help of a machine, I can make just one part of one machine. My old man could go cut down a tree and take a bar of steel and make the whole thing from the raw state to the finished product. ' ' If we studied our trades like my old man studied his, there would be no trouble about wages and about machinery.' " There is a deal of philosophy in the utterance of the young mechanic. While not a purist, he grasps in a i The Times, Los Angeles, California. The Classics of Industrialism 55 wholesome way the distinction between the conditions of to-day and those of the generations past. The whole argument being presented is that our day and generation have developed such tremendous industrial and commercial problems, such lines of special A * interest, that art and industry have become industry almost hopelessly divorced; and while these divorced lines of progress are to be welcomed and accepted, a right and happy adjustment of the pleasing and the profitable must somehow be brought about. The time has come to cease considering "art for art's sake." The day is past, if this country is to develop ideals and live up to them, when a basis for governmental policies, moral life, and educational growth is to be found in a sordid commercialism. Art and industry must work hand in hand. The artistic workman must take his place side by side with the technical workman; the artistic and technical elements must be developed in every man who plans and builds. "Much has been said in times past about art for art's sake, science for the sake of science, and knowledge for the sake of knowledge," says McMurry. 1 "But these are vague expressions that will excite little interest so long as the worth of a man is determined by what comes out of him, by the service he renders, rather than by what enters in. Other branches of knowledge used for educative purposes, there- fore, resemble the useful arts in the recognition of their bearings on man, their actual use as the goal in their study.". .- A pleasing unity of art and industry, of beauty and utility, and all making for stability, is the goal toward which we should strive. Beauty in form, in color, in musical note, reached a 1 How to Study and Teaching How to Study, p. 198. 50 Ideals and Democracy high standard of perfection in the life of the old Greek and Egyptian; in fact, with all the boasted superiority of our present-day civilization we have never Industrial excelled the Greek in fa p Ower to depict line and form or the Egyptian in his ability to produce abstract color. Music, painting, and sculp- ture have, however, until a recent day, been conceded to comprehend the fine arts. When architecture became an art, then in a measure was the utilitarian view con- sidered. It remained for the applied arts, or the so-called industrial arts, to clearly point the way of the relation of art to utility. We have had pictured to us the master Michelangelo, as he toiled day after day and month by month until the Sistine Chapel was complete, a marvel to all the world and a monument to the creative powers of the man; we have stood silent before the incomparable Madonna of Raphael, being drawn again and again to view, with reverence and wonder, this picture; the chisel of Phidias has left its impress upon the lives of a multitude; the majestic lines of Schiller and Goethe, of Emerson and Shakspere, the music of Wagner and Beethoven, and the sentences of Chatham and Webster are as fresh and inspiring to-day as they were in the times of our fathers; the Cologne Cathedral, which for nine centuries saw progress year by year and from reign to reign, reminds us of those who planned and placed and trued. And in the effects upon our lives of this contact and this experience, the least is by no means utilitarian in character. However, art has begun to assume a broader aspect than that symbolized by the brush and chisel only. "Men fight to lose the battle," says William Morris, "and the thing that they fought for comes about in spite ef their defeat, and when it comes turns out to be not The Classics of Industrialism 57 what they meant, and other men have to fight for what they meant under another name." From the time of William Morris and John Ruskin the beauty of utility has been more and more emphasized, and to-day the term "art" may be applied to work in silver or gold, iron or copper; to wood, glass, leather, or paper. A book or mantelpiece, a city street or a shop window may as clearly embody the art spirit as a painting or a statue. Looked at from this viewpoint it is easy to see how art may have a distinctly utilitarian'trend. It may safely be said, therefore, that use is a determin- ing factor in beauty, and that construction and decoration are its two fundamentals. I have spoken of the moral effect as being different and apart from the utilitarian. But this is impossible. Let me illustrate. I once taught a group of boys The in fl uence in Henry Street. Those of you who live in of art on New York City and have undertaken to learn at first hand how the other half live need not be told the location of Henry Street. The filth and poverty and disappointment of the East Side are resident in this locality; the pathetic and downcast mingle here with the gay and the boisterous; confidence and suspicion watch from opposite street corners. But with scant means, meager homes, and an unhappy environment there is a growing appreciation of the beautiful and an increased understanding of how to construct useful and beautiful things. On climbing to the attic of a Henry Street build- ing and entering a small room occupied by two young men who were working with the boys of the district, one of the silent causes of this appreciation was apparent. On the walls were prints of the masters, simply framed; bookshelves cheaply and serviceably made, and some home-bound magazines and books; pieces of furniture 5# Ideals and Democracy made by the young men, and scattered here and there small articles of use so simply and honestly constructed as to be within the ability and reach of all. This delight- ful place the boys used to visit, and from it radiated such an atmosphere of real art that they carried with them a feeling for the useful and beautiful, and the moral as well. Broadly speaking, that which appeals to the mass, and continues to appeal to it, possesses the elements of utility. The superficial and shallow will endure for a day; that which is fine and true is lasting. In Germany the rich and the poor, the young and the old, the workman, student, and merchant, sit side by side at a Wagnerian production ; all are interested, uplifted, instructed. No man has a "corner" on the appreciation of such music. It appeals to the average man, as does real literature and true art. " The average man is the man of the mill, The man of the valley, the man of the hill; The man at the throttle, the man at the plow, The man with the sweat of his toil on his brow. Who brings into being the dreams of the few, Who works for himself, and for me and for you. There is not a purpose, a project, or plan, But rests on the strength of the average man. 11 The man who, perchance, thinks he labors alone, The man who stands out between hovel and throne; The man who gives freely his brain and his brawn Is the man that the world has been builded upon. The clang of the hammer, the sweep of the saw, The flash of the forge, they have strengthened the law; They have rebuilt the realm that the wars overran, They have shown us the worth of the average man." It is only that education which has a relation to life, day by day, that can be considered true education. The art that does not appeal to everyday existence is not the true art, although that which at first glance seems useless The Classics of Industrialism 59 and theoretical may prove to be of the greatest material use. "We live on the electricity in the air much more than we do on the food we put into our mouths " is another way of expressing the truth that the unseen forces are sometimes of the greatest utilitarian value. The American way is the quick way, the machine way. Quantity counts and character, whether reckoned in terms of man's worth or of artistic merit, The is too little thought of. I have observed American the hundreds of girls and boys in one of the large factories of an eastern city as they carried on the various processes of lead-pencil making. Each had his own part to perform, and the hands moved so rapidly as to tax one in following as it would to follow the fortunes of a moving picture. On observing a similar group of young people in a large pen factory in the English city of Birmingham, the contrast between the American and English temperaments was clearly disclosed. The move- ments of the latter were studied, deliberate, with time enough and to spare. On the one hand was an exposition of the "simple life," with thought and physical growth possible; on the other, the expenditure of nervous en- ergy such as produces invalids in adolescence. Now modern methods or scientific processes in the industries do not always imply a turning from the artis- tic and soul-satisfying. But as we emphasize ^^ ^ the value of quantity in production, as we ceases make for to-day rather than for to-morrow, as we of the schools educate one class to the value of technique and another to the beauty of line and tone and harmonious blending of parts, we tend to cut the cords that should bind industry to art. We make of art a thing of and by itself at which point true art ceases- and emphasize an industry designed simply to make 60 Ideals and Democracy existence possible, trade brisk, and money, for its own sake, more to be desired than before. A real education implies an education for ah; an individual education in whatever it may consist for the individual man. The classics of indus- befterthlnes trialism must appeal to all, and to accomplish this the aesthetic must be bound up with the industries in all the activities in which all are more or less intimately interested. Day by day, hour by hour, this appeal must be made, as it is constant dropping that wears the stone. With the elements of beauty and of utility combined ; with workmen trained to glorify indus- try through pleasing form and to magnify beauty through industrial processes and splended technique; with the dawning of this day of better things will dawn also the day when labor shall be dignified and the master and the workmen shall be fellow builders, working toward the same goal in the same school of service. CHAPTER V THE LIBRARY AS AN EDUCATIONAL FACTOR MORE than three quarters of a century ago the first real apostle of popular education in this country wrote in his journal: "The people who speak to me on the subject of my Secretaryship seem to think that there is more dignity or honor or something in being President of the Senate, than to be Missionary of Popular Education. If t the Lord will prosper me for ten years, I will show them what way the balance of honor lies. But this is not a matter to be done sleeping." 1 And over seventy years later a great soul said: "How do I know that life is worth living unless I learn that some- body else has found it so? Where shall I find that? In a book! How shall I know that victories are to be won unless I find the records in books? Men and women who have been successful in life are telling us of this on the printed pages. This is uplifting. A book is nothing but an individual. If you sit down with one of HowelTs books you sit down with Howell. If you have a public library you have the best men and women of the world as neighbors." 2 Horace Mann was prospered for his ten years. His work as secretary of the Board of Education of Massa- chusetts laid the foundation of the most far-reaching reforms in school administration that our country had 1 Horace Mann's Journal. See Hubbell, Horace Mann, p. Si. 2 Canfield, "The Library's Part in Education," Public Libraries, 14: I2O, 1909. 61 62 Ideals and Democracy experienced to the sunset of the last century. And James H. Canfield, as teacher, librarian, and man, performed a work in stimulating the individual and community mind for good books that rises to-day his monument. The library is or should be one of the most vital of educational factors. Says Draper: "The state which can put a mark upon its map wherever there is a town or village library, and find its map well covered, will take care of itself." 1 "Many an end really within the indi- vidual's reach is never grasped simply because it is con- cealed by the screen of ignorance; and many a man in later years can, with bitter, unavailing regret, see clearly how his whole career might have been different if only this end or that had been brought within his ken by the written or the spoken word." 2 The school and the library are parts of one ard the same great organic institution. Whether housed in the school building or in a separate structure on The library . . ,,. an intrinsic the school grounds, or in a public building, part of managed by a special board and financed by the school . . J . V? ,. the municipality, the library is essentially part and parcel of the educational scheme. The books of the library are as much a part of the school machinery as are the various pieces of apparatus in the physical labor- atory, the biological specimens, the collections used in the study of mineralogy, or the tools and materials in the craft shop or the school kitchen. To think of the library as apart from education, and as simply a desirable aid to the school, is to place it in the amusement column. Many libraries, and the major portion of most, judged by the books on their shelves, belong with the theater and i American Education, p. 46. 5 MacCunn, The Making of Character, p. 193. The Library as an Educational Factor 63 the summer resort. A collection of books meeting this requirement merely is not a library. We must of course have a care for relative values and give full consideration to the legitimate place the library plays as a means of entertainment and recreation. 1 "After the church and the school, the free library is the most effective influence for good in America," said Theodore Roosevelt. This is stating in another form that the church, the school, and the library are three of the elements without which any educational organization is less than perfect. It has been said frequently, and with truth, that with building and equipment and playground and library facilities, and all that goes to constitute the material and physical side of a modern school, the plant would prove inadequate to meet the demands imposed unless the teacher of purpose and of power was the guiding genius of the whole. Person- ality in the teacher counts for more than all else on the success side of the balance sheet. So is it with your librarian. Before building or equipment or books, the librarian stands supreme. The librarian is the center of the system, and all else depends upon her. For what constitutes a library? A beautiful building constructed by private funds or public bond issue and raised amid charming surroundings of lawn and lake and grove? Furniture and equipment of the most modern type? A large collection of books? Too often this is indeed the library. It is a show place. It constitutes "Exhibit A" when visitors are taken proudly about town on a tour of inspection. But what of the librarian? Do her townspeople, her friends and associates, realize the part she is daily called upon to play in shaping the iJewett,"The Public Library and the Public School," Public Libraries, 14: 119, 1909. librarian must work out the problem between interest them. If the pupil's interest lies in states- considered craft and oratory, give him Patrick Henry and Webster and Pitt and Lincoln ; if he wishes verse, there is Steven- son and Lowell and Riley and Kipling; if applied science or invention, then Franklin and Fulton and Morse and Edison. For each one, young or old, the library may be "made to talk" if only the teacher and the librarian are wise and tactful. The day of few books is past, and it is worse than useless to deplore the change from the few well known to the many scanned; but at least some good books revealing the life and times of the great epochs in all countries can be well assimilated. A few books should be thoroughly digested. But with our libraries overflowing with richness; with books and newspapers and magazines; with pictures and exhibits and lectures; with museums and concerts and recitals, and all given in the name of education, teachers and librarians have wonderful opportunities and increased responsibilities. They must also pave the way that the pupil may gather the kernel from many books of many kinds, and from these manifold sources, all of which are more or less closely related to the library. "Through the cooperation of principal, teachers, parents, and librarian, the library may be made the very 8o Ideals and Democracy center of the school work. ' ' * Modern methods of teaching lay more and more stress upon the use of the library as a working laboratory for all departments and as a means of supplementing the regular textbook work in the class- room by the use of books and illustrative materials, thus to give the pupil a broad view of the subject and awaken an interest which may lead to further reading on his own account. To create a love for reading, and to develop a library habit which will lead him to the best use of the public library after school days are over as well as during his school life, should be the desire of those who have the training of the boy in charge. iHall, "What the Librarian may do for the High School," Library Journal, 34: 154, 1909. CHAPTER VI OUR EDUCATIONAL INVESTMENT THE past few years have recorded marked progress throughout the country in the interest taken by laymen in the public schools. Indeed, much of the ad- vance made in socializing the school is owing to this interest. The man in the commercial or professional field, and who is himself a product of the school, should be well fitted to determine in an unbiased way its strengths and weaknesses. It is the one outside the school who is often able to indicate how the work of the schoolroom may be made to harmonize with life as it really exists. It is he who, through suggestion and cooperation with the teacher, may shape and mold the courses of study toward truly useful ends. Organized efforts in many sections have developed a powerful working force among the laymen. Mothers' and fathers' clubs, parents' meetings, citi- , ... i_i_ t. j The growing zens committees, neighborhood conferences, interest of advisory ooards have been of immense value . the layman in bringing together the home and the school. Familiarity here breeds not contempt but inter- est. Cooperation of taxpayer and teacher means efficient schools. While it is true that in many p A aces this cooperation forms a union of interests making for the betterment of the schools, for the most part the schools, on their organic and executive sides, are let severely alone by the laymen. Whenever the parent and the teacher stand shoulder to c 81 82 Ideals and Democracy shoulder it is usually from the external point of view. Theoretically, the parent is interested in the school; practically, education is shaped by the schoolmen, as the taxpayer is too busy to trouble himself with the education of his children. Do you realize how few parents, and teachers even, have ever stopped to consider seriously what a complex Complexity of P rocess education really is and what a the educational complicated machine the school is becoming ? machine JJ QW man y f think you, under our present rapidly developing economic and industrial system, real- ize fully that the judgment and energy of both teachers and laymen are necessary in working out the educational problem? Consider for a moment what it means to carry on our educational existence. From the material side there are lands, and buildings, and textbooks, and schedules, and courses of study, and equipment of all kinds.^ There are taxes, and salaries, and school boards, and rules, and reports. There are the teachers them- selves, and janitors, and various school officers and employees. Then there is geography, and history, and composition, and reading, and spelling, and nature study, and physiology, and hygiene, and manual training, and music, and gymnastics, and drawing, and penmanship, and bookkeeping, and arithmetic, and domestic science, and domestic art; there is zoology, and botany, and physics, and chemistry, and physiography, and Latin, and French, and Spanish, and German, and algebra, and geometry, and more besides. There are organizations, and recitations, and study, and mental growth, and phys- ical development, and moral insight, and punishment, and examinations, and marks, and promotions, and failures, and discipline, and pleasures, and disappointments, and graduations. And what is it all about ? Our Educational Investment 83 We agree in a general way as to the meaning of education and the importance of the schools. As you think of it a moment can you organize your thoughts into such concrete form as to set forth a statement, satisfactory to yourself and to others, on the significance of it all? Now suppose you come into possession of a sum of money say five hundred dollars. You have at the moment no need for this amount, either for the support or pleasure of your family or yourself, or to settle outstanding bills. You merits must therefore desire at once to seek a safe and brin z returns profitable investment. To deposit your money in the bank may prove a safe measure, but if it draws no interest so placed you look elsewhere. You must realize upon your investment. You desire to put it somewhere at work that it may yield an increase. In seeking for an investment you proceed logically and thoughtfully. You listen to the advice and counsel of your friends. You contrast the successes or failures of those who have invested funds in this or that enter- prise. You talk with those whose business it is to look after such investments. You interview those who have for sale stocks or bonds or mortgages or bank shares or mining interests or lands or houses or goods or personal property, and you study the conditions and investigate the merits of each project. Finally you weigh the evi- dence and conclude accordingly. If you are a merchant you put yourself in touch with the temper of the times, the demands of the trade, the direction of public opinion. You endeavor The merchant to look into the future, and your goods are . and purchased after careful study. You want salable articles and those upon which you can realize. The investment must be a profitable one. If you are a 84 Ideals and Democracy farmer you study the markets, the last year's crop yield, and the prospects for the year to come. You contrast The farmer ^6 P^ces * one product with those of and another. Through investigation and exper- his problem ^Q^^Q^ you determine whether or not the soil is adapted to a particular crop, what effect this or that fertilizer has upon the yield, what irrigation and working of the soil will accomplish, how rotation of crops affects the output in fact, you make a business of farm- ing that your investment may bring returns. The stock raiser makes an equally intensive study of his vocation. He wishes to produce an animal for speed The stock or endurance or weight or beauty. He raiser's desires a horse for the track or for traffic, viewpoint an( j j^ gaudies the problem, having in mind a particular object. The demand is for poultry of size or of a particular delicacy of texture, and these matters engage his attention. An animal of a certain color is developed. Sheep, fowl, sea food, hogs, cattle, through cross breeding and care and feeding, are produced to meet the required demand. Everything that pertains to our material welfare, our comfort, our convenience, our commercial gain, is carefully worked over and planned and studied, that progress may be assured and development made possible. Our investments must bring returns. A bush, small and ill shaped, that grows by the road- side or in the swamp, or far within the recesses of the forest, is laid hold of and transplanted in the Contributions , .. _. . _. of the florist garden of Luther Burbank. In the original and hor- s t a t e the fruit is scant and small and hard ticultunst , , . and bitter, and rendered further useless by the presence of countless seeds. A few months of prun- ing and grafting and most careful attention, and behold ! a shrub, symmetrical, sturdy, producing fruit large and, Our Educational Investment 85 luscious and in quantity far in excess of the original yield. From a rose, small and unattractive, are born the most magnificent blossoms. The cactus, with weapons to repel those who would seek its fruit, is become an excellent and valuable food. How amply has investment brought returns in this particular field ! The railroad locomotive of an earlier day consumed an excessive amount of coal in producing sufficient energy to haul the train one mile. Little by little _ , . - The mecham- and step by step, through careful manage- C al world and ment and exact experiment and calculation, returns upon investment this amount was reduced; the construction of the engine was modified. When the amount of coal saved by one engine in traveling one mile was multiplied by the total number of miles traveled in a day, and this increased by the number of engines in use, a sum vast enough to produce a marvelous increase in dividends was saved. By watching carefully from the footboard of the engine the oil as it fell, drop by drop, from the cup to the bearings and gears, and by adjusting this flow to meet the actual requirements, a saving in a day was figured in oil alone such as would make a fortune for a poor man. Investments must pay. But how is it in education? Your merchant or farmer or stock man or florist or mechanic; your clerk or lawyer or banker or blacksmith or politician or financier are these considering their educational investments equally with those other investments in the business and material world ? How about the boys and girls who are to become the future citizens? Is such care and attention bestowed upon them as is accorded the colt and the cabbage? Is the average man as concerned in developing each year a better product from the school as he is in perfecting a larger variety of corn, a record-breaking horse, or a 86 Ideals and Democracy labor-saving and hence a money-maidng device? These things we look after carefully, and indeed not too carefully. We give them our personal attention. We do not leave them entirely to assistants and employees. We subscribe for papers and reports that we may study the stock quotations and follow the daily movements of the Businessmen markets of the world. We read scientific pay little articles in magazines written by experts and to 'their* investigators that we may keep in touch with educational the latest developments in commerce and manufacture and agriculture. We interest ourselves, and all too little, in the doings at our state capital and at the seat of national government, and we advise and argue and criticize and question as to the probable effect of a new legislative measure. We pursue with attention the findings in the medical world, the better to know how to cope with physical disorders. ' No time is too valuable, no energy too great, no monetary consideration too excessive to devote to matters concerning our material welfare, provided the investment, whether of time or energy or money, promises returns in dollars or satisfaction. To gratify ambition or pride or taste or desire for wealth, no effort is spared. But the education of the nation's children seems to be a secondary con- sideration, left largely in the hands of poorly paid em- ployees of the state men and women for the most part conscientious, and usually competent, but too often out of touch with the world of men and things, and therefore looked upon by the laymen as idealists and theorists. "Hold!" says the layman. "The teachers themselves do not agree on many of the details and some of the broad issues even. How then can I be of assistance? I have my business to attend to, and the school people are paid to do their work." Let it be said, however, that if this Our Educational Investment 87 indictment be true the fault lies not alone with the teacher. That so little has been settled in the educational world is largely on account of lack of sufficient Att't d f cooperation between taxpayer and teacher; layman one because so little thought is given their educa- caus ^setfled tional investment by the laymen. These condition of latter seldom endeavor to ascertain how the the schools account stands. They have no double-entry system of books for the school showing what it demands and what it returns. They seldom take an inventory or strike a balance or have the books audited or experted. The school is simply the place to which, during several years of their lives, the children go daily preparatory to enter- ing upon the more serious duties to follow. Education is a continued story without a climax. There is so much that remains unsettled. This whole matter reminds me of an incident related by ex-Governor Alva Adams of Colorado. An inmate of the state penitentiary was one day conversing with the warden. During the interview the prisoner indicated displeasure at his treatment at the hands of the prisoners' association. "But," said the warden, "I presumed you were well taken care of. Have they not looked to your comfort in matters of food and books and the like?" ' "Oh, yes, they 've brought me things," was the reply, "but you see it 's this way: they have given me nothing but magazines containing continued stories, and I am to be hanged on Friday." The average citizen possesses so little knowledge of the processes of education, of methods of obtaining results, or of the intricacies of the educational machine, that he contributes his portion of the running expenses, charges it up to profit and loss, and thinks little more about it. He blindly trusts that somehow the school will send his 88 Ideals and Democracy boy and girl back to him with what is called an education. He cannot for the life of him tell just where or how his Relation be- investment has yielded returns and where tween education it has not. If there exists any relation n^worldnot between putting money into schools and appreciated by extracting it from financial ventures he does not know it. His duty in giving time and thought to the betterment of educational method and endeavor, whether or not he has children to educate, he cannot see. The most important consideration before our people to-day is the proper education of the generation now in Duty of the scno l &&& those generations to come. It is parent to cor- not just that we leave that delicate organ- tifcriticize ** ism ~~ tlie growing, developing, expanding child and his educational necessities and wants to our teachers alone. The laymen should not criticize unless they attempt to study the methods and equipments of the school and the teachers as well, that light may be thrown upon the school and its product, and the educational investment made to yield more abundant returns. There is not one layman in a dozen, not one in a hundred, who has ever read a book on education or the conduct of the school or the nature of the boy. There is not one in a hundred who can even name such a book. Only an occasional parent has ever given thirty consecutive minutes to conversation with the man or woman with whom his boy or girl spends a large portion of each school day. The number of fathers is small indeed who have ever followed that boy or that girl to the schoolroom to note, at first hand, the progress made. And the teacher who is accused of being a theorist, of knowing nothing of business or affairs, of having no Our Educational Investment 8p conception of the so-called practical phases of life, how is it with her? It is the common comment of the busi- ness man that he can ''tell a teacher at first -,, 1 /TVI -i * ^ teacher sight. The pedagogue of two or three years' not altogether experience carries herself with an independent a theorist air. The average woman teacher manages her own business affairs. She is self-supporting and frequently the sole support of the family. She buys and sells. She has a bank account, small perhaps, and is conversant with the ordinary banking methods. She carries life insurance, makes investments, borrows money, gives mortgages, pays rent and taxes, buys furniture, and gains experience through suffering at the hands of unscrupulous promotors. She follows developments in the world of business, com- merce, industry, politics, religion, and gives her students the benefit of her knowledge. In a word, the teacher is less of a theorist in matters pertaining to the great world of life and activity than is the business man in affairs educational. Can any sane man imagine for a moment that the product of the school is less vital than the product of the shop ? Do newspapers consider it worth , ., . . - Taxpayer not while to devote space to discussions of great informed on educational questions while murders and educational prize fights and scandals abound so freely? And again I say that the average man has never read a single treatise on education its history, its method, its psychology. He does not suggest how the course of study may be improved, the training of the boy made to be more in harmony with his after-school life, the equip- ment bettered, or the school funds spent to greater advantage. In short, the average layman does not con- sider how the investment he has made and is making in education may yield a more substantial return. go Ideals and Democracy So negligent have been the laymen as regards their public schools and so slow the teachers to conform to changed conditions, that some of the far-seeing corpora- tions, finding they cannot secure the right sort of product from the schools, have organized educational concerns of their own. These they conduct at their own expense. Herein they train young men for the service of the cor- poration, trade, or business represented. Larger returns from investments in the business world mean a breaking away from traditions and the accepting Negligence of of tne new order of tnin g s brought about the public by the application of science to the arts, 'establishing ^ ne development of economic and industrial factory conditions, and the substituting of labor- saving devices and intricate and powerful machines for the hand labor of bygone days. Larger returns demand constructive thought and the transforming of ideas into action, rather than adherence to worn-out methods of imitation. And the great business concerns, realizing this, realize also that the school must step into line or be satisfied with returns inadequate to meet the demands of the day. These industrial corporations of which I am speaking see to it that in their schools there is a fine adjustment of courses. Those who support these schools nave made an in ^nsive study of the educa- lesson to tion of to-day and are not satisfied with the retums on the investment. They do not believe in chance or in "guess work" or in "hit-and-miss " investments. They do not take the school on trust. They wrench apart the doors of tradition; they test the strength and worth of methods and courses, and compare values ; they analyze their findings and strengthen the weak parts; they eliminate the useless, utilize the Our Educational Investment pj by-products, and build up the educational machine along the line of the demands of the day. All this is a sugges- tion of the necessity for a closer coming together of the layman and the teacher. It shows the desirability of the taxpayer looking into the details of education, that he may ascertain whether the investment is bringing ade- quate returns. When parents begin to take an active interest in the work of the school the teacher is encouraged and spurred on to greater effort. Through contact with men of affairs the teacher is enabled to puffincw- improve the school by gaining the point of a & ed b y interest view of the world at large. The boys and ****** girls are led to see that the school has a real meaning, because their fathers and mothers interest themselves in it. But it is not entirely the fault of the laymen that they are not in close touch with the school and its life. Many teachers welcome the parent into the classroom; but many others much prefer the parent should remain away and allow those * gaining "whose business it is " to conduct the schools co P eration as they choose. As a class, teachers have come to look upon parents who visit the school frequently as meddlers. They are supposed to hinder the progress of the school routine in general, since each parent is anxious mainly for the welfare of his own boy and expects the work to be shaped to meet his individual needs. The parent further expects that the teacher will devote more than the pro- portionate time allotment to John or Clara, and feels sure that partiality for other children is shown and that blame is attached where it does not belong. Let not the teacher forget that fathers and mothers are fathers and mothers, even though their judgment may at times be warped and twisted, and notwithstanding their 92 Ideals and Democracy opinions of John's ability and Clara's seriousness of pur- pose are not well founded. For after all, John's father and Clara's mother have rights and privileges rights that which the teacher must not ignore. If the must be teacher consult the parent as to his wishes ; recognized ., council with him on the progress his boy is making; study the home conditions, the temperament and viewpoint of the parent, and enlist the taxpayer on the side of the school, the latter will soon see his cooperation is desired. He will feel that he has an investment in the school, and that this investment demands his constant attention. If the parent can be made to understand that he is not an interloper when he visits the school ; that as a member of the firm it is understood he comes not to dictate, but as a counselor and to know what transactions are taking place, more fathers and mothers would take an active interest in school affairs, and these institutions would be made vastly more efficient than now. From another point of view it would be to the interest of teachers to seek an active cooperation with the tax- Codperation P avers - The whole matter of teachers' and teachers 1 salaries is now being threshed out the country over. As the increased cost of living has confronted the teacher, as it has confronted every other member of society, the strain has been great. Salaries are not adequate to meet the enlarged financial demands made upon the teacher. The average citizen takes the stand that the teacher is paid for twelve months' work and is generously allowed three months' vacation with no attendant responsibilities. He further believes that teachers are employed five days only each week, with evenings, Saturdays, and Sundays free. Hence, contends the citizen, the salaries are commensurate with results accomplished and with demands made upon the teacher. Our Educational Investment 93 This attitude and misconception on the part of men and women without the school would change were they familiar with the routine of the schoolroom Duties of and thoroughly acquainted with the exacting the teacher requirements of the teaching profession. Let renewed the teacher bring the parent to the school that the lat- ter may familiarize himself at first hand with the work of the classroom. Let the parent but fully appreciate what it means to qualify for the profession of teaching, through the several years of study and preparation; what it signifies to prepare, day after day, the several lessons in the school program. Let him realize the labor involved in reading and grading written papers, in correcting outlines and problems, in studying each individual child. Let him see how the teacher must reckon with each case of absence, tardiness, discipline; how he must bring up the slow or defective pupils and give extra work to the rapid or competent ; how he must suggest proper physical exercises, assist in games and sports, see that eyes are not overstrained and that all hygienic laws are observed; how he must insist upon proper observance of moral standards let the teacher through cooperation with the taxpayer lead him to appreciate the manifold duties and respon- sibilities resting upon the shoulders of the former. Then will the question of adequate salary for the competent teacher be satisfactorily settled. With all his duties, then, the teacher must have one other added to his list that of interesting the parents in the schools. Education is to-day so complex that the parent hesitates to examine into the organization of the school and besides, the school and courses of study and methods of arriving at results are vastly different from those of his early days. Life is so exacting in its require- ments that parents find difficulty in laying aside the P4 Ideals and Democracy regular routine of their affairs for a tramp off "cross lots" to the school. If the teachers are to be responsible for the establishment of parents' organizations, for cooperation and union of interests, more than ever must professional standards be raised and more than ever must we demand the teacher of purpose and of power. And what shall be the reward of such a teacher ? Withal his task is heavy. He meets hardships and discourage- ments. The results he aims at are not day's work always achieved. His power for good cannot be measured. More than any other calling is that of the true teacher a noble one. He deals with the future of the nations of the earth. He has it in his hand to shape the destinies of individuals. Shall he not be paid for his services? Is he not to receive a fitting compensation? The teacher has his reward. Pay for the work of the public schools of our country? Pay for the accom- plishments of Socrates and Pestalozzi and Mann and Barnard and Parker? Pay for the educational giants of the past and present? Pay for the multitude of teachers scattered over the length and breadth of our land ? These we cannot pay. Day by day, hour by hour, they receive their reward in the consciousness of tasks begun and accomplished, of arts turned to useful accomplishment, of sacrifices made, of character formed, of lives brightened and ennobled, of hearts made happier, of thoughts made better, and of minds directed to service for mankind ; in the realization of boys and girls who under this care and this guidance shall grow to be blessings to themselves and to the world. CHAPTER VII A MORE EFFICIENT SCHOOL THE era of educational cataloguing has not yet passed into history. A knowledge of the number of bones in the human body and their location is still looked upon in some quarters as one of the fundamentals in the study of physiology. To be able to recite in exact order the periods, ages, epochs, eras, and times subjects in geologic development argues to the minds still weak of many the mark of a trained geologist. The dates of battles, relative size of armies, in- trigues of courts, details in the line of princesses, time of discovery and exploration, mean historical knowledge. .Geography promises for some time to come to be made up in large measure of definitions of land forms, location and size of cities, heights of mountains, length of rivers, and territorial areas. Arithmetic is still too much a matter of rules than of reasons, and is so arranged and presented as to consider very little any information that may prove of value out of school. Language, drawing, and other elementary-school subjects; science, mathemat- ics, English, in the high school; philosophy, economics, and psychology as practiced in colleges and professional institutions all are taught with a greater or less bias toward the cataloguing method. Chronological order and quantity of material still count for more than ability to know where to go for information when a demand is created for it, or than a knowledge of how to study. The cataloguing method has from the beginning been 95 96 Ideals and Democracy applied to individuals. They have been classed as good or bad, rich or poor, high or low, cultured or uncouth. There are those who help and those who hinder, those who push and those who retard, those who smile and those who sulk. Some are classed as conservatives, some as radicals; some as optimists, others as pessimists; as progressives or as non-progressives; as builders or as obstructionists. In every department of life and thought we still find a strong tendency toward classification and cataloguing, in far too many cases considering this the end. We still live in the cataloguing age. This method of classification of individuals is based upon the place men occupy in the material world, the Lack of work they attempt to do, and the results vision retards they accomplish. The ultra-conservative, non- progress progressive, the old-is-good-enough-for-me type ot individual is perfectly content to "let Nature take her own course," as he thinks she has always done. He does not know that man, who, in the beginning, r/as largely the creature of his own environment, has, whenever progress has been made, taken hold of his environment and shaped it to suit his own needs. This type of man labors in the world of to-day but lives in the atmosphere of yesterday. His eyes see the wonderful changes wrought in the fields of commerce, industry, art, science, morals, the whole social fabric, but his mind does not compre- hend the meaning of these changes or the significance of this development. When not blind to progress he is fearful for the future and will be loyal to tradition for the sake of the "good old days." He is a conservative, and may easily develop into an obstructionist. The other type of man is not always content with things as he finds them, but he seeks to know how they may be improved. He knows that the world moves, and desires A More Efficient School gj to have a share in shaping this movement. Realizing that while evolution is a sure it is sometimes a slow progress, he pleases himself and others by preserving a happy disposition, coupled with judgment, poise, and balance. He works for the best good of all and thereby advances his own individual interests. In the educational world two distinct types or classes of people largely predominate. One of these holds for the methods, the curricula, the ideals of the fathers. Since progress has been made, why, ^tiwand say they, change a certainty for an experiment the radical: that may prove fatal ? The other class must advocate the new simply for the sake of the new, know- ing indeed, like the calamity howler, that "something is wrong," but having no knowledge of where the remedy is to be found or how to apply it. A few, and a few only, have so fully analyzed the conditions as to be able to take the valuable in the schools of the past and to use this in connection with modern thought and practice, to the end that our schools of to-day may be made to meet the demands imposed upon them. But note further: the question is an open one in the minds of many as to whether the wonderful progress made during the past few decades is due mainly to the work of the schools; as to whether school education, or that obtained from books, is real education, or that which comes from a study of things. The contention is made that development, advance, progress, come not because of but in spite of the schools. The school, they say, is superficial ; the world is actual. The idea further prevails that the school trains away from rather than toward the actualities of life, and that when the individual enters upon these actualities of life he is forced to unlearn many things taught him in the superficial atmosphere of the school. T g8 Ideals and Democracy "That which our school courses leave almost entirely out, we thus find to be that which most nearly concerns the business of life. All our industries would cease were it not for that information which men begin to acquire as best they may after their education is said to be finished. And were it not for this information that has been from age to age accumulated and spread by unofficial means, these industries would never have existed. Had there been no teaching but such as is given in our public schools, England would now be what it was in feudal times. The vital knowledge, that by which we have grown as a nation to what we are, and which underlies our whole existence, is a knowledge that has got itself taught in nooks and corners, while the ordained agencies for teach- ing have been mumbling little else than dead formulas." 1 It is safe to say that the school tends many times in its training toward dependency and away from self-reli- ance and leadership; it does not materially add to, even though it does not detract from, the initiative of the boy; and since many of the leaders go to school, it is clear that some of them must come away. That the school-trained man is not alone the educated man has ample proof. "The Boers taught a lasting lesson to the British in the philosophy of war, and proved to them that the school-trained man was not all." Before the British could successfully cope with their opponents they were forced to add to their school-made curriculum a few courses in the art of rough-and-ready warfare. In other words, it was necessary to adjust methods so as to meet the conditions. Certain it is that the school as now organized and conducted is not entirely, although perhaps largely, responsible for the rapid advances made during the past 1 Herbert Spencer. A More Efficient School pp few years either in the field of learning or elsewhere in human achievement. That educational institutions are, however, playing a remarkable part in our Themeanin upbuilding must not be overlooked. Here of a modern and there is to be found a modern school, school modern not merely as to time but in the character of its work, the ideals toward which it strives, and the results it achieves. These modern schools may be of elementary, secondary, or collegiate grade; they may be vocational, trade, industrial, commercial, or correspond- ence in type; they may emphasize agricultural, tech- nical, classical, scientific, or professional training. But whatever the character or the grade of school or the particular kind of instruction offered, the promoters of such institutions realize that education to be effective must meet a demand, and that if no real motive animates the learner the school must furnish this. The prevailing belief in the minds of some so-called educationalists has seemed to indicate that the schools should teach nothing that could in any way False be used in everyday life. One is almost conceptions forced to the conclusion that precaution was f educa " taken lest there should creep into the curriculum that which should have a relation to out-of-school existence. Education has by some been considered a process, by others a product. Both these standards are inadequate because both fall short of the ultimate. Education is both a process and a product. The process alone leads to no accomplished result; the product alone means form rather than character or content. Only as he of the school is enabled to react the better upon society because of his school experiences, are these experiences to be reckoned in terms of value. It not infrequently happens that those who have superior loo Ideals and Democracy home advantages and no financial handicap suffer most in the matter of a real schooling. And in some localities, in order to take advantage of the best things "vs."* in elementary education, a boy must be blind, public-school or ( j ea f > O r dumb; he must be incorrigible or a criminal; he must be crippled, or maimed, or a pauper, or mentally deficient. In other words, the State provides for its wards, or there is provided for those who are less than normal physically, morally, or mentally a form of education much superior to that offered many of our normal children. The reform schools and institutions for defectives are frequently more modem in their curricula and methods than are some of the public schools with which you are familiar, and many a boy, in order to gain admission to the former, has, of his own volition, become a criminal. Even the American Indian, fettered and circumscribed about as he is, and cruel and unjust though his treatment has been at our hands, still is offered an education which, unsuited though it be in many respects to his needs, is nevertheless superior to that given in many of our public schools. That all this is a sad commentary upon the character and efficiency and adaptability of the schools need only be suggested here. Educational standards differ widely in various localities. The unit of measure is not constant, or rather the unit of measure in one locality is not that in use m another. In Illinois they speak of raising of standard- thirty-one bushels of oats to the acre, in Iowa .ing i$eri thirty-two bushels of corn, in Minnesota or California so many bushels of wheat. In Texas in the old days they produced four bales of cotton to the mule. When this last statement is analyzed, you find that the labor of a negro and a mule for .a year produced four bales of cotton. The cotton raisers of certain sections A More Efficient Scho:ol 101 of Texas now say that this yield of four bales per mule has been increased one hundred per cent since the devel- opment of expeiimental and scientific farming. As one Texan put it to the writer, "The Professor Emeritus of mossback, antiquated methods must be displaced by the modern farmer." And then this same Texan goes on to say that the agricultural and mechanical colleges, together with the experiment stations, are the coming institutions of higher learning in the country, their work being far superior to that of the traditional college or university. These latter, he contends, are not responsible for advances even though "you can't throw a stone but you will hit a college." Now what does all tms mean? It would be manifestly narrow and unfair to say that the Texan is right in his conception of the "old education." He is . ,. . The school right, however, in his contention that as keen mus t give an a searchlight should be turned upon the product account of of the school as upon the negro and the mule. If the labor of these two does not produce eight bales of cotton, an investigation takes place that the cause may be ascertained. "You can't throw a stone but you will hit a college," and still too many college-trained men are failing every day men who go out from college carrying degrees attesting to the fact of their incompetence to work outside the schoolroom. These college graduates are of course not to be blamed for this, as in the schools they are not taught the meaning of the degrees. They learn to do many things poorly rather than a few things well, with the result that there is nothing for which they are thoroughly fitted. Your college-trained man ofttimes cannot foot a column of figures correctly, although he has had years of arith- metic and algebra and geometry, not to speak of ".' : /64*: :"*'' Ideals and Democracy trigonometry, calculus, and various branches of higher mathematics. He is unable to draw up a paper such as is demanded in the most common business Noticeable . . _._. . , t . - weaknesses transaction. He cannot be relied upon to in college compute interest, find the premium on an training . , r insurance policy, determine the cost of pa- pering or plastering a room, or to perform intelligently, accurately, and quickly any one of the many business problems constantly presenting themselves. He may at the same time have mastered rules and formulae governing mathematical processes that will be needed only once in a lifetime. The school of the past placed its stamp of approval upon memory processes chiefly. It dealt with ideas Criticism ra ^ ner than with things. It trained so-called on the faculties rather than human minds. The old school definition of education in these schools was the "harmonious development of all the faculties," and when we hear this definition given to-day it comes to us as a voice from the past. The old schools were "his- torical mosaics." In them subjects, not boys, were taught. A knowledge of things classical was the element of chief importance. Individuality received slight consideration, and the teaching was done en masse. But how aptly this description of the old school fits many of our present-day schools. "Faculties of mind," The child and ra ^ ner than individual powers, are still of the machine: main concern. Memory, not thought, is a comparison trained Children are taught in bulk, the work being handed out to them without regard to indi- vidual tastes, or needs, or capacities. Just as a bundle of wheat made up of grain, straw, weeds, and various foreign substances is fed to the machine, so the child is given good and poor alike. The machine eliminates the A More Efficient School 103 waste; the boy is as likely to retain the useless as the useful, and store away that which should never have been given him. The machine is the object of care and atten- tion that it may perform its functions without unneces- sary strain or friction; the boy must adjust himself as best he can to receive and assimilate his mental doses and react from their effects. Charles Mills Gayley says: "Too often we have reduced literature to a card catalogue and history to tissues and bones. We have reasserted the creed that learning to be real must be dark, to be deep must be narrow. We have multiplied swells and slopes, with never a view in sight. We have invented the thesis. We have invented the thesis that cannot survive unless it is buried in footnotes." l While there is in many respects an analogy between the school of the past and that of to-day, and while, again, progress has been rapid and standards and ideals have been greatly raised, and methods and results have been materially increased, we have still some things to learn from the old school. Education in past time came from books, but the books were few, the equipments meager, the courses simple. The things done were usually well done. Early specialization was not thought of, and much attention was given to oral expression, to spelling, to mental arithmetic, to legible writing. Many agree with the "wise ones" that "The three R's still . . Are the things to be learned by our youth to-day; For of all the branches taught, the pick Are readin' and writin' and 'rithmetic." To-day all is different. The complexity of the cur- riculum; the multitude of studies caused by division of i Idols of Education, p. 108. 104 Ideals and Democracy subjects and continual additions to the course of study; the pressure that is brought to bear upon each grade of school by the one next above to accomplish Our present . ... , , . . /. school condi- an impossible amount in a given space of tions less time; the nervous strain on the part of both teachers and taught, resulting from the high tension under which the school is constantly working; the many outside interests, the social amenities, the societies, the fraternities and sororities, the excessive demands in competitive athletics all these tend to superficial think- ing, to lack of thoroughness, to a general knowledge of many things without a complete grasp of anything. There is as little in an education obtained under extreme conditions of this sort as Lincoln claimed was to be found in the speech of Douglas in the famous Alton debate, which he said contained as "little substance as soap made by boiling the shadow of a pigeon that had starved to death." Did not the school of a half-century past, crude and undeveloped though it was, meet the demands of its The school ^^ an ^ ?> enera ^ on m fuller measure than the of to-day present-day school meets the demands imposed preeminent upon it? We ^ not see kj n g to poi nr a com . parison between the educational workshops of past time and those of the present. As a human institution, the present-day school is far and away the best the world has ever seen. But that the old school was in many respects better adapted to the ideals of its own times than is the school of to-day to the ideals of the times in which we live, is the point here being made. In other words, the school seems to lack power of adaptability and adjust- ment, and adaptability and adjustment mean thorough- ness, and thoroughness means efficiency. Before there was division of labor, and before A More Efficient School 105 specialization had been carried to its extreme limits, every community was self-sustaining, every family an industrial unit, every individual a complete thinking machine. One section of the country did not condiiionf: have to rely upon another for the common the then and necessities of life, and individual was not as dependent upon individual as is the case to-day. From the raw material to the finished product seemed only a step, as the converting process was accomplished through the aid of few hands and no intricate machinery. To-day a shoe, in its journey from the raw material to the usable article, often passes through the hands of threescore men; while our fathers wore boots made entirely by themselves, from the tanning of the hide through the various subsequent processes. An ordinary writing pen, from the time it is stamped from the sheet of metal until it passes through the last polishing process, has been handled by two dozen persons; but a quill, shaped by a knife blade, sufficed for writing Penn's Treaty and the Declaration of Independence. The watchword then of the school of our fathers was adaptability. The lesson we must learn from the past, if our education is to meet the demands of this opening century, is the necessity for an adaptable and efficient school. Efficiency ity exempli- is not measured by what a man knows but ^ ec lH p as t by what he can do with what he knows. It is not a question of a man's brain area as to whether or not he is educated. It is a question, rather, of how he applies his brain power. Adaptability is the lost chord in education. We are constantly spoiling good mechanics for poor clerks, or good clerks for poor clergy- men, or are converting excellent, agricultural timber into second-rate politicians. The inefficiency of the school io6 Ideals and Democracy drives many away, or gives them such a training as to render them only indifferent workers in the various fields they seek to enter. Too often it fails to fit them to enter any trade, profession, or calling, and they are thrown back on the same world they should serve, finally to claim from it that which they say it owes them a living. It is clear that the curricula of elementary, secondary, and higher educational institutions are becoming broader and more comprehensive as the art of teaching and the science of education develop. The tendency is to con- sider the school more and more from the social side, and courses are to some extent being fitted to the learner rather than compelling the learner to conform to the courses of study. But for the most part we continue to cling to old courses and methods and systems; to conceptions and ideals that are outgrown, antiquated, moth-eaten; that do not meet modern conditions; that are as foreign to the spirit of our present-day civilization as would be the pony express, the scythe and cradle, the hand printing press, or the tallow candle. This condition of non-adjustment is brought about, first, by our tenacity in holding to old courses of study, dusty with ages of tradition and mildewed Conditions , . making for by decades of bigotry, under the belief that ?~ what educated our fathers will educate us; and second, because of the excessive growth of courses within the school. In the institutions of ele- mentary grade we have added to the traditional subjects physical culture, expression, gymnastics, drawing, in- dustrial work in its many forms for both boys and girls, domestic science, home economics, foreign languages, elementary algebra, nature study. The high-school problem is even more complicated, for while the college above is crowding much of its former work down into A More Efficient School 107 the high school, it is the avowed ambition of the spe- cialists in the latter institution to push forward various studies to the third and fourth years of the high-school course. Here higher mathematics, the sciences, history, English, and the languages all clamor for a place. To clear the atmosphere, manual training and industrial subjects were introduced, but instead of drawing together the various humanities, or giving an industrial bias to the school idea, these industrial subjects are frequently taught along parallel lines with the traditional work. There is no actual articulation of book, laboratory, and shop courses, and as yet there is no complete solution of the time problem. In the college, the university, the pro- fessional school, an intensive knowledge of more than a narrow field is an impossibility, owing to the multiplicity of subjects and the extreme division of subjects into many courses, caused by the growth of specialization, the de- velopment of new forms of knowledge, the application of science in the arts and industries, and the creation of new fields of study and research. It is not necessary, even though it were possible, to return to the "good old days." It is not essential that every boy and every girl should be schooled in all the processes of manufacture of a coat simplicity or a carriage. The argument frequently and ric ^ n fy e made that the training of the country boy of a half -century past was far superior in every way to that of the city chap of to-day must not be forced too far. It is true, nevertheless, that our schools too often give sanction to the spendthrift spirit of our age, and couple with their progressive tendency the superficial atmosphere and an ambition to be lavish with rather than to conserve material. They teach how to be extravagant rather than how to be economical. As Dean Russell so io8 Ideals and Democracy forcibly puts it, the modern schools should ''teach how to live better on less and have something over." They must return to the older days to the extent of learning from them the lesson suggested by MacDonald, where he says, "There is a great deal more to be got out of things than is generally got out of them, whether the thing be a chapter in the Bible or a yellow turnip, and the mar- vel is that those who use the most material should so often be those who show the least result in strength of character." 1 The very ideas put forward by those who sought to wrench the present-day school from the grip of tradition have been too often perverted and misinterpreted. "Soft pedagogies" have in some quarters all but ruined the schools. "Interest" and " self-expression " and "initi- ative" have been twisted and warped and wrenched until the terms are no longer recognizable in their new forms. Old-time discipline has been lost and no disci- pline is often the substitute. Reverence, consideration for others, obedience, courtesy, generosity, have all too frequently given place to arrogance, incivility, selfish- ness, and perversity. Thoroughness and efficiency are lacking, and unless the school adapts itself to the growing demands of the age it will, as an institution, be left far behind in the onward march of civilization. Now while there is danger of carrying specialization too far there is also great danger of being too rigid in our ... requirements, unless the future life work of Specialization: Jt . -. . - ,. . its value the individual is absolutely determined. And when properly because we insist that what is "sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander," failures are constantly being made and slipshod, inefficient work is often the order of the day. Before one may graduate i Sir Gibbie, p. 8. A More Efficient School 109 from the ordinary high school one must, willy-nilly, be put through a year of elementary algebra and a year of plane geometry. It frequently happens that a boy or girl is not mathematically inclined and cannot think in terms of mathematics. The year's work is a failure, even though it has been conscientiously done, and a second or a third year still finds the student at the same grind. Tradition has it that every one should know the elements at least of algebra and geometry. The student may go to a college that demands these subjects for entrance, even though he may not plan to do so while in his high-school course. Besides, it is claimed that the study of mathematics brings to the student a certain kind and quality of mental discipline such as can be had through the study of no other subject. This claim is based upon theory rather than upon any tangi- ble evidence. Both boys ana girls are constantly failing, and are unhappy in their school life, and in many instances drop out entirely, not only because of lack of prep- . selective aration and adaptability but because of their process distaste for a subject in which they have no interest and the application of which to their later life work they cannot see. Not that this latter would be a conclusive argument for allowing such students to drop the subject; but, as a matter of fact, unless these students go to college this mathematics will probably have little application to their after-school life. In any event, one year of such subject is of no great material value after all. It is worth no more than would be one year only of a foreign language. That girls fail less frequently than do boys in the study of algebra is no argument for com- pelling the non-college-going girl to take the subject if she has a distaste for it, as girls are more compliant than no Ideals and Democracy are boys; they work harder, worry more, and perhaps suffer more in the long run. The field of mathematics is here drawn upon simply to make clear the point under consideration. That all desirable knowledge cannot be secured in the few years devoted to school education is clear, and stand- ards of scholarship could be immeasurably raised were substitutions more freely allowed in the high school. Practical chemistry and applied biology would frequently be of much greater value to girls than algebra or geom- etry, and in the same way bookkeeping and business arithmetic would better be given the boys. This illus- tration is used only as a suggestion of what could be done in extreme cases. Students would, under these conditions, do more satisfactory work and remain in the school for a longer period than would otherwise be the case, and would accomplish more of advantage in the real life of the home or of the business world. It is easy to understand that the present-day education, to be effective, must be practical in the best sense of that Value of term. Many a girl is prevented from pursuing domestic courses in domestic science or in some other branch of home economics, in schools where such courses are offered, simply because of the number of other studies demanded for graduation. Any girl who desires to take up domestic science in school should be permitted to do so, and this means that all schools should offer such courses. Left to choose, the vast majority of boys studying arithmetic in the upper grammar grades would prefer the mathematics offered in the well-regulated commercial department, because the work herein given is usable, and the pupils know it. The desire to fit the student for the work of an advanced grade is too strong, and as a result the high-school and A More Efficient School m elementary-school courses are not sufficiently rounded out or complete in themselves. All along the line the work must be made more adaptable. Schedules Read j ustment must be adjusted, and in the elementary, the vs. total secondary, the higher institutions, the un- ******** necessary must be eliminated. All subjects are honorable, and one should hesitate long before dropping any one entirely from the curriculum. What is needed is a read- justment and an elimination of large masses of material within the subjects themselves, thus giving opportunity for broader or wiser selection, and more intensive work upon those portions of subjects studied. As Payne points out, the fact that certain studies are on the program of so many schools is a proof of partial worth at least. 1 No endeavor should be made to eliminate the studies themselves, as every subject is of some value to every individual, but by change and modification within subjects a much more serviceable course of study may be arranged. Not only should the product of the school shape and mold his environment, but we must recognize that the years of school are very active years of life. During these years the boy and girl are not merely learning how to live; they are indeed living. And during these years "Education," as John Ruskin says, "does not mean teaching people what they do not know. It means teach- ing them to behave as they do not behave. It is not teaching the youth the shapes of letters and the tricks of numbers and then leaving them to turn their arith- metic to roguery and their literature to lust. It is, on the contrary, training them into the perfect exercise and kingly continence of their bodies and souls. It is a painful, continual, and difficult work, to be done by i Public Elementary School Curricula, p. 181. Ideals and Democracy kindness, by watching, by warning, by precept and by praise, but above all by example." 1 Criticism alone will never result in an improved con- dition of the schools. The foregoing pages set forth a statement of the educational situation as it actually is at its weakest point, and offer a suggestion of the lessons to be drawn from the school of a half-century past rather than being an arraignment of present methods and results. We may well pause and ask ourselve the follow- ing questions: Are our public schools on the highroad to perdition? Is education out of step with the social and economic progress of *the time ? Are teachers incompetent, super- intendents mere politicians, school boards dishonest? Are courses of study antiquated and teaching methods moth-eaten? Are our elementary schools conducted solely in the interest of those who are to go to high school ? Are our universities and higher institutions of learning still dominating the high school, and dictating as to text- books, requirements for graduation, and personnel of the teaching body ? If the public school is to-day in this pre- dicament then indeed are the times "out of joint," and our educational system in sad and sorry plight. What, then, is the situation; what the remedy? Month after month we see in the^educational magazines, general periodicals, and newspapers one long, continuous Destructive wa ^ ^ t ^ ie weaknesses, the shortcomings, the criticism crimes, the heresies of the modern system of not helpful educatioiL The tales that are told throu gh the columns of the press and the word pictures painted from many a platform are startling if true. Surely in another decade we shall all become pessimistic, dis- couraged, disheartened, and leave the schools in the i Crown of Wild Olives, Section 144. A More Efficient School 113 hands of those who see only failure and ruin for those who continue through and beyond the grades; and ruin and failure for those who, at the first opportunity, go to do battle in the world of men and things. The truth is it has become fashionable to growl at the shortcomings of our school system. Some severe criti- cisms have been made on the "unrealness" of present-day education. Our educational scheme is inadequate, our methods less than perfect, our equipments not of the best, our standards for teachers not all that could be hoped. Even so, have our economic and social, our industrial and commercial, institutions reached that high plane of efficiency where no further progress is possible? In point of fact, all our institutions church, society, home, and the commercial organizations as well are less progressive than could be desired. And let it be remem- bered that it is only recently that society in general has come to believe in efficiency. Frequently the principle of efficiency in organization and administration has first been worked out in education and has later found appli- cation in local, municipal, or state institutions. Those who to-day are making the loudest outcry against present-day education are not fully alive to the tremendous accomplishments educational- jj nsat i s f ac t ory wise of the past few years. Then, too, those conditions who complain loudest frequently contribute least toward the betterment of undesirable conditons. Did they study carefully the landmarks of history they would observe that lasting changes are brought about slowly and by degrees. We must not be complacent or self-satisfied. Every thinking member of the teaching profession knows full well that there are many weaknesses in our schools. Many of our teachers and administrators the country over are striving to better 114 Ideals and Democracy the conditions. Little by little, courses of study are being modified to meet the needs of the individual boy and girl. Slowly but surely, the standards of teaching are being raised; teachers are touching elbows with life, and what was once a craft is coming to be a profession. Education to-day is a science, teaching an art. Methods are more modern than they formerly were, school- books are more interesting and less slavishly followed, equipments more varied and valuable, and politics and corruption less frequent. The school reaches a larger percentage of pupils than ever before, and the school life of individuals is greater. Criticize as you will the school of to-day, there was never a time since the dawn of civilization when education was so far-reaching and the school so efficient. Is the primary school conducted only in the interest of those who go into the high school? What of the courses in the grades in applied art and design, in indus- trial work, in home economics, in physical education, in hygiene and health studies, in agriculture, in moral and humane training, in world-peace movements, in literary appreciation, in music, in biography, in self-government, in social service, and in geography, history, commerce, and travel through the stereopticon and the moving picture! And all over the land there are universities gladly accord- ing recognition for any high-school subject successfully completed. More than this, it must not be forgotten that the efficiency of a system of education depends not alone upon meeting the needs of the individual boy and girl; it is conditioned as well upon the total number reached, whatever the length of time the participants may remain under instruction. A college education is as common to-day as was a high-school education in the days of our fathers. A More Efficient School 1/5 In tfce rural school a new note has been struck. Here efficiency is demanded as well as in the city school. Enlarged grounds, improved buildings, sanitary surround- ings, better libraries and appliances, a more thoroughly equipped teaching force, is the order of the day. Super- vision is closer and more profitable, salaries on the increase, the movement for retirement provision steadily gaining headway. And in institutes, conventions, and meetings slowly but surely the trend is from the super- ficial to the sane. Disraeli wisely said that it is "easier to criticize than to correct." It does not require genius to tear down. The school to-day is crying aloud for builders those who can construct upon an already well-laid foundation a superstructure that shall be sane and sound. Teachers need to be heartened, not dismayed. Let the voice and pen of the calamity howler be used to encourage and uplift. Let no one dare criticize and destroy only as a substitute is offered one better adapted to meet the demands of a developing people. Weak spots there are, many of them. We need more and better teachers. We need higher professional stand- ards. We need particular curricula for par- The call for ticular conditions. We need schools that fit construc- tor life and its manifold problems. We need vocational bureaus and experts to keep boys and girls from entering the ' 'blind-alley" occupations for which they are not fitted and in which advancement is impossible. We need to apply everywhere the principle of efficiency. The school needs men and women who are not satisfied with present conditions. It needs those with moral stam- ina who are not afraid to cry out against existing evils. It needs at the same time men and women who are not blind to the accomplishments of present-day education n6 Ideals and Democracy and who with clear vision, broad outlook, and large op- timism are ready to make onward for a more efficient school. It needs men and women sufficiently brave and progressive to acknowledge the good in the educational system of yesterday and to work toward an improved to- morrow. It needs men and women who can hitch the curriculum to the community, can make of the school- room a workshop, and bring factory and forge and office into close communion with the home and the school. Such are the men and women we need. Such are the demands we make for a more efficient school. Men and women to produce such a school must be as ready to praise as to blame; must construct, not destroy. Where they tear down they must build again. And if from our leaders there is not forthcoming that help and inspira- tion to take us out of bondage, to whom shall we turn? How then shall the schools be made to meet more nearly the demands of the present day demands growing out of economic, social, and industrial conditions, not only differing widely from those in vogue a half -century past but vastly changed from those pertaining less than a decade ago? First: By emphasizing early specialization less, and by laying a strong general groundwork upon which the spe- cialty may later be built with safety. This may mean the placing of greater emphasis than at present upon specialization at the proper period. Second: By considering each school, whether elemen- tary, secondary, or other type, an institution in and of itself, not simply a fitting school for the one above. Even the various years or grades of school must be looked upon as complete units. This does no violence to the other consideration that from the kindergarten through A More Efficient School HJ the university the school system should be so many con- secutive years of work with no breaks from first to last. It simply means that a pupil must find in any grade or year that which meets his needs at a particular period of his development. Third: Teachers must realize the value of subjects other than their own, providing for adequate considera- tion of each subject, and recognizing relative values and individual worths. Fourth: While certain subjects are to be required of all, and this especially within definite courses or depart- ments, substitutions for such requirements may, under conditions, be freely allowed. Fifth: Time must be gained through the process of elimination not of subjects but of portions of subjects. The selective process must be used constantly, owing to the rapid growth of subjects and the increasingly great amount of desirable educational material. Sixth : The work must be made more thorough than at present. Superficial thinking and superficial doing must be displaced by thorough, conscientious, intensive thought and action. The textbook must be used less, the formal giving place to real, thought-provoking exercise. The pupil must be required to work out his own salvation, and each individual must be looked upon as a separate entity, demanding special consideration and with a devel- oping personality distinctly his own. The schools will, under these conditions, be made more efficient, and will become better adjusted to meet the imperative and exacting demands of a critical and a progressive people. While there are none among us sufficiently wis6 to dogmatically proclaim this or that system of education the absolutely true one, we are sure that, with all its n8 Ideals and Democracy shortcomings, our general scheme of education in America is undoubtedly superior to that found to exist elsewhere throughout the world. While we may not say that this and this only shall be taught, we may ask ourselves the question: What is the duty of the school and of the teacher ? Is it not to teach boys and girls, young men and young women, how to do their own thinking? Must not the school and the teacher give the necessary educational stimulus, the mental momentum, and then leave the solu- tion of the great problems to the pupils themselves? Education as a science is developing; teaching as a fine art is being comprehended; the school as an insti- tution is beginning to serve the people as never before. We are moving forward. CHAPTER VIII VOCATIONAL ADJUSTMENT NO subject is making a stronger appeal to the country at large than that of vocational adjustment. It is only in very recent years that there has been any attempt to assist the boy or girl in the choosing of a voca- tion or calling. Indeed, the beginning has The hardly yet been made. In the past the eld- apprentice- est son has frequently carried on his father's ship $ y stem work. This has been done regardless of aptitude or desire on the part of the boy or of opportunities offered in the given field of activity. Under the old apprenticeship system the boy was handed over to the tradesman, and, after several years of grind, was expected to come out of this school of hard knocks, an adept. Usually the boy had no voice in selecting the line of work he was to follow. The choice had been made by the father with- out regard to capacity or temperament; and the oppor- tunity for advance in the craft chosen was no more an element in the equation than was that of a survey of the local field. In any event the boy, without expert guid- ance, would be unlikely to choose wisely, even if permitted to select his future work. For three decades the manual-training high school and the trade school have been occupying opposite Trade sides of the educational arena. The avowed teaching vs. purpose of manual training in the high school educ ^^ s has been for all-round development. It has been declared to be educational in character. Those in up 120 Ideals and Democracy charge of such schools have been careful to have it under- stood that trades were not taught, and somehow there grew up the idea that to learn a trade was beneath the dignity of those who could afford to attend public or private high schools. On their side, the trade schools were narrow and restricted. As the work of the manual-training school was general and desultory and led nowhere in particular, so the trade-school work was one-sided. All the richness and culture were squeezed out, and only the dry husks of technique were left. And the trade school offered to an individual pupil work in a particular line only. With the change in educational thought that has come upon us in the last half -score years there has developed an understanding that manual training, as generally taught, is not necessarily industrial education, and that the old form of apprentice or trade-school work is not vocational in the broader and truly educational sense. We have come to know that what is vocational in the proper meaning of the term is truly cultural, and that there is no divorce between culture and accomplishment. To work with tools in the shop or with materials at the domestic-science table in the laboratory does not necessarily imply a training vocational in character. Work to be truly vocational must point toward a definite end. In other words, the pupil does not merely make or construct from a so-called educational viewpoint; there must be motive underlying the effort. Hundreds of boys and girls are leaving our schools at the close of the compulsory school age and are going directly into trades and pursuits for which they are by temperament totally unfitted. Moreover, no amount of training would render many of these capable of promotion in their fields of endeavor or give to them the capacity Vocational Adjustment 121 to enjoy their work. The necessity of earning a livelihood or the desire to help support the family forces many of these into wrong channels. In numerous in- stances they are dissatisfied with the school, leading or have no appreciation of the significance of non ~ an education. They can look no farther than ad ^ U5tment to the immediate future. Again, they are lured by false notions of independence. They desire to be self-support- ing. The prevailing tendency toward extravagance in dress, even among young people, is a considerable ele- ment here. The well-dressed young man, working for a living wage merely, is the ideal of the younger boy. The new hat or tasteful gown worn by the girl behind the counter rouses envy in the soul of the girl in school. That the girl behind the counter is poorly nourished and out of tune with her daily occupation is not understood by the former. This condition at times leads boys and girls to take at a pitiably low wage the first job that offers. They find when too late the difficulties of read- justment. Such positions and jobs prove often nothing more or less than "dead-end " or "blind-alley" occupations, and there is constantly coming up to us the moan of the "misfit."'" In many instances the position, which at the moment promises the most in salary, is the least satis- factory for the reason that it leads simply into a "blind alley." In the beginning the salary may be adequate to support the young man or woman. Later in life, when larger draft is made in a financial way, no outlook for increased salary appears, and the ability of the employees does not warrant their employers in promoting them to superior positions at more lucrative compensation. We have thus a large army of so-called "unemployables." Did these young people take the long look; did their parents, their teachers, or other advisers help them to 122 Ideals and Democracy understand the dangers to come from lack of vocational adjustment; were they led to see how in the end time and money could be saved by proper placement, many young people would remain in school for a longer time. Not alone is this adjustment needed in the large cities, but in the towns and rural communities as well. Girls as well as boys must receive due consideration. Vocational guidance, so called, must be in the nature of adjustment of the individual to his life \\iork. To-day the choice of a vocation is due largely to accident. It is a case of the "blind leading the blind." In many instances little choice is exercised by any one. The boy simply "drops into" a place. There is no study of vocational opportunities. Many American fathers, especially mechanics and tradesmen, or those who have risen from poverty to plenty, strongly advise their sons against following the father's trade or calling. Endeavor is not made to ascertain if the boy be fitted for the work, as many times he is. The workingman believes his son should not be compelled to work as he worked and urges him into a profession in which in later years he may prove a misfit. Men and women must be schooled in essential lines in order to properly assist these young people. Every large school or system of schools should be provided with competent men and women whose business it is to coun- sel not alone with those now in the school but also with those outside, looking toward a better adjustment. With proper vocational guidance, with some one to study the abilities, aptitudes, and desires of the individual, to know intensively the industrial and economic conditions in the local environment, the individual may be directed into the most desirable channels. But inability to advance financially is not the only Vocational Adjustment 123 disadvantage under which the misfits later find themselves. The pleasure and satisfaction which is the rightful portion of every individual, these misfits never get out of life. With an equal wage and even a longer working day in a more arduous task but withal a task for which the indi- vidual is fitted, the work will be a joy where before it was drudgery. Temperament and training are considerable factors here. For proper training must make humans as well as machines. The "refined pleasures of life" find all too little place, whether with man or master, and no one is properly adjusted to his vocation who does not find mixed with the cares, the responsibilities, and the weariness of his day's work that eminent joy and satisfaction which, after all, make the work worth while. It is a crime to simply provide operatives for industrial machines, for- getting that a deeper and more fundamental obligation is that occupational adjustment that prepares for the vocation of living. This brings us at once to the proposition that adjust- ment must be along the literary and traditional lines as well as in the industrial phases. There is danger, in this industrial age, of experts and humanities enthusiasts "going to seed" on the necessity for purely industrial work. Those who speak ' Corker of vocational education usually think in terms of brick and mortar and stone and steel, of building materials, of industrial projects, of occupations of the trade, of traffic, of commerce. And to the rank and file vocational adjustment signifies an adjustment to indus- trial occupations only. Never must we lose sight of the value of literature, and history, and music, and art. Those finer qualities of the mind to which the best in literature makes its appeal are essential to complete 124 Ideals and Democracy living. They are of even greater necessity to the day laborer than to the king of finance or the man of leisure. The proper employment of the leisure hours of the laboring classes is one of the most vital and perplexing problems with which we have to deal. Lives grow lean and dwarfed when cut off from the refining flavor of poetry and music. Books are not all, but the qualities of soul and sense cannot grow upon the daily newspaper alone. The man of toil must have lei- sure hours, and the taste for literature and pictures and music and nature will bring pleasure to the worker and contentment to the home. The man of literary tastes and tendencies, and the employer, need just as much a first-hand touch with tools and materials, that their leisure hours may be healthfully employed, and that they may gain the viewpoint of the laborer and be in sympathetic relations with him. For it is not alone those who labor at forge and factory who are misfits. It is not only the callings and the crafts that furnish blind-alley occupations. Many adjustment a congregation suffers long and acutely un- applied der the administrations of a spiritual adviser professions w ^ cnose a profession neither wisely nor well. Careful study and expert guidance would have produced of the clergyman a mechanic or statesman of the highest order. There are lawyers who should be farmers and engineers who should be printers; and teachers there are, or rather those who are drawing teachers' salaries, conscientious and scholarly, who, under proper placement at an early age, would now be engaged in other occupations to the peace of mind of pedagogue, of pupil, and of parent. There are four fundamental factors underlying this whole matter of vocational interpretation and adjustment that Vocational Adjustment here must receive consideration. They are, first, the dominant interests of the child; second, the economic condition of the family of which the child is a part; third, the occupational opportunities offered in the given locality; and fourth, con- sideration for the future prospects and needs of the community, and the country at large. In considering the dominant interests of the child let the distinction be drawn as between vocational education and vocational adjustment. Vocational edu- The cation is specific education, and this should dominant not be emphasized at too early an age. Voca- interests tional adjustment implies a study of tendencies and capacities; a seeking after dominant interests and the developing of these possibilities and interests. In a modern school, working under a rational course of study, all pupils may be given a thorough grounding in funda- mentals while at the same time giving due consideration to these dominant interests of the individuals. It is claimed, and with absolute justice, that the individual should be kept pliable; that he should be educated in such fashion that without serious inconvenience or with- out loss of energy or time he may, should occasion require, pass from one occupation to another. This ability pre- supposes a general rather than a special training in early life. All of this may still be brought about through general education in the fundamentals an education that is as essential to the clerk as to the clergyman, to the plowman as to the painter. But the study of these fundamentals in schools need not be pursued at the ex- pense of work that makes its appeal to the particular child. And these fundamentals afford one of the channels through which the work of vocational adjustment is to be carried on. 126 Ideals and Democracy When thoroughly developed, any plan for adequate vocational adjustment must begin at an early age per- haps with the child's first years at school. An excellent start has been made in the establishment of vocational courses in certain high schools, and in pre-vocational courses in grammar or intermediate schools. In the light, however, of what has been said of the necessity for enriching and humanizing the vocational work, let me hazard the statement that the work of vocational guid- ance should begin in the first school years. It is not enough to say that there is danger from early specializa- tion; that mistakes will be made if at too tender an age the life work of the boy or girl be determined. Whether we will, or not, these boys and girls leave school and enter fields that later prove unproductive and distaste- ful. Under the best system mistakes will be made; it is a question of producing the least number of misfits. If the interests of the boy change, the work of the school must, in a measure, adapt itself to the boy. The sooner the dominant interest takes a new direction the sooner will those who watch the development of the individual be able to eliminate methods and materials that point in the wrong direction. Visits must be made with the young children to factory and mine and mill; to store and print shop and drafting room; to art gallery and shipyard and can- excursions nerv ; to justice court, and bank, and dairy farm ; to library and bindery and lighting plant. These experiences the child needs as a working background to help him apply the knowledge he gains at home and at school. Records must be kept of these visits; of tend- encies noted and of desires expressed, just as records are kept in history or arithmetic or science. And when a dominant interest is found, there must be thrown around Vocational Adjustment 127 the boy or girl opportunities for further development, not with a view of narrowing the vision or compelling early decision. Under these conditions the boy or girl will the sooner show a "sagging back" and a drooping interest that might otherwise be years in cropping to the surface. This fitting of the course of study to the pupil will result in a more rational course of study than we now have. It will further react in keeping pupils in school, and lessen the number of those who for one reason and another drop back from class to class, or leave the school entirely. Enlightened vocational interpretation and a correspond- ing enrichment in the courses of study will -do more than all other forces combined to produce efficiency in school from kindergarten to university. The aptitudes and de- sires as exemplified by the boy through his school studies, while of the greatest importance, leave out of account elements of the highest significance. The out-of -school life of the boy and girl, when watched and directed, fur- nish criteria for wise conclusions. The playtime of the boy finds him natural and free from restraint. In his play the boy exhibits tendencies and possibilities other- wise unknown to either himself or his associates. In his plays and games, in his out-of-school life generally, in his reading, may ofttimes be found the key to future accomplishment. School and home life must cooperate, and the parents must report to the school, as now the school reports to the parent. We shall soon come +o know, therefore, that this guid- ance is to begin at an early age; that the dominant interests of the child are to be studied; that every oppor- tunity is to be offered for the change of this dominant interest. And withal, the tendencies of the pupil as exhib- ited through his literature, his history and biography, his art, his music, his play, his out-of-school visits, must be 128 Ideals and Democracy as closely watched and fostered as are those tendencies pointing industrialward. The second factor, that of the economic condition of the family, demands serious consideration. Generally speak- ing, we may assume that the boy or girl coming from a home below the normal financial level will be unable to take advantage of more than a grammar-school education. Where the circumstances of the family are such that the child is needed to help in its support, we may expect boys and girls to leave school at the end of the compulsory age period. This means that such boys and girls must select for their future work some craft or calling lying within their ability. To be sure, there is no hard and fast line here, and individual tendencies, native capacity, strong determination, may overcome drawbacks and difficulties. However, we should hardly expect the son of the least opportunitied, from a financial point of view, to be able to give the years to preparation that would be required in engineering or law; and in the same way it would be uncommon indeed to find the son of the judge, or the banker, taking up cabinetwork or bricklaying. It is obvious, therefore, that in any consideration of the adjustment of the boy or girl to future life work it will be necessary to give due weight to the economic conditions of those responsible for their training and education. The third factor is one that has received large consid- eration at the hands of vocational experts. Those who have accomplished much in a material sense in the field of vocational guidance lay great stress upon a study of the local field. Each community has its own problems to solve. From the industrial and commercial sides particularly, for these offer the largest field in the Vocational Adjustment 129 beginning, there must be a systematic survey. One region may emphasize stock raising, another mining, another manufacture. The vocational opportunities for girls and boys in the given region must be opportunities thoroughly canvassed. This means systematic in a z iv work in charting and mapping, in collecting and indexing data, in getting closely in touch with employers, agents, factory managers, commercial and industrial promoters, corporations, unions, and labor organizations. It means a sympathetic relation between the vocational adviser and the parents. It implies a perfect understanding between the adviser and the boys and girls he represents. Caution must be exercised that guidance, or adjust- ment, be not carried too far on the basis of a regional survey. In the more poorly paid occupations the vast majority of boys and girls will likely find employment at home. But no one should be shut off from entering a field of endeavor for which he shows fitness, even though such field of activity lies at a distance. This touches closely the fourth factor, and one to which sufficient weight has not been attached. No one should be barred from any plane of endeavor simply Future because it lies remotely. Moreover, those who are responsible for progress are those who with large vision see clearly the shadows of coming events. Noting certain tendencies in the individual, and realizing that future needs of the community or the nation lie parallel with these lines of strength, every desirable opportunity should be thrown around such individual. Capacities undreamed of will oftentimes develop. Our industrial, or economic, or social life, and our civic life, constantly call for trained men and women that the world cannot supply. A notable example of this is found in our I jo Ideals and Democracy great cities, where experts are needed for research and conservation problems. In the fields of vocational inter- pretation, adjustment, and guidance, men and women are needed to carry on the very work here being discussed. These experts we shall not have in sufficient numbers until they have been trained. Vocational guidance means not alone the adjusting of individuals to environment, to vocations, to courses of study; it means as well the modification applies to an d application of school studies to best meet school the needs of individual boys and girls. The adjustment applies to the course of study and the vocation even more than to the individual. And further, the responsibility for this guidance or adjustment, entirely in the hands of teachers and advisers at first, is, as the pupil develops, shared by him. Parents resent any attempt to drive the boy where they would prefer he should not go. Hence they must understand that guidance means direction only, and that the work of adjustment is simply to help the boy to "find himself." Trained men and women for this work we must have. Bureaus of vocational guidance are essential. With such a plan in force as the one outlined the demand objection is at once raised that a few experts for trained an d advisers, well trained though they be, teachers cannot accomplish the necessary results. This is obvious. The teachers themselves must, under careful direction, carry on the work with the children in the grades. They must do this because it is a physical impossibility for a few experts to do it. They must do it because at present no city or locality will finance more than a limited number of such experts. They must do it because no one, so well as the teacher, has opportunity to study the child from so many angles or in so many Vocational Adjustment jjj moods. They must do it because, with our greater understanding of what school is, of what school life should mean, and of the necessity for boys and girls entering, in active life, those fields of endeavor for which they are best fitted, has come as well the understanding that to hear lessons recited from a book is the least of the teacher's duties. Her hours must not be lengthened or the details of her task multiplied. But with large masses of material within each school subject whittled off, and cast to the rubbish heap, there will be opportunity to emphasize fun- damentals. Courses of study are of less importance than health and happiness. We are to stop teaching subjects; we are to teach boys and girls. Before teachers can undertake successfully to carry out any such program they themselves must receive instruc- tion. For the present the vocational adviser and a scant literature are the only sources of schools help and inspiration to the teacher. Without must ff er fear of successful contradiction the statement is made that as soon as the necessary budget can be arranged and the best-prepared instructor secured, every normal and training school in the country, and every higher institution of learning awarding credentials to teach, should offer courses in vocational interpretation and adjustment. These courses should be required of all candidates for graduation. Indeed, one of the weaknesses in normal schools the country over has been the lack of just such courses. A proper course would involve the most fundamental facts in child psychology, in practical pedagogy, in economics and history, in geography and literature and art. It would compre- hend a knowledge of industrial conditions and processes, of business methods, of keeping of accounts and filing systems. The most successful teacher of such a course Ideals and Democracy will have large sympathy, great tact, and patience abounding. Such normal-school courses should train teachers in the observation of pupils; in how to detect, interpret, and tabulate tendencies; in the kinds of work to bring out undeveloped characteristics. Before graduating, these teachers should know how to work with their associate teachers in the study of particular cases; should know how to cooperate with fathers and mothers or those having charge of boys and girls; and they should be trained in the methods of making regional surveys, of indexing data, and of securing the cooperation of em- ployers and of social, industrial, and other organizations in the community. If no work in library instruction is given in the normal school, the course in vocational adjustment should include the fundamental features of such library work. The teacher must know how to use books in order to teach her pupils the same art. The teacher should be schooled not alone in how to study books but particularly in how to study boys and girls. The work of vocational adjustment will, for some time, be confined to the larger cities. The reasons for this are obvious. In summarizing, we would appear to have arrived at the following conclusions. First: Teachers should devote a considerable portion of their time to a study of the child and his dominant interests and aptitudes, and to the vocations, the better to fit the curriculum to the pupil and the pupil to envi- roning conditions. Teachers must counsel with parents. Vocational interpretation and the adjustment of the pupil call for a system of records such as are made for other school studies. Second: Parents and pupils must be won to the aid of the movement. All social and other organizations Vocational Adjustment 133 should join hands with the school in promoting the cause. The parents must understand at the outset that vocational adjustment applies not to blacksmithing more than to law or banking. They must understand that the steering gear is not attached simply to the boy, but to the course of study as well. They must understand that all elements are to be brought into harmony the boy and his abilities, the region and its possibilities, the course <5f study and the educational forces in home and school, on playground and street. They must understand that proper adjustment is demanded, that to the individual may come returns not alone in dollars but in satisfaction. The perpetuity of society itself demands such adjust- ment. The economic condition of the family is always a determining factor. Third: The school department, working in conjunc- tion with the industrial and social forces of the com- munity, should establish a Bureau under whose direction the work of vocational interpretation and adjustment is to be carried forward. Fourth: The director of this Bureau should be a teacher, a business man, a student of sociology, and pref- erably a man at home with one or more of the trades prevalent in the district. He must be educated in literary as well as in mechanical lines. He must be far- seeing, patient for results, determined, tactful. He must possess James Bryce's four elements that enter into the make-up of a leader intellectual independence, tenacity of purpose, sound judgment, and sympathy. He must know many things well ; he must know men and women, boys and girls, best of all. The director, the advisers, and the teachers should make a survey of the local region. All occupations, trades, vocations, professions, should be catalogued and 134 Ideals and Democracy charted. The requirements, compensation, opportunities, and distribution of each vocation must be noted and the possibilities for developing the industry or profession studied. Thorough consideration must be given the fu- ture prospects and needs, both at home and in the nation. The securing of the data will require considerable time and expert work. Fifth: The employers, manufacturers, and corporation and labor organizations must be interested and their co- operation secured. Sixth: Courses of study in vocational interpretation and adjustment should be introduced into the normal schools and education departments of colleges. High- school courses in vocational adjustment should be offered in every high school. All education, of whatever nature, is or should be a part of life, and the greatest thing in life is living. Train- The ing for the vocation of living is after all the vocation of chief work of the school. This means training hving - m ^bits of industry, habits of thought, habits of action, habits of cheerfulness, habits of character, and habits of service. To achieve lasting and large results, teachers must be trained for vocational guidance. They must study the boy and girl from the time of entrance to school. Until the significance of vocational education in the upper grades and the high school is understood and acted upon our courses of study will remain inade- quate. Until vocational adjustment is made a part of all school work, vocational education will fail to meet the demands of this developing age. CHAPTER IX ATTAINABLE IDEALS OOMEWHERE in the dim reaches of the past a ^-/ distant day as we reckon time but only as yesterday when considered in the light of evolutionary history the human animal existed in his simplicity. From the rising of the sun in the heavens to the darken- ing of his world this simple man followed Primit ^ e e nature. His needs were few, his wants hardly greater, his ambitions yet unborn. He lived from day to day, and only the change of seasons made it neces- sary for him to change his daily mode of action. To procure food and to protect himself from the elements and from savage beasts and human enemies were his only cares. For him a cave was a palace, a hollow tree trunk was a stately dwelling, a sheltering cliff was a mod- ern bungalow. He fished with his hands, hunted with a club, and ate flesh as we eat oysters. There were no latest styles to trouble him, no roads to build, no cities to beautify. His taxes were never delinquent. He had no polished floors to rewax, no trousers to be creased, and milk pasteurized or sterilized was unknown to him. He possessed no watch with a mainspring to be repaired, no plow with a share to be sharpened. He was troubled neither with railroads, telephones, books, breakfast foods (similar in composition but bearing different names), gas stoves, newspapers, steamboats, electric flatirons, nor pure-food laws. The tipping crime was unknown and, because civilization had not yet been substituted for 10 135 136 Ideals and Democracy native honesty, graft was not then invented. He studied neither sociology nor ethics, felt no obligation toward that vague thing called society, and interested himself not at all in that still more indefinite element known as culture. He hunted and fished, ate, drank, slept, swam, climbed, lived, and died, and another took his place and life went on. But the storm, the wind, the rain, ice, snow, and sleet, lightning and thunder, the scorching sun each in turn The made it necessary for this early man to beginning seek shelter or suffer. He became quick to of education take a( j va ntage of Nature and to improve upon and assist her. His cave developed into a cabin. The cunning of the wild animals made necessary artificial weapons, and to assist him he laid hold of the sharpened stone. The skins of the animals slain for food were used as protection to his body against the cold. He began to utilize to his own advantage those things that lay in his immediate environment. He was becoming educated. During this long period there was practically no society, no division of labor, no trading of commodities, no barter, no exchange of goods, no printed records, no labor-saving devices, no scientific laboratories, no understanding of natural laws, no standard of ideals, no policies of gov- ernment. Each man performed the duties of life much as every other man performed them, the necessities only receiving attention. But individuals at last rotated together. The family members lived in a common center, and thus in time a tribe appeared. A clan followed, and al- tnou S h tne ste P is a mighty one, the nation finally resulted. With the tribe or clan came the community; villages, towns, cities, sprang into exist- ence; the hands and sharpened stick gave place to the Attainable Ideals crude plow, the hoe, the shovel, and finally the most intricate and modern implements of the world's most important industry agriculture. The sharpened stone was the forerunner of the ax, and the tools of the arts and sciences finally appeared. From a human animal, with his head to the ground, the man, erect and clear sighted, was evolved, clothed, and civilized. The wild animals were domesticated and trained to labor for his advantage. He walked on streets made by his own hands; he rode on vessels fashioned by his own cun- ning; he built of wood, of stone and brick, of iron and steel; and he molded and shaped materials through the aid of fire, which had come to his service. Physical laws, while not yet understood, were still appreciated, and of such appreciation advantage was now taken. Principles involved in the physical, chemical, and biological sciences were dimly grasped. Subject matter blazed the trail for method. Education, up to this time, had been delayed. The process now was comparatively rapid. The world of science was at last unfolding, and scientific principles were applied to the everyday life and in the ordinary occupations and crafts. The arts were being evolved; a moral sense was being built; standards of morality were becoming fixed: altruism was developing; reverence for Deity was being substituted for superstitious worship. Ideals were pointing the way to greater and greater prog- ress; democracy was looking toward possibility; evolution was resulting in civilization. And now distance has been conquered, literature has been developed, nature has been harnessed to do man's bidding in a thousand ways. The possibilities of yesterday have become the realities of to-day. All during these countless ages of man's development Ideals and Democracy he wss laying foundations for higher ideals, and during all this time he was being prepared to produce and to live in a democracy. Ideals and Democracy! Never in What real ^ e hi stor y f tne world has there been such democracy need for a real democracy, and never was there a country where the natural conditions were better suited to or the people more thoroughly prepared for a real democracy. Real democracy means liberty, but liberty under law and not license. This country stands for liberty, equality, fraternity; it stands for justice, right, truth; it stands for honor, integrity, high moral purpose ; it stands for education, religion, good home influences, civic righteousness, political freedom, commercial cleanliness; it stands for high manhood and noble womanhood. This country stands for all these things, but, as a people, we have not yet attained to them. Our ideals have not yet been set sufficiently high ; we have not lived up to our knowledge of the best, and our democ- racy is a democracy in part only. Before it shall become a democracy in truth, ideals must be held by all men, and these ideals must be realized. How imperfectly have the people of any age that is past been fitted to establish a democracy in fact, and Relation of ^ ow ma dequate have been their standards of ideals to the life, of moral conduct, of duties of individual development to individual or of individual to community! of democracy The ideals possessed by the early peoples and by nations of great promise were often far from exalted ideals that were not ideal. Centuries there have been in which war and lust and greed and gain have been the prevailing conceptions of life. Brother has been at war with brother, man with man, nation with nation. Selfish- ness, not brotherly love, has been the watchword ; intrigue, not honor, has been blazoned upon the standards; personal Attainable Ideals i jp interest rather than the good of all has been the heading of each chapter in life's unfolding. Truly, high ideals are a matter of growth, and character is not developed in a single day. Let us consider the relation of ideals to the development of true democracy and whether democracy is in itself an ideal. " I am keenly aware," says Jastrow, 1 "of the dis-service of ideals, of the part they have played in the history of fanaticism, of intolerance, of pseudo-science, as well as of their service in progress and reform. I appreciate more practically how readily in lesser concerns an ideal, like a conscience, may become a troublesome burden. Ideals are often made to work overtime and unseasonably; and ideals unwisely worn often restrict rather than illuminate the outlook. But to achieve a worthy or serviceable foothold in this tumultuous and competitive world of ours, some decided singleness of purpose and some sup- porting ideals are alike indispensable." But are ideals attainable? It was said recently by one in my hearing, while speaking of the fundamental principles upon which a great organization is founded, "Its teachings look toward high ideals, and such ideals as are practical; such as may actually be attained to." This he characterized as a paradox. An ideal worthy the name must be practi- cal. Ideals are visions of improved conditions; ideals are yearnings after higher purposes; they are desires for more perfect standards; they are glimpses of richer promises; they are determinations for a fuller realization of life and all that it is and means. Ideals are practical; they can be realized. An ideal beyond attainment is less than an ideal. It is a product only of the imagination. ^ It is a vain searching for the impossible. It is a reaching 1 The Qualities of Men, p. 90. 140 Ideals and Democracy out after empty dreams. To make simply for the non- attainable is as "An infant crying in the night: An infant crying for the light, And with no language but a cry." ! The lack of high ideals on the part of so many men and women is a matter of grave consideration to those who give attention to this question, and especially to those who have in their charge the training of the youth, whether in the home, the school, the church, or the shop. High ideals must be developed in the mind of every boy and every girl, every man and every woman, and all must work toward their realization. Ideals of appreciation must be cultivated if we are to attain to a real democracy. Few of us realize our debt Ideals essen- ^ those wno have gone before us; we little tialtoreal appreciate the extent of our obligation to democracy ^ Q generations of past time, whose work and faith and loyalty have made our present standards possible. Just as each man owes much to his friend, so each of us owes infinitely more than he can in a lifetime repay to the men and the women who, through past time, have worked and lived and died, suffered and failed, joyed and conquered, that our life and civilization might be made possible. In this sense, every man who has lived is the benefactor of each of us, and each must be looked upon as a friend. "Every man contains in himself the elements of all the rest of humanity. Some time or other to each must come the consciousness of this larger life. In accepting as his own the life of others, he becomes aware of a life in himself that has no limit and no end. " ! Tennyson, In Memoriam, stanza 5. Attainable Ideals 141 That what we are as individuals is owing to those who lived in the past, that the progress of to-day is built upon the achievement of yesterday, has frequently found expression. The mountain torrent ^o'tfo^ast and the mountain lake lie high up and far removed from the eyes of men on the lower levels. The torrent grows into the stream, the stream expands into the ever widening river, and flowing on and on, finally finds its way to the free and throbbing ocean. Upon the surface of the river, back and forth, pass the craft laden with freight or carrying the traveler. Cities spring up upon its banks. Along its borders on either side men till the soil, and plant and harvest their crops. These are carried up or down the river, and in the cities the raw material is converted into the finished product, and again the manufactured article is sent from point to point. But men think only of the river, of this mighty highway of communication. To the mountain torrent they give no thought. Let me take from you the torrent, the very source and life of this majestic stream, and what of the river, the cities, the manufacturing industries, the vast agricultural interests, the very homes of a contented peo- ple? All are gone. Just F as we as a people, when con- sidering our present achievement, cannot ignore the part played by all those who have gone before; and as the river must needs look for its life in the mountain torrent, so must every man look to the past and to that great body of teachers and taught who have worked and thought and struggled in all earlier times. The future shall be fashioned from the present, and to-day is because yester- day was. Few men realize their obligation to others and to them- selves. We all are too free to criticize the other fellow, reserving to ourselves special privileges we are not willing 142 Ideals and Democracy to accord him. We fail to put ourselves in the place of our neighbor and to demand of ourselves as strict accounting as we demand from others. There is, indeed, an appreciation that must carry over from individual to individual. Whether embodied in word or deed, in attitude or expression, that which The strenuous , , , , . . life blunts should be our pleasure is too often mter- the finer preted in terms of duty, and the duty is left sensibilities ,., _, undone. Tardily we see our error. The hurry and worry of this economic age so engrosses the attention that the finer sensibilities suffer. " For the first time in all the years I have worked with him, Mr. Smith actually said he was proud of his corps of associates," said a conscientious, competent employee. Being human, she and her associates missed the occasional word of appreciation a word that would lighten the load and make work a joy instead of a drudgery. To be apprecia- tive we must measure the qualities of men, and attribute proper values. "I measure men by the bigness scale A man is all that he means to be; His heart may falter, his feet may fail, And yet the man is the same to me. I 've never looked on the perfect tree That showed no mark of the winter's gale, And never perfect the man I see I measure men by the bigness scale. "I measure men by the bigness scale, Nor ask what defects may lie below. I know the soul of the man is frail, I know the hope of the man is slow, I know the thorns that around him grow, The brambled ways that his feet assail The best of man is the man I know; I measure men by the bigness scale. Attainable Ideals I43 "I measure men by the bigness scale; In ev'ry mortal two men there are; The man who looks from the gloomy jail May fix his gaze on the shining star. For life is long and the way is far For some the sun and for some the hail, The good to save or the ill to mar I measure men by the bigness scale. "I measure men by the bigness scale; I measure men by a simple rule I learned myself by the lonesome trail, The stony path and the murky pool, I learned myself in the sterner school Where right may lose and the wrong prevail And, saint or sinner, or sage or fool, I measure men by the bigness scale. "I measure men by the bigness scale; I pray that others may measure you Not by your lifetime's tangled tale But by the things you tried to do. I sometimes look to the skies of blue And catch the spirit of Holy Grail And know, and know, when the game is through, Christ measures men by the bigness scale!" ! A conception of what we owe other men those of past time and those of our day and generation whether asso- ciated with our business or social interests or separated from us by sea or land expanse realization has never been so clearly before the people as ofourinter- J . . dependence to-day. In our commercial relations we are all but helpless without the aid of those in our own and in other lands. The food that comes to our table, the fabrics with which we clothe ourselves, the materials contained in the homes that shelter us are provided, not at hand, but come at our bidding from the farthermost corners of the 1 Douglas Mallock, The Measure of Men. 144 Ideals and Democracy earth. Our social and mental appetites are satisfied by books, works of art, and masterpieces of music that were born in the brains of men who speak languages alien to our own, and whose mode of life is vastly different from ours. Even our moral and spiritual natures receive stimulus not only from those with whom we touch elbows but by the acts and words and life of all those, of what- ever country or whatever time, whose high moral purpose and constant searching after better things admonish us to look upward and onward and to strive to be, each day, not better than our neighbors but better than ourselves. We are interdependent, and as such must join hands so as to complete the circuit between the past that has made us and the future for which we are responsible. No man owes what he is to himself alone. There are no self-made men. "What a burden of responsibility is True removed from the shoulders of the Almighty," democracy responded his hearer, when an acquaintance a national announced himself as a self-made man. And because we owe this debt to the past, we must repay in part by meeting our obligations to the future. There can be no true democracy until the ideal of all men shall grow into a national ideal; an ideal that shall make each responsible for all. We must realize that while the children of men are anywhere in misery, or want, or ignorance, or privation, or bondage, no one of us is free. As Tennyson sings, 1 "Is it well that while we range with Science, glorying in the Time, City children soak and blacken soul and sense in city slime?" Our debt to the past can be met only by holding before us high ideals of what we shall do for the future and by seeing the realization of the ideals in results accomplished. 1 Locksley Hall Sixty Years After. Attainable Ideals 145 The lad at school is usually admonished, when in a con- troversy with his fellows, that he is no better than any of his associates. As a man he insists that one individual is as good as another. Do The you recall Lowell? "Amid all the fruitless turmoil and miscarriage of the world, if there be one thing steadfast and of favorable omen, one thing to make optimism distrust its own obscure distrust, it is the rooted instinct in men to admire what is better and more beautiful than themselves." 1 If all men at all times exemplified the ideal as set forth by Lowell we should indeed be able to herald the real democracy. In our littleness we clothe ourselves in bigotry and surround ourselves with sham. We are too prone to think more highly of ourselves than we ought to think. The gospel of equality is well illustrated in an anecdote that comes from the personal experience of an American Minister to Sweden. A Swedish peasant was traveling by post chaise and desired a change of horses. In the more distant country districts travel is altogether by post, with a post house every few miles along the way. The keepers of these post houses are expected to give the traveler a change of horses on request, and this without regard to rank or title or station of the individual. The first to come shall be first served. The peasant in question ordered fresh horses for his conveyance and while he was partaking of refreshment a second traveler, the Governor of the province, chanced by. He also required fresh animals. It so happened that only two horses remained, and the attendant, at the command of the Governor, was placing these at the disposal of the latter when the countryman appeared and ordered a halt in proceedings. "What," said the Governor, "do you refuse to permit 1 Democracy and Other Essays, p. 36. 10 Ideals and Democracy those horses to be harnessed into my carriage?" "Yes, I do, " said the peasant. "And do you know who I am ? " blustered the dignitary. "I am the Governor of this province, a Knight of the Royal Order of the North Star, and one of the Chamberlains of His Majesty, the King." "Oh, ho!" said the peasant. "And do you, sir, know who I am? " Fearing now that the attire of the country- man was merely a disguise, the negative reply from the nobleman was somewhat hesitating. "Well," replied the peasant, walking up to his face and looking him firmly in the eye, "I'll tell you who I am / am the man that ordered those horses." 1 Needless to say, he got them. In our country there is no aristocracy of birth, although the attitude of many a man would seem to indicate the contrary. There is no aristocracy of money, but material possession is daily ruining many an otherwise excellent character. Wealth or position is not necessarily a guar- antee of quality or nobility of soul. The man of humble parentage who struggles for a livelihood frequently wins the race for the abiding things of life. Men are to be measured in terms of those things which abide. Let us take heed lest we give undue prominence to the shallow and superficial and leave averages ' unmeasured those qualities that endure. Beneath many a plain exterior there dwells a soul of rare beauty, and the cottage is often the home of contentment. And after all, when the evidence is all in we are forced to admit that the law of averages holds here as elsewhere. Few men merit one hundred per cent in all things. Those who excel here are short weight there, and it not infrequently falls out that the one of small means, of scant opportunities, and humble social distinc- tion, and who is styled as average by the society lion, the i W. H. Thomas, Jr., Sweden and the Swedes, p. 27. Attainable Ideals 747 critic, the leader of fashion, is, as a man, a citizen, a neighbor, a taxpayer, in all ways the suoerior of the latter. The man who would rise above the dead level of the average, whether that average be high or low, should seek in others for those qualities which others would admire in him. Having found them, he must strive to rise to the heights to which they carry their possessor; having found them not, let him still strive to perfect himself, that he may be to his fellows an example of what they should hope to attain "In one of Murillo's pictures in the Louvre," says Gannett, 1 "he shows us the interior of a convent kitchen; but doing the work there are not mortals in old dresses, but beautiful white-winged angels. One serenely puts the kettle on the fire to boil, and one is lifting up a pail of water with heavenly grace, and one is at the kitchen- dresser reaching up for plates; and I believe there is a little cherub running about and getting in the way, trying to help. What the old monkish legend that it represented is, I hardly know. But as the painter puts it to you on his canvas, all are so busy, and working with such a will, and so refining the work as they do it, that somehow you forget that pans are pans and pots pots, and only think of the angels, and how very natural and beautiful kitchen- work is, just what the angels would do, of course." How admirably this sets forth the ideal of labor! The dignity, the glory, the morality of work is here made real. And, in truth, it is high time that men and women everywhere thoroughly believed The ^^ in the nobility of accomplishing tasks through physical or bodily exertion. It is an unanswerable fact 1 Blessed Be Drudgery, p. 27. 148 Ideals and Democracy that all men should preach the gospel of work and practice the classics of industrialism. Too often we find that the man who, as a boy, was forced to perform manual labor that he might aid in the support of himself or of the family looks back upon his early experiences with regret. He would not have his son work as he worked. His great desire is to amass a for- tune that his son may be reared in idleness, or, at the best, that he may enter a profession. He would have his son receive a salary, not wages; he must occupy a position, not hold a job. Such a man does not dignify labor. He is robbing his son of the best heritage he could leave him a knowl- Idleness e ^ e * wor ^ at ^ rst ^and anc * a * ove ^ or vs. labor. He is cheating him of his right. He is depriving him of the very elements necessary to produce strength of character and stability of purpose; of the foundation upon which to build a proper moral structure. Work has been the salvation of man since the beginning of time, and in our age and generation, more than in any other period of the world's history, is an appreciation of and participation in work by every one a necessity. The strife between the worker and the idler is on. The commercial spirit of the age is being intensified. The money interests are becoming so centered that, many times, the desire is for more that those who accumulate may work less. Those who have been taught that work is degrading are living examples of the fallacy of this false philosophy. Overtaken by misfortune and adversity, directed in a wrong course, they swell the ranks of the improvident and the unemployed, not only because they will not work but because they have not been taught how to work, and no task can be performed by them in an acceptable manner. The street corners abound with men Attainable Ideals and boys of both classes; the cheap places of amusement must have their patronage; and libraries of criminal literature are written for them. They walk railroad tracks, mingle in the crowds of the discontented, and fill our prisons, almshouses, asylums, and institutions for dependents. In an address delivered in the White House during February, 1908, I heard Theodore Roosevelt, then President of the United States, say: "I u ., J Importance would not have you preach an impossible of self - ideal ; for if you preach an ideal that is impos- de P endence sible, you tend to make your pupils believe that no ideals are possible, and therefore, you tend to do them that worst of wrongs to teach them to divorce preaching from practice, to divorce the ideal that they in the abstract admire from the practical good after which they strive. Teach the boy and girl that their business is to earn their own livelihood; teach the boy that he is to be the homemaker; the girl that she must ultimately be the homekeeper; that the work of the father is to be the bread-winner, and that of the mother the housekeeper; that their work is the most important work by far in all the land ; that the work of the statesman, the writer, the captain of industry, and all the rest is conditioned first, upon the work that finds its expression in the family, that supports the family. So teach the boy that he is to be expected to earn his own livelihood; that it is a shame and scandal for him not to be self-dependent, not to be able to hold his own in the rough work of actual life. Teach the girl that so far from its being her duty to try to avoid all labor, all effort, that it should be a matter of pride to her to be as good a housewife as her mother was before her." 1 1 Proceedings, National Education Association, 1908, p. 213. Ideals and Democracy This is an age demanding work. The boy at work is doing no injustice to himself, no injury to others. There is no better moral tonic than honest work, no muscle VS * mental appetizer superior to dignified labor, and all honest labor is dignified. Money alone can accomplish nothing. The mind to plan and the money to purchase or command are helpless without the hand to execute. The vast enterprises undertaken and accom- plished by this American people would be impossible but for the labor of many hands. The development of our wonderful resources, the growth of marvelous industries, the building up of a great commerce, the making of this country into a home for millions of people all this is possible only through work. This material side, however, important though it be, is subsidiary to that which is underneath. The moral fabric of the individual is strengthened in the of luork*** V6I 7 atmosphere of honest toil. " I have learned," says Booker T. Washington in his book, Up from Slavery, "that success is to be measured not so much by the position that one has reached in life as by the obstacles which he has overcome while trying to succeed." It is not enough that a portion of our peo- ple work. Before the proper bond of sympathy can exist between capital and labor, capital must labor. Those who feel that their burdens are too severe would have less cause so to feel if real work were the portion of every man. " It will become a matter of wonder that there ever have existed those who thought it admirable to enjoy without working, at the expense of others who worked without enjoying." And Ruskin, always a believer in intelligent work as the salvation of the race, says: "It is only by labor that thought can be made healthy, and only by thought Attainable Ideals 151 that labor can be made happy. And the two cannot be separated with impunity. All professions should be liberal, and there should be less pride felt in peculiarity of employment and more in excellence of achievement. And yet more, in each regular profession, no master should be too proud to do its hardest work." Struggle as man may for happiness, he may look for permanent riches in this direction only as with mind and body he occupies himself in honest toil. Plowman or painter, peasant or philosopher; the low or the high, the poor or the rich; office boy or bank president; stevedore or capitalist each must have his own work to do, must do it, must glory in the doing. To do one's own work cheer- fully and to do it better than any one else can do it should be the ideal, believing with Emerson that "there needs a revised ideal of life. . . . Life is not for learning, nor is life for working, but learning and working are for life." Many a youth who thinks himself fortunate in being exempt from work looks back upon this condition in Labor must ^ s ^ e as a c ^ m ^J' Labor should never not degenerate degenerate into drudgery. Drudgery kills into drudgery t h e spirit and dulls the soul. Drudgery saps the intellect and corrodes the conscience. It dims the eye, steals beauty of feature, and bends the back. There are thousands of children of the poor, scattered over the length and breadth of the land, who in factory and shop are leading desolate lives. With them it is not work that kills, but overwork. Labor with them is drudgery. But drudgery comes not alone from overwork. Any work can be made mere drudgery. To those who look upon the tasks of others as more pleasing than their own there will soon come bitterness and discontent. Our labor is what we make it. Let no one be mistaken in this. Make your work a pleasure. Dignify the laborer 11 i 52 Ideals and Democracy by dignifying the labor of his hands. Be sure your work is ennobling if you can say each day that you have done your best. Let the work of to-day be better than that of yesterday. So strive that the result of to-morrow's labor shall surpass that of to-day. Play is as essential as work. It not infrequently falls out that those who have the least respect for labor are Recreation as P r fe ss i na l players. Some people there are necessary who shift all responsibility to the shoulders of others. As a consequence, overwork is the portion of many. As a result of this unequal division of things a serious injustice is done both classes. The professional players injure themselves and the society of which they are a part. Those who "work without ceasing" injure themselves as well, and society is thereby impoverished. The rank and file of business and professional men tradesman, employer, clerk, publicist, theologian, teacher, jurist play in the summer. The habit of vacation taking is American. After nine, ten, or eleven months of unceas- ing grind it becomes necessary to drop the burden and go out into the wilderness. It is a habit that is brought about by the congestion of cities, our competitive system, our strenuous existence, and the temper of the American people. The average man or woman is wound up to the highest pitch and must, after working to the limit for months, stop suddenly or run down. Our leading argument for a summer play time is the oppressive heat. It is indeed a fact that in cities espe- cially the heated term furnishes a particularly undesirable work period. This is especially true when men and women are overworked and physically and mentally fagged. The business man of to-day is, as summer approaches, Attainable Ideals j r j as an engine that has been designed to average forty miles an hour, and, when run at seventy, finds itself in the middle of the journey laid up with a broken crank shaft. Many a man must work day and night for fifty years that he may accumulate stores on earth such as to allow him to rest the last twenty of his threescore years and ten. Alas! at the age of fifty-one the "pitcher is broken at the fountain." Had he interspersed play with work he would have enjoyed his fifty years and perhaps have lived to enjoy in greater degree the remaining nineteen. The plan is wrong. No man, no organization, no nation can do the best work by fits and starts. Around us every day we see exemplified the fallacy of our un- natural course failures, invalids, deaths. It is not absolute rest that many of us need, it is change of thought and occupation. Over-occupation kills. " I could not enjoy my vacation," said a business man to me. ' ' For several weeks preceding my outing I worked day and night to get my business into such shape that I could leave it." This is a common experience. Others carry their business with them, and experience no change, as they realize they must again overwork on their return to "make up for lost time." Some play so hard that they must get into the routine of their work in order to recuperate. We are living in an age of electricity, of labor-saving devices. We are alert for the "done while you wait" sign. It is the quick-lunch-counter period. The , We pay excess fare, take the twentieth- the twentieth- century limited, and chafe at the least delay. Sd Our automobile pleasure trip develops into a joy ride, when the most elastic speed limit is doubled and then broken. We chide Central if our wants are not 154 Ideals and Democracy anticipated, and we fume and fret when the line is busy. A blockade on the elevated throws us into a panic. We bolt our eggs and coffee while devouring the latest Stock Exchange news. We rage and threaten to return to tallow candles when the fuse burns out and the electric lights are off a dozen minutes. The curtain at the theater must go up as we take our seats or we criticize the management. Our work crowds us. Competition is keen. We are the victims of an industrial and economic system that is being abused. The size and importance of the dollar are constantly made to expand. Shall we then mix our play with our work? Shall the combination be macaronic? Should we lop off our play times, and lead the strenuous life from spring to spring? We should do neither. Living is of work a serious, although withal a pleasant, business, and " There is a certain dignity to be kept up in pleasure, as well as in business." "All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy," but Jack can accomplish little when his play and work are mixed. And Jack ac- complishes less than he should when he works three hun- dred days and then plays sixty-five. Short play spells from time to time bring best results. The mind of the business man, keyed up to high tension, must be given change and recreation, and this should come frequently and in short periods, from week to week, and from month to month. The overheated engine is stopped and cooled, and is again ready for its work. The carrier pigeon relaxes, and once more takes up its journey. We shall sometime come to understand that it is wrong to keep the mind and body running at high speed until, exhausted, a prolonged rest is required before the fires are again started under the boilers. And following such strain, neither mental nor physical machinery can assume normal condition . Attainable Ideals Through a happy adjustment of work and play, time, money, and health may be saved, and length of days may be secured. And the books, when we leave, will show a balance in results accomplished. To achieve the most in life, and to derive the most from life, a sense of humor must be cultivated. As individuals we must be ready and willing to see the pleasant side of things. No pessimistic, gloomy, morose, sullen, sulky character ever achieved anything worthy of emulation. Did you ever enter a street car on your way to business, on a beautiful morning when all nature smiled, and in the fullness of joy and the best of comradeship Humor as say "Good morrow" to a fellow passenger? a password And what a wet blanket of disaster and to P r z ress sadness was thrown over the whole atmosphere of the car when your fellow traveler absolutely ignored your greeting, or at the best emitted only a growl, as much as to say: "You attend to your own business and I'll take care of mine." The reaction from this attitude was such that you slammed the office door, kicked over the waste basket, frowned at the office boy, and accomplished nothing in your forenoon's work. We owe it to others as well as to ourselves to cultivate and preserve a sense of humor. Humor develops into disposition. Disposition foundations character. Humor is a password to progress. By humor I mean much more than the ability to appre- ciate the joke or send back wit for wit. Humor mirrors comradeship and happiness and the tendency to grasp the brighter side. Such an appreciation of humor enables us to catch the viewpoint of the other fellow. To picture the dark and gloomy side requires no particular effort or ability. Our work goes right or wrong as we possess this saving sense of humor. It leads to good judgment. It 1 56 Ideals and Democracy ofttimes restrains us from doing the unkind or unjust thing to another or the unwise thing to ourselves. It curbs us and keeps us from trouble. It makes us happy and contented and young and full of health and vigor. And what right have we to be out of humor and pes- simistic? If others lack this virtue, it is a calamity; if we lack it, it is a crime. Think you that Stevenson and Homer and Milton were downcast and out of sorts? Forced to leave home and society, frail in body but in spirit free, Stevenson to the last was ever hopeful, inspir- ing, cheering, uplifting. Helen Keller, deprived of the senses which to us seem indispensable, has accomplished more in a few short years than many a man or woman in a long life. And throughout, what a sense of humor has been hers, what cheerfulness, what comradeship ! When vexed with your neighbor or irritated with self, when out of sorts with creeds and politics and society, when things at home go wrong, when pleasure palls and business is a burden, when the day is dull and because of your own blurred vision every man seems to think only of self, read you then, and read again, from one who sang and sang: "The day returns and brings us the petty round of irritating concerns and duties. Help us to play the man, help us to perform them with laughter and kind faces, let cheerfulness abound with industry. Give us to go blithely on our business all this day, bring us to our rest- ing beds weary and content and undishonored, and grant us in the end the gift of sleep." l That the one who is possessed of the saving sense of humor is also the one with vision and insight will be found the exception only sufficient to prove the rule. A con- stant looking inward, a thinking of self, a mind given to 1 Prayer at Morning, by Robert Louis Stevenson. Attainable Ideals 157 growling and complaint will accomplish little. Those who see the rift in the cloud, and who turn their thoughts from themselves to others, are well on their way /"*? ' ' tx> prosperity of mind. Imagination and imp iill r t insight are essential to produce richness of perspective and life. To possess clear vision means that the balanced eye sees in perfect perspective and the mind attains a thoroughly balanced view. The visionless mind impover- ishes the real self as the sightless eye beggars the powers of description. How clearly is this set forth by Saxe in his delineation of the reactions of the four men, who, blind, were first placed in contact with the elephant. The first, who grasped the elephant's tail, declared it a rope; the second, who laid hold upon the trunk, pro- nounced it a serpent; the third man, with hand [placed upon the tusks, proclaimed them the horns of a steer; while the fourth man, on leaning against the animal, said he was leaning against a wall. Sentiment aside, and confronted by the so-called com- monplace of daily existence, the fact is borne in upon us that vision is a virtue. Did Washington, think you, possess vision through the trials of that fearful winter at Valley Forge? Surrounded by the most disheartening conditions; his men scantily clothed and poorly nourished; with finances at low ebb and ammunition scarce; with sickness laying its devastating hand upon his wasted followers, and criticism's echoes becoming daily more audible through it all the great leader held to his vision. Himself inspired, he thus inspired others. Did Clara Barton possess vision when, away yonder in the East, amid shot and shell and desolation and death she went in and out upon the field of battle, seeking out the wounded and distressed? Did the lad who saved his friend while losing his own life; the father who sacrificed himself that 1 58 Ideals and Democracy the daughter might be spared ; the humble workman who, far within the mine, deliberately gave his own life that the scores of miners in a distant part of the workings might be freed did these hold before the mind the vision ? Was the Great Teacher possessed of vision when he answered the query, "Who is my neighbor?" Was it vision that held Columbus to his course as he crept across the trackless ocean? Says Joaquin Miller in his Columbus: " Behind him lay the gray Azores, Behind the Gates of Hercules; Before him not the ghost of shores, Before him only shoreless seas. The good mate said: 'Now must we pray, For lo! the very stars are gone. Brave Admiral, speak, what shall I say?' 'Why, say, "Sail on! sail on! and on!'" *' He gained a world; he gave that world Its grandest lesson: On! sail on!" "Are you an engineer?" questioned the manager of a great corporation of a lieutenant who had been suggested as one competent to carry out a tremendous undertaking, involving the expenditure of a vast sum of money and requiring a high order of engineering skill. "No," came the prompt reply, "but I know when I need an engineer." With keen vision this guiding genius brought to a success- ful termination a project that would have foiled many a man of narrow insight yet possessed of all the learning of the schools. The worth of insight, imagination, vision, is not to be questioned in the commercial world. The more matter- of-fact the age, the keener the spirit of competition, the faster the race for industrial supremacy, the greater is the need for a looking out and beyond the immediate sur- roundings and conditions. To be successful, the business Attainable Ideals 159 man must anticipate the output of soil and mine and forest. He must evaluate supply and demand, must prophesy weather and figure transportation, and reckon with law and labor. A hit-and- . V 1 i . sion an v . , , r , v ... A ., idealized real miss policy is but fumbling with fortune. And just as true is it that in the less tangible though equally important sphere of culture, this vision is necessary. Intellectual quickening is conditioned thereon. Enjoy- ment that lasts and ideals that enrich look back upon these visions. Vision is more than castle building, for the castle may be without foundation and constructed by a dreamer. The vision is an idealized real. Ideals of integrity and high moral purpose are essen- tial in a successful man, a prosperous business, or a stable state. A democracy, to be established The country and to exist, must be the symbol not for needs honest things but for men. What the country needs is not dollars but clear-eyed, well-poised, high-minded, honest men men who know the right and whose honor cannot be impeached, whose business life is a revelation of the moral life behind it all. We want men who realize their responsibility and who have the courage of their convictions. Dr. George L. Spinning quotes Mr. Roosevelt in an interview concerning the injustice done the American Indian. After Dr. Spinning had described to the President the condition of the Indian, his misery and wretched- ness, the false promises that had been made him and how even the land that had been given him had been again taken away, the President replied: "This is not politics; this is not righteousness, and righteousness is what we are here to do!" Our commercial honor needs repairing. Not only as 160 Ideals and Democracy individuals, but in a civic and a national sense this holds true. Little by little the moral sense of whole commu- The thief vs ^ties goes wrong. Individuals, from selfish the king motives, are dishonest ; families become mor- ally degenerate; cities grow corrupt; nations fall into decay. There are in every community men and women who consider themselves perfectly honest, who would not defraud a friend, yet who, if opportunity offered, would not hesitate to withhold the fare from the street-car conductor. There are those in whose hands a neighbor's goods would be as safe as in their own, but who would take a spoon or a napkin from a hotel table simply as a souvenir. There are individuals in many towns and cities whose public ideals are so inadequate as to make dis- honor, immorality, and corruption so common as to call for slight comment on the part of those living in this atmosphere. There are localities wherein the man who takes ten dollars in the ordinary manner is branded a thief and suffers accordingly, while he who defrauds the public out of a million dollars is a king of finance and goes unpunished. From the common criminal to the court of justice one looks in vain for a high moral standard. Crime is alike in high planes and low, and when an honest man is found I say honest, for there are no degrees of honesty his bravery is rewarded at first with sneers. Such a man comes, however, to be the admiration of all, for even the dishonest fear and admire honor. Such is the situation put at its extreme point. But the thirst for riches has become a game, so widespread as to make The value ^ a menace an d ideals of integrity and moral- of right ity, of simplicity and straightforward dealing, must be inculcated in the younger generation at home and in the school. When Matthew Arnold said that "Conduct is three-fourths of our life and its largest Attainable Ideals ifa concern," l he could have added that the remaining fourth was conduct also. Conduct is character, and Beardshear 2 has put it strongly thus : " After all, the most substantial value of earth or sky is right character. It passes current in every world. It is not subject to fire and storm. Robbers cannot molest it, nor rust corrode, nor devils hinder. It is the most liberal of educations. Its beauty surpasses that of the stars and of the human face. Character is the security of commerce, the wealth of nations, the light of the home, and the hope of the world. Use it and it is more. Its possession impoverishes no one and enriches the world. Give character eternities and it is a never-fading youth. It is the seed of a myriad aeons and the handiwork of an infinite loving God. It is good to live by, and, best of all, to spend eternity by." He speaks truly who says, "To form character is to form grooves in which are to flow the purposes of our lives." In speaking of the ideal of integrity, of high moral purpose and strict honesty, I have in mind no sentimental, Sabbath-day type of the article. I am think- ing rather of that kind of honesty and moral- ^^ con ducive ity that is on the bottom of the box as well , to civic . al . -., , righteousness as on the top ; that is with us in solitude as well as in company; that is on call seven days of each week. " You cannot judge a man's life by the success of a moment. You must know his life as a whole. " An ideal that makes for right because it is right, and not from policy, is the kind we want. ' A civic righteousness that holds the right of the people at large as co-equal with that of one's family; 1 Literature and Dogma. 8 William Miller Beardshear, A Boy Again and Other Prose Poems, p. 1 86. 11 162 Ideals and Democracy that considers the country's honor as sacred as personal honor; that makes obligations toward corporations or strangers as binding as those touching a friend or brother this is the civic righteousness needed to-day, and to attain this standard we must set high ideals. Some one has said that a better life and a better law in this country does not imply a revision of the Constitution ; Civilization ^ means rather that we must revise our own the product of constitutions. There is a world of philoso- realized ideals phy in ^ utterance of David Harum when he states that we cannot have an "honest hoss race until we have an honest human race." Ideals of honor are becoming more and more popular every day. No people is truly civilized until ideals of honor and high moral purpose have developed into everyday realities; and these ideals can never be realized until man understands that it is "not intellectual statements of opinion that count, but the ability to recognize the relation of God to man." It is "better to swim and live in a clear stream than to sink in a mud hole." The demand to-day is for individuals who are absolutely honest; who cannot be bribed or frightened or coerced into doing that which they know to be wrong or unworthy. "Whatever we have dared to think That dare we also do. " In talking to a friend recently he repeated a statement made to him by a fellow townsman. " How do you know that to be a fact?" said I. My friend looked at me in amazement. "He told me so," was his simple comment. He told me so ! That was sufficient. When this man said a thing my friend knew it to be the absolute truth. The man's word was complete guarantee of fact. Those who knew him appreciated the worth of the man. Attainable Ideals We sometimes speak in terms of veneration of the man who is known to be absolutely honest. The un- common thing, however, should be to find the The real man who is dishonest. Men commonly lack American what has already been spoken of as backbone. nmi We fear the sneer or criticism of those who wish us to follow the lead of the mass. We dare not stand alone even though we know we are in the right. We shrink from unpopularity. We must be with the crowd or "on the fence," lest we lose prestige or social standing, or, perchance, a customer from our business. Daily do we come in contact with so-called well-meaning men who insist they must give short weight or wink at a shady business transaction because other business men do the same. ' The spirit of get-rich-quick is contagious. Money we believe to be necessary because we are possessed of the desire to make an equal showing with our neighbors in everything other than the things of the spirit. "What America needs more than railway extension, and Western irrigation, and a low tariff, and a bigger wheat crop, and a merchant marine, and a new navy, is a revival of piety, the kind mother and father used to have piety that counted it good business to stop for daily family prayers before breakfast, right in the middle of the harvest; that quit work a half hour earlier Thursday night, so as to get the chores done and go to prayer meeting; that borrowed money to pay the preacher's salary and prayed fervently in secret for the salvation of the rich man who looked with scorn on such unbusiness-like behavior. That 's what we need now to clean this country of the filth of graft, and of greed, petty and big; of worship of fine houses and big lands and high office and grand social functions. What is this thing which we are worshipping but a vain repetition of what decayed nations fell down and worshipped just 164 Ideals and Democracy before their light went out ? Read the history of Rome in decay and you'll find luxury there that could lay a big dollar over our little doughnut that looks so large to us. Great wealth never made a nation substantial nor honor- able. There is nothing on earth that looks good that is so dangerous for a man or a nation to handle as quick, easy, big money. If you do resist its deadly influence the chances are that it will get your son. It takes greater and finer heroism to dare to be poor in America than to charge on earthworks in Manchuria. " l A prominent clergyman, fired with enthusiasm and dominated by high ideals, had as a listener from Sunday to Sunday a young business man of great competition promise and sterling qualities. In course discourages of time this parishioner became wavering in attendance, and he finally left the church entirely. Inquiry on the part of the clergyman drew from the business man the statement that he had found it absolutely impossible to follow the teachings of the minister, which he knew to be right, and at the same time make a success of his business. He had used every endeavor to be straightforward and just in his dealings. But his competitors were not honest, and his customers slipped away from him. He must make a living, and he could not lend himself to hypocrisy by pretending to believe in the lessons enunciated by the minister. Bad as the situation is, it is much less serious than the young business man pictured it. One honest man in a community where ideals are at a low ebb may soon create a changed sentiment, and little by little the moral tone of the entire community may be raised. We should expect honesty in every transaction and should boldly denounce 1 Editorial in the Wall Street Journal, reprinted by the Board of Home Missions of the Presbyterian Church. Attainable Ideals 165 any attempt at corruption. Purchasing a paper from a newsboy in a strange city, I handed him a nickel and walked away. This was the price I paid for my morning paper at home. After me ran the newsboy to return to me some pennies. I thanked him cordially and accepted the change. "But," say the critics, "you should have allowed him to keep the change as a reward for his hon- esty." Must then the individual be rewarded for being honest ? Must we put a premium upon common decency as if we rather expected every man to be a knave? The young business man, had he followed his inclina- tions, would have conducted a legitimate business. With backbone and a determination to be oneself one may easily retain his self-respect. To be successful it is necessary to play the part of success. "You play many parts," said his friend to a great actor of the day. "You play Henry the Eighth, and King Lear, and Hamlet, and Caesar, and Macbeth. How do you impersonate them all so successfully?" "Yes," was the reply, "I play many parts. I play Henry the Eighth, I play Lear, I play Hamlet and Caesar, but I am Macbeth!" It is not the simple thing to live as one ought to live, but it is the courageous thing. In political life the individual man or the small group originates j Pohti'Cdl the movement looking toward an improved , ideals condition of affairs. This man or group of men are subject to jest, and scorn, and ridicule, and threat; but the movement, in the beginning restricted and unpopular, may develop into one of state-wide char- acter. It no longer is regarded as unpatriotic to forsake a party ticket and vote for the honest candidate, regard- less of party affiliation. "The man who for party for- sakes righteousness goes down, and the armed battlements of God march over him." We are coming to understand 166 Ideals and Democracy that there is no inherent righteousness in a party. Only as the party offers the most convenient channel for the establishing and maintaining of a principle is the party to be righteous. If men are not honest with themselves the party to which they belong must needs be corrupt, and the state is made to suffer. For victory at the expense of corruption is less than victory. Our experiments in popular government have more than once demonstrated the truth of William Jones's reply to his query: "What constitutes a State? . . . Men, who their duties know, But know their rights, and knowing, dare maintain." 1 No man should be tied to party. He who votes with his party against his better judgment, simply that party standards may be maintained, sacrifices his right to be called a good citizen. He is loyal to neither state nor nation. Many a man will stay with his party in a state or national contest, but reserves the right to vote for individuals and for principles in a local or municipal election. In the former instance he allows himself to be tied hand and foot. A voter should stand by his party, if he has one, so long as the party holds for what he knows to be right and for the best interest of society at large. All of this means independence of thought; a desire to strive for and uphold the right as the light is revealed; a determination to keep clear of the spoils of office, the dishonest practices of commercial life, and the littleness of things that drag personal integrity in the dust. Every- where strong, courageous, determined men and women are making popular a movement that has for its object the dignifying of personal cleanliness. They are demand- ing that our commercial relations at home and abroad be above criticism. They are closing the gateway for the i Ode in Imitation of Alcceus. Attainable I deals ifij payment of political debts through the appointment of incompetent or graft-seeking office holders. They are creating a public opinion that shall render it difficult for Boards or Commissions to long continue practices that are to the disgrace of the community and dangerous to the public, but that have been continued as no one cared or dared to raise a voice in protest against the distemper of the time. Of these strong, courageous, determined men and women there is daily an increasing number. The triumph of individual honesty and social integrity demands a rallying to the standards. "God give us men! A time like this demands Strong minds, great hearts, true faith and ready hands: Men whom the lust of office does not kill, Men whom the spoils of office cannot buy; Men who possess opinions and a will; Men who have honor men who will not lie; Men who can stand before a demagogue And damn his treacherous flatteries without winking; Tall men, sun-crowned, who live above the fog In public duty and in private thinking For while the rabble, with their thumj>worn creeds, Their large professions and their little deeds, Mingle in selfish strife, lo! Freedom weeps, Wrong rules the land, and waiting Justice sleeps. " 1 He who has missed the joy that comes from rendering service has cheated himself. The call of the dollar may be so loud as to drown the call for service. The sordid, selfish individual, if he think only O f of self, becomes more sordid. The miser thinks only of accumulating. He contributes nothing to the common welfare; he enters not at all into the civic or community life. A large class of respected and more or less respectable folk evade the assessor if they can, pay ' 1 True Men, by J. G. Holland 12 168 Ideals and Democracy their taxes only after protest, offer themselves never in the interest of public service, keep away from the polls on primary or election day, and actually believe or pre- tend to believe they are well within the bounds of the law. These people, many of them possessing wealth and education, contribute nothing to the life of the commu- nity. Only as they are enumerated in the census sheet are their fellow townsmen aware of their presence. Life is not measured by length of day or size of bank account. "We live in deeds, not years; in thoughts, not breaths; In feelings, not in figures on a dial. " ! The unspoiled, natural child is happy in his giving and joyous in his serving. The helpful people are those who carry the spirit of the child into their daily lives. Before a rude fireplace, stretched out upon the floor, his only light coming from the smouldering logs, I see a boy, and beside him the Bible, Pilgrim's Progress, and the dictionary. And as he reads he patiently turns from time to time to consult the dictionary. As a youth I see him in a clearing, surrounded by trees that his own ax has felled and from which he is splitting fence rails. Again I see him, still a youth, but doing the work of a man, plying back and forth upon the mighty Mississippi. As a young man he stands with his companion in the city away yonder by the Gulf, before the block upon which the slaves are sold, and as he looks and listens his fists clench and his eyes glisten as he says: "If ever I get a chance I '11 hit this accursed institution and I '11 hit it hard." And as the President of this great republic I see him signing the Emancipation Proclamation that struck the chains from an innumerable company. To the poor in spirit and the penniless in purse he gave advice as a iFestus, scene, "A Country Town," by Philip James Bailey. Attainable Ideals i6g lawyer, and no fee would tempt him to work in an unright- eous cause. He suffered alike with his soldiers and with his opponents. This man's whole life was one of service, and not alone the people of our own country but those in the most remote corners of the world remember Abra- ham Lincoln. He lives to-day and forever. "He was the North, the South, the East, the West, The thrall, the master, all of us in one. " > Not what can I get out of a thing, but rather, what can I put into it? This is the spirit. We are to-day, more than ever before, one great family, each member dependent upon his fellows. One cold winter morning, while awaiting a train in an elevated station in New York City, a newsboy approached me. His coat was thin and ragged, his hat tattered, his shoes out at the toes, his fingers blue with cold. Not more than nine years of age, he wore pendent from a buttonhole in his coat a tag upon which was printed: "I will give ten per cent of my earnings to-day to the Philadelphia strikers." As I bought my paper a man at my side advised jthe boy to keep his money and purchase a pair of shoes. As I read my paper the thought kept crowding into my mind that the newsboy was learning one of the greatest lessons in life, the lesson of service. What matter the justice or injustice of the strike? In Phila- delphia there were suffering mothers and starving children. Poverty and want and privation were abroad, and the boy was learning that suffering anywhere meant suffering for him. His sacrifice of self meant service for others. Perhaps after all he was the gainer for his act. No better illustration comes to me of the unselfish character and the one who sought to serve than that of the i Lincoln's Grave, by Maurice Thompson. Ideals and Democracy life and work of William Wallace Stetson. The following was written while Mr. Stetson was lying ill ; and although well aware he could not remain to see the Christmas dawn, he desired his friends to have his last message: "Souls grow lean if they think much of self or the recompense they should receive for exhibitions of concern for others. They are victims of a poverty no riches can relieve or conceal. They are barred from those sanctu- aries where the heart sings the songs of peace. As the days loiter to their close they discover life is a sleepless torture. They refuse to learn it is not what you have that makes happiness but the sacrifice made and forgot- ten that brings joys which abide. Life yields the larg- est dividends when you serve as spontaneously as you breathe and with as little aftermath of reflection. When this truth illumines your dome you will exalt daily tasks by associating with them tropical greetings, assuring welcomes, honest smiles, strengthening words, comforting deeds, delicate praises and ante-mortem recognitions. Then you will walk with those who travel in lonely paths, place a lifting hand beneath wearying burdens, give unregretted dollars to carry sunshine into shadowed lives, dispense home-brewed hospitalities and nerve the elect with your hail and God-speed. Such service will tint the dawn when your lovers are legion, shed around you 'the light that never was on sea or land,' sing anthems in the chancel of your soul and let you whisper, as the canvas of the Lord slips down the west, '"I hope to see my Pilot face to face When I have crost the bar. 1 " * Ideals of service and of responsibility are given all too small a place in our conception of things. To develop 1 The Joy of Serving was written as a Christmas Greeting for 1910. Attainable Ideals 171 a true democracy man must be fired with love for his fellows and be ready to render service in their behalf. Man too must recognize his responsibilities, not from the standpoint of the mass only but as an individual. He must look upon himself as one of the responsible elements of which society is composed and appreciate that he is to become great only as he is privileged to serve. Man must strive not to be too great to render service but to humble himself that he may be exalted enough to serve. The history of nations shows that they were well on their way to decline when the people began to live away from the idea of responsibility. As responsi- Al _ , . J The birth bihty is felt, the desire to serve is strength- O f democracy ened. Let the desire to serve, however, never degenerate into a desire for glory, or position, or applause. Ideals of responsibility and service mean brotherly love achieved, and out of brotherly love is born democracy. An individual responsibility means a united responsi- bility, and a service by individuals means a joint service. On the twenty-fourth day of July, 1908, I sat with a vast company of more than one hundred thousand persons in the great stadium in London and witnessed the finish of the world's famous Marathon race, the first ever run outside the continent. Within the inclosure we saw the sixteen-hundred-meters relay race won by the Americans; on this day the pole vault record was broken by an American, and the high hurdles, the shot put, and the hammer throw were won by representatives of the United States. But while these events and others were taking place in the stadium, fifty-seven men, representing sixteen different countries, were running as in the Marathon races of old; running under the scorching sun from Windsor Castle a distance of twenty-six miles to London; running as ran Pheidippides from Marathon to Athens. if 2 Ideals and Democracy From time to time, as news of the race would reach the stadium, the numbers of those leading would be displayed, and as their names became known through reference to the printed program the stadium would resound with the shouts and cheers of their countrymen. As mile after mile was covered, Clark of Great Britain and Burn of Canada were each in turn leading, and these gave way to Hefferon of South Africa, to Lord and Price of Great Britain, and in their turn to men of other countries, but no word from representatives of our own country until the nineteenth mile, when Hefferon, an Italian called Durando, and a man named Hayes from the United States were in the lead. And from that moment until the finish, one hundred thousand persons stood upon the seats and waved their hats and shouted, and one hundred thousand faces turned toward the entrance to the stadium ; for the race would be won by the contestant who should first make a half circuit of the track and reach the tape unaided. From the twenty-mile post the Italian led ; the American seemed to be forgotten, and when Durando appeared at the gate he was greeted with cheers from every nation there represented. But he was exhausted; he stumbled and fell, and officials helped him to rise; he staggered forward, and fell again; and five times he fell, and as many times was raised and carried forward by willing hands until he reached the tape. Now as the flag of Italy was flung aloft on the pole, Hayes, the American, entered. Those of us who gave the matter calm consideration knew that even so worthy a runner as Durando could not claim the race; and as Hayes started on his course around the track the tension was broken and the cheers were deafening. The United States is commonly spoken of by English- men as "the States." As Hayes, unaided and with Attainable Ideals 173 reserve strength, worked his way down the track, some one shouted, "The American! The American!" An Englishman, who was as enthusiastic as the Democrat Americans themselves, cried out, and with impossible the best of feeling, "What state is he from?" without unit y Quicker than I can tell you, an American at my right was on his feet. He was the true American. For him there were on this day no states, no territories, no divisions in our great land; no New York, Chicago, Boston, San Francisco; no North or South, no East or West; no New England, or Mississippi Valley, or Pacific Coast. There was only one great, undivided country, and as the query came, "What state is he from?" this American, with fist clenched, with eyes ablaze, and in a voice to be heard by all about shouted, "From U.S. A." The effect was magical. There was for some moments the silence that sometimes follows a benediction. As I look back upon it now, this event furnishes the most remarkable illus- tration I have ever known of the value of unity. One nation, one people, one sentiment, one goal. There were no halfway measures. The time is coming in this country when the nation is to rise or fall as honesty or dishonesty is the ruling force. There can be no compromise in this. And until the ideal of a oneness in honesty, in purpose, in service, is before all the people, and this ideal has developed into a realization, the real democracy will not be upon us. Are You Equal To Your Task? "The great teacher," says Orville T. Bright, "whether in the country school or the university, is the one whose work is limited only to his possibilities not for self but for children." These possibilities, it is well to know, may be greatly increased by the use of books like these: BOOKS FOR TEACHERS Common Sense Didactics. HENRY SABIN, Superintendent of Public Instruction for the State of Iowa for eight years. The teacher's friend and guide, full of common sense, inspiration, and understanding of the teacher and child. Cloth, 343 pages . $1.00 The Child. AM Y ELIZA TANNER. Clark University. Worcester, Massachusetts. The first complete scientific treatise on the child his thinking, feeling, and doing. Cloth, 430 pages $1.25 Education for Citizenship. Dr. GEORG KERSCHENSTEINER. Member of the Royal Council of Education, and Director of the Public Schools of Munich. The purpose of the book is to make of children better men and women, to place before them a noble conception of civic duty, and inspire them to live it. Cloth, 133 pages 75 cents The Evolution of "Dodd." WILLIAM HAWLEY SMITH A forcible illustration in story form of t he teacher's power to make or mar the life of the boy in her care. Cloth, 458 pages . 60 cents Growing a Life. CHARLES A. EVANS. B.Sc., M.A.. President of Central State Normal School, Edmond, Oklahoma. Invigorating in thought, the book upholds with enthusiasm the doctrine of child study and child development. Cloth, 214 pages . . Ji.oo Geography in Horace Mann School, Teachers' College, Columbia University, New York. Full of help for any elementary teacher of geography. Cloth. Ji.oo Five Messages for Primary Teachers. NETTIE ALICE SAWYER, formerly Supervisor of Primary Education, Seattle. Messages rich in practical suggestion, as well as exercises for develop- ing the first-grade child. Cloth Ji.oo RAND McNALLY & COMPANY CHICAGO NEW YORK KRSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBKAKY BERKELEY THIS BOOK IS DUE ON THE LAST DATE STAMPED BELOW Books not returned on time are subject to a fine of 50c per volume after the third d 'iO JM.T volume after the sixth d;r d.-inand in.-ty U- renewed if application is made i expiration of loan period. JUN 23 1920 f.Om 7,'1G UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY