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CHAOS OR COSMOS? 
 
CHAOS OR COSMOS? 
 
 BY 
 
 EDGAR L. HEERMANCE 
 
 NEW YORK 
 E. P. BUTTON & COMPANY 
 
 681 FIFTH AVENUE 
 1922 
 
COPTRIGHT, 1922, 
 
 BY E. P. DUTTON & COMPANY 
 
 All BighU B^&erved 
 
 i •* *^' 
 
 /^9 
 
 IPrlnted 1b the Vnltod States of Amexloa 
 
To 
 
 N. K. L. H. 
 
 COMRADE AND 
 COLLABORATOR 
 
 4865 i 
 
PREFACE 
 
 Is the world in which we live a chaos, a welter of blind 
 forces and brutish passions ? Or is it a cooperative enter- 
 prise, through which Man and God are slowly working out 
 an order of justice and brotherhood ? 
 
 That is the question men are asking, with an impor- 
 tunity no previous age has known. We are coming to 
 distrust Materialism. As a philosophy of life, it has been 
 stifling moral and religious forces that are essential to 
 progress. It oifers no hope for the future. Selfishness 
 spells exploitation and class struggle. The idea of the 
 survival of the strong brought our generation to the World 
 War and its terrible aftermath. We have been passing 
 through a period of intellectual panic. Many current 
 theories of the world have gone into bankruptcy. What is 
 to take their place ? 
 
 The relation of man to the Universe must be approached 
 today in the attitude of the scientist. For the modem 
 mind, knowledge is not something fixed and final, but a 
 series of approximations. Some men still take their opin- 
 ions on authority. Abstract philosophers continue to treat 
 ideas as if they were the only realities. In this book we 
 shall make inductions from the concrete facts given us by 
 science and human experience. 
 
 Though not a biologist, my studies have compelled me 
 to take the biological point of view. Man is an organ- 
 ism ; his life, physical and mental, is a process of adapta- 
 tion. To reverse Descartes' dictum: I think, therefore 
 Something is, to which my mind is seeking to adjust itself. 
 And that Something is the vast external Universe, which 
 forms my environment. It is of little importance to know 
 the exact source of our ideas. They may be built up out 
 
 vii 
 
viii PEEFACE 
 
 of sense impressions ; they may be due to revelation or to 
 some special intuitive faculty. The real question is, what 
 our ideas are good for, how far we can use them to know 
 our Environment and control its forces. All fruitful 
 thinking is a form of biological adjustment. What we 
 call Truth and Certainty are the degree of our success. 
 
 That truth is a matter of utility is the ruling principle 
 of what is known in the philosophic den as Pragmatism. 
 One weak point in the work of this school should be cor- 
 rected. It has had no criterion for judging whether an 
 idea has practical value, it gave no valid reason why a 
 theory is true because it works. There is a biological test 
 and a biological reason. Whatever in our experience, or 
 in the arranging of our experience, constitutes a genuine 
 adaptation to the Environment, is true to that extent. 
 Science and Philosophy, Religion and Ethics, are phases 
 of the same fundamental process. They represent our 
 human attempts to know the world and fit ourselves to 
 its conditions. Any experience, idea or theory which 
 enables us to do that successfully, has a survival value. 
 
 Our method carries us one step further. The conditions 
 which determine man's adjustment in its various aspects, 
 should throw light on the nature of the Universe. We 
 must adapt ourselves to a particular kind of world. What 
 is that world ? 
 
 For an answer to this question, it is not enough to inters 
 rogate the astronomer or the biologist. Our survey must 
 be as broad as life itself. A certain foreshortening in my 
 treatment is thus explained. Much more space is given to 
 those problems which involve man as a social unit. The 
 earlier chapters on the natural sciences are necessary for 
 a proper perspective, but they have been kept within a 
 brief compass. In order to do this, I have assumed some 
 familiarity with recent scientific progress. Detailed re- 
 views and discussions, given in my former book on The 
 Unfolding Universe, have not been repeated. To a cer- 
 tain extent the present volume covers the same ground. 
 
PREFACE ia 
 
 But from an entirely different angle. Then, in seeking 
 to understand the Universe, we led up through the Phys- 
 ical, Organic, and Psychological fields, to the explanation 
 given by Religion. In this book we take the Christian 
 religion as a working hypothesis, and test it by application 
 to the Universe of our daily experience. 
 
 Our survey, after the opening chapters, takes on the 
 character of a pilgrimage. We pass through various 
 regions of human activity, stopping long enough in each 
 to apply the hypothesis of a cooperative and moral Uni- 
 verse. The aim is to gain an interpretation of man's 
 world taken as a whole, which may serve as a basis for 
 social ethics. For this purpose a horizontal treatment is 
 necessary. We cannot follow the vertical treatment of the 
 historian. The function of History is to serve as the 
 testing ground for ethical theories, rather than their 
 source. Mr. Wells' excellent Outline, for example, was 
 preceded by a long series of social studies. He had drawn 
 conclusions as to the meaning of what man is doing, long 
 before he tried out these conclusions through a study of 
 what man has done. Unless one has a solid basis of ethical 
 theory, the reading of History is largely meaningless. 
 
 I have tried to select material that is most obvious and 
 unquestioned, avoiding controversy, speculation and pre- 
 diction. If any one wishes to do battle with me, it must 
 be on the ground of what the material means, the induc- 
 tions to be drawn from it. I offer no apology for using 
 the records of dairy cows or the elimination of yellow 
 fever at Guayaquil as evidence on a problem in Philos- 
 ophy. In studying national behavior, the attempt is made 
 to secure completed reactions of recent date. For indi- 
 vidual and industrial relations I have taken my examples 
 from America, where they could be studied at closer range. 
 Those living in other countries may cut off similar cross 
 sections of our common world. If the tone of an Amer- 
 ican writer is more optimistic, a less clouded sky may give 
 a clearer observation. 
 
X PREFACE 
 
 We shall study social experiences because of the bearing 
 they may have on the character of the Universe. Our 
 immediate concern is with principles rather than with 
 programs and applications. It will be well for the reader 
 to keep this distinction in mind. I realize how inadequate 
 is the treatment of many questions. This is due to the 
 necessity of keeping a balanced discussion of so wide a 
 field, as well as to my own limitations as a student. I 
 have sought to atone for it to some extent bj concreteness, 
 and by adding suggestions for further reading. In addi- 
 tion to the works cited in the text, many of the more 
 important chapters contain selected reference lists. Books 
 are chosen which give standard treatment from various 
 angles, and full bibliographies. I venture the hope that 
 many readers may be stimulated to follow the subjects I 
 have briefly sketched. They may thus gain something of 
 the zest of discovery which has been mine through the 
 studies of many years. 
 
 If I fail to discuss many philosophical or theological 
 problems, it is not because I consider them uninteresting, 
 or unimportant, or incapable of inductive treatment, but 
 simply because they do not fall within the scope of this 
 book. The most notable omission is the question of Per- 
 sonality. Just what human personality is, and how far 
 human analogies may be used to describe the God with 
 whom men are in relation, is a large and complex problem. 
 I do not mean to beg the question, but merely to postpone 
 it, for full discussion in a later volume. When an author 
 has the Universe on his shoulders, he may be pardoned for 
 not carrying more of the load than is absolutely necessary. 
 
 The rapid progress of Science during the past few years 
 makes it necessary to correct some of my former state- 
 ments of fact and interpretation. This is especially true 
 in the fields of Astronomy and Biology. The scientific 
 material on which our discussion is based is given in more 
 detail in the Appendix. An appendix, like a footnote, is 
 not intended to be read by people in general. It is a 
 
PREFACE xi 
 
 morsel thrown out to the advanced student, to divert him 
 from criticizing the statements in the text. 
 
 My book is a series of sketches. A volume could be 
 written on the subject of each chapter. In some cases a 
 whole library is at our command, as I know only too well. 
 1 have not sought to strip the countryside of flowers, but 
 to gather samples of the most characteristic. The reader 
 might prefer another selection or arrangement He may 
 object to some of my attempts at botanizing. But the 
 flowers are from Nature herself; he may not criticize 
 them. If we do not like the facts of the Universe, we may 
 shut our eyes ; but the facts are still there. 
 
 E. L. BO. 
 'Nbw Haven, Conn., 
 December 15, 1921. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 Introduction xv 
 
 I. Preliminary: Jesus' View of the Uni- 
 verse 1 
 
 A Statement of the Christian Hypothesis. 
 
 PART I. THE EXTERNAL UNIVERSE. 
 Problem a. Is the Universe Material or Spiritual? 
 II. The Passing of Physical Materialism . 19 
 
 III. God Restated 38 
 
 IV. Man's Communion with Nature ... 35 
 
 Prohlem h. Is Our Planet Unique? 
 V. The Earth and the Universe .... 43 
 
 Problem c. Was the Evolution of Ma/n> Accidental or 
 
 Natural? 
 
 VI. The Universe Unfolding 52 
 
 PART II. THE RELATION OF MAN TO THE 
 UNIVERSE. 
 
 Problem d. Monism or Pluralism? 
 VII. The Making of Man .... 
 VIII. Building the World of Thought 
 IX. Completing the Physical World 
 X. Developing the Food Supply 
 XL The Control of Health . . . 
 XII. Shaping the Course of Providence 
 
 jdii 
 
 65 
 77 
 87 
 95 
 105 
 116 
 
xiv CONTENTS 
 
 PAET III. THE MORALITY OF THE UNIVEESE. 
 
 Problem e. Is the Universe cm the Side of Righteous- 
 ness and Goodwill? 
 
 Section 1. INDIVIDUAL RELATIONS. 
 
 XIII. The Place op Altruism 133 
 
 XIV. The Higher Selfishness 143 
 
 XV. Character as an Asset 153 
 
 XVI. The Cooperation of Prayer 167 
 
 Section 2. INDUSTRIAL RELATIONS. 
 
 XVII. Industrial War . 175 
 
 XVIII. Attempted Remedies 195 
 
 XIX. Democracy in Industry 211 
 
 Section 3. NATIONAL RELATIONS. 
 
 XX. National Aggression 231 
 
 XXI. Colonies and Trade 250 
 
 XXII. The Treatment of Other Peoples . . .264 
 
 XXIII. The Color Line .282 
 
 XXIV. The Growth of Common Interest . . . 294 
 
 XXV. The Future 311 
 
 Appendix A. Index to Bible Passages in Chapter 
 
 I 331 
 
 Appendix B. Recent Progress in Cosmogony . . 334 
 
 Appendix C. Habitable Planets among the Stars 339 
 
 Appendix D. The Emergence of a New Species 341 
 
 Appendix E. Chemistry and the Organism . . 342 
 
 Appendix F. The Evolution op the Organic 
 
 Machine 344 
 
 General Index 349 
 
INTRODUCTION 
 
 Man is part of a Universe, to which his life is in per- 
 petual adjustment. In it he lives and moves and has his 
 being. The character of that Universe — its laws and 
 forces, its conditions of success and failure — is a matter 
 ^of supreme importance to individuals and nations. 
 
 Many working theories of the Universe have been pro- 
 pounded. Some of these were direct attempts to explain 
 the world, put forward by philosophers or theologians, or 
 by scientific workers in various fields. Often the theory 
 t was little more than a fixed attitude of mind, an assump- 
 tion as to the world and man's relation to it, a pragmatic 
 creed by which actions were guided. Of these hypotheses, 
 many have failed because they did not account for all the 
 facts. Others furnished no 'sure guide to success in the 
 practical adjustment of men's lives to the world. The 
 theory was discredited because it did not work; the real 
 Universe was different from what was described or as- 
 sumed. A philosopher has argued from false premises, 
 which later cause the structure of his thought to come 
 tumbling down. A scientist has interpreted the Universe 
 from the standpoint of his own studies, and left out of 
 account the equally important contribution of other sci- 
 ences. A ruler ignores moral laws that are as inexorable 
 as gravitation, and ends at Amerongen or the guillotine. 
 A workman revolutionist kills the goose which lays the 
 golden egg. A minister of the gospel pictures the world 
 and man as he thinks they ought to be, not as they really 
 are, and people choose reality. A captain of industry 
 acts on a conception of human relations which makes them 
 mechanical instead of human, and Bolshevism lurks 
 around the comer. The shore is strewn with wrecked 
 
 XV 
 
xvi INTRODUCTION 
 
 theories. In looking at tlie Universe, it behooves us all 
 to see it straight and see it whole. 
 
 Like many thinkers, in many lands, I have found my- 
 self turning for guidance to the great Teacher from whom 
 we date our calendar. The Christian religion, as a prac- 
 tical philosophy of life, defines God in terms of Jesus' 
 teaching, and affirms that the Universe is on the side of 
 righteousness and goodwill. Is this true ? Does the Uni- 
 verse really possess such a character ? That is the problem 
 which is before us for solution. The philosophy of Jesus 
 has the right to be tested, like other hypotheses, by experi- 
 ence and experiment. In fact his theory is being tested 
 today, not only by men and women in their individual 
 lives, but by institutions and nations. The result should 
 prove, as far as proof is possible, whether the Universe 
 is Chaos or Cosmos. My book attempts to gather and 
 weigh such evidence. It is intended to be inductive in 
 method and entirely open-minded in spirit. The Christian 
 teaching is accepted as a working hypothesis. To learn 
 how well it interprets the world as we find it — this is the 
 object of our quest 
 
 The Christian theory of the world is embodied in the 
 teachings of Jesus. [Chapter Jf.] Christ was a law- 
 giver, not in the sense of the legislator who enacts laws, 
 but of the scientist who discovers them. The truth which 
 he found, and proclaimed in the fact of bitter opposition, 
 was that of a Universe essentially spiritual, the manifesta- 
 tion of the ever present Father. This Universe is still 
 unfolding, and its completion requires the active coopera- 
 tion of men. Both as joint creator and as the object of 
 creation, the individual man is supremely important The 
 righteous and loving character of God makes integrity 
 and goodwill, not only the basis of Ethiea, but the clue 
 to practical success. 
 
 I am increasingly impressed by the philosophy that 
 underlies Jesus' teaching, his interpretation of the exter- 
 nal world in terms of God as Spirit This is more than 
 
INTRODUCTION xvii 
 
 a doctrine of Divine immanence, as commonly understood. 
 For a generation, we have had a growing emphasis among 
 Christian writers on the idea of God in Nature. But 
 Jesus appeprs to me to put it the other way. He does not 
 sink God in Nature. He sees Nature as the direct activity 
 of God. He does not sharply separate the world from its 
 Author or Source. In a sense this is a revival of the older 
 Hebrew attitude. It stands in sharp opposition to the 
 dualism of God and the world which w© find in later 
 Judaism, and in the Latin stream of Christian Theology. 
 
 So much for our working hypothesis. Now let me out- 
 line the way it will be tested. Part I of our book is de- 
 voted to the Universe as a whole, without reference to the 
 problem of the individual. The antithesis of God and 
 His creation opened an unfortunate gulf between the re- 
 ligious man who emphasized God and the scientist study- 
 ing the material world. Is the Universe, of which we are 
 a part, essentially material or spiritual ? This is the first 
 of the five specific problems w'ith which our book deals. 
 We find a provisional answer [^Chapter 2~\ in the new 
 Physics, with its electrical explanation of Matter. The 
 collapse of physical materialism leaves the field clear for 
 the development of Jesus' idea of God's activity in Nature. 
 
 This conception of a dynamic Universe is common both 
 to recent Science and to the Christianity of Jesus. IChap- 
 ter ^.] The idea of God emerges from the vagueness of 
 speculative philosophy and practical dualism. If we see 
 Him at work in Nature, arguments to prove the existence 
 of a Divine Being become superfluous. Religion, in its 
 historic development, is seen as part of man's reaction to 
 the world in which he is placed, his attempt to adjust 
 himself to the Environment and come into practical rela- 
 tions with it. 
 
 I call special attention to this conception of Religion, 
 which I regard as of the greatest practical and theoretical 
 importance. The recent attempt of Durkheim, Overstreet 
 and others to identify God with Society, is mere theoriz- 
 
xviii mTRODUCTION 
 
 \ ing. "Society" is an abstraction; it has no concrete ex- 
 istence outside of the individuals who compose it. Man, 
 in his religious experience, appears to be dealing with 
 concrete realities, many of them definitely grounded in 
 his physical environment. He undoubtedly projects him- 
 self on the Universe. The view he takes of God is shaped 
 by current social concepts.^ But no one who studies the 
 history of Eeligion from the biological standpoint, would 
 be likely to develop the Society-God theory. One is led 
 rather to the Environment-God hypothesis which I have 
 given. There is much truth in Leuba's statement that 
 "God is not known, he is not understood ; he is used." 
 
 I leave undetermined the theological question of the 
 relation between God and the extra-human Universe. The 
 whole problem of Personality, human and Divine, I hope 
 to discuss in a later book. For our present purpose the 
 question is not material. What we want to know is 
 whether we live in a Chaos or a Cosmos. I merely adopt 
 Jesus' point of view, as I interpret it, and regard the 
 Universe as one of the forms in which God reveals Him- 
 seK to men. Christ teaches us to look on the external 
 world, not as so much Matter or Force, but as itself a 
 manifestation of the God he interprets to us, and with 
 Whom he brings us into practical relations. This position 
 makes the Divine Being more definite and real than where 
 one holds to a sharp dualism of God and the world. At 
 the same time it brings Religion, Science and History onto 
 a common plane, where relation and logical induction are 
 possible. If, at some points in the book, I appear to iden- 
 tify God and the Universe, this use of language is intended 
 as rhetorical rather than philosophical. 
 
 To resume the thread of my argument, Man in his com- 
 munion with JSTature [Chapter U, a breathing spell from 
 intellectual problems], has found therein a solace, a spir- 
 itual symbolism, and a mystical exaltation. 
 
 *See my Unfolding Unwerse, chap. 18, The Social Stages of Re- 
 ligion. 
 
IKTRODUCTION lix 
 
 Our idea of the Universe has been enormously expanded 
 by modem Astronomy. IChapter 5.] This introduces a 
 question Ox proportion, with regard to the earth and man. 
 IProhlem &.] The external world is still a unity. And in 
 this larger perspective, human life retains its intrinsic 
 value. The evidence at hand leads us to reject the possi- 
 bility of other inhabited worlds, from which the life of 
 our, planet might have been derived. We are thus thrown 
 back on the current scientific conception of life, as a more 
 complex development of the phenomena which we know 
 as physical. This position is in harmony with Jesus' idea 
 of Matter as an expression of God's activity. 
 
 The long evolution of life on our planet culminates in 
 the appearance of Man. [Chapter 6.] Was this a cosmic 
 accident, or was it a natural result of the forces involved ? 
 In other words, are we to accept the Christian postulate 
 of a definite goal in Creation? IProhlem c] The facts 
 do not bear out the idea of Ged as an Engineer operating 
 upon a world entirely distinct from Himself. Recent 
 Biology, however, appears entirely consistent with a dy- 
 namic Universe unfolding from within. 
 
 In Part II we take up the question of the Individual. 
 Is the Universe a strict Monism, in which the individual 
 human being is submerged? Or, as Christianity affirms, 
 has the Monism of the extra-human world become a Plur- 
 alism, a Republic of cooperating wills? [Problem d.~\ 
 This problem is of so much practical importance, in view 
 of certain tendencies toward philosophical absolutism and 
 religious pantheism, that considerable space is devoted to 
 it. We waste no time discussing such abstract questions 
 as the nature of the will, or freedom versus determinism. 
 Taking man as an organism, in constant interaction with 
 the Universe which forms his Environment, we merely 
 ask what difference he is able to make in the net result. 
 Man's part in Creation is sketched, and the nature of 
 various human functions and activities. [Chapters 7 to 
 12,'] We find cumulative evidence that man, in his men- 
 
XX INTRODUCTION 
 
 tal life, is not a part of God, but rather a unit actively 
 cooperating with God. 
 
 Part III deals with the problem of Morality. Is the 
 Universe to which man is seeking adjustment, and with 
 whose forces he is cooperating, to be considered as right- 
 eous and beneficent ? [Problem e.] Here again the evi- 
 dence is sought in the concrete rather than the abstract. 
 Section 1 covers Individual Relations. [Chapters IS to 
 15.'] Through a study of human behavior we seek to 
 determine the conditions in society which bring to the 
 individual the most favorable reaction. A review of per- 
 sonal and business relations shows that man is succeeding 
 in proportion to his recognition of character and mutual 
 service. Altruism, in the sense of trust and goodwill, is 
 seen to be an outgrowth of natural human instincts, which 
 form the basis of our social and economic life. Similarly, 
 self-control, honesty and justice must be regarded as com- 
 munity assets. Jesus appears to be justified in extending 
 honor and goodwill from narrower groups to society as a 
 whole. His conception of the laws and conditions of the 
 Universe is thus confirmed. Human society becomes a 
 higher form of cooperation between men and God, which 
 finds expression in the Christian conception of Prayer. 
 [Chapter 16,] 
 
 This idea of righteousness and goodwill as expressing 
 the character of the Universe, must be tested in the field 
 of broader human relations. The case method of Be- 
 havior Psychology enables us to study modem Industry 
 objectively and without conscious bias. [Section 2, Chap- 
 ters 11 to 19.] Our object is to determine the industrial 
 conditions which have produced the most favorable physi- 
 cal and moral reaction on the part of the worker. The 
 failure of exploitation, whether on the side of Capital or 
 Labor, and the success that has followed experiments along 
 the line of common interest, give strong confirmation to 
 Jesus' interpretation of the world. 
 
 In applying to the life of Nations [Section S, Chapters 
 
INTRODUCTION xxi 
 
 20 to 23'] the same psychology of Behavior, we are break- 
 ing ground in a new field. The brief study which we are 
 able to make of national aggression, colonial management, 
 and the treatment of other peoples, indicates reactions 
 parallel to those in the industrial group. This result, even 
 if only tentative, is of the greatest importance. From a 
 pra9tical standpoint, the object of a nation must be to 
 act so as to secure favorable reactions from other nations 
 or from subject races. Turning to theory, we see that 
 there are moral laws of the Universe, which, like the laws 
 of mechanics or the laws of health, may be learned through 
 experience and experiment. And these laws apply to 
 nations as well as to individuals. The growth of commerce 
 has brought a rapid unification of the world. \_Chapter 
 2Jf,'] In national relations, whether official or unofficial, 
 the Christian principle of common interest finds increas- 
 ing application. 
 
 Summing up the evidence. [Oi^ap^er 25], we find that 
 the Christian attitude toward the Universe is essential to 
 modern civilization. Social progress is an achievement 
 rather than an evolution. Through a slow and painful 
 struggle, the race is learning to adjust itself to its Envir- 
 onment. The advance which has come through man's 
 knowledge and control of physical forces, only brings into 
 sharper relief his relative failure to know and control the 
 moral forces of the Universe. The true function of the 
 individual is found in his position as an independent and 
 cooperating unit. He is partner in a democratic cosmic 
 enterprise. And the objective of the age-long cooperation 
 between Man and God is the developing of human per- 
 sonalities. Promise of advance along this line is seen in 
 the lengthening of human life, the spread of democracy, 
 and the social solidarity introduced by the Industrial era. 
 
 And now, having spread out the menu, and as I trust 
 whetted the reader's appetite for what is to follow, let us 
 on with the dinner. 
 
CHAOS OR COSMOS? 
 
CHAOS OR COSMOS? 
 
 peeliminary: jesus' view op the universe 
 
 When the scientist faces a problem, he forms a working 
 hypothesis, and tests this by further observation and ex- 
 periment. In considering the question of Chaos or Cos- 
 mos, I propose to follow the same method. We shall start 
 with the idea that the Universe is an ordered Cosmos. 
 To make the idea more definite, let us take as its repre- 
 sentative the consistent and thorough-going statement 
 found in Christianity. The present chapter will develop 
 this hypothesis in some detail. In the remainder of the 
 book, we shall be occupied with testing Christianity as a 
 working theory. 
 
 The place to study the Christian idea of the Universe 
 is at its source. Increasingly there is borne in upon the 
 student the freshness, the modemness of Jesus. Though 
 the imagery of his statement is ancient and Oriental, he 
 seems to think much as we do today. This impression 
 is not merely subjective, or a result of our recovery of the 
 real Christ, beneath the whitewash of dogma. !N'or is it 
 enough to say that the universal form in which Jesus' 
 teaching is cast, has led each age to think of him as mod- 
 em, from its own viewpoint. We think in similar terms, 
 because the world of today is facing many of the same 
 social conditions and problems which Jesus faced in the 
 Roman Empire of the first century. Again, our modem 
 world is largely his creation. The civilization developed 
 
 1 
 
2 ,;;,.; l "chaos ob cosmos? 
 
 in -Europe' since the close of the Middle Ages owes to Jesus 
 many of its formative ideas and emphases. Once more, 
 the progress of the natural and social sciences during the 
 past few years, has confirmed in a striking way certain of 
 Christ's most fundamental positions, as will appear in 
 later chapters. Whatever the source of Jesus' teaching, 
 the Master of men, to whom we trace our Christian civili- 
 zation, must rank as one of the great leaders, not only in 
 Religion and Ethics, hut in Constructive Thought. 
 
 Jesus was not a philosopher in the professional sense. 
 He was unfamiliar with the methods and teaching of the 
 Greek schools. His interests were practical rather than 
 theoretical. But in working out a program for the better- 
 ment of humanity, he has given us the outlines of a well- 
 rounded theory of the world, an hypothesis capable of 
 practical testing and proof. 
 
 Questions of literary criticism cause little difficulty. 
 Leaving out parallel passages, probably seventy-five per 
 cent of the material could be rejected, without affecting 
 the net result. Jesus' main principles are found in all 
 our sources. Comparative study enables us to make allow- 
 ance for editorial revision, and for the bias with which 
 his words are reported by one or another. The chief prob- 
 lem is to rid ourselves of preconceived ideas and of theo- 
 logical bias. Some appreciation of Oriental imagery is 
 needed, and a strong sense of humor, since many of Jesus' 
 statements are in the form of droll exaggeration. Follow- 
 ing Jiilicher's warning, the parables must be used pri- 
 marily for the truths they were intended to teach, and 
 only with great reserve for indications of Jesus' attitude 
 on other questions. In many instances we find phrases 
 and images which appear inconsistent with Christ's gen- 
 eral philosophy of life. If correctly reported, he used 
 them either because they were current, and so an excellent 
 vehicle for teaching, or because his thought had not been 
 worked out in logical detail. 
 
 We are concerned only with the philosophical or social 
 
PKELIMINAKY: JESUS^ VIEW OF UNIVERSE 3 
 
 aspects of Jesus' teaching. These however made up the 
 bulk of his interest. He talks of God not as Pure Being, 
 but in relation to men. Personal salvation is closely 
 wrapped up with one's part in the Kingdom of God. 
 Jesus assumes a future life, but his immediate concern is 
 with the present life. I distinguish five main principles, 
 around which his teachings may be grouped. 
 
 1. The world in which we live is Divine. God is here. 
 We can detect His presence in Nature, and in human life. 
 His rule is a fact of daily experience. 
 
 Let us look first at Jesus' attitude toward E"ature. His 
 teachings are full of loving references to the natural world, 
 which show how closely he had observed it, how much it 
 meant to him. The sunset, the lightning, the mustard 
 seed, the harvest, the nesting birds, the foxes — these form 
 the basis for his homely parables and figures of speech. 
 Prom the pages of the natural world, Jesus reads the story 
 of the spiritual world. The wind blowing where it listeth 
 is not merely a wind. It tells him of the breath, the spirit 
 of God, coming, going. Sheep on the hillside are more 
 than sheep; they are the poor humans he is trying to 
 shepherd. The branches of the grape suggest the vital 
 relations between men and God. 
 
 It is to Nature that Jesus turns when he wishes to be 
 alone, alone with God. He seeks out some mountain, some 
 wilderness, some lonely garden. There he wrestles with 
 temptation ; there he renews his strength ; there he agonizes 
 in the crises of his life. Often Jesus takes the disciples 
 with him. "Come away to some wild spot," he says, "and 
 rest awhile." ^ Peter's confession is brought out amid 
 the mountain scenes near Csesarea Philippi. This com- 
 munion with God through God's world appears to have 
 been a habit with Jesus. 
 
 Not only is the physical world symbolic. Not only is 
 Nature a solace, and its silences the best approach to God. 
 But this natural world itself is God's world, throbbing 
 »Mk. 6:31. 
 
4 CHAOS OR COSMOS? 
 
 with Divine life, filled with God's activity, revealing the 
 loving Father's thought and care. It is God who adorns 
 the lilies. The sparrows are fed by Him; not one falls 
 to the ground without the Father. For Jesus, as Stapfer 
 has said, the natural world is transparent, and through 
 every part of it, every event, shows the Divine Face. Not 
 an impersonal First Cause. Not an absentee God. But the 
 Father, living, near, beneficent. This attitude toward the 
 Universe has its practical side. Though sharing the limi- 
 tations of our common humanity, the Master does not 
 despair of his daily bread, even when there is no visible 
 means of its coming, shows no fear in the face of the tem- 
 pest on the Lake of Galilee, never sees in Nature anything 
 terrible or cruel. 
 
 This note is heard frequently in earlier Hebrew litera- 
 ture. Something of the same mystical element was un- 
 doubtedly present in the Pharisaic teaching, at its best,^ 
 But the average pious Jew of Jesus' day appears to have 
 held a dualism of God and His world, which tended to- 
 ward externalism and materialism. God lived above the 
 sky, far removed from the world of His creation. This 
 holy and awful Being, whose very name was too sacred to 
 speak, acted on the world through His "Spirit," "Wis- 
 dom," or other intermediary. His intercourse with men 
 was carried on by angel messengers. God's will was law. 
 And this Law had been revealed in sacred writings, which, 
 by statement or inference, regulated the life of the chosen 
 people in its minutest detail. For the common man, the 
 emphasis, both in worship and conduct, was on the exter- 
 nal and physical. Religion was to him no longer a joy, 
 a good news, but a system of forms and rules, which only 
 the elect few were able to learn or carry out in their com- 
 pleteness. 
 
 Views as to the future were various and changing. 
 
 'See R. T. Herford, Pharisaism, 1912; C. G. Montefiori, Some 
 Elements of the Religious Teaching of Jesus, 1910; S. Schechter, 
 Some Aspects of Talmudic Theol., 1910. 
 
PEELIMINAEY: JESUS' VIEW OF UNIVERSE 5 
 
 Man's life practically ceased with the death of the body, 
 though the soul was considered to be sleeping, or continu- 
 ing* a shadowy existence of happiness or misery in the 
 underworld. In the Resurrection, however, the body 
 would be revitalized and take part in its old activities.^ 
 The good Jews would reign with the Messiah in a glorified 
 but still earthly Jerusalem.* The godless would be cast 
 into darkness and never-dying fire, either in Jerusalem's 
 city dump in the Gehenna valley, or in some celestial 
 parallel. Further speculation had begun to merge the 
 national hope into a world conflict between God and Satan. 
 Present and future stood in sharper antithesis. With the 
 final victory for the Kingdom of God, the sky and earth 
 would pass away. In their place would come a new order 
 of existence, still conceived as material in many of its fea- 
 tures. The heavenly Paradise, where the saints would 
 dwell with God, was to be separated by a great gulf from 
 the abode of the wicked. As yet the earth remained in 
 the hands of demons and other powers of Darkness, who 
 were the cause of sickness, Roman tyranny, and other 
 human woes. There was little hope of improvement, ex- 
 cept through the intervention of God on a cataclysmic 
 scale.' 
 
 Jesus' spiritualistic philosophy is in striking contrast. 
 God is Himself the ever-present Spirit, who may be wor- 
 shipped in any place. ^ He sees in secret, and is interested 
 in attitude and motive rather than external forms.'' Jesus 
 makes it clear that moral uncleanness is of the thought, 
 not of the hands.^ Our relations with God are personal ; ^ 
 they are not on a business basis. ^^ He is the giver of 
 
 •Compare the Sadducees' reduction to absurdity in Mk. 12:18-23. 
 
 *Matt. 20:21; Acts 1:6. 
 
 ■See W. Bousset, Relig. des Judentums im neutestamentUche 
 Zeitalter, 1903. An excellent summary is given by G. Hollmann, 
 Jewish Relig. in the Time of Christy Eng. trans., 1909. 
 
 •Jn. 4:21-24; Matt. 18:19-20. 
 
 'Matt. 6:21-37; 6:1-18; Mk. 2:23-27. 
 
 •Mk. 7:14-23; Lu. 11:37-41. Cf. Matt. 5:27-28. 
 
 •Matt. 6:1-18. ^oMatt. 20:1-15. 
 
6 CHAOS OR COSMOS? 
 
 food," of health/^ of life/^ of character,^* of wis- 
 dom. ^^ The test of living is life.^^ Spirit is vastly more 
 important than body.^*^ The only death with which Jesus 
 is specially concerned is the loss of character. ^^ Life will 
 go right on without a break/ ^ future existence being an 
 emancipation of man^s spirit from the limitations which 
 the body imposes. ^^ 
 
 For Jesus, the kingdom or rule of God is not merely a 
 hope and an ideal, but a present reality. It is at hand,^^ 
 actually among men.^*^ People are pressing into it.^^ The 
 Kingdom is the world's harvest field,^^ the seed of the 
 future,^^ the thing of greatest present value,^^ the first 
 claim on a man's interest.^^ Already it belongs to the 
 receptive in spirit, and to those who have suffered for the 
 great cause. ^^ Jesus recognizes the weaknesses and fail- 
 ures of humanity, in the world as we find it.^^ But his 
 vision of the rule of God already begun, his confidence in 
 its future triumph,^^ has made him the great optimist of 
 history. We find denunciation and plain speaking, on 
 occasion, but no trace of cynicism, or of the censoriousness 
 that so often characterizes the reformer. 
 
 "Matt. 6:11; Mk. 6:41. 
 "Mk. 9:29. 
 
 »Jn.* 10:10; 5:40; 14:19. 
 "Matt. 6:13. 
 ^''Matt. 10:19-20. 
 "Matt. 7:15-27. 
 
 "Matt: 4:4; 6:25; Lu. 12:15; Jn. 3:6. 
 "Matt. 10:28; Jn. 6:63. 
 
 "Mk. 12:26-27; Jn. 5:24; 8:51; 14:1-3; 11:23-26, a striking 
 contrast with the current Jewish view of resurrection. 
 »Mk. 12:24-25. 
 «Mk. 1:15; Lu. 10:11. 
 "Lu. 17:20-21; Matt. 12:28; 11:11. 
 »Lu. 16:16; Matt. 11:12. 
 «Matt. 13:37-38. 
 "Matt. 13:31-32; Mk. 4:26-29. 
 "•Matt. 13:44-46. 
 "Matt. 6:33. 
 *Matt. 5:3, 10. 
 »Matt. 13:18-30; Lu. 17:1. 
 ••Mk. 9:1; Matt. 26:29; Lu. 10:17-18; 21:27-28. 
 
PKELIMmAEY: JESUS^ VIEW OP UNIVERSE 7 
 
 With Jesus' sense of God's real presence, goes a joy in 
 living, an appreciation of wholesome physical pleasure, a 
 love of social fellowship, a breadth and fulness of life, 
 which remind us of the Greek religion at its best. Such 
 an attitude is like a burst of sunlight, by contrast with 
 the austerity of John the Baptist, or the cold formalism 
 of the average scribe. ^^ Asceticism appears out of place 
 in Christ's religion. ^^ He recognizes scholarship, and 
 endorses the search for truth. ^^ He shows the true gentle- 
 man's regard for proper conventions.^^ This genial temper 
 made Jesus welcome with people of all classes. Combined 
 with his self -forgetful service, it brought him a personal 
 popularity that often proved embarrassing.^^ 
 
 2. Creation is incomplete. The Divine Universe is a 
 thing of slow hut certain growth. This idea of develop- 
 ment is suggested by Jesus in a number of passages. He 
 himself applies it in fulfilling, that is spiritualizing, the 
 Mosaic code.^^ Christianity is a new garment, not a mere 
 patching of the old.^'' The Kingdom of God is like yeast, 
 like the mustard seed,^^ the growing wheat. ^^ To him that 
 hath will be given.^^ God's spiritual order increases like 
 
 money well invested ; ^^ it represents a gradual achieve- 
 ment.*2 
 
 3. This unfolding Universe taJces its character from 
 *God.^^ Jesus represents and reveals Eim,^^ We are left 
 
 "Matt. 11:16-19; Jn. 10:10; 16:11. 
 
 '"Matt. 9:14-15; 6:16-18. 
 
 "Matt. 13:52; Jn. 16:12-13; 8:32. 
 
 "Lu. 7:36-50; dress, Jn. 19:23; church dues, Matt. 17:24-27. 
 Contrast with fasting, Lu. 5:33-39; ablution, Mk. 7:1-23; Sabbath, 
 Mk. 2:23-3:6. 
 
 ^ITk. 2:15;" 12:37; 5:24; 1:36-38; Jn. 12:12-19; 6:15. 
 
 "Matt. 5:21-37; 19:8. 
 
 "Mk. 2:21. Cf. Matt. 11:11. 
 
 "Matt. 13:31-33. 
 
 » Mk. 4 : 26-29 ; Jn. 12 : 24 ; Matt. 13 : 3-9, 24-30. 
 
 ^Mk. 4:25. 
 
 «Matt. 25:14-30; Lu. 19:12-27. 
 
 «Matt. 6:10; Lu. 10:9; 11:20. 
 
 *»Matt. 6:25-33. 
 
 **Matt. 10:32-33, 40; Lu, 10:22; Mk. 9:37; Jn. 6:17-47; 14:9. 
 
8 CHAOS OR COSMOS? 
 
 with a very definite picture of the moral order in the 
 world. 
 
 God is on the side of integrity."*^ Those who hunger 
 and thirst for righteousness will be satisfied.*^ Purity of 
 thought is the door to God.*^ He stands for justice,*^ for 
 fidelity,^^ for courage,^® for self-control,^^ for honorable 
 peace, ^^ for consideration.^^ 
 
 The heavenly Father loves, and expects love in return.'** 
 God is not a Despot, but the daily, hourly servant of 
 humanity.^^ He shows special interest in childhood.^® He 
 sympathizes with hunger,^'' with exhausting labor, ^^ with 
 poverty, ^^ with worry and fear.^^ God has compassion 
 on the ignorant and unorganized,^^ on the sick,^^ the 
 handicapped,^^ the sorrowing,^* the sinful.^^ In fact He 
 identifies Himself with human weakness and need.®^ God 
 yearns to save.^^ He expects men to share His sacrifice.^^ 
 Good deeds are an advertisement of the Divine order in 
 the world.«9 
 
 God's world is essentially social. Jesus' hope is that 
 
 «Matt. 5:17-20, 48 j 21:12-13. 
 
 -Matt. 6:6. 
 
 «Matt. 5:8, 27-32. 
 
 «Mk. 7:6-13; Matt. 5:23-24; 23:1-36. 
 
 ^Lu. 12:35-48; Matt. 25:21. 
 
 "Matt. 5:10-12; 10:22, 38. 
 
 *^Matt. 6:21-22. 
 
 "Matt. 6:9, 25-26. 
 
 "Matt. 5:7; 6:14-15; Lu. 6:36. 
 
 "Matt. 22:37-38; Jn. 14:21. 
 
 "Matt. 5:44-45; 6:25-33; 7:7-11; Lu. 22:24-27. 
 
 "Lu. 18:15-17; 17:2; Matt. 18:10, 14. 
 
 "Mk. 8:2; Matt. 25:35. 
 
 "Matt. 11:28-30. Cf. Mk. 6:3; Jn. 5:17. 
 
 "Lu. 6:20; Matt. 11:5; 25:36. 
 
 "Matt. 6:25-34; Lu. 12:4-7; Jn. 14:27. 
 
 «Matt. 9:36. 
 
 "Mk. 5:22-34; Matt. 25:36. 
 
 "Jn. 9:1-39; Matt. 9:27-30. 
 
 "Matt. 5:4; Lu. 7:13; Jn. 11:33-36. 
 
 "Matt. 9:10-13; Lu. 7:47-50. 
 
 "Mk. 9:37; Matt. 25:45. 
 
 "Lu. 15:1-32. 
 
 "Matt. 16:24; Jn. 12:25-26. 
 
 •Matt. 6:13-16. 
 
PJRELIMIISrARY: JESUS^ VIEW OF UNIVERSE 9 
 
 men may be united with one another and with God.''^ The 
 model prayer is addressed to "our Father," not "my 
 Father." This term itself is full of social suggestion. The 
 sins with which Jesus is specially concerned are those that 
 tend to break up the Divine family: hatred, lust, pride, 
 covetousness, censoriousness, bad influence, selfishness, in- 
 justice. ''^ The "unpardonable sin" is shown by the con- 
 text to be the denial of the spirit of service.''^ God's pro- 
 gram for the world is a social program.''^ The term "King- 
 dom of God" occurs over a hundred times in the gospels, 
 including parallels. Jesus' use of the phrase suggests a 
 republic rather than an absolute monarchy.*^* Religious 
 institutions are of value to the Father in proportion to 
 their value for man.*^^ 
 
 God's interest, however, is in the individual and not the 
 mass.'^^ Salvation is no national or racial reunion."^^ He 
 feels as the shepherd does toward the one lost sheep out 
 of the flock of a hundred, or the housewife toward the single 
 coin."^^ The very hairs of our head are numbered.''^ The 
 human soul outweighs the whole material world.^° One 
 little child may represent God, as the object of our serv- 
 ice. ^^ The individual will persist after the death of the 
 body.^^ This emphasis in Jesus' teaching corresponds 
 with his own case method. One of the Master's great 
 achievements was his valuation of the individual, not 
 merely as a social unit, but for his own sake, as a child 
 of God. 
 
 "Jn. 14:15-20; 17:11, 23. 
 
 "See Matt. 5:21-48; 18:1-9; 23:1-36; 25:31-46. 
 
 "Matt. 12:22-32. 
 
 "Lu. 4:16-21; 7:18-23. 
 
 "Matt. 17:24-26. 
 
 " Mk. 2 : 27-28 ; Matt. 12 : 1-8. 
 
 "Matt. 18:5-6, 12-14. 
 
 "Matt. 8:10-12; Jn. 8:33-44. 
 
 "Lu. 15:1-10. 
 
 "Matt. 10:29-31. 
 
 »Matt. 12:12; vl6: 26. 
 
 «Matt. 10:42; 18:5; 25:40. 
 
 "Jn. 5:28-29. Cf, Lu. 16:19-31. 
 
10 CHAOS OR COSMOS? 
 
 4. The completion of the world requires the cooperation 
 of the Father and His human sons. At one end of this 
 relation, fruitful living demands close touch with God.^^ 
 Human intelligence depends on God-given intuition.^* He 
 is the source of all possessions and endowments.^^ It is 
 God's Spirit which must change the unsocial man into a 
 good man.^^ 
 
 On the other hand, human activity and enterprise are 
 essential.^ "^ Deeds are the road to truth, to love, to sta- 
 bility of character.^ ^ Jesus makes the disciples partners 
 in his program.^^ He shares to some degree his remark- 
 able control over natural forces,^^ and over the human 
 body.^^ Faith on the part of the patient is a condition of 
 Divine healing.^^ It is the attitude of trust which gives 
 free access to God's riches and power.^^ Practical social 
 service is expected of every man, in the course of the day's 
 work.^* The realization of God's rule is wrapped up with 
 such human endeavors. ^^ Workmen are encouraged to 
 yoke up with God.^® 
 
 Providence is cooperative. The man bom blind is not 
 a case of kismet; he was not being punished for his sins 
 or those of his parents. His blindness was there to be 
 cured. It was a defect in God's world which God was 
 eager to see remedied. ^"^ An accident calls for repentance 
 on the part of the community.^^ Increased food supply 
 
 "Jn. 15:1-8. 
 
 "Mk. 13:11; Jn. 16:7-13. 
 
 "Matt. 6:33; 25:14-30. 
 
 »Jn. 3:3-5; Matt. 12:32-35. 
 
 •"Matt. 7:7-8. 
 
 "Jn. 7:17; 14:21; Matt. 7:21-27. 
 
 "Jn. 17:18; Matt. 28:18-20. 
 
 •»Mk. 11:20-23; Jn. 14:12; Lu. 10:19. 
 
 "Matt. 10:1, 8; Lu. 10:9. 
 
 •"Matt. 9:22, 29, etc. 
 
 "Matt. 6:25, 33; Mk. 11:22-24. 
 
 ••Matt. 25:31-46; Lu. 10:25-37; Matt. 10:42. 
 
 "Matt. 6:10; 10:7-8. 
 
 "Matt. 11:28-30. 
 
 •» Jn. 9:1-5. 
 
 "Lu. 13:1-5. 
 
PEELIMINAEY: JESUS' VIEW OF UNIVERSE 11 
 
 requires human cooperation.^^ Man has a part in for- 
 giveness/^^ in sweetening human relations.^ ^^ Marriage 
 is a sacred relationship, to be shared by all who are able 
 to share it. The alternative is absolute control over sexual 
 instincts and imaginations.^ ^^ Men will be held respon- 
 sible for wrong moral conditions, particularly in the case 
 of the young. ^^^ 
 
 Prayer is the recognition of this partnership between 
 man and God in the making of a world. "Our Father, 
 may Thy Kingdom come; may Thy will be done, Thy 
 plans followed, by me and by my brother men." ^^* We 
 do not need to secure God's attention or influence His 
 ^jjjios Prayer is not to give God information. The 
 Father is so close to us that He knows what things we 
 have need of before we ask Him. He wishes us to ask, 
 because asking is a proof of our interest.-'^^^ To pray for 
 other persons means sharing His attitude toward those 
 persons. ^^^ The communion with God in prayer is direct 
 and personal.^ ^^ It is the cooperation of two harmonious 
 wills. When our plans coincide with His, there is no 
 limit to the possibilities of prayer. Whatever we ask in 
 Christ's name, that is in his spirit, we shall receive. ^^^ 
 
 5. Because of the character of the Universe and the 
 solidarity of human society, it pays to he brotherly and 
 filial. 
 
 No man lives to himself alone. Even our daily speech 
 has eternal consequences. ^^^ The world owes its preserva- 
 
 "'Mk. 6:37-38; Jn. 6:8-9; Lu. 5:4-7. 
 *«»Mk. 11:25; Matt. 18:15-18; Jn. 20:21-23. 
 i*«Matt. 5:38-48. 
 
 ^'^Matt. 19:3-12; Mk. 10:2-12; Matt. 5:27-32, 8. 
 "»Matt. 18:7-14. 
 *'**Matt. 6:9-10. 
 ^''^Matt. 6:7. 
 
 ^~ Matt." 6 :'8 ; 7:7-11; Lu. 18 : 1-8. 
 ^•"Matt. 5:44-45; Lu. 23:34. 
 
 ^"'Matt. 6:6; Lu. 18:9-14. Compare Jesus' own prayers, as given 
 in Matt. 11:25-26; Lu. 22:42; 23:34, 46. 
 ^~Mk. 11:24-25; Jn. 14:13; 15:7. 
 ""Matt. 12:33-37. 
 
12 CHAOS OR COSMOS? 
 
 tion and its light, or the opposite, to our influence.* ^^ 
 Actions return to us in kind.**^ Mercy and forgiveness 
 are reciprocal.**^ What affects one affects all. Each child 
 of the common Father is taught to pray : Give us this day 
 our daily bread; not. Give me this day my daily bread. 
 "Not simply, Forgive me my sins, the debts I have not 
 paid; but, Forgive us our sins, the sins of our common 
 humanity the world over, which weaken and impoverish 
 us all. Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from 
 evil."* 
 
 Jesus advocates what might be termed the higher 
 selfishness. The great law of human relations is that you 
 should feel toward your neighbor and his interests as you 
 do toward yourself and your own interests, that you 
 should change places with him, in imagination, and treat 
 him as you would have him treat you.**^ Hatred is 
 damning.**^ We are to love our neighbors as ourselves.**'' 
 And to love one's neighbor is simply to make his welfare 
 a common concern.*** To find our life we must lose it.**^ 
 The way to receive is not to grasp but to give. Because 
 to give is to secure the goodwill of those around you, and 
 this in turn will lead to practical and substantial ex- 
 pressions of goodwill.*^^ 
 
 Jesus teaches the folly of revenge. You never will over- 
 come evil, he says, by further evil, blow for blow, injus- 
 tice for injustice. You only make matters worse. You 
 pile two evils on the back of the community instead of 
 one, take a second angry man out of the ranks of ef- 
 ficiency. To submit to a blow or a personal injustice is 
 
 ^Matt. 5:13-16; Lu. 11:33-36. Cf, Matt. 18:7-14. 
 
 «"Matt. 7:1-5; Lu. 6:37-38. 
 
 "'Matt. 5:7; 6:14-15; 18:21-35. 
 
 "*Matt. 6:9-13; Lu. 11:1-4. 
 
 >«Matt. 7:12-14; Lu. 6:31. 
 
 "«Matt. 5:21-22. 
 
 "'Matt. 22:39; Jn. 13:34-35. 
 
 ""Lu. 10:25-37. 
 
 ""Matt. 10:39. 
 
 ^Lu. 6:38.* Cf. Mk. 9:41; Matt. 6:31-33. 
 
PKELIMINARY: JESUS' VIEW- OF UNIVERSE 13 
 
 often better than to resist. There is less provocation for 
 further blows; there are fewer wounds to heal.^^^ The 
 only final remedy for wrong is to admit our enemy or our 
 rival into the order of goodwill. ^"^^ 
 
 The lust for wealth or power or display, for their own 
 sake, is out of place in God^s spiritual order. Pride is 
 ridiculous, to any one with a strong sense of humor.^^* 
 Covetousness is tragic.^^* A man's life does not consist 
 in the number of things which he owns.^^'^ The standard 
 of living may be raised so high that possession becomes a 
 burden. There are higher values, which cannot be stolen 
 or corroded or eaten by moths, and which may be pr^ 
 served without constant care and worry.^^^ Our heart 
 follows our investment. ^^"^ Jesus himself spurns the temp- 
 tation of easy money. -^^^ For the sake of freedom, he 
 practices the simple life,^^^ and commends it to others.^^** 
 Wealth is full of subtle temptations. ^^^ What does it 
 profit, to gain the whole world and lose your soul ? ^^^ A 
 divided allegiance is impossible; we cannot serve God and 
 Gold.^^^ Money may prove an impossible handicap, to 
 one seeking character, usefulness and happiness. ^^* 
 Human rights transcend the rights of property. ^^^ The 
 workman has a right to his wages,^^^ and the business man 
 to a reward for i^eoial ability and initiative. ^^''^ Inef- 
 ficiency is a disgrace. ^^^ But the sense of service rendered 
 transcends the pay.^^^ !N'o labor of man or woman need 
 be mere drudgery. ^**^ Fidelity should be a by-product of 
 
 ^Lu. 6:29-30; Matt. 5:38-42, 21-26. 
 
 "2 Matt. 5:43-48; Lu. 6:27-36. 
 
 "3 Matt. 6:2, 16, undoubtedly exaggeration. 
 
 "*Lu. 12:13-21. 
 
 "»Lu. 12:15. »»Matt. 6:24. 
 
 "•Matt. 6:19-20. "*Mk. 10:17-25; Lu. 14:33. 
 
 "»Matt. 6:21. ««Lu. 8:26-37. 
 
 »» Matt. 4:8-11. "-Lu. 10:7. 
 
 «»Matt. 8:20. ^Matt. 25:14-23. 
 
 ""Lu. 10:40-42. ""Matt. 25:24-30. 
 
 >«Matt. 13:22. "»Lu. 17:7-10. 
 
 "»Mk. 8:36-37. ""Lu. 10:38-42. 
 
14 CHAOS OR COSMOS? 
 
 every business.^^^ All possession involves stewardship. ^^^ 
 The chief value of money is to make friends, not by cor- 
 rupting but by enriching the lives of others.^^^ Failure 
 to do this makes the rich man pitifully and hopelessly 
 poor.^** The most rewarding hospitality is shown to those 
 who can make no retum.^^^ 
 
 On the basis of brotherhood, Jesus teaches democracy 
 in human relations.^*^ The only aristocracy he recog- 
 nizes is the aristocracy of service. ^^"^ It is those who are 
 modest, and therefore teachable, who have the key to a 
 Kingdom.^*® The honor that comes 'to men is in inverse 
 ratio to their pride. ^^^ Jesus raises woman to a new plane 
 of equality and courtesy.^ ^^ The Kingdom of God is to 
 be world-wide.^^^ Race hatred finds no place with a Jew 
 who makes a Samaritan the hero of one of his stories. -^^^ 
 Caste is equally foreign to his teaching and practice. ^^^ 
 The most menial task may be made a sacrament. ^^^ Hu- 
 man brotherhood transcends the bonds of blood.^^^ 
 Through sacrifice for humanity, one is initiated into a 
 freemasonry of brotherhood, with its own privileges and 
 compensations. "There is no man who has left house, or 
 brothers, or sisters, or mother, or father, or children, or 
 lands, for the sake of the great cause, but will receive a 
 hundredfold, even now in the present life — houses, and 
 brothers, and sisters, and mothers, and children, and 
 
 ^"Lu. 16:10-12. 
 
 »«Lu. 12:47-48. 
 
 *«Lu. 16:1-9. Cf. ministry of beauty, Matt. 26:6-13. 
 
 *«Lu. 12:16-21; 16:19-31. 
 
 »«Lu. 14:12-14; Matt. 5:46-47. 
 
 *«Matt. 23:8-11. 
 
 "'Mk. 10:42-45; Lu. 7:28. 
 
 *«Matt. 5:3; 18:1-4. 
 
 ^••Matt. 23:12; Mk. 9:35; 10:31; Lu. 14:7-11. 
 
 "»Jn. 4:27; 19:26-27; Lu. 10:38-42. 
 
 "*Lu. 13:29; Matt. 28:19; Jn. 12:32. 
 
 «»Lu. 10:33. Cf. Jn. 4:9; Matt. 8:5-13. 
 
 -Matt. 9:10-11; Lu. 19:5-7; 14:12-14. 
 
 "•Jn. 13:1-15. 
 
 "•Mk. 3:31-35. Cf. Matt. 10:37. 
 
PKELIMINARY: JESUS' VIEWi OF UNIVEESE 15 
 
 lands." ^^® "Happy are the gentle-men, for they will in- 
 herit the earth." ^^^ That is, God's world eventually will 
 come into possession, not of the bully but of the courteous 
 man, who, with all his ability to see opportunities and his 
 shrewdness in grasping them,^^^ is considerate of others' 
 rights and interested in others' welfare. The unsocial 
 man is excluded from God's family as abnormal ; in fact 
 he excludes himself. -^^^ The same doom is pronounced 
 on the unsocial nation. ^^® Service is the inexorable test, 
 which spells destruction to those who fail to meet it.^*^ 
 Here is a theory of human relations that is simple, com- 
 prehensive, self -consistent, and eminently practical. Has 
 Jesus given a correct solution of the riddle of the Uni- 
 verse? Does his interpretation square with the world as 
 we know? Will the theory work? That is the question 
 before us. I propose to use Christianity as a working 
 hypothesis. 
 
 ^'"Mk. 10:28-30. Cf. Rom. 16:13, "his mother and mine." 
 
 "'Matt. 5:5. 
 
 "•Matt! 25:14-30; Lu. 19:12-26. 
 
 "•Matt. 22:11-13; 18:17; 25:30, 46. 
 
 "*'Matt. 21:33-43; Lu. 13:29-30. 
 
 ^Lu. 20:9-18; Matt. 7:24-27. 
 
PART I 
 THE EXTEENAL UNIVERSE 
 
PAET I. 
 
 THE EXTEENAL UOTVERSE. 
 
 II. 
 
 THE PASSING OF PHYSICAL MATEEIAIilSM. 
 
 Jesus' spiritualistic philosophy meets its first test as it 
 faces the problem of the external world. Modern Astrono- 
 my has immensely expanded the physical Universe in 
 which man's life is spent. Our great solar system, with 
 its planets in orderly rotation and revolution, is but the 
 vestibule. A billion other suns are distributed through a 
 space so vast that we reckon distance not by miles but by 
 light years. The light from the more distant stars re- 
 quires more than 200,000 years to reach us. Telescope 
 and spectroscope reveal the cyclic changes through which 
 these stars are passing, and have been passing for we know 
 not how many million years. 
 
 Of this newly discovered world of Astronomy, I shall 
 speak more at length in a later chapter. Suffice it to note 
 here that the physical Universe is one inter-related whole. 
 Suns and satellites, clusters and spirals, nebulae and star 
 dust, are embraced in a single system. Everywhere we 
 find the same forces of gravity and radiation pressure. 
 The rays of heat shot out from one unit, in time reach 
 and act upon the other units. The same chemical elements 
 found on our earth have been detected in the stars. Solids 
 and gases everywhere follow the same laws of behavior. 
 
 What is the nature of this physical Universe, this vast 
 Mechanism with which man is so closely connected ? Jesus 
 
 19 
 
20 CHAOS OR COSMOS? 
 
 claimed that it is spiritual, dynamic, the vesture and mani- 
 festation of the living and ever present God. Opposed 
 to this is the philosophy of Materialism, which grew up 
 out of the advance in physical Science. Matter itself is 
 the ultimate reality. The Universe is merely an infinite 
 congeries of atoms, unchanging in quantity, constantly 
 entering on new arrangements within a semi-material 
 Space or ^ther, under stress of an Energy which is re- 
 distributed but never altered. 
 
 As thus stated, the two theories are mutually contradic- 
 tory. But it is possible to bring them onto a common 
 plane. A pure atomism is not held today by any leading 
 scientific thinker. The uniformity of ^Nature, the causal 
 nexus between all phenomena, the laws of conservation — 
 have compelled us to regard the world as a unity. Jesus 
 likewise thinks of the world as a whole. Throughout it 
 reveals the activity and expresses the character of God. 
 Thus Christianity and Science speak of the same 
 "Universe," although in different terms. The question 
 at issue is this: is Matter material, or is it essentially 
 active, or dynamic ? 
 
 Except for the strain on the imagination, the philosophi- 
 cal problem before us is not affected by the great extension 
 in space and time. The study which will give us the 
 nature of Matter must be intensive. To understand the 
 ultimate structure of a grain of sand or a cubic inch of 
 air, the forces at work and their interaction, is to know 
 the physical Universe in its totality. 
 
 The most important event in recent Thought is the 
 passing of Materialism, as a philosophy based on scien- 
 tific induction. The age-long problem of Matter has been 
 attacked, and in a measure solved. Modem Physics has 
 taken a position which is entirely consistent with Jesus' 
 theory of a spiritual Universe.^ 
 
 *A more detailed study of the new Physics will be found in my 
 Unfolding Universe, 1915, chaps. 3 to 5. The best introduction for 
 the general reader is R. A. Millikan, The Electron, 1917, with full 
 
PASSING OF PHYSICAL MATERIALISM 21 
 
 Materialism was done to death, not by the cloistered 
 student, spinning a web of idealism from his own brain; 
 not by the militant theologian, turning his blind eye to 
 the facts of Science, that he might fight on ignorant and 
 undaunted. The materialistic doctrine, so often put forth 
 in the name of Science, was destroyed through the further 
 study of the scientists themselves. 
 
 Sir William Crookes began it, in 1870. He had been 
 studying the new cathode rays, formed by passing elec- 
 tricity through a vacuum tube. He made the discovery 
 that the rays consist of minute particles, carrying a nega- 
 tive electric charge. Twenty years later these particles, or 
 electrons, were studied more closely by Professor J. J. 
 Thomson of Cambridge, and others. A series of experi- 
 ments, as brilliant as any in the history of Science, yielded 
 the discoveries which are revolutionizing both Physics and 
 Philosophy. We learned that electrons are the units of 
 the electric current. All flow of electricity, from the flash 
 of lightning to the power generated by turbines and passed 
 through the filament of our electric lamp, is a stream of 
 these tiny particles. We learned further that the solid 
 atom, hitherto the unit of Matter, is composed of elec- 
 trons, and of particles bearing an equivalent positive 
 charge. The units of Electricity are the units of matter : 
 the basis of the air we breathe, of the floor we walk on, of 
 our flesh and bone and blood and brain. 
 
 Just before the close of the century came the discovery 
 of radium, and of other radioactive substances. Here a 
 
 references. See also J. S. Ames, Constitution of Matter, 1913; 
 Comstock and Troland, Nature of Matter and Electricity, 1919; 
 Norman R. Campbell, Modern Electrical Theory, 2nd ed., 1913; 
 H. A. Lorentz, Theory of Electrons, 1909; O. W. Richardson, 
 Electron Theory of Matter, 1914. For the earlier Relativity theory, 
 R. C. Tolman, Theory of the Relativ. of Motion, 1917. For the 
 generalized theory, the excellent popular summary by Albert Ein- 
 stein himself, Eng. trans, by R. W. Lawson, 1920; J. Malcolm 
 Bird, etc., Einstein's Theories of Relativ. and Gravitation, Scientific 
 American, 1921; and A. S. Eddington, Relativ. Theory of Oravitor 
 tion, London Physical Society, 1918. (I prefer this to his Space, 
 Time and Gravitation, 1920.) 
 
22 CHAOS OR COSMOS? 
 
 complex atom is in process of breaking down. As it does 
 so, it shoots forth electrons at enormous velocities. Kauf- 
 mann and Biicherer gave Materialism its mortal wound 
 when they proved that the swiftly moving electron has a 
 larger mass than the electron which is moving with com- 
 parative slowness, as in the cathode ray. That is, part of 
 its mass is not material at all. The inertia of the electron, 
 the apparent solidity of this minute physical body which 
 lies at the basis of all physical bodies, is largely due to its 
 motion, or to the opposing forces set up by its motion. 
 
 Later researches have indicated that all the mass of the 
 electron is electrical in origin. Physicists find that the 
 connection between mass and velocity is what would be 
 expected, if the entire mass is due to the electric charge. 
 To lose its energy would be to lose its mass. The electron 
 is not a solid particle, as was at first supposed, but a point 
 or region where a definite electric charge is concentrated. 
 The same is probably true of the corresponding unit of 
 positive electricity, very much larger in size, but by no 
 means as well known.. To consider the positive units as 
 other than electrical, is to introduce what Lorentz calls 
 an unnecessary dualism. The working hypothesis of 
 present-day Physics is that "matter is of an electrical 
 nature, and the forces of cohesion between the particles, 
 which give a solid its rigidity, are electrical forces." ^ 
 As another writer puts it, all the properties of matter may 
 be explained as the "statistical result of the behavior of 
 the individual electrons.'' ^ Much work remains to be 
 done in tracing these relations and behavior. The absorb- 
 ing problem of theoretical Physics is that of the arrange- 
 ment of electrons within the atom, and its connection with 
 the radiation of light. But the entire viewpoint has 
 changed. The physical world is not composed, as we used 
 to think, of solid atoms, little pellets of stuff, moving about 
 in groups in an elastic medium known as the -^ther. It 
 
 *A. S. Eddington, Nature, 101, p. 15, 1918. 
 
 ■R. C. Tolman, Relativity of Motion, 1917, 15. 
 
PASSING OF PHYSICAL MATERIALISM 23 
 
 is now thought of as made up of centers of electric force, 
 positive and negative, acting upon each other, and keeping 
 one another in incessant motion. 
 
 To one accustomed to thinking in terms of an atomic 
 theory, the electrical view of Matter comes as a relief and 
 not as a burden. The dead stuff of a purely physical 
 universe, however Idealism might seek to ignore it, was 
 something of which neither Idealism nor Materialism 
 could give a satisfactory explanation. It remained an 
 irreducible surd in any equation of reality. The New 
 Physics gives us a dynamic Universe. Electron units are 
 active and not merely passive. If any one doubts whether 
 they are active, let him touch a wire along which a stream 
 of them is passing. And a Universe made up of such 
 "live" units is, to some degree at least, self-sufficient and 
 self-explanatory. 
 
 Then came the doctrine of Kelativity to give Material- 
 ism the stroke of mercy. We must give up even the idea 
 of a fixed medium for physical units. There is good 
 reason for believing that the earth is moving around the 
 sun at a rate of about 20 miles a second. Kepeated at- 
 tempts have been made to detect this motion, with refer- 
 ence to a surrounding ^ther, but absolutely without re- 
 sult. Einstein therefore rejected the idea of any fixed 
 frame of reference. The only motion which can be de- 
 tected is motion of one body relative to another. No such 
 thing as absolute motion is known to us. If an observer 
 and the body whose velocity he is trying to measure are 
 moving uniformly, each has its own space and time. 
 There is no way of directly comparing one system of space 
 and time with another. All we can do is to make a mathe- 
 matical transformation of two sets of space-time coordi- 
 nates. If there are some of my readers who have not even 
 a bowing acquaintance with coordinates, I would state 
 that they are ^e imaginary linesmen stationed along the 
 field to mark the position of the ball on successive downs. 
 Where we have two balls, we must have two sets of lines- 
 
24 CHAOS OE COSMOS? 
 
 men. By the use of this system it is possible for the 
 mathematical sportsman to follow the games which are 
 being played all over the country. The laws of E'ature, 
 which are given us by our study of Mechanics and Dy- 
 namics, may be stated independently of the observer's 
 particular scheme of space and time. 
 
 Kecently Einstein has generalized his principle to cover 
 all types of motion. The deflection caused by a field of 
 force, for example gravitation, means the introduction of 
 a new space and time for the deflected body. The deflec- 
 tion is represented by another series of space-time coordi- 
 nates, similar to that introduced for uniform motion. We 
 follow the game, as before, through the reports of imagi- 
 nary linesmen, and it appears to be played in the same 
 way. A man falling from a roof would, during his de- 
 scent, be constructing a new series of space-times, and 
 might not know he had been falling, except for the forces 
 of cohesion in the material which stopped his motion. 
 Einstein's principle was suggested by a case of this sort 
 which came under .his observation. 
 
 The new theory was able to explain the puzzling dis- 
 crepancy in the advance of Mercury's orbit. A second 
 crucial test was the prediction that the light from the 
 stars, when passing near the sun, would receive a certain 
 amount of deflection through the sun's gravitational attrac- 
 tion. This was brilliantly confirmed by the eclipse expedi- 
 tions of 1919. 
 
 Momentous consequences follow from this doctrine of 
 Eelativity. That bulwark of Thought, the Newtonian 
 Mechanics, with its assumptions of a fixed and unvarying 
 space, time, mass, etc., is being thrown overboard piece by 
 piece. Mass is equivalent to energy, and increases with 
 velocity. "Space and time in themselves," as Minkowski 
 said, "vanish to shadows, and only a kind of union of the 
 two preserves an independent existence." The ^ther 
 itself, the hypothetical medium for the action of forces, is 
 discarded as being merely a scientific fiction, which ere- 
 
PASSING OF PHYSICAL MATERIALISM 25 
 
 ates more difficulties than it explains. Or else we rele- 
 gate it to be the mythical abode of Lodge's disembodied 
 spirits. We are no longer troubled about action across 
 empty space, because we have ceased to talk about a space 
 "in which" things move. 
 
 As a picture of reality, the Geometry of Euclid must 
 go the way of the Newtonian Mechanics. Even while you 
 are representing your objects as cubes and polyhedrons 
 and spheres, the electrons which compose the world have 
 taken a thousand other arrangements. There is no me- 
 dium to retain the form of any of them. We are obliged 
 to construct space by means of moving points and lines, 
 instead of cutting up a space already made. As Sommer- 
 ville puts it, space and matter are inextricably entangled. 
 It is necessary to "build up a monistic theory of the physi- 
 cal world in terms of a single set of entities, material 
 points, conceived as altering their relations with time." * 
 
 Trained as we have been in the old way of thinking, it 
 is not easy to adjust our thought to a physical universe, 
 whose component parts are constantly changing their rela- 
 tions, and with no material substratum whatever. Our 
 minds grow dizzy. We long for the old world of reality, 
 which appeared to stand still whenever we wanted to ob- 
 serve it. But an adjustment to the "moving continuity" 
 of the new conception is by no means impossible. Our 
 thought soon grows accustomed to the unceasing move- 
 ment. We come to regard reality as a flow, however it 
 may be necessary for the intellect, as Bergson says, to 
 arrest this flow, and represent it as a series of fixed states, 
 like the separate pictures of a cinematograph film. 
 
 When the modern Kip van Winkle, after a long sleep, 
 returns to the study of Physics, he finds himself in a new 
 world. That world is no longer "material." Pellets of 
 stuff, aether medium, fluid space, alike have vanished. 
 The fundamental fact is these electric charges, with their 
 
 *D. M. Y. Sommerville, El&ment» of Non-Euolidean Geom., 1914, 
 201. 
 
26 CHAOS OR COSMOS? 
 
 properties, their motions, their interactions, their rela- 
 tions and sequences. A mechanical arrangement of pas- 
 sive units has given place to a dynamic Universe. Matter 
 has not disappeared; it cannot be ignored. But it is 
 being stated in terms of Force or Energy.^ 
 
 This revolution of thought tends to close the gap be- 
 tween Physics and Biology. The organic loses its excep- 
 tional character. The appearance of life on this planet 
 ceases to demand a special creative fiat. More and more 
 the phenomena of Life are being stated in terms of chem- 
 istry. We are able to modify organic processes by chang- 
 ing the surrounding medium. Biologists confidently ex- 
 pect to produce in the laboratory some of the syntheses of 
 physical particles on which the life of the cell depends. 
 What does all this mean ? That Materialism has won the 
 day? Some such fear has haunted many a Christian 
 man in our generation. But physical particles themselves 
 are no longer "material." They are centers of electrical 
 concentration, parts of that unity of interacting centers 
 which we know as the Universe. The mechanist, work- 
 ing forward from the new arrangement of atoms which 
 is characteristic of the organism, and the vitalist, working 
 backward from the behavior of living creatures, find a 
 possible meeting ground in this conception of a world of 
 forces and force-centers, which forms the common basis of 
 Matter and Life. It is not difficult to conceive of an elec- 
 trical atom and a living cell as belonging to the same 
 family. A new grouping of forces may be expected to 
 show new properties, as, to quote an analogy from T. H. 
 Morgan, the properties of sugar differ entirely from the 
 sum of the properties of carbon, hydrogen and oxygen. 
 
 ■What Force is in itself, as represented by the deflections asso- 
 ciated with an electric charge, is still a matter of debate in the 
 scientific world. To Eddington, for example, both matter and energy 
 are the expression of world curvature. They are part of our per- 
 ception that such curvature exists. {Space, Time and Gravitation, 
 1920, 92.) Rather than enter on this doubtful region of meta- 
 physics, I prefer to leave "force" and "dynamic universe" as unde- 
 fined terms given us by our observation of the world. 
 
PASSING OF PHYSICAL MATEEIALISM 27 
 
 The same is true of that higher, more specialized form 
 of life which we call Mind. The human mind uses an 
 elaborate machinery of brain and nerve cells, which itself 
 has helped to organize, and on which its activities depend 
 to a large degree. Mental states are closely correlated 
 with cerebral states. Damage to the brain affects the 
 mind. The destruction of certain centers in the left brain 
 of a right-handed person, means the loss of word-hearing, 
 or of word-seeing, or of word-speaking. But this does not 
 mean that the mind is material, or dependent on what is 
 material. There is no longer any such thing as the ma- 
 terial, in the old sense. The phenomena all come within 
 the field of energetics. The Universe appears to us not 
 only in the comparatively simple groupings of electrons 
 which we find in inorganic chemistry, but in the elaborate 
 molecules which go to make up living cells. These cells 
 in turn, when grouped as organisms, and specialized in 
 brain and nerve cells, reveal properties and powers in the 
 Universe, of which the student of the inorganic world 
 knows nothing. Of necessity the physiologist will empha- 
 size the processes of the brain. The psychologist concen- 
 trates his attention on its properties. But the electron 
 and the albumin molecule, the living cell and the human 
 mind, the neurones of the cerebral hemispheres and the 
 scientist who directs or inhibits them, all fijid their place 
 in a dynamic Universe. 
 
 Still another gulf has been bridged, between Science 
 and Keligion. A physical Universe of this character, 
 linked as it is with organisms and brain cells, fits into the 
 Christian interpretation of the world. The idea of God 
 will need to be reformulated. But recent Physics and 
 Jesus' conception of God's activity in I^Tature constitute a 
 mutual approach. They meet in a new and comprehensive 
 unity, which calls for another chapter. 
 
IIL 
 
 GOD RESTATED. 
 
 The passing of physical materialism hreaks the spell of 
 Divine aloofness which Augustine and Aquinas laid upon 
 Christian thought. The Middle Ages passed on to modem 
 Europe a dualism quite similar to that of the Pharisees 
 — God and His creation, Heaven and Earth, Spirit and 
 Matter. Of the two parts of this inheritance, it was the 
 material world which Europe was beginning to study by 
 the new inductive method. One discovery followed an- 
 other. Growing knowledge brought an increasing mastery 
 of the world. Surplus human energies were engrossed by 
 scientific research, by manufacturing and trade. Religion 
 suffered in consequence. With the decay of religious faith 
 during the 18th and early 19th centuries, there came into 
 vogue the materialistic philosophy of the Universe to 
 which I referred in the last chapter. The spiritual realm 
 appeared so remote that men readily listened to the sug- 
 gestion that it was unreal. The effect was far reaching. 
 Two of the most powerful influences of modern times took 
 shape in this era. Science developed a materialistic tra- 
 dition, which was intensified by its conflict with current 
 Theology. Socialism was given its classic expression by 
 leaders who were under the spell of the same anti-clerical 
 and materialistic movement.^ 
 
 Jesus' idea of God's direct and universal activity had 
 been practically forgotten. As long as men conceived of 
 
 *See Andrew D. White, Hist, of the Warfare of Science with 
 Theology, 1903; W. Rauschenbusch, Christianizing the Social Order, 
 1912, 110. However idealistic the modern Socialist may be, he is 
 likely to be a materialist in the type of his thought. 
 
 28 
 
GOD RESTATED 29 
 
 the world as material, it was necessary to distinguish 
 sharply between God and the world. The two could not 
 be considered akin. The relation in which they stood was 
 that of Creator and creation. And here Christian think- 
 ing faced a dilemma. Either God made Matter out of 
 nothing, a feat which it was almost impossible for the 
 human mind to grasp. Or Matter had always existed, a 
 position that appeared to limit God. The Hebrew tradi- 
 tion, as embodied in the first chapter of Genesis, seems 
 to imply some permanent raw material which God worked 
 np in the course of creation. A third alternative was to 
 Inake Matter an idea or an illusion, which the practical 
 Western mind could not accept. 
 
 Scientific philosophy, as we have seen, concentrated its 
 attention on Matter, ignoring or denying a Creator. Re- 
 ligion, on what were for the most part valid grounds, con- 
 tinued to develop its doctrine of God. The result was 
 a Tower of Babel. These two branches of human thought 
 came to speak different languages. J^either could under- 
 stand what the other was trying to describe. The Chris- 
 tian charged the scientific man with denying God. The 
 latter regarded the Christian as an obscurantist, on whom 
 the accumulated knowledge of Science made no impression. 
 
 The effect of this dualism on Religion was equally 
 unfortunate. The material world, with which men have 
 so much to do, was constantly encroaching on the Divine. 
 Every youthful religion has thought of its god as present 
 and active in the world. As the religion grows older, the 
 divinity becomes less immanent and more transcendent. 
 The god who once took a hand in all the affairs of ^Nature 
 and of the community life, now intervenes only in special 
 crises. Once God's activity in the world was direct and 
 personal; now he works only through second causes or 
 through angels. Once he lived in the tree and the spring ; 
 he walked in the garden in the cool of the day. 'Now he 
 dwells in a distant heaven, august, inaccessible. Once he 
 was the intimate of man, his friend and ally, his guest at 
 
30 CHAOS OR COSMOS? 
 
 the sacrificial feast. Now lie sits on his throne, sur- 
 rounded by courtiers and menials, receiving as of right 
 the flattery and adoration of his earthly subjects. 
 
 To the average worshipper, at the beginning of the 20th 
 century, the world was real but God was unreal. God's 
 world had pushed God so far away that He appeared to 
 have little to do with our everyday life, ^o figure is 
 more pathetic than that of the sincere Christian of the 
 dualist school, opening his daily newspaper with the lurk- 
 ing fear that God has been disproved. 
 
 The situation was indeed alarming. Students of So- 
 ciety are beginning to recognize the importance of Re- 
 ligion as a factor in human development. I can only 
 indicate, in the briefest way, its biological significance. 
 In the- earliest cultural stages known to us, we find men 
 seeking to know and ada|>t themselves to their Environ- 
 ment. And this adjustment is largely mental. It takes 
 place in the region of ideas, emotions, values, attitudes. 
 The savage tries to escape from the evil powers which he 
 conceives to be back of the objects and activities of the 
 world around him, and to bind to himself the powers he 
 thinks of as beneficent. Crude as the process seems to 
 us, it was biologically sound and of very great practical 
 utility. We owe to it the beginnings of agriculture, ani- 
 mal husbandry and tEe arts. Human life took on dignity 
 and meaning. Adolescence and reproduction assumed a 
 mystical importance. Religious sanctions were the foun- 
 dation of morality, and made possible the solidarity of 
 the clan or tribe. However much the ideas and forms of 
 Religion have changed in the course of centuries, re- 
 ligious faith retains its essential character. Men still seek 
 to adjust themselves to the Universe, by value-judgments 
 and the establishing of personal contacts. We have noted 
 the tendency in the modem era to separate science and 
 the arts from their original dependence on religion. The 
 verdict of History is that this separation cannot safely 
 be carried beyond a certain point. As we face the ac- 
 
GOD EESTATED 31 
 
 tivities of the external world, and whatever lies behind 
 them, the attitude of confidence and cooperation has a 
 survival value for the individual or for the social group. 
 Without it, human associations are in the long run un- 
 workable. Religious decadence and general scepticism 
 are a mark of social decay. They might be termed a 
 biological retrogression. Man is less fitted to work with 
 his Environment. 
 
 The new position taken by physical Science opens the 
 way for a realinement of Christian doctrine. If Matter 
 is dynamic rather than material, it is no longer necessary 
 to say that God is outside of the world which He has 
 made. Such a distinction has lost its value. The world 
 may better be described as the unfolding of God's activity. 
 Creation must be stated in terms of evolution rather than 
 of manufacture. God, instead of being a supreme and 
 perhaps unknowable epiphenomenon, a fifth wheel to the 
 world's onrushing car, becomes known to us in and through 
 our Environment. The way is open for us to recover 
 Jesus' sense of a dynamic, a spiritual world. There is no 
 other. ISTot Matter but Energy is at the basis of the 
 Universa It is the materialist's world of inert stuff, of 
 dead atoms, of fluid space, which proves to be unreal. 
 When the physicist studies the Universe, he is studying 
 God, in certain modes of His action. God Himself, and 
 not one of His creatures or emanations. The theologian 
 is talking about the same great fact. He is trying to de- 
 scribe a spiritual Universe. By the use of other lines of 
 evidence, other contacts and judgments of value, the 
 Christian interprets God as the Divine Parent, whose 
 spiritual order is revealed to our experience through Jesus 
 Christ. Science tells us the way God does His work. 
 Christianity explains the character of the Universe and 
 enables us to make our adjustment more intelligent and 
 fruitful. 
 
 Science and Religion are thus two sides of the same 
 process of mental adaptation. Each is supreme in its own 
 
33 CHAOS OE COSMOS? 
 
 field. The function of Science is to describe; the func- 
 tion of Eeligion is to interpret. The scientist must be 
 absolutely free to study the facts of the Universe and 
 report his findings. 'No one else is competent to do so. 
 In its own sphere, Religion must be given the same right 
 of way. For the scientific worker to say that there is no 
 God back of the phenomena of the Universe, would be as 
 presumptuous as for the theologian to deny the atomic 
 theory or the fact of organic evolution. Science may de- 
 scribe the facts of the world, but it cannot interpret the 
 world as a whole. I speak positively on this matter, be- 
 cause for many years I was engaged in what I believe was 
 an honest and competent attempt to interpret the world 
 on the basis of scientific induction. I found that after a 
 certain stage in the enquiry I reached the end of my 
 rope. Induction failed because the data were incomplete. 
 By no conceivable perfecting of scientific method can the 
 situation be remedied. In order to make further advance 
 I was obliged to turn to religion in general, and in particu- 
 lar to the climax of religious development which we reach 
 in the experience of Jesus. He interprets the Universe 
 as expressing the activity of a moral and altruistic God. 
 Our concern is with the value of this idea, rather than 
 with any particular theories as to its source. Philosophi- 
 cally it must be counted as a hypothesis, but no other hypo- 
 thesis is at hand. Either Jesus has given a correct inter- 
 pretation of the Universe, a problem to which the present 
 book is devoted. Or no interpretation is possible; the 
 Universe is a Chaos, without intelligible meaning. To 
 return to my original point, the distinction between the 
 scientific and the religious attitude and method is merely 
 for practical convenience. ITormally the same mind will 
 hold both attitudes and follow both methods. It is only 
 by combining the two that we gain a complete picture of 
 the Universe. 
 
 The mystic sees God, where other people see only soil 
 and flesh and implements and wood and steel. The differ- 
 
GOD RESTATED 33 
 
 ence is partly in temperament, partly in the power of 
 imagination, partly in training and intellectual environ- 
 ment. But God is there, in all tiie physical world, what- 
 ever names we give to it. The most matter of fact person 
 is as truly in contact with Him as is the religious mystic 
 or the dreaming poet, of whom our next chapter will have 
 much to tell. Once let the practical man catch that point 
 of view, the point of view of Jesus, and a righteous and 
 loving God begins to be for him a supreme reality, and no 
 longer merely a name or a tradition. 
 
 The revolution of thought which I have sketched may 
 mean the beginning of a new Christian era. Faith and 
 worship become once more an integral part of life. The 
 religion of Christ, with which our modem civilization 
 is identified, should have in the future a note of reality, 
 a this-worldliness, a practical mysticism, which it has not 
 known since Jesus taught in Palestine. Can God seem 
 distant or unreal when the very food we eat, the clothes 
 we wear, the body that is clothed and fed, are essentially 
 Divine? The physical, as Dearmer says, becomes a sac- 
 rament, the outward and visible sign of a spiritual Pres- 
 ence. Each day is sacred that is lived with Him. Each 
 spot is holy where we meet our God. All functioning 
 of body and brain becomes an act of communion. The 
 natural world takes on new beauty and meaning. Every 
 human activity finds a place in the spiritual order which 
 God and men are making a reality on earth. 
 
 Yesterday God to the average man was an abstraction. 
 Christian theologians, not yet emancipated from Greek 
 and German philosophy, tended to treat Him as an idea, an 
 Absolute, a bundle of ideal qualities which it was often 
 difficult to translate into the concrete. 
 
 Today, if we accept Jesus' spiritual interpretation of 
 the world, God is a fact, the great fact of existence, the 
 one thing real in the external world from which there 
 is no escape. In His constant and ordered activity we 
 Jive and move and have our being. Keligion is no longer a 
 
34 CHAOS OE COSMOS? 
 
 matter of choice. In the broad sense, every man is re- 
 ligious. The atheist and the Christian, the artisan and the 
 astronomer, the physicist and the priest, alike are in con- 
 tact with that ever-present, unavoidable Universe, which 
 the Christian, through his deeper experience, has learned 
 to call the presence of the Father. I do not attempt to 
 state the exact relations between God and the physical 
 Environment. But the two are so close, in our experience, 
 that to ask proof of the existence of God would be to 
 prove the existence of the Universe, which only an occa- 
 sional bedouin philosopher considers necessary. 
 
 It is evident that our idea of communion between man 
 and God must be given a broader meaning. Intercourse 
 with a Deity who lives up in the sky, is one thing. Inter- 
 course with a God who fills all the world that our senses 
 reveal to us, is quite another thing. In the next chapter, 
 let us consider man's communion with God in !N'ature. 
 
IV. 
 
 Jesus' sense of God's activity in !N"ature was buried for 
 many centuries. Christian thought was pitched in an- 
 other key. Its joy was found in anticipations of a future 
 heaven, rather than in appreciation of the present earth. 
 The world was essentially evil ; the Day of Judgment was 
 at hand. Christians, writhing under persecution, found 
 comfort in the Jewish imagery of the last things. Then 
 apocalypse gave place to asceticism. The ideal Christian 
 life, possible only for the few, was to withdraw from the 
 world and its pleasures, and mortify the flesh for the sake 
 of the soul. In the break-up of civilization during the 
 following centuries, men had no spirit for the enjoyment 
 of JsTature. Augustine's dream is of a city, and that not 
 of this earth. The Greek love and worship of beauty dies 
 out ; the passion for country life, the delight in landscape 
 for its own sake, which we see in Horace and Vergil. Al- 
 most the last echoes of nature-love are found in some 
 charming bits in the Elocutio Novella, and in the descrip- 
 tion of the Moselle by the Christian teacher Ausonius, 
 toward the end of the fourth century. Teutonic thought 
 was cast in a gloomier mold. Land clearing meant a hard 
 and unceasing struggle with natural forces. The forest, 
 which fills such a large place in mediaeval folk-lore, was 
 peopled not by nymphs but by pixies and goblins. Wild 
 nature was not loving but terrible. 
 
 The recovery of E'ature was not due to the churchmen, 
 whose thoughts were elsewhere, but to the poets. Wan- 
 dering students trill very pagan songs. At the end of the 
 
 35 
 
36 CHAOS OE COSMOS? 
 
 12th century, Walther von der Vogelweide sings in castle 
 courts of "the flowers pressing out of the grass, early on a 
 May morning, and smiling at the playful sun." A hun- 
 dred years later, Dante has the gift and the leisure of mind 
 to observe the natural world and enjoy it and describe it. 
 Dafydd in Wales paints his lyric pictures of the birds. 
 Petrarch finds in his mountain retreat at Vaucluse, and in 
 his study of antiquity, something of that world of natural 
 beauty which men once knew and were to know again. 
 Chaucer says farewell to his books and his prayers, when 
 Spring comes and he hears the birds singing. 
 
 The Kenaissance revived the feeling of the Greek and 
 Latin writers toward the natural world, which once more 
 became something it was legitimate to study and enjoy. 
 The movement represented a new energy and broadening 
 sympathies. But it tended, like any revival of the old, 
 toward artificiality. The love of N'ature was an affair of 
 fountains and trim garden walks, of classical imagery and 
 courtly sentiment. Only in England did it become freshly 
 creative. The lyrics of the Elizabethans are spontaneous, 
 overflowing, sometimes even boisterous in their enjoy- 
 ment. The landscape backgrounds of Shakespeare, the 
 more elaborate descriptions of Milton, are equal to the 
 best in classic literature, and with a human feeling which 
 is their own. In England too a cold and symmetrical man- 
 nerism succeeded, for nearly two centuries. But the love 
 of country life, once gained, was never lost, as Palgrave 
 has shown in his quotations from minor poets. ^ 
 
 In their treatment of !N"ature, the painters fared in some 
 ways better than the poets. Theirs was a new art, and not 
 a revival. "No classic models survived to hamper freedom 
 of expression. Popular taste continued to demand con- 
 ventional figure painting, even in the treatment of natural 
 scenery. But long before the rise of Komanticism, Titian 
 and Diirer had begun to turn space backgrounds into true 
 
 * F. T. Palgrave, Landscape in Poetry, 167 //. 
 
MAFS COMMUNION WITH NATURE 37 
 
 landscape. Salvator Rosa caught the appeal of the roman- 
 tic and sublime. Claude studied Nature so closely that he 
 was able to generalize its impressions of atmosphere and 
 sunlight. And generations of gifted Hollanders, in their 
 rendering of ocean, sky and land, whether with bold nat- 
 uralism or the poetic interpretation of wide spaces, de- 
 veloped a knowledge and appreciation of natural beauty 
 which in a later age would find ample recognition. 
 
 It is not until Rousseau that Europe really comes to love 
 wild Nature. Men break away from the artificial and 
 conventional. The romantic spirit invests every natural 
 object with charm and human meaning. This feeling has 
 become so instinctive with us moderns, that it is hard to 
 think our way back to the days, only a century and a half 
 ago, when men did not pass through the Alps except from 
 necessity, when a geometrical garden was preferred to a 
 wooded hillside, and to go from city to country was apt to 
 be considered a form of exile or penance. 
 
 God's natural world is a Temple with various courts. 
 To enter the outer precincts, one need not name the name 
 of God. No set forms of worship are prescribed, no offer- 
 ing, no temple fee. An artist's eyes are good. But the 
 only requisites are a mind at leisure and a receptive soul. 
 Let a man put aside for a while his work and cares, and 
 step into the freshness and beauty out of doors. At once 
 he finds himself on holy ground. The pure air fills his 
 lungs, tense nerves relax, a new peace steals upon his spirit. 
 His senses are alert to the beauty and melody around 
 him. 
 
 The comfortable warmth of the sun in the early spring- 
 time, and the smell of moist earth. The brownish green of 
 the prairie grass, with a background of red stems in the 
 windbreak of willows. The first shy anemones, and the 
 glory of marsh marigolds by the brookside. Wild plums 
 and cherries with their splashes of white, set off against 
 
38 CHAOS OE COSMOS? 
 
 that new green world which the gooseberries had been fore- 
 telling. A whiff of wild-grape blossoms. The apple trees 
 in their bridal beauty. 
 
 The aromatic fragrance of the sweet-fern, basking in the 
 summer sun. The mountain stream where trout are hid- 
 ing, and one takes toll besides of every mossy rock and 
 silver brown ripple, of the sunlight through translucent 
 young birches, and the cool damp shadows. Strawberries 
 hanging over the brook at the edge of the meadow, where 
 the queenly elm keeps solitary state. The lake at evening, 
 as you glide out with your canoe and witness the marriage 
 of sky and shore. 
 
 The first sharp frost of Autumn, decking sumac and 
 swamp maple in brave scarlet coats. Poplars minting their 
 golden coins. The riotous colors of the sugar-bush in 
 northern !N'ew England. The Turkish tapestry of the 
 Connecticut hills. 
 
 Bare branches, dividing the sky into traceries of forgot- 
 ten beauty. The sparkle of fresh snow, and the ozone in 
 one's lungs. And Spring will begin a new cycle of 
 rhythmic loveliness. "How good is man's life, the mere 
 living." If appreciation of God's world be worship, every 
 red-blooded devotee is the better for communion. 
 
 But nature worship is an instinct, universal, irrepres- 
 sible. If we may not visit mountains and woods and 
 streams, we can hang on cur wall the interpretation which 
 some artist has given of them, or the camera's reminders. 
 No home so poor but it may set up an altar in the shape 
 of a potted plant, a slip to which the housewife brings her 
 daily offering of water and love, a bulb that shows to won- 
 dering young eyes the miracle of resurrection. 'No slum 
 but has its flower vender, who finds eager purchasers. To 
 my thinking a single rose, bought with one's last coin, is 
 lovelier far than a plutocratic sheaf of blossoms. Even 
 when the flower fades, the leaves and angled stem live on 
 as objects of exquisite beauty. Every civilized city must 
 have its parks, for the great multitude who cannot go 
 
MAN'S COMMUNION WITH NATURE 39 
 
 afield. We feel it a sacred duty to God and to humaiiity 
 to reproduce as best we may the trees and flowers of His 
 natural world, and the green grass where tired eyes may 
 rest and children play. 
 
 From this outer precinct of the Temple, some of us 
 pass in to the court of Imagination. I confess that I sel- 
 dom enter this sacred area, except when some poet or 
 painter leads ma It is not that my powers of imagining 
 are deficient. It is not that I see the machinery of nat- 
 ural processes, for of these I know comparatively little. 
 But my senses are so keen, my enjoyment of form and 
 color so satisfying, I am so engrossed by N"ature's un- 
 spoken friendliness, that I am not apt at drawing lessons 
 or tracing spiritual meanings. I never should have made a 
 good Greek, to people the natural world with nymphs and 
 goddesses. I do not find in it suggestions for an old age 
 vision of death, like the youthful Bryant And yet I enjoy 
 it when my friends make Nature a setting for things 
 human. 
 
 A favorite painting by Sontag represents a wild 
 forest scene. In the foreground is a log cabin, with the 
 blue smoke curling upward. Now when I go to worship 
 out of doors, unless I have some creature needs which man 
 alone can supply, I prefer to take my forest straight. I 
 object to intruders, to vulgar tourists, to farmers slashing 
 into my favorite woods. But I am glad the painter put 
 in the log cabin. Under the spell of his art, I can enter 
 again into the hardships and satisfactions of the home- 
 steader's life, as he hews a farm of his own out of the 
 timber. In a certain picture of the Maine coast, the last 
 rays of the sun touch the top of the cliffs, the masses of 
 cloud, the distant island, the hollows of the ocean swell. 
 But it is good that the artist adds some ships, to catch 
 the golden light on their sails. And the two women on 
 the rocks, in the costume of 1850, give a touch of fellow- 
 ship to our common worship. The Angelus, without the 
 tired reverent figures and the distant church tower, Vould 
 
40 CHAOS OR COSMOS? 
 
 be merely a study of the sunset afterglow in chrome yellow. 
 By putting man into his landscape, the artist helps us to 
 feel that God's world of l^ature, like the Sabbath, was 
 made for man. 
 
 But there is a Divine symbolism in the outward world 
 which even the most sense-bound of nature worshippers 
 may share, when a Jesus or some other poet-teacher leads 
 the way. To pick a lily, and think that it is God who 
 clothed it in its glorious colors. To ride along a forest 
 road in October and feel that He has passed by, touching 
 the foliage lightly with His frost brush. 
 
 All over upland and lowland 
 The charm of the golden rod, — 
 
 Some of us call it Autumn 
 And others call it God. 
 
 Or take the sunrise, as pictured in various ages. For 
 the singer of the Rig Veda, "she comes like a fair young 
 maiden, awakening all to labor, with a hundred chariots 
 comes she," or driving before her the red cattle of the 
 clouds. In Homer too she is the rosy-fingered goddess, 
 rising from her ocean couch, and yoking to her car the 
 swift horses that carry light to men. With the Hebrew 
 psalmist, Jehovah hac pitched a tent of many colors for 
 the sun, which is like a bridegroom coming out of his 
 chamber, and rejoices as an athlete to run his race. Or 
 Jehovah covereth Himself with light as with a garment; 
 He maketh the clouds His chariot, and walketh upon the 
 wings of the wind. In Christian poetry, when freed from 
 the trammels of classical convention, the symbolism 
 changes: 
 
 Out of the scabbard of the night. 
 
 By God's hand drawn, 
 Flashes the shining sword of light, 
 
 And lo ! the Dawn. 
 
MAWS COMMUNION WITH NATURE 41 
 
 The inner court, the Holj of Holies, ushers us into the 
 Presence. It is entered, at rare intervals, by the high 
 priests of humanity, who see the natural world with the 
 eyes of a mystic. There come moments in the life of man 
 when "this earth he walks on seems not earth." And the 
 vision melts into the glow of rapturous assurance. The 
 literature of Mysticism shows us how religious men, in all 
 ages, have found communion with NTature a communion 
 with God. 
 
 The God we find in ^Nature will be the God we have 
 already come to know through instruction and social wor- 
 ship. But the Presence is there, for the seer, no matter 
 how unorthodox, to discover and possess. Berenson has 
 called attention to the mystical value of space-composition 
 in the Umbrian school of painters, notably Perugino. His 
 art, while we are under its spell, "woos us away from our 
 tight, painfully limited selves, dissolves us into the space 
 presented, until at last we seem to become its permeating, 
 indwelling spirit." ^ 
 
 Perugino but reproduces the elemental rapture which 
 Nature brings at times, especially in far perspectives. A 
 feeling of awful yet thrilling immensity, a quickened pulse 
 and breathing, the sense of being in the very presence 
 of God Himself. In various situations it comes to me. 
 Not only in a building with lofty arches, a cathedral, or 
 one of our really great railway stations. But under the 
 stars on a clear night. Or on stepping forth of a morning 
 beneath the measureless sky of the West, where the blue 
 stretches haze-less to the horizon. I have the same sensa- 
 tion when I come out upon a mountain crest, and look 
 off on wave after wave of giant peaks. 
 
 This overwhelming sense of the Divine in Nature comes 
 to many through the medium of wide spaces. Some few, 
 like Whitman, are able to gain from any natural object 
 the same inward identification with the Universe. Even 
 as a child, he tells us, he became the things he looked on, 
 
 "B. Berenson, Central Italian Painters, 1897, 102. 
 
42 CHAOS OR COSMOS? 
 
 and these objects became part of him, whether they were 
 early lilacs, or "the sow's pink-faint litter," or water plants 
 waving their graceful flat heads at the bottom of the pond. 
 The French writer Senancoiirt tells of walking the streets 
 of Paris on a dark day in early March. He was gloomy, 
 and walked because he had nothing to do. He passed a 
 jonquil in full bloom, bearing the first perfume of the year. 
 In that instant, his cup of happiness overflowed. Unutter- 
 able harmony, the sense of being in touch with the ideal 
 world, arose in him complete. 
 
 Whether in the rapt contemplation of the mystic, or the 
 frank enjoyment of natural forms and colors, communion 
 with the external world is, from our biological standpoint, 
 a most important side of human experience. Love of 
 ^Nature is a comparatively modern mood. But behind 
 it lie the wonder and awe which have played such a large 
 part in the history of Religion. In his emotional life, as 
 well as in thinking and practical affairs, we find man 
 seeking to adjust himself to his Environment. The Uni- 
 verse, which the religious man calls the manifestation of 
 God, is here. Whatever names we may give to it,, we can- 
 not escape from its contact. In the words of the Hebrew 
 psalmist: "Whither shall I go from Thy Spirit? Or 
 whither shall I flee from Thy presence? If I mount up 
 into the sky. Thou art there. If I lie down in the under- 
 world, behold Thou art there. The darkness and the light 
 are both alike to Thea" 
 
Y. 
 
 THE EAETH AHD THE UNIVEESE. 
 
 We turn from the murmuring brooks and sunset colors 
 of this pleasant earth, divinely fair, to consider again the 
 stellar universe, and the problem which it forces upon our 
 minds. Jesus' ideas of astronomy were those of his own 
 time. The sky was God's throne, and the earth His foot- 
 stool. The Master's theory of the world was geocentric; 
 there is no reason to suppose that the notion of other pos- 
 sible worlds ever entered his thought. This earth and the 
 life of man upon it were the center of God's interest. Here 
 the spiritual order was to be developed. God's Kingdom 
 was to come. His will to be done, on earth as in heaven. 
 
 It is at this point that the Christian hypothesis meets 
 its second test. Can it be made to fit the Universe of our 
 growing knowledge? When Copernicus in 1543 estab- 
 lished the fact that the earth is one of the planets revolving 
 about the sun, and that the sun is a component part of the 
 vast system of fixed stars, it came as a distinct shock to 
 religious thought. The earth seemed to dwindle in this 
 larger perspective, and human life to lose its unique sig- 
 nificance. 
 
 What are the general features of this physical Universe 
 in which our lives are spent ? Nothing is final in Astron- 
 omy. Cosmic philosophies, built up with great learning 
 and enthusiasm, have been left behind as mere landmarks 
 in the progress of Thought. Theory has ebbed and flowed, 
 as new evidence pointed this way or that. Dr. See pub- 
 lished one view of stellar evolution in 1896, and quite 
 another view in 1910. The same tidal approximation 
 
 43 
 
44 CHAOS OR COSMOS? 
 
 toward the truth may be expected in the coming days. In 
 this year of our Lord 1921, the general picture given by 
 astronomers is something like this. I introduce the cor- 
 rections which seem to be called for by Shapley'S study of 
 globular clusters.^ 
 
 Our home is in the Milky Way. And the Galaxy, which 
 forms a sort of celestial metropolis, is not laid out as a 
 band around the sky, but as a disk, filled with stars and 
 gaseous clouds. Its outer diameter is estimated by Shap- 
 ley at 300,000 light years. To locate our solar system more 
 exactly, it lies roughly in the plane of the disk, but de- 
 cidedly off from the center. According to the latest cen- 
 sus, the galactic metropolis contains approximately a bil- 
 lion stars, counting only those which are illuminated. They 
 are separated from each other by an average distance of 
 about 13 light years, or a little over 76 trillion miles. The 
 apparent concentration of small stars in a belt across the 
 heavens, is explained by their distance; we are looking 
 through a greater depth, that is through the plane of the 
 disk. 
 
 Eddington has shown that the bright stars are fairly uni- 
 form in mass, in spite of exceptional giants, like the newly 
 famous Betelgeuse. They appear to be passing through an 
 ascending and descending series, the color varying as the 
 temperature rises or falls. The action of gravitation, what- 
 
 * A fuller treatment will be found in Appendix B. Recent Progress 
 in Cosmogony. Any attempt today at an astronomical compendium, 
 is like trying to lay out a new atlas, with national boundaries 
 changing from week to week. For general introductions, I refer 
 the reader to F. K. Moulton, Introd. to Asiron., new ed., 1912; 
 H. Jacoby, Astronomy, 1913; Adolpho Stahl Lectures in Astron.y 
 Astron. Soc. of Pacific, 1919. For methods and results of Astro- 
 physics: G. E. Hale, Study of Stellar Evol, 1908; W. W. Camp- 
 bell, Stellar Motions, 1913; A. S. Eddington, Stellar Movements and 
 the Struc. of the Univ., 1914. For cosmogony: T. J. J. See, 
 Researches on Evol. of Stellar Syst's, vol. 2, 1910, rather dogmatic; 
 S. Arrhenius, Worlds m the MaJcing, 1908; Destinies of the Starsi, 
 1918; J. H. Jeans, Problems of Cosmogony and Stellar Dynamics, 
 1919. For Geology: T. C. Chamberlin, Origin of the Earth, 1916: 
 F. W. Clarke, Data of Geochemistry, 4th ed., 1920; L. V. Pirrson and 
 Chas. Schuchert, Text Book of Qeol.f 1915; Lull, etc., Evol. of the 
 Earth, 1918. 
 
THE EARTH AND THE UNIVERSE 45 
 
 ever that is, would tend to draw the stars together in ever- 
 growing masses. But this is probably balanced by the scat- 
 tering influences of electrical repulsion, radiation pressure, 
 and perhaps explosion. Particles of star dust, escaping 
 from the gaseous stars, form dark nebulous clouds. These 
 in turn condense to make new heavenly bodies. Some 
 features of our present Universe point toward an earlier 
 stage, many hundreds of million years ago, when the 
 material later made into stars formed an undifferentiated 
 mass of rarified gas. 
 
 When we pass from the metropolis and its suburbs to 
 the country districts, we find two dominant types of heav- 
 enly bodies. The spiral nebulae, of which about half a 
 million have been detected, are apparently moving away 
 from the Galaxy with great velocity. The condensed 
 globular clusters of stars — 86 of them according to the 
 latest count — are moving toward the Milky Way, and come 
 closest to it on the opposite side. 
 
 How are we to regard these extra-galactic or rural 
 groups? Each globular cluster appears to be a separate 
 and complete system. Do they represent other universes ? 
 Shapley considers them rather as appendages of the Milky 
 Way. They are miniature galaxies, rather than coequals. 
 The Hercules cluster, for example, has a diameter of only 
 1100 light years, with a limited number of stars. In a 
 later paper he attacks the question of the spiral nebulae, 
 and reaches a similar conclusion. They must be regarded 
 as genuine nebulae, rather than as collections of stars 
 which form "island universes." ^ 
 
 Do these spirals and clusters represent the outlying 
 portions of our Universe, and suggest its order of magni- 
 tude ? Or is the Universe infinite in extent, and filled with 
 an infinite number of stars ? The light which reaches us 
 from the stars as a whole is limited. On this ground the 
 majority of astronomers had decided a few years ago in 
 favor of a finite Universe. The question was reopened, 
 
 *Pullid's of Astronom. 8oo. of Pacific, Oct., 1919. 
 
46 CHAOS OK COSMOS? 
 
 with the discovery of a certain amount of star dust in 
 inter-stellar space. This suggested the possibility of a 
 "fog," as Turner calls it, which cuts oif part of the light. 
 But Shapley has shown that there is no appreciable ab- 
 sorption of light in any part of the sky.^ If our tele- 
 scopes can penetrate to over 200,000 light years, it is hard 
 to see how any great amount of light can be cut off by fog. 
 Apparently we are forced back to the conception of a 
 finite Universe, with definite though vastly extended boun- 
 daries. This, in connection with the relativity principle, 
 may require the revision of many of our ideas of ther- 
 modynamics.* 
 
 By way of parenthesis, I may remark that the question 
 of a finite or an infinite Universe has no bearing on the 
 Christian hypothesis, except to determine the particular 
 form which must be assigned to God in His physical mani- 
 festation. ' Infinity is purely a spatial term. Space, if we 
 accept Einstein's principle, is not a frame of reference, but 
 a series of relations. A finite Universe is one whose rela- 
 tions are capable of measurement An infinite Universe 
 would be a Universe whose relations extend so far that 
 we cannot expect to measure them with any instruments 
 at our command. . Whether God, in His physical manifes- 
 tation, is measurable or immeasurable, is a question of 
 fact, which Astronomy alone can settle. 
 
 Another equally futile question is whether the history 
 and arrangement of the Universe gives any indication of 
 an intelligent plan. Thus far Astronomy has done little 
 more than draw up working theories which may serve as 
 guides for further investigation. We do not know what is 
 the arrangement of units and forces within the stellar 
 
 * Ohservatory, Feb., 1919. Lebedew came to the same conclusion 
 a few years ago, from a study of light waves. Kapteyn's studies 
 appear to point to the selective absorption of certain rays, the red- 
 ness of the stars increasing with their distance. Astrophya. «/., 
 29, 46, 1909; 30, 284, 1909; 40, 187, 1914. 
 
 *This subject is discussed briefly in my Unfolding Universe, 
 57-60. 
 
THE EAETH AND THE UNIVERSE ^7 
 
 Universe, either in the present or the past. The dogmatism 
 of the 19th century cosmic philosophers would be entirely 
 out of place. Until astronomers give us this necessary 
 knowledge, it is premature to discuss the plan of the stellar 
 world. Personally I doubt whether the question will ever 
 be in order. The Universe is here, to be accepted and 
 studied, rather than criticized. Man's reason is a very 
 inadequate standard. It is of little value to know whether 
 the actual system is an intelligent arrangement, such as 
 would be made by the person who asks whether it is intel- 
 ligent. 
 
 Let us pass to a more specific question: the possibility 
 of life on other worlds. It is quite common to assume that 
 the earth is not unique in this regard. Dr. See, for 
 example, speaks of "millions of similar [solar] systems, 
 with habitable planets, which may now be confidently 
 inferred to exist in the immensity of space." Arrhenius 
 makes the same assumption, and on it bases his new theory 
 of panspermism. Wallace, in his very able book on Mans 
 Place in the Universe,^ argued against this, on the law of 
 probability. It will be well to restate Wallace's argument, 
 with the modifications in detail due to our advancing 
 knowledge. 
 
 What are the factors necessary for the development of 
 protoplasmic life, the only life we know ? Reducing Wal- 
 lace's table to somewhat simpler terms, we may name four 
 essential conditions, {a) A mean temperature well above 
 the freezing point, and not in excess of about 73° C. 
 (&) Water in sufficient quantity, and uniformly dis- 
 tributed, (c) An atmosphere with an ample supply of 
 carbon dioxide, and, for higher forms of life, free oxygen. 
 {d) Sufficient nitrogen or nitrogen compounds, carried 
 from the air into moist earth or standing water. 
 
 The presence and maintenance of these factors require a 
 heat producing body of approximately the temperature and 
 distance of the sun ; a planetary mass sufficient to retain a 
 
 •Alfred Russel Wallace, 3rd ed., 1905. 
 
48 CHAOS OR COSMOS? 
 
 dense atmospliere and hydrosphere ; and volcanic action of 
 the earth's crust that will keep up the supply of carbon 
 dioxide. These conditions the earth has fulfilled during 
 the geologic period, usually estimated (both from the depth 
 of sedimentary rocks and from the amount of salt in the 
 ocean) as 100 million years. Have the conditions been 
 met elsewhere? 
 
 None of the other members of our solar system are cap- 
 able of supporting life. The larger planets are masses of 
 gas. Mercury, and probably Venus, always presents the 
 same face to the sun. Mars, the only promising candi- 
 date, now is considered to have a mean summer tempera- 
 ture at the equator of — 27° C.^ Its mass, approximately 
 one-tenth that of the earth, is not sufficient to retain an 
 atmosphere and hydrosphere. The so-called "canals" are 
 merely volcanic fissures. Changing colors are not due to 
 vegetation, but to various salts and oxides, either dry or in 
 solution. The attempt of Lowell and others to show the 
 habitability of Mars, has not been creditable to Science. 
 Able astronomers let their imaginations run riot, and 
 proved anything they wished to prove, amid deafening 
 applause from the galleries. 
 
 We must guard against similar credulity in regard to 
 habitable planets in other parts of the sky. Of the im- 
 mense number of bright stars, very few appear to have 
 duplicated the conditions of our solar system. A hundred 
 million years is the time we have assigned to the organic 
 history of the earth. Careful calculation shows that dur- 
 ing this period only a little over 2000 stars are likely to 
 have had close encounters with other stars.'' Only a small 
 proportion of these encounters would have produced plane- 
 tary systems. Of the planets thus formed, not all would 
 furnish the conditions found on our earth. 
 
 Wallace's argument, as I have restated it, seems to me 
 to be against the probability of the simultaneous exist- 
 
 "Arrhenius, Destinies of the Stars, 1918, chap. 6. 
 'See Appendix C. Eahitahle Plcmets among the Stars? 
 
THE EARTH AND THE UNIVERSE 49 
 
 ence of another habitable planet. In the immense stretch 
 of astronomical time the case is somewhat altered. A re- 
 currence of the conditions found on the earth is possible, 
 we might say probable. When low forms of life began on 
 our earth, 100 million years ago, a race of men on some 
 distant planet may have been just ending their planetary- 
 career. That is if life always follows in the Universe, 
 when the conditions necessary for life are met. 
 
 If the general probabilities are what I have stated, it 
 is not necessary to consider Arrhenius' ingenious revival 
 of the theory that spores from other inhabited worlds 
 emigrated to our earth through inter-stellar space. Even 
 if such transfer were possible, spores are far too scarce 
 an article to fit the case. At best, this solution would 
 only push the problem one step farther back. The origin 
 of life still demands explanation. 
 
 The present biological situation, in the light of our 
 conception of the Universe as dynamic rather than mate- 
 rial, calls for an entirely different line of approach. I 
 recur to the idea which strongly appealed to Haeckel, 
 though stated by him with many dogmatisms and incon- 
 sistencies. The Universe which we know as physical, is 
 at the same time endowed with the properties which appear 
 to us as organic and psychical. To put it in another way, 
 the forces of the Universe will, under certain conditions, 
 interact with the electron groups which we call Matter, 
 in the various forms of living protoplasm. 
 
 Just what are the conditions of such interaction, the 
 terms on which the physical may become the organic, we 
 do not know. But we may hope to learn. The general 
 hypothesis I have stated, which may be called the working 
 theory of present-day Biology, has certain practical ad- 
 vantages. It offers a clue for investigation. It may con- 
 ceivably be verified by experiment Definite chemical 
 theories of life's origin are as yet tentative, we might say 
 premature. They need not be discussed in detail. I 
 merely refer the reader to Woodruff's excellent summary 
 
60 CHAOS OR COSMOS? 
 
 of ^ve recent suggestions: Pfliiger's cyanogen theory, 
 Moore's law of increasing physical complexity, Allen's 
 primitive nitrogen compounds, Troland's enzyme theory, 
 and Oshom's mutually attractive colloids.^ 
 
 Each important discovery serves to narrow the problem. 
 As we gain surer knowledge of the structure and activities 
 of one-celled organisms, as we unravel, step by step, the 
 marvellous complexity of the albumin molecules which 
 appear to be the basis of protoplasm, as we learn the 
 chemical nature of enzymes and other agents of the cell, — 
 we may expect some day to know and recreate the condi- 
 tions of organic life. It may never be possible to construct 
 in the laboratory even the simplest cell. But it is within 
 the bounds of possibility that we shall be able to put 
 together some of the simpler aggregations of molecules 
 from which the cell has grown, and see them showing quasi- 
 biotic activities. 
 
 Such a goal is the inspiration of the modem scientist. 
 The worker in Biology believes himself to be tracing the 
 beginnings of that process of organic action and inter- 
 action which forms one of the most fascinating mysteries 
 of our mysterious Universe. He might well say, with the 
 great astronomer, "I think Thy thoughts after Thee." 
 The religious idea, as stated in the pictorial language of 
 primitive thought, that God breathed into clay the breath 
 of life, is entirely consistent with the scientific statement 
 that, under certain conditions, carbon compounds show 
 new properties and behavior which we call organic. In 
 
 •L. L. Woodruff, in Evolution of the Earth, 1918, lecture 3; 
 E. Pfliiger, Arch. f. d. ges. Physiol., vol. 10, 1875; Benj. Moore, 
 Origin cmd Nature of Life, 1912; F. J. Allen, What is Life? Bir- 
 mingham Nat. Hist, and Philos. Soc., 11, 44, 1899; L. T. Troland, 
 Mdnist, 24, 92, 1914; and H. F. Osborn, Origin and Evol. of Life, 
 1917, 67 //. To these should be added the osmosis theory of 
 Stephanne Leduc, Mechanism of Life, Eng. trans., 1911. See also 
 articles by E. A. Schafer and H. E. Armstrong, reprinted in Smith- 
 sonian Inst. Report, 1912, 493, 527; E. A. Minchin, Evolution of 
 the Cell, Am. Naturalist, 50, pp. 1, 106, 270, 1916; Felix le Dantec, 
 Nature and Origin of Life, Eng. trans., 1906. 
 
THE EARTH AND THE UNIVERSE 51 
 
 fact, if we believe that God is revealed to us in the physical 
 TTniverse, the two statements are identical. 
 
 Man's place in the Universe is not a question of stellar 
 geography, or of the number of inhabited worlds. The 
 moral value of human life, the achievements of the human 
 mind, the development of a social order, — these retain the 
 place which they held at the beginning of the Christian 
 era. The Christian hypothesis is not affected by the ex- 
 panding idea of the world. Modem Astronomy has merely 
 given human life a larger perspective. Man has become 
 indeed a cosmopolitan. The Universe of his adjustment 
 has taken grander outKnes. Our God is a greater God, 
 He no longer is localized or provincial. But He is the 
 same God. The very uniformity of Nature must give the 
 Universe an identical character, whether on the foothills 
 of an earthly Galilee or in the recesses of Orion. 
 
VI. 
 
 THE UNIVERSE UNFOLDING. 
 
 In the background of the previous discussion another 
 question has been lurking. Christianity asserts a goal in 
 organic creation. God works for a definite end : the mak- 
 ing and perfecting of Man. Is such teleology consistent 
 with the facts of Biology as we know them ? This is the 
 third test of the Christian hypothesis. 
 
 The general idea of evolution, rather than special crea- 
 tion, is entirely consistent with the conception of the Uni- 
 verse which we have already reached. In fact, no other 
 view harmonizes with Jesus' idea of God's activity in 
 Nature. The Master himself suggested the method of 
 gradual unfolding, though he had no basis for applying 
 it to biology. If we accept the doctrine of organic evolu- 
 tion, and conceive of God as working from within rather 
 than without, we should be prepared to take the conse- 
 quences. One of these is that the God revealed through 
 Biology must be the same as the God revealed by Christ. 
 Otherwise the Christian theory of the Universe would fail 
 to square with the fact. Man is the culmination of a 
 long evolutionary process. Was this an accident, or was it 
 an inevitable result of the forces involved ? Let me review 
 the question of the origin of species as it stands today. ^ 
 
 In evolutionary theory, the extreme Darwinians held 
 
 the fidd for two generationa. The origin of species was 
 
 *A good elementary treatment will be found in John M. Coulter, 
 Evolution, Heredity and Eugenics, 1916; and, with M. C. Coulter, 
 Plant Genetics, 1918. See also R. C. Punett, Mendelism, 5th ed., 
 1919; T. H. Morgan, Evolution and Ado/ptation, 1903; Physical 
 Basis of Inheritance, 1919; W. Bateson, Prohlema of Genetics, 
 1913. 
 
 fi2 
 
THE UmVEKSE UNFOLDING 53 
 
 attributed to minute fluctuations, in size, color, form and 
 organs. These, if of any advantage in the intense struggle 
 for existence, were perpetuated by natural selection. The 
 individuals lacking this small advantage were extermi- 
 nated. These selected organisms were in turn subject to 
 fluctuation and selection. The net result was a slow but 
 definite modification of structure, by which they became 
 better adapted to surrounding conditions. Continued long 
 enough, and with the environment changing from time to 
 time, the process was supposed to bring into being the 
 millions of distinct varieties and species found on our 
 planet. Progress represented the summation of a series 
 of fortunate accidents. Natural Selection was the deus 
 ex machina. The successful individual or species was a 
 sort of juggernaut, riding to power over the bleeding bodies 
 of those that had failed in the struggle, proved themselves 
 unfitted to survive. It was a complete though cruel pic- 
 ture. Some biologists still hold to it in toto; parts of it 
 must be retained on any theory. The doctrine of progress 
 through struggle left a deep and in many ways unfor- 
 tunate impression on the thought of our age. The World 
 War was a logical consequence of the idea that you must 
 kill off your competitors in order to survive. 
 
 Another era began in 1900, with the rediscovery of 
 MendeFs principle of unit characters, and de Vries' study 
 of mutations in the evening primrose. The new school of 
 Biology differs from the old in three important particu- 
 lars. In the first place, the study of genetics is on an 
 experimental basis. The specific characters of plant and 
 animal groups must be determined, not by surface resem- 
 blances, but through breeding experiments in the labora- 
 tory. Mendel's law makes possible the manipulation and 
 control of the various factors which are brought out by 
 crossing and segregated in line breeding. Secondly, at- 
 tention is directed, not to fluctuations, but to true varia- 
 tions, which hg^ve their seat in the germ cell. Johannsen 
 showed that in a pure line, though the size fluctuated con- 
 
U CHAOS OE COSMOS? 
 
 stantly, the differences were not inherited, and could not be 
 selected in a way to affect the mean of the race. The mod- 
 em plant or animal breeder goes deeper, and works with 
 heritable factors. These may be either recombinations or 
 mutations.^ 
 
 In the third place, the mutationist school has given up 
 hunting for reasons why the new form is better fitted to 
 survive. Adaptation is no longer the sole criterion for 
 species making. Struggle has no necessary connection 
 with progress. The new characters that appear may be of 
 distinct adrantage to the organism, and again they may 
 not. If mutations or new combinations manage to secure 
 a foothold, they will live on side by side with the older 
 and possibly more adaptable type. ITature is a very hos- 
 pitable host.^ Advance in structure has probably been by 
 large rather than small steps. It is only in the case of a 
 new factor which represents marked improvement in 
 adaptation, that selection tends to weed out older forms. 
 The one-toed horse displaced the two-toed horse, very much 
 as the pneumatic tire displaced the. solid rubber tire on 
 the bicycle. 
 
 This shift of scientific opinion not only cuts the ground 
 from under the competition theory, in its applications to 
 man's social history. It enables us to take the organic 
 world as we find it, in its infinite and fascinating variety, 
 without that inventing of imaginary means to serve hypo- 
 thetical ends, which vitiated the whole Darwinian school, 
 as it did the earlier school of Paley. If there is teleology 
 in l!Tature, it is not of the pure natural selection brand. 
 The one-toed horse is a one-toed horse because a certain 
 recombination of factors in its germ plasm, with which 
 
 'See Appendix D. The Emergence of a Neio Species. 
 
 'Survival is chiefly a question of fortunate location, or of indi- 
 vidual reproductive power and general vigor, and in cross-fertilized 
 plants the most vigorous individuals are hybrids. Pure lines are 
 largely man's creation. Most of the forms which have been made 
 or discovered in the laboratory, and used for starting new lines, 
 would not have been selected automatically by Nature. 
 
THE UOTVEESE UNFOLDINa 55 
 
 selection was not concerned, gave it one toe on each foot 
 instead of two. 
 
 What are these factors, or "genes," which lie at the hasis 
 of the origin of species, and which the plant breeder is 
 able to some extent to manipulate ? We do not know, any 
 more than the chemist, up to a few years ago, knew the 
 nature of the elements he mixed in his test tubes. I mean 
 this comparison to suggest two things. The progress of 
 Science may be expected to throw definite light on the 
 problem. And the solution is likely to be found in the 
 field of organic chemistry. Castle, whose return to the 
 mutationist ranks is an event of the greatest importance, 
 states that the result of his recent experiments with 
 piebald rats "favors the widely accepted view that the 
 single gene is not subject to fluctuating variability, but is 
 stable like a chemical compound of definite composition, 
 and changes only similarly, by definite steps." * 
 
 From the standpoint of Physics, which no physical 
 phenomena can escape, organisms represent the transfor- 
 mation of familiar and measurable energies, and the 
 rearrangement of equally familiar atoms and molecules. 
 The transformations and arrangments are of very much 
 greater complexity than in the organic field. But they are 
 the same in kind, and follow the same laws. Recent lit- 
 erature bears eloquent witness to this general fact.^ There 
 is a growing impression that evolution, whether in stars 
 or crystals, in colloids or organisms, is one process, which 
 in all its phases is equally characteristic of the Universe.^ 
 
 If the environment of the organism is physico-chemical, 
 and the germ cell is itself a physico-chemical phenomenon, 
 variation, like life itself, must be due to the interaction of 
 these two sets of closely related factors. In this regard 
 the religious and scientific standpoints are identical, since 
 our knowledge of God's method in Evolution is derived 
 
 *W. E. Castle, Proo. Nat. Acad. Sci., 5, 126, 1919. 
 
 * See Appendix E. Chemistry and the Organism. 
 
 • This view has been ably presented by L. J. Henderson, Fitness of 
 the Environment, 1913; Order of Nature, 1917. 
 
66 CHAOS OE COSMOS? 
 
 solely from the study of ISTatiire. It is not necessary to 
 suppose that God acts through a hypothetical entelechy or 
 vital force. When we once recognize the essentially dy- 
 namic character of the physical Universe, God may act 
 equally well through an enzyme or an amino acid. 
 
 I ask the reader to hold in aheyance the question as to 
 whether variation, which lies at the basis of the origin of 
 species, is anything more than the interaction of one part 
 of the Universe with another. "We are concerned in this 
 chapter with the question of Teleology in regard to the 
 evolutionary process as a whole. In discussing Chaos or 
 Cosmos, it is vitally important to know whether organic 
 history represents team-work toward a definite goal, or 
 whether it is a free-for-all that only happens to arrive 
 anywhere. We do not ask at this point what the organism 
 is in itself, or how we are to explain the element of "be- 
 havior," the apparent striving of the living unit toward 
 specific ends. In the next section of our book I shall take 
 up the problem of the Individual. 
 
 From our present point of view, organic evolution is an 
 "energy traffic," to use Allen's term, through the medium 
 of organic machines, of ever increasing complexity. The 
 most complete development of this idea is that of Osborn, 
 in his Origin and Evolution of Life J Beginning with the 
 Bacteria, which are able to capture the energy in certain 
 chemical elements, we pass to the Algae, whose acquire- 
 ment of chlorophyll makes it possible to transform the 
 energy in solar rays. The Plants represent a higher de- 
 velopment of this function. At a later stage, the Protozoa, 
 through their better chemical equipment, break up the 
 energy already accumulated by the bacteria and algae on 
 which they feed. This type of energy transformer is de- 
 veloped further in the many-celled animals, which likewise 
 depend on organic material, largely green plants. The 
 
 'H. F. Osborn, 1917. A brief outline of this theory is given in 
 Appendix F, The Evolution of the Organic Machine. Cf. D. M. S. 
 Watson, Science Progress, 11, 216, 1916 j Richard S. Lull, in Evol. of 
 the Earth, 1918, lecture 4. 
 
THE UNIVERSE UNFOLDING 67 
 
 process culminates in the various Vertebrate types. These 
 show an increasingly complex and adaptable mechanism 
 for transforming the energy stored in the food supply. 
 As Osborn puts it, "the solar energy transformed into the 
 chemical potential energy of the compounds of carbon, 
 hydrogen, and oxygen in the plants is transformed by the 
 animal into motion and heat and then dissipated. Thus 
 in the life cycle we observe both the conservation and the 
 degradation of energy, corresponding with the first and 
 second laws of thermodynamics." ® 
 
 In the development of this energy traffic, we note three 
 parallel series of changes. The first is that of the physical 
 environment. It is necessary to keep constantly in mind 
 the geologic fluctuations which have taken place during 
 these hundred million years or more. The readjustment 
 of the earth's surface, due to shrinkage of the planetary 
 mass, brought periodic changes, both in the character of 
 the land and in the distribution of land and water areas. 
 At the beginning of each geologic era, we see the re-eleva- 
 tion of continental mountain ranges. This was accom- 
 panied by a cold period, which disarranged all organic 
 life. At least six of these major crises are known. Minor 
 readjustments of the earth's crust brought radical if less 
 severe changes in climate. 
 
 Corresponding with these physical changes are those in 
 the general life environment. Each period of the history 
 has its characteristic fauna and flora. The organism must 
 face new enemies, whether predatory creatures or disease- 
 bearing parasites. The food supply is altered : in variety, 
 quantity and distribution. In the Cenozoic era, for 
 example, the emergence of warm-blooded Mammals seems 
 to be associated with the rise of flowering plants and 
 grasses. The drying up of central Asia, at a later period, 
 compelled the early Primates to descend from the trees. 
 
 The third line of change, with which we are specially 
 concerned, is that in the organic machine itseK. The 
 •Op. oit., 53. 
 
58 CHAOS OK COSMOS? 
 
 situa/fcion, particularly at certain epochs, put a premium 
 on adaptability. This might take the direction of im- 
 proved chemical equipment, which made it possible for 
 the organism to utilize new types of food. It might lie 
 along the line of greater disease-resistance. It might rep- 
 resent an improved mechanism, whether for capturing 
 food, for escaping enemies, or for producing or protect- 
 ing offspring. Each geologic crisis is marked by the scrap- 
 ping of much of the previous machinery. "The rulers of 
 the various domains find themselves overtrained and over- 
 specialized, and succumb one after another to the changing 
 environment. Their places are taken by the small, less 
 specialized, and heretofore little known stocks, which 
 quickly adapt themselves to their environments and become 
 the dominatoTS of the organisms about them. In all of this 
 unceasing organic struggle most of the unadaptive families 
 fail to continue; others are pushed by the pulse of life 
 into the less desirable places, where they continue to live 
 as static forms — the living fossils that tell us so much that 
 is most interesting of once prominent stocks of plants and 
 animals ; but at all times much of life quickly responds to 
 the changing environment and is remodelled into the more 
 fit, active, and alert types." ^ 
 
 Whatever the explanation may be, students of Paleon- 
 tol(^y are agreed that the evolutionary changes in any type 
 have tended to show progressive adaptation. The empha- 
 sis or suppression of earlier structures or proportions has 
 been more or less continuous, involving small successive 
 changes. The jaw of the horse may be used as an example. 
 Taking first the premolars, no horse from the Lower 
 Eocene has been found with any fully molariform teeth. 
 All horses from the Middle Eocene have two molariform 
 teeth in the lower jaw. From the Upper Eocene, all horses 
 have four such teeth. In the Oligocene they have six. 
 Turning to the molars, older horses, as in the Oligocene, 
 have brachyodont teeth without cement. All Miocene 
 
 •Chas. Schuchert, in Ewl. of the Earth, 1918, 81. 
 
THE UNIVEESE UNFOLDING 59 
 
 horses are progressively hypsodont, with a progressive in- 
 crease in the amount of cement. The milk teeth of 
 Miocene horses have practically no cement. Those of all 
 Pliocene and later horses are heavily cemented.^^ 
 
 Something of the same process appears to have been 
 going on in the evolution of the nervous system. Only 
 the last steps in the long and fascinating story can be sug- 
 gested here. The arboreal life of the early Primates 
 favored a high development of the senses of vision, touch 
 and hearing, with the corresponding brain areas. Com- 
 pelled by further geologic changes to descend to the 
 ground, a partly erect attitude and walking gait allow 
 the development of the hands and fingers. This in turn 
 brings further growth and specialization of the brain. The 
 Neanderthal race, which flourished in Europe in the early 
 Pleistocene (perhaps 800,000 years ago), stands erect, has 
 a well-developed opposable thumb, and the brain centers 
 controlling the motions of the limbs, hands and fingers are 
 well developed. There is only a rudimentary develop- 
 ment of the anterior centers of the brain, associated with 
 speech and ideation. By the Aurignacean age, placed by 
 Osbom at 25,000 years ago, but probably very much 
 earlier. Homo Sapiens possesses his full powers. ^^ 
 
 Our interpretation of organic evolution as the perfect- 
 ing of a physico-chemical mechanism, correlated with an 
 environment of the same essential character, is of course 
 only provisional. But it has the advantage of being stated 
 in the same terms that are now being used for the origin 
 of life.^^ Let us see where this interpretation leads us. 
 
 It is perfectly clear that God did not plan out the details 
 of creation, as a human executive would lay out a schema 
 
 "Wm. K. Gregory, Am. Naturalist, 50, 622, 1917, with quotation 
 from W. D. Matthew. The series of evolutionary changes men- 
 tioned may have covered a period of 12 million years. 
 
 "H. F. Osbom, Men of the Old Stone Age, 3rd ed., 1918; G. Elliot 
 Smith, Evolution of Man, reprinted in Smithsonian Inst. Report, 
 1912, 553; Jos. Barrell, 8ci. Monthly, 4, 16, 1917. 
 
 "See ante p. 49. 
 
60 CHAOS OR COSMOS? 
 
 of development, to be put througli according to a certain 
 schedule. N"or can we think of the result as a matter 
 of chance. The Universe arrives. The perfecting of the 
 animal food supply makes possible the evolution of animal 
 life. A growing adaptability to changing environments 
 culminates in the intelligent mastery of the earth by the 
 human species. If there is life on other worlds, we have 
 every reason to suppose that organic evolution would fol- 
 low parallel lines, and reach a similar specialization of the 
 nervous system. But it has taken a hundred million years. 
 And the Universe does its work in its own way. 
 
 The picture of God which we gain is not that of a great 
 Engineer working from without, as in pre-Darwinian days. 
 "Not is He the Supreme Judge of the iN'atural Selection 
 theory, a sort of magnified Biometrician, an olympian 
 Karl Pearson, measuring rival claims to adaptation and 
 remorselessly sentencing to death the less successful. 
 Rather we are led to think of a Divine Universe unfolding 
 from within. The individual organism may be thought 
 of as a part of the Whole, or as a semi-independent energy 
 transformer, closely interacting with the Environment. 
 In either case the transformation of known energies ac- 
 cording to partially known laws, gives us a working ex- 
 planation of organic history. We are not concerned here 
 with the reason why the Universe unfolds, but merely with 
 the fact that it does. Such self-expression appears entirely 
 natural, and in harmony with what we know of God in His 
 physical manifestation. Life does not behave like a cosmic 
 blunder or accident. 
 
 This idea of a dynamic Universe unfolding from within, 
 is what the Christian hypothesis really calls for. The 
 process is not the chance aggregation of material particles, 
 but the outworking of Divine forces. The simplest bacil- 
 lus shows an assemblage of atom groups which we do not 
 find in the entire inorganic world. In organization and 
 potential power, the advance from the amoeba to the tyrant 
 dinosaur, from the dinosaur to man, is like the development 
 
THE UNIVEESE UNFOLDING 61 
 
 of machinery from human muscle to the modem dynamo. 
 The Universe of which man is in some sense a part, reveals 
 throughout geologic history a growth in complexity, in 
 variety, in the perfecting of form, in the adapting of means 
 to ends, in the control of physical energy for further crea- 
 tion, before which we all stand in reverent wonder. 
 
PAKT n. 
 
 THE KELATION OF MAN TO THE 
 UNIVERSE. 
 
PART II. 
 
 THE RELATIOlSr OF MAIST TO THE 
 UNIVERSE. 
 
 VII. 
 
 THE MAKING OF MAN. 
 
 How are we to think of a dynamic Universe, which 
 snows also the phenomena of evolving Life ? Two general 
 views are possible. There are divergent tendencies of 
 thought, which may be called respectively Monism and 
 Pluralism. Whether we follow the first or the second will 
 make a good deal of difference in the place we give to 
 Man as an individual. 
 
 The monist puts it in this way. The Universe is an all- 
 inclusive unity, the sum total of what we know as God, 
 Matter, Life and Mind — the Whole of which we are a 
 part, and to whose completeness we may perhaps con- 
 tribute. This theory has taken many forms. In Religion 
 it appears as Pantheism. God is Himself the All, and my 
 life is a current in the great ocean of His life. Such an 
 interpretation is fascinating to many minds. It gives 
 logical symmetry to the apparently disjointed facts of the 
 world. It offers a kind of Nirvana to the distracted, hard- 
 pressed spirit of man. Reality is an Absolute Monarch, 
 to whom we should submit. The Universe must take the 
 final responsibility for evil and pain. 
 
 Pluralism likewise has taken many forms. The con- 
 trasting theory which I wish to consider makes the present 
 Universe a social order. It asserts the dignity and worth 
 
 65 
 
66 CHAOS OE COSMOS? 
 
 of the individual man, as lie faces the external world. As 
 Pascal said : "Though the Universe crush me, I am greater 
 than the Universe. For I can know of my defeat, but the 
 Universe can never know of its victory." "Under the 
 bludgeonings of chance," shouts Henley, "my head is 
 bloody, but unbowed." Yet it is not necessary to shake 
 one's fist at the Universe. If man with his unconquerable 
 soul is a part of it, he has a responsibility for its shaping 
 and its final outcome. He shares the defeats and the vic- 
 tories. The static unity of the monist becomes an unfold- 
 ing social order, a Kepublic of conscious units. With 
 the external world, which the Christian calls a manifesta- 
 tion of God, with this vast dynamic system upon which 
 the individual is so closely dependent, man's relation is 
 not one of subjection but of cooperation. The Universe 
 has ceased to be a despotism. 
 
 Christianity holds to this latter theory. Man not only 
 communes with God through ISTature. 'He cooperates with 
 God in ISTature. With the general truth of this position 
 the Christian hypothesis must stand or fall. 
 
 In this and succeeding chapters, I shall sketch various 
 human activities and functions, which suggest what we 
 might term the democratic character of the Universe. Our 
 journey will be a somewhat long and rambling one; I 
 trust it will not be without interest. We cannot hurry 
 through the daily life of Man as if we were intellectual 
 Cook's tourists. For convenience I shall continue to call 
 the two rival theories Pluralism and Monism. The exact 
 connection between the external world and God lies out- 
 side of this book, though our 'discussion will illustrate 
 Jesus' idea of God as present in every aspect of our daily 
 adjustment.^ 
 
 *I also leave undetermined the relation of the lower organisms 
 to the Universe. (See the opposite views of the individual held by 
 T. H. Morgan, Phys. Basis of Heredity, 1919; Jacques Loeb, Organ- 
 ism as a Whole, 1916; and Wm. E. Ritter, Unity of the Orga/nism, 
 1919.) These show a creative activity that is somewhat similar 
 
THE MAKING OF MAN 67 
 
 Our first evidence for the cooperative character of the 
 Universe appears in the making of Man himself. In the 
 perpetuation of the race, we find him sharing creation at 
 its highest. Man's part in this task begins with procrea- 
 tion. The normal function of men and women is parent- 
 hood. On the voluntary union of the sexes depends the 
 very existence of the human units which represent the 
 climax of organic evolution. 
 
 It is not strange that the fact of sex is one of the 
 dominating factors in human history. Taking its rise in 
 the earliest forms of life, as an alternative to other forms 
 of reproduction, it soon becomes a normal differentiation 
 of function. The sexual instincts evolve side by side with 
 the changes in structure. Whatever the forms of court- 
 ship or of union, the fundamental facts, when studied 
 under the microscope, are everywhere strangely similar. 
 In Man, as in the plants and animals that share his world, 
 the sperm brings to the egg the stimulus to reproduction. 
 Each contributes one-half of the factors which determine 
 the character of the new life. And at once, through the 
 action of God's physico-chemical forces, there begins in the 
 body of the mother that marvellous development by which 
 the single fertilized cell becomes a complete reproduction 
 of the parents, able to take its part in the creation of the 
 world. No act is more sacred, more essentially religious. 
 As Bryan Hooker sings, of the fathers dead in the World 
 War: 
 
 For the flower from the clod emerging 
 And the fire from the cloud released. 
 
 For the wife that is more than virgin 
 And the man that is more than beast; 
 
 For the spirit in strange communion 
 With earth, yet more than earth — 
 
 but very much less developed. If the Universe has changed from 
 Monism to Pluralism, as human activities seem to show, we might 
 expect the differentiation to be by gradual steps. 
 
68 CHAOS OE COSMOS? 
 
 The mystery of union. 
 
 The miracle of birth — 
 For these, and what holier dreaming 
 
 Our dust and its deeds have meant, 
 You are the blood redeeming — 
 
 You are the Sacrament. 
 
 Jesus' practical emphasis on the sacredness of marriage 
 and sexual passion finds expression in Paul's words, that 
 the human body is a temple of the Holy Spirit, never to be 
 desecrated or defiled. The sex impulse is to be controlled, 
 and if necessary subordinated and diverted. But it is to 
 be used, not outlawed. Biology has strengthened rather 
 than weakened this position. Religion stands on solid 
 ground when it considers every union of sperm and egg 
 cells the creation of a new life, sacred as all human life is 
 sacred, whose wilful destruction is murder, and when it 
 regards any such union of cells that does not aim at repro- 
 duction as a sin against God the Creator. The act itself 
 has been a prayer for the creation of a new life. So great 
 is the responsibility for this share in the creative act, 
 that it demands the wisest planning, and the freest and 
 fullest cooperation. The prevention of conception follows 
 of necessity, if we recognize that voluntary and temperate 
 intercourse in marriage, the sharing of mutual passion 
 with one another and with God, is an act of worship, of 
 the highest moral and spiritual value. 
 
 The facts indicate that this principle of sex relations, 
 given by Jesus, is a law written into the very structure of 
 the Universe. Every instinct has a biological value, and 
 that of sexual desire is linked with God in the Divine 
 work of creation. The parity of the sexes in monogamous 
 marriage, and the restriction of intercourse to those who 
 enter this relation, is the result of a long series of experi- 
 ments in the history of the race. Wherever the principle 
 of creative cooperation has been followed, it has meant 
 the moral elevation of manhood, of womanhood, of child- 
 
THE MAKING OF MAN 69 
 
 hood. Wherever it has been disobeyed, in loose sexual 
 relations or in prostitution, the result has been the degra- 
 dation of a vast multitude of women, the loss of self-control 
 and physical virility in men, and a spread of sexual disease 
 that has lowered the birth-rate and left a heritage of dis- 
 eased or abnormal offspring. That which is one of the 
 primal religious impulses degenerates into lust and ob- 
 scenity. Failure to adjust ourselves to the Universe, 
 through the proper functioning of the sex instinct, is sin, 
 and the wages of sin is death. The removal of the causes 
 of prostitution and abnormal desire, the sublimation of this 
 natural impulse, the opening of other channels for its 
 expression — this is one of the greatest tasks which a Chris- 
 tian civilization faces. ^ 
 
 We hear much today of the science of Eugenics. It will 
 be well for us to consider both its possibilities and its 
 limits. 
 
 There are laws of heredity in the Universe, just as truly 
 as there are laws of chemical combination or physical stress. 
 What is present in the germ plasm of the parents will 
 reappear in their children. Conversely, we cannot trans- 
 mit anything that we do not ourselves possess. The char- 
 acters and abilities acquired by father and mother in the 
 course of their lives, do not modify the germ and sperm 
 cells, and so cannot be handed on. From our present evi- 
 dence, it seems probable that the embryo is not definitely 
 affected by the environment, except through malnutrition 
 or direct poisoning. The child will start at birth about 
 where its parents started at their birth. 
 
 *Jane Addams, The Spirit of Youth and the City Streets, 1909; 
 A. A. Brill, Psychoanalysis, 2nd ed., 1914. For other subjects 
 treated in this chapter, see W. J. Robinson, Birth Control, 1917 ; 
 Paul Popenoe and R. J. Johnson, Applied Eugenics, 1918, somewhat 
 polemical in tone, but judicious and avoiding the errors of previous 
 works; E. G. Conkljn, Heredity and Environment, 1915; Franz 
 Boas, Mind of Primitive Man, 1911; John B. Watson, Behavior, 
 1914; Chas. W. Waddle, Introd. to Child Psychology, 1918; Wm. 
 McDougall, Social Psychology, 13th ed., 1918; Maurice Parmelee^ 
 Science of Huma/n Behavior, 1913. 
 
70 CHAOS OE COSMOS? 
 
 Thus far it has not been possible to resolve into definite 
 factors the many complex influences which determine the 
 inheritance of physical and mental traits. We know too 
 little to lay down definite rules such as those used by the 
 plant or animal breeder. All we can say is that the re- 
 sponsibility for healthy mating rests heavily upon the in- 
 dividual and upon Society. Other things being equal, the 
 child which at birth is the most perfect physical animal 
 has a better chance all through its life. 
 
 Studies of American school children, and later of sol- 
 diers, by the Binet-Simon and other tests, have shown a 
 very wide range of intelligence, grading all the way from 
 idiocy to genius, the greatest number coming near the mid- 
 dle of the scale. Counting 100 as normal, Terman found 
 2% of school children testing 128 or above, 2% testing 
 73 or below, and 60% ranging from 91 to 110. Similar 
 results have appeared when tests were made for special 
 lines of mental ability. Temperament probably varies in 
 the same way, though an adequate system of classification 
 is not at hand. Proper allowance must be made for other 
 contributing factors. But the differences appear to be in 
 the main congenital. From a biological standpoint, all 
 men are not created equal. 
 
 Differences in temperament and mental ability are not 
 correlated with physical features, in normal cases. They 
 must be attributed to independent series of mutations. 
 Every so-called "race" is composed of an almost unlimited 
 number of strains. The same climatic influences or geo- 
 graphic isolation which brought about the average differ- 
 ences in physical type, might result in average differences 
 in temperament and intelligence. 
 
 Doubtless man's evolution is continuous. Favorable, 
 and unfavorable, mutations and recombinations may occur 
 here and there, in any group. Each person born is a new 
 individual type. But the net result is the same. There 
 will be no Supermen. The success of government and mis- 
 sion schools among the lowest savage tribes, indicates that 
 
THE MAKING OF MAN 71 
 
 the mean intelligence of Homo Sapiens has not been raised 
 by any process of natural selection.^ Intelligence varies 
 the world over because it always has varied, and such dif- 
 ferences are inherited. Present deviations from the mean 
 are not altered by immigration, but only redistributed. We 
 hope for more children from the more intelligent indi- 
 viduals and groups, and fewer children from the less intel- 
 ligent. Civilization needs leaders, and it needs the high- 
 est possible average. But any healthy strain has valuable 
 contributions to make to the human capital of the Uni- 
 verse. 
 
 Statistical studies bear out the statement that the mean 
 intelligence of the race remains at about the same level. 
 Although the mating of persons of high or low intelligence 
 may raise or lower the average for several generations, the 
 "drag" of previous ancestry and intermarriage with other 
 grades tend to bring the group back toward the mean. 
 In the statistical laws of inheritance worked out by Pear- 
 son, the expected contribution of the parents is given as 
 .6244. That of grandparents is .1988, and of great- 
 grandparents .0630. As stated by East and Jones, "the 
 brightest examples of inherent mental ability have come 
 and will come from chance mating in the general popula- 
 tion, the common people so-called, because of the variability 
 there existent.'^ ^ The task of Eugenics is to encourage 
 the reproduction of those members of society who show 
 superior mental traits, and to check the reproduction of 
 those whose mental power is abnormally low. To work for 
 either of these ends is aid in the Divine work of creation. 
 The problem cannot be met merely by selective mating, 
 and the willingness of superior stocks to bear offspring. 
 It involves the whole range of social questions. War en- 
 ters into it, as do commerce and taxation. We must also 
 pay attention to housing, health, the relation between in- 
 
 •To give a single example, Porteua' tests of aboriginal children 
 in Australia show an average deviation of only five months from 
 the standard for whites. PsycJiol. Review, 24, 32, 1917. 
 
 * Inbreeding and Outhreedingy 1919, 244. 
 
72 CHAOS OR COSMOS? 
 
 comes and cost of living, education, opportunities for socilil 
 life, and the proper treatment of defectives and delin- 
 quents. 
 
 But tlie making of Man has only begun at birth. These 
 individuals, of many physical types, with various tem- 
 peraments, with different degrees of congenital mental 
 capacity, are so much raw material which Society is to 
 mold into the finished product. The child is born with a 
 completed body, but a very incomplete brain. His nerve- 
 cells, or neurones, are in place, with all their latent poten- 
 tialities. Some of them are fully developed, making pos- 
 sible the instinctive reflexes of the new-bom child. But 
 the majority, especially the neurones of the cerebral hemi- 
 spheres, are yet unfinished. They must extend their 
 branches, and develop their insulating sheaths. The asso- 
 ciation neurones, which have appeared latest in the his- 
 tory of evolution, will be the last to complete their growth. 
 Although this development is largely carried out by God, 
 along the lines laid down by heredity, the plasticity of the 
 child brain gives the individual and those responsible for 
 his training a chance for cooperation of the most definite 
 kind. 
 
 The fundamental distinction between man and his first 
 cousins among the higher mammals, like the gorilla and 
 chimpanzee, is not in physical features, or in the size and 
 arrangement of the brain. It lies rather in what man is 
 able to teach his brain to do, by virtue of his inheriting a 
 well developed speech mechanism. In early infancy, the 
 child trains certain centers in his left brain, if he is 
 right-handed, or in his right brain, if he is left-handed; 
 for the training is done largely through the use of the hand 
 in feeling and gesturing. By the training of these centers, 
 he is able to name his mental recepts and achieve ideas 
 and spoken words, as the gorilla cannot. He learns to 
 write, to play musical instruments, to operate elaborate 
 machines. The gorilla species, in other respects, has prac- 
 tically as good machinery in the brain as the human 
 
THE MAKING OF MAN 73 
 
 species. But being without a speech mechanism in throat 
 and brain, it lacks the power, and always did lack the 
 power, and always will, to develop the rest of the cerebral 
 machinery and put it to the fullest use. The normal 
 human baby possesses that power. He will inevitably 
 become a thinking being. He persists in training his 
 hands. We could not prevent him from talking, even if he 
 must make a language of his own. 
 
 This distinguishing feature in Man, the training of one 
 of the hemispheres of the brain, takes place after birth. 
 It continues for about sixteen years, and to some extent 
 through life. For each individual, the limits of such 
 training are set by heredity. But the training itself is a 
 matter of environment, of the child's surroundings and 
 schooling. Up to the point where development is possible, 
 man makes his own brain. He shapes his own character. 
 He determines his own relations with the Universe. As 
 Dr. Thompson has said: "While all individuals of our 
 race are not born with equally good brains, yet the fact 
 remains that the special mental capacities for which cer- 
 tain men have become eminent were all acquired and were 
 not congenital." ^ 
 
 All education must be self -education. But the guiding 
 of it is a sacred function, a cooperation with God in the 
 greatest of all tasks. A pedagogical revolution is slowly 
 going forward, due to the iafluence of Kousseau, Froebel 
 and Pestalozzi. Education is coming to be a process of 
 natural growth, rather than the acquiring of a certain 
 amount of information. It is not "something to be forced 
 upon children and youth from without, but is the growth 
 of capacities with which human beings are endowed at 
 birth." « 
 
 ■ Wm. M. Thomson, Bram cmd Personality, 1908, 233. 
 
 'John and Evelyn Dewey, SchooU of Tomorrow, 1915, 2. See 
 also John Dewey, Democracy and Education, 1916; E. L. Thorn- 
 dike, Educational Psychol., 1913; Frank N. Freeman, How Children 
 Learn, 1917; E. P. Cubberley, Public Education in the U. 8., 1919; 
 Alexander Inglis, Prm'a of Secondary Eduction, 1918. 
 
74 CHAOS OK COSMOS? 
 
 To fail in developing the full capacity of any human 
 child, of whatever race, is to block the work of creation, 
 or leave it only half completed. Terman's studies show 
 that individuals with an Intelligence Quotient of 70 
 may reach a mental age of 11, or an equivalent of fifth 
 grade work in school. An I. Q. of 80 represents a mental 
 age of 12^2? or seventh grade. "A large proportion of the 
 tasks in the modern organization of industries can be as 
 well performed by individuals of the 70 or 75 I. Q. 
 class as by those of superior intelligence, and with more 
 satisfaction in the performance. Mentality of eleven years 
 is ample for ordinary kinds of unskilled labor, and many 
 of the semi-skilled trades are within reach of those who 
 test a year or two higher. To make the most of this 
 grade of ability, however, it must be trained. For chil- 
 dren who test below 75 or 80 I. Q., genuine vocational 
 training should largely replace the usual curriculum of 
 the Upper grammar grades." He instances M., a Portu- 
 guese boy, leaving school at 16, after struggling painfully 
 through the sixth grade. His mental age is 10%, and 
 his Intelligence Quotient 72. He cannot be rated as feeble- 
 minded. "About ordinary affairs his judgment is depend- 
 able, and he is steady, industrious and anxious to make 
 good. There are probably many kinds of semi-skilled work 
 in which he could succeed. For none of these has he 
 received any preparation. Aiter nine years in school, he 
 faces the world with no vocational asset but his God-given 
 brawn. There are approximately a million children like 
 M. in the public schools of the United States." "^ 
 
 Vocational training has a broader aspect. All children, 
 of lower or higher intelligence, need guidance in their 
 choice of a life work, and adequate preparation for it. 
 They must learn to adjust themselves to the present indus- 
 trial and democratic era. There is a growing feeling 
 among progressive educators that the mere trade school 
 does not meet the situation. The demands of industry 
 
 'L. M. Terman, Intelligence of School Children, 1919, 133 /. 
 
THE MAKING OF MAN 76 
 
 and of citizenship cannot be met without broad and uni- 
 versal equipment. ^The democracy which proclaims 
 equality of opportunity as its ideal requires an education 
 in which learning and social application, ideas and prac- 
 tice, work and recognition of the meaning of what is done, 
 are united from the beginning and for all." ^ 
 
 In this cooperative task, the influence of the home, of 
 the church, of the play life, of associates and surroundings, 
 must rank with that of the trained teacher. We are com- 
 ing to learn that the making of man is an extremely com- 
 plex process, involving a constant interaction between hu- 
 man instincts craving expression, and the social environ- 
 ment which encourages or hinders such expression. Take, 
 for example, Parker's analysis of the Western hobo. "The 
 history of the migratory workers shows that starting with 
 the long hours and dreary winters of the farms they ran 
 away from, or the sour-smelling bunk-house in a coal 
 village, through their character-debasing experience with 
 the drifting ^ire and fire' life in the industries, on to the 
 vicious social and economic life of the winter unemployed, 
 their training predetermined but one outcome, and the en- 
 vironment produced its type." ^ Eepression of the natural 
 instincts of children and adults is fraught with grave dan- 
 ger to Society as well as to the subject. It leads either to 
 weakness, inefficiency and moral debasement; or compen- 
 sation is sought in some more or less violent form of 
 revolt. 
 
 Since man became man, 400,000 years ago, the real 
 evolution of the race, as we shall see in the following 
 chapters, has been the evolution of social equipment: the 
 gathering of an increasing store of ideas and experience, 
 of tools, institutions, customs, outlets for expression, which 
 are at the service of each child born into the tribe or 
 nation. Herein lies the primary advantage of the civilized 
 
 ^Schools of Tomorrow, 315. See later p. 205. For Vocational 
 Guidance: Meyer Bloomfield, Youth, School and Vocation, 1915. 
 •Carleton H. Parker, The Casual Laborer, 1920, 123. 
 
76 CHAOS OE COSMOS? 
 
 child, at its best, over the savage, of the child from a good 
 home over the child from the slum, or the backwoods. It 
 is bom into an inheritance larger, richer, more fitted to 
 express man's instinctive desires and reactions, and des- 
 tined to become still better and more general, as God's 
 partners in Creation rise up to mold the conditions under 
 which children are bom, and men and women live their 
 lives. 
 
 In regard to many points in this chapter, there may be 
 difference of opinion. But the differences would affect the 
 distribution of the several factors involved, rather than the 
 general situation. The making of Man is not an event but 
 a process. And in that process the human race has a 
 definite and responsible share. At any point, men are able 
 to alter the creative work, to check it or reverse it. Crea- 
 tion, instead of being completed at a certain prehistoric 
 date, is going on before our eyes. The hundred million 
 years of organic evolution, which gave us man's body, 
 are as nothing compared with the cooperative evolution 
 in the life of each human child, which gives us his mind, 
 trained or untrained, stunted and warped and marred, or 
 developed and broadened and ennobled. 
 
vin. 
 
 BUILDING THE WORLD OF THOUGHT. 
 
 When I enter the University Library, I have a realizing 
 sense of the powers of the human mind. On the shelves 
 are books and periodicals ranging over the whole field 
 of human interest. Each year new knowledge is added 
 to the rapidly growing accumulation. Scientific reviews 
 record from month to month the work of thousands of 
 investigators, in every civilized country. 
 
 Man has not been content to take the world for granted. 
 His mental adjustment to the Universe has been of a 
 very active kind. There is nothing to suggest the unfold- 
 ing of a Universal Mind, the varied consciousness of one 
 instantaneous Knower, a mosaic of Thought whose pat- 
 tern is eternally complete in what Koyce terms "the unity 
 of the Absolute Experience." The picture we gain is 
 rather that of a multitude of independent creators, slowly 
 becoming acquainted with the Universe in which they are 
 placed, and building out of it a world of objects and values 
 and laws. Man does not make the Universe, but he makes 
 it known. ^ 
 
 Let us look more closely at the nature of this adjust- 
 ment. It begins in a most practical fashion. The world 
 in which man lives contains various forces and bodies with 
 which he comes in contact. Light waves, impinging on 
 
 *Any one wishing to follow further the themes treated in this 
 chapter might consult with profit: W. B. Pillsbury, Fundamentals 
 of Psychology, 1916; James R. Angell, Psychology, 1904; Hugo 
 Mjiinsterberg, Psychology, 1914; C. S. Sherrington, Integrative Ac- 
 tion of the Nervous System, 1911; Boris Sidis, Foundations of Nor- 
 mal and Abnormal Psychol., 1914; Joseph Jastrow, The Suhcorir 
 scious, 1906; Kate Gordon, Esthetics, 1909. 
 
 77 
 
78 CHAOS OE COSMOS? 
 
 these bodies, are reflected toward him. Through the evolu- 
 tion of his animal ancestors in such a world, the human 
 child inherits machinery for receiving and recording such 
 contacts with the Universe, and reacting to them in definite 
 ways. Innumerable reactions teach him to correlate these 
 sense impressions, to compare them, to generalize them 
 into recepts and concepts. And by means of these con- 
 •cepts, which language makes it possible to name, he forms 
 his interpretation of the world, in terms of things and 
 their qualities. This interpretation is so familiar that we 
 are likely to take it for granted, regard it as preordained 
 and always existing. On the contrary, it is man's own 
 creation, a mental mechanism, a series of intellectual short- 
 cuts, which enable him to know the Universe and adapt 
 himself to it. The Universe supplies the raw material for 
 thought: light and sound waves, forces and masses, rela- 
 tions and sequences. Man works up this raw material into 
 objects and attributes, judgments of value, associations, 
 inferences. It is a very real cooperation between Man 
 and his Environment. The correspondence of our ideas 
 with the external world is not a preestablished but an 
 achieved harmony. 
 
 What a mighty creation is a word. What magic power 
 it brings. To pick out an object from experience, or the 
 experience itself, make an abstraction of it, choose a cer- 
 tain sound to be its name. Merely by speaking that 
 name, to call up in the minds of one's fellows a picture 
 of the object, with all its dreaded or desired qualities. To 
 name a thing, to have an idea of it, is to detach it from 
 the confused unknown, to gain a certain advantage over it, 
 to possess it, to make it a stepping-stone to other dis- 
 coveries and possessions. The idea is man's own, having 
 no existence until he formed it, with no meaning except 
 such as he chooses to give. The word was not, until, 
 by the exercise of a god-like power, man spoke and it be- 
 gan to be, as his messenger and servant. And through 
 these simple but serviceable tools of thought, shared as part 
 
BUILDING THE WOELD OF THOUGHT n 
 
 of the conunon stock of horde or tribe, and constantly 
 increased and perfected by new experiences, the savage is 
 able to live his life, to predict the future, to subdue the 
 earth to his need, to develop customs and institutions and 
 sagas and myths. 
 
 And Civilization is merely the improvement of these 
 same mental tools, which the race has been using for some 
 400,000 years. We still pick out certain facts of experi- 
 ence, which are revealed to us through our God-given 
 sense impressions, and call tiiem things, attributing to 
 them certain qualities and behavior. We still create new 
 names for new experiences. But the rapid accumulation 
 of knowledge, recorded now in written and printed speech, 
 has not only increased our supply of tools. It has enabled 
 us to use them more accurately. We have formed new 
 abstractions, and made wider generalizations. We group 
 our experiences into general laws. By means of these 
 laws, which are as truly man's creation as the first spoken 
 word, we are able to make new predictions, to know the 
 forces of the Universe and harness them for our use, to 
 test and correct our sense impressions, to construct physical 
 mechanisms that open the way to further power and 
 achievement, to expand sagas into literatures, and myths 
 into philosophies. Man has begun to know and utilize 
 the Universe. But it is only a beginning. A hundred 
 years hence the books on our library shelves, as a picture 
 of the real world, will seem as crude as the books of a 
 century ago appear to the scholars of today. 
 
 Knowledge is a means to an end, and that end is man's 
 adjustment to the Universe. We must know it, for we live 
 in it. We must know its physical forces before we can 
 harness them. We must know its moral forces, before we 
 can shape our lives and our institutions aright. Of this 
 I shall speak at length in the closing section of our book. 
 With the growing specialization in scientific research and 
 teaching, there is grave danger that we shall lose sight 
 of the Universe itself, of which these subjects are but 
 
80 CHAOS OR COSMOS? 
 
 "abstracted phases and elements." The aim of a finished 
 education, as Small pointed out over twenty years ago, is 
 "conscious conformity of individuals to the coherent cos- 
 mic reality of which they are parts. Until our pedagogy 
 rests upon a more intelligent cosmic foundation, and espe- 
 cially upon a more complete synthesis of social philosophy, 
 we can hardly expect curricula to correspond with the 
 essential conditions to which human action must learn to 
 conform." ^ 
 
 The cooperation between Man and God in mental labor 
 has an even more intimate phase. Activity of the brain 
 represents a definite transformation of energy. A stimulus 
 is transmitted along the branches of a neurone, and across 
 the gaps that separate it from other neurones. The neces- 
 sary energy must be supplied by the oxidation of carbon 
 in the nerve cell proper. Active thought means increased 
 blood pressure and temperature on the surface of the brain. 
 Thus all mental processes may be considered as joint 
 operations, between the thinker who initiates or controls 
 the train of thought, and the Universe whose forces make 
 such activity possible. 
 
 Our mental life may be passive as well as active, in- 
 volving no conscious effort and no noticeable increase in 
 blood pressure. In fact, by far the larger part of it is of 
 this character. Probably the neurones of the brain cortex 
 are in a state of incessant activity, even during the hours 
 of sleep. They are constantly transforming energy and 
 transmitting stimuli. Just what proportion of the result- 
 ing thought product is contributed respectively by God 
 and by man, we do not know. It is clear that man, in 
 his thought life, whether active or passive, is intimately 
 dependent on the Universe. But while much of his think- 
 ing appears to be done for him, in the subconscious opera- 
 tions of the brain, the man himself, in his conscious per- 
 sonality, makes a definite contribution to the final result. 
 
 Every person engaged in literature or research learns 
 
 •Albion W. Small, Am, J. of Sooiol., 2, 840, 1897. 
 
BUILDING THE WORLD OF THOUGHT 81 
 
 to distinguish these two kinds of mental operations. Dur- 
 ing his waking hours, he is conscious of having certain 
 experiences, of talking with other men, of reading printed 
 pages, of making definite experiments, of wrestling with 
 problems of thought or expression. But all this time, be- 
 neath the threshold of consciousness, another stream of 
 mental life is flowing. It is fed bj his conscious thinking 
 and experience, charged with images, ideas, impressions. 
 The subconscious life, while preserving these intact as 
 memories (or whatever lies at the basis of memory), also 
 digests and develops them. And from this second stream 
 of mental activity, as from a subterranean river, thoughts 
 keep rising into consciousness. They may be mere feelings 
 and prejudices. They may be remembered scenes or words. 
 Sometimes the resurgence takes the form of matured 
 ideas or new forms of phrasing. In my own experience, I 
 wrestle for days over a problem, or leave a piece of work 
 half finished and unsatisfying. After retiring for the 
 night, or in the morning when only half awake, the prob- 
 lem is solved for me, the troublesome paragraph started 
 with one or two telling sentences. The inspiration may 
 come in the day time — when walking along the street, 
 listening to a sermon, busy with mechanical tasks, work- 
 ing in my study on an entirely different subject. All my 
 writing, when thoughts flow freely, seems like the work 
 of an amanuensis, putting on paper the ideas that crowd 
 up from the "undermind." 
 
 Probably all intuition and inspiration, in religion or 
 literature, in science or practical affairs, is of this charac- 
 ter. Literary history furnishes some extreme cases. Many 
 of my readers are doubtless familiar with the story of Julia 
 Ward Howe's Battle Hymn of the Republic. The visit to 
 the Virginia battle-fields late in JsTovember, 1861. The 
 singing of "John Brown's Body" on the slow drive home. 
 James Freeman Clarke's suggestion that she write new 
 words to that good air. Waking in the gray dawn of the 
 following morning, the lines of the Battle Hymn formed 
 
82 CHAOS OK COSMOS? 
 
 themselves in her mind. Fearful lest she should forget 
 them she seized pen and paper, and scrawled the words 
 almost without seeing what she did. When Mrs. Howe 
 rose at daylight and dressed herself, she had no recollection 
 of what had passed. Seeing some writing on the tahle 
 she took it up, and recognized the words of her own poem : 
 "Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the 
 Lord." 3 
 
 Elliot has called attention to Herhert Spencer's "extraor- 
 dinary power to see the essential elements in any hetero- 
 geneous mixture of events. He carved out a principle, 
 which immediately introduced order and method, where 
 previously there had heen nothing but a hopeless jumble. 
 . . . His methods of thinking and writing were wholly 
 conformable with his character. He no more thought of 
 sitting down to think than he thought of sitting down 
 to read. In the course of promiscuous idling he would 
 come across some significant fact or idea, which very 
 likely he would temporarily forget. But later on it would 
 be liable to turn up in his mind again, well on the way to 
 being a full-fledged principle. And once the principle got 
 rooted, relevant facts would come flying from all quar- 
 ters, until on all that subject quite a considerable amount 
 of knowledge had been more or less unintentionally accu- 
 mulated. These processes apparently occurred with spe- 
 cial strength while taking walks : on these occasions he was 
 often absent-minded and noticed little of what was going 
 on about him. He had of course immense natural con; 
 centration, but it was never brought on by an effort of 
 will. His method of writing was of the same kind. The 
 written matter flowed naturally from him, without con- 
 scious effort, and it was very little revised after being 
 written. Unlike John Stuart Mill, who wrote out his 
 
 * Bookman, 32, 306, 1910. Francis Colton's version, also from 
 Mrs. Howe herself, adds some interesting particulars; Current Lit., 
 49, 677, 1910. 
 
BUILDINa THE WORLD OF THOUGHT 83 
 
 Logic many times before he was satisfied with it, Spencer 
 never re-wrote." ^ 
 
 Mill's method of work is far more common. I have 
 cited these exaggerated cases, because they bring out a 
 process that is going on to some extent in all mental 
 activity. The success of the thinker depends on his main- 
 taining right relations between the conscious and the sub- 
 conscious. To neglect or starve the subconscious leads to 
 mental sterility. At the other extreme, the failure to 
 control one's intuitions means weak or illogical generaliza- 
 tion, somewhat parallel with the unchecked freedom of the 
 subconscious in our dreams. 
 
 In successful thinking, the conscious personality does 
 three principal things. In the first place it feeds the sub- 
 conscious, by wide observation or reading. Mrs. Howe's 
 poem grew out of long study of the best literary forms, and 
 the brooding of a great personality over the crisis of her 
 nation. Spencer's general laws came from a mind packed 
 with miscellaneous information. Inspiration on a prob- 
 lem comes only after a period of hard study on that prob- 
 lem. Secondly, subconscious operations, to be fruitful, 
 require the constant practice of similar conscious opera- 
 tions. The Battle Hymn resulted from the writing of 
 many previous poems. Spencer's particular line of work 
 had become an inveterate habit, which enlarged our knowl- 
 edge in various fields. The third function of conscious- 
 ness is definite control. ITew ideas are likely to spring up 
 capriciously and without effort. To utilize an idea, how- 
 ever, to develop and phrase it properly, ordinarily re- 
 quires the focussing of attention on that idea to the exclu- 
 sion of everything else. Long practice makes it possible 
 even to regulate the flow of ideas, so that the subcon- 
 scious may be trained to work for us along one consciously 
 chosen line. Mental enrichment, practice and concen- 
 tration are the conditions of good thinking, and the at- 
 
 *Hugh S. R. Elliot, Herhert Spenoer, 1917, 62. 
 
84 CHAOS OR COSMOS? 
 
 taininent of these three things should be the goal of all 
 education. Whether subconscious ideas are at times in- 
 spired directly by the God who is back of all the opera- 
 tions of the Universe, it is impossible to prove or disprove. 
 The religious attitude of calmness and confidence, however, 
 is conducive to the best thinking. 
 
 The constructive work of the human mind is shown 
 most clearly in the field of Art. All aesthetic pleasure has 
 a physical basis. Light waves of different lengths give 
 rise to the sensations of color. And colors and their com- 
 binations have a varying emotional accompaniment. The 
 pleasurable sensations of tone and overtone are due to the 
 primary and secondary vibrations produced in the air by a 
 sonorous body. A combination of tones is more enjoyable 
 when the vibrations are in a certain ratio, as in the 1 to 
 2 of the octave, or the 3 to 4 of the fourth. The pleasure 
 in bodily or vocal rhythm is largely muscular in origin. 
 It is probable that line drawing and symmetrical arrange- 
 ment bring a similar bodily reaction, what Grosse calls 
 "sympathetic reproduction." As man lived his life, and 
 found his varied activities bringing him these pleasurable 
 sensations, he came to reproduce them for their own sake. 
 He developed art, in order to objectify his emotion and 
 express it to his fellows.^ We see the beginning of the 
 process in the rhythm of savage dances and songs. Through 
 the manipulation of line and color, men were able to make 
 pictures, as on the cave walls of prehistoric France, that 
 would inspire definite suggestions and emotions. Still 
 later came the use of simple tone combinations in crude 
 musical instruments, recitative, and choral singing. 
 
 All art is social in origin and in expression. Histor- 
 ically man does not find beauty in the sounds or objects 
 of the world around him. He makes satisfying tones or 
 pictures, and later begins to apply his idea of beauty to 
 !N'ature itself. The beauty is not, as with Hegel, an expres- 
 sion of the Absolute Thought in the concrete facts of the 
 
 •Y. Hirn, Origins of Art, 1900, 301. 
 
BUILDING THE WORLD OF THOUGHT 85 
 
 world. It is rather a mental synthesis by the individual 
 man, the product of his creative imagination. What we 
 shall call beautiful is a social standard, determined by the 
 taste of the group to which we belong.^ The modem artist 
 uses the same physical media as the savage, and for the 
 same end. He seeks to give his artistic feelings an outlet, 
 in a form that may be shared by others. He expresses 
 emotion in the art language, and by the alphabet of signs, 
 which the world has learned to read. With the growth 
 of knowledge and taste, the improvements in mechanism 
 and technique, man's creative power has attained a new 
 perfection of harmony in tone or color or form, a fulness of 
 emotional expression. 
 
 The artist differs from the average man in degree rather 
 than in kind. We see a strong emotional temperament, 
 and an unusual power of imagination, whether auditory, 
 visual, or motor. Acquaintance with standard forms 
 strengthens this primary endowment. Practice brings the 
 artist his power of concentration. His mind is constantly 
 creating, even when the creation is subconscious. Mozart's 
 trained faculty enabled him to think in terms of musical 
 compositions. The quintette in the Magic Flute is said 
 to have come to him while playing a game of billiards. 
 Croce tells us how "Leonardo shocked the prior of the con- 
 vent delle Grazie by standing for days together opposite 
 the ^Last Supper' without touching it with his brush. He 
 remarked of this attitude ^that men of the most lofty genius, 
 when they are doing the least work, are then the most 
 active, seeking invention with their minds.' The painter 
 is a painter, because he sees what others only feel or catch 
 a glimpse of, but do not see." "^ But all appreciation of 
 music or painting is essentially creative. The power vested 
 in trained minds makes it possible for them to reproduce 
 the synthesis first given by the artistic genius. 
 
 •James H. Tufts, Genesis of Aesthetic Categories, Univ. of Chi- 
 cago Pub's, 1903, vol. 3. 
 
 'B. Croce, Theory of Aesthetic, Eng. trans., 1909, 16. 
 
86 CHAOS OE COSMOS? 
 
 I have tried in this and the preceding chapter to steer a 
 safe course between the various psychological schools. Our 
 real interest has been in the product of thought, rather 
 than the process. Whatever particular theories we may 
 hold as to the conscious and the subconscious mental life, 
 two facts stand out in clear relief. The first is contingency. 
 The second is the power of independent creation. The 
 philosopher in his study, the business man in his office, the 
 workman at his lathe, the surgeon at the operating table, 
 the artist, the musician — all are absolutely dependent on 
 God. Apart from the Universe itself, without the energy 
 exchanges in the brain cells, the nerve reactions, and per- 
 haps the direct inspiration, their work would be impossible. 
 But their work does change the result. Men are able to 
 control their mental resources. By making and utilizing 
 ideas and laws, they add something that was not on the 
 earth before. They make man's adjustment more com- 
 plete, his life more satisfying. A writer in Science 
 Progress has branded as intellectual criminals "those who 
 remain ignorant when they should learn, thoughtless when 
 they should think, and sunk in superstitions when they 
 should reason." ^ If Julia Ward Howe and Herbert Spen- 
 cer and Da Vinci and Mozart had not lived, if they had 
 developed lesser personalities, or failed to train their 
 powers and use them to the full, the modem world would 
 lose a heritage of patriotism and truth and beauty. 
 •11, 136, 1916. 
 
IX. 
 
 COMPLETING THE PHYSICAI. WORLD. 
 
 To a certain extent the physical Universe is complete. 
 Its laws do not change. The action of forces is definite, 
 uniform, predictable. Two separated bodies always tend 
 to gravitate together. Everywhere light travels in a 
 vacuum a certain number of miles a second. The same 
 number of electrons, grouped in the same way about a 
 nucleus of positive electricity, show the properties of an 
 atom of oxygen. Why natural forces should act in this 
 way and not otherwise, we do not know. "I accept the 
 Universe," said Margaret Fuller. There is no alternative. 
 
 The world of ^N'ature being arranged in a particular way, 
 our first duty is one of adaptation. Whether the present 
 order is due to design, or whether organisms are fitted to 
 the earth because they have developed in response to its 
 conditions, this planet is a good place for man to live. He 
 needs only to know his environment and adjust himself to 
 it And such honest, faithful, courageous adjustment is a 
 cooperation of man with the Universe. 
 
 The uniformity of action in this sphere is of immense 
 advantaga In fact, our life would be impossible on any 
 other basis. How long could we exist in a world of dis- 
 order, where the succession of the seasons could not be pre- 
 dicted, where combustion was really spontaneous instead of 
 following fixed laws, where sometimes chemical elements 
 would combine, and at other times, under exactly the same 
 conditions, combination failed ? Such a world might suit 
 the savage, but for civilized man it would be a bad dream ; 
 it could not be a reality. 
 
 87 
 
88 CHAOS OR COSMOS? 
 
 As Koosevelt has said, the forces of ITature do not 
 threaten ; they operate. It is no ground for complaint that 
 fire bums and cold freezes. Those who live in an earth- 
 quake belt, must expect occasional earthquakes. Those 
 who live where cyclones occur, accept the risk of having 
 property and perhaps life destroyed by this means. If a 
 man builds his home at the foot of a live volcano, and the 
 volcano erupts and buries the man and his family under a 
 mass of lava, the man is responsible, not the Universe. In 
 any part of the world, the rainfall or snowfall, the alterna- 
 tions of heat or cold, while varying from year to year, 
 vary only within definite limits. Those who do not like 
 that average rainfall or that temperature range, are free 
 to move elsewhere. We witness many such hegiras, espe- 
 cially among the well-to-do. But in history the average 
 family, instead of fleeing from conditions, has adapted it- 
 self to them. Through the use of fire and clothing, pre- 
 historic man was able to leave the tropics and follow the 
 receding glaciers, like the animals that he hunted. Emi- 
 gration, after filling the more, fertile areas of the tem- 
 perate zone, has swept on into less favored regions. Men 
 have learned to wrest a living from apparently barren soil, 
 and even to irrigate the desert. Famine and disaster have 
 taken an awful toll. But the conquest of the earth through 
 adaptation, has trained the race in courage, in endurance, 
 in resourcefulness, in thrift. I have seen this process at 
 first hand, both among the 'New England hills and on one 
 of the last timber frontiers of the West. The virility of 
 the American is still the virility of the pioneer and his 
 descendants. The strongest of our immigrants are those 
 who in the Old World wrestled with I^ature as Jacob 
 wrestled with God for His blessing. That Man has suc- 
 ceeded in his adjustment to the Universe, is shown by the 
 vastness of the earth's present population, and its spread 
 from the Equator to the Arctic circles. 
 
 But Man has not merely adapted himself to the earth as 
 he finds it His mental equipment has enabled him to de- 
 
COMPLETING THE PHYSICAL WORLD 89 
 
 velop and complete the earth. He has shared the Divine 
 task of physical creation. The first tools and weapons were 
 levers with which to move the world, and provide a richer 
 and more dependable livelihood. The economic evolution 
 of primitive man is one of the most fascinating stories 
 in the history of the race. Invention and accumulation 
 make for the advance of certain tribes, only to be wiped 
 out again by disease or war. After many thousand years, a 
 definite advance is registered in the domestication of the 
 cow and the sheep, the development of agriculture, such 
 arts as pottery and weaving. Weapons and tools are im- 
 proved. Mines and factories are opened, for working flint 
 and other valued articles. Houses become more elaborate. 
 Such engineering feats are attempted as the circle of Stone- 
 henge. As population grows denser, Man^s creative adjust- 
 ment to the physical world, always social in its character, 
 becomes more highly organized. Bronze implements are 
 introduced, to a civilization already well under way. Min- 
 ing and manufacturing bring specialization ; men begin to 
 follow distinct trades. Commerce increases. Cities spring 
 up. Then iron, and steel ; the rest of the story is recorded 
 history. 
 
 Men find themselves on an island, separated from the 
 mainland by broad rivers. They learn to cross these by 
 canoes, by ferry boats. Then they throw bridges over 
 them; they tunnel beneath their surface. They cross 
 oceans in ships, driven first by wind power and later by 
 steam. Trails give place to roads, and these to cemented 
 highways. Men lay rails across a continent for steam and 
 electric traffic, filling valleys and boring through moun- 
 tains. They flash messages around the world by wires, 
 and even without wires. They learn to navigate under the 
 water and through the air. They build structures of many 
 stories, to which they are lifted swiftly against the force 
 of gravity. They harness the energy stored in water- 
 falls and coal, in molecules and electrons, and use it to 
 heat and light their houses and turn the wheels in their 
 
90 CHAOS OE COSMOS? 
 
 factories. Whatever articles are needed to supply their 
 wants, tools are ready, and tools to make tools. What hath 
 Man wrought, in this last hundred years. Human achieve- 
 ment in the completion of the physical world, is an epic, 
 far grander and worthier than the deeds of Homeric heroes 
 or mediaeval knights. And the work of creation goes for- 
 ward, at an ever accelerating rate. 
 
 Man has succeeded, not in spite of IN'ature, but because 
 of ISTature. The forces of the physical world were on his 
 side. They have been friendly, not hostile. Man has been 
 able to work with the Universe, because the Universe ever 
 was working with man. The material and power are sup- 
 plied him ; what he contributes is their knowledge and con- 
 trol. Through the oxidation of wood or coal, for example, 
 people develop heat for their comfort or convenience. The 
 laws of Physics and Chemistry are not broken. The 
 equations of energy are unaltered. Man brings together 
 forces and force-centers that existed previously. But he 
 brings them together in new arrangements, and for the 
 accomplishment of new ends. 
 
 Every workman is a creator, helping to direct Divine 
 forces, working with God upon Divine materials. The 
 miner, digging coal or iron, is following a holy calling. 
 Every stroke of his pick is an act of unconscious com- 
 munion with the Universe. His task is sacred, it is part 
 of the social order. The comfort, the very life of God's 
 children, depends on the product of his labor. To shirk 
 is to prove traitor to man and to God. To do one's best 
 is to hear, if one will, the "Well done, good and faithful 
 servant." So with the laborer in the blast furnace, turn- 
 ing out steel for human use. The mechanic, making what 
 God wants made. The worker in the building trades, help- 
 ing to house man and his varied industries. The ship- 
 builder, the boilermaker, doing their part in the organiza- 
 tion which make human commerce possible. The engineer 
 or the seaman, making commerce actual. The farmer, 
 feeding the world, of whom our next chapter will have 
 
COMPLETING THE PHYSICAL WOELD 91 
 
 more to tell. The miller, putting the farmer's product into 
 available form. The tradesman and his varied helpers, dis- 
 tributing the goods that people need. The housewife, pre- 
 paring what her home should have of food and cleanliness 
 and comfort. There are no secular callings. Steam and 
 electricity are holy, and boiler plates and bolts of cloth and 
 shoes and sacks of flour and dressed meats and dishes and 
 laundered clothes. To come in contact with the objects and 
 forces of the world of every day, is to come in contact with 
 God in His incessant activity. The place whereon we 
 stand, in factory or store or kitchen, is holy ground. 
 
 From a feudal aristocracy we have inherited the idea of 
 a certain stigma attaching to hand labor. Such an attitude 
 is virtual atheism. In itself hand labor is not degrading 
 but ennobling. It should be practiced in our leisure hours 
 and taught to our children. The mere contact with physi- 
 cal materials brings a satisfaction and a peace which are 
 in the truest sense religious. Athletic sports are of the 
 greatest importance, from the standpoint of health and rec- 
 reation. But in the education of a people, sport cannot 
 take the place of honest work. There can be no real democ- 
 racy without a general participation in physical labor, as 
 something honorable and intrinsically rewarding. Bul- 
 garia, under Premier Stamboliisky, has introduced the 
 plan of drafting young men, when they reach the age of 
 conscription, for a period of education and service as 
 laborers rather than soldiers. 
 
 William Morris defined real art as the expression by 
 man of his pleasure in labor. He might have said the 
 same of true religion. In useful work well done are all 
 the elements of communion and worship and service. Cre- 
 ative tasks, when seen in a larger perspective, bring a cer- 
 tain self-forgetfulness. We have an example of this in 
 the almost superhuman effort that can be made under stress 
 of some great cause, as in making munitions or digging 
 trenches. Absorption in some piece of creative work may 
 bring the same oblivion to time and weariness and bodily 
 
92 CHAOS OR COSMOS? 
 
 need. Sometliing of the same attitude is possible in normal 
 labor. Outside of muscular fatigue, what tires us is not 
 the work we are doing, but tbe work we are not doing. 
 Our mind is constantly chafing to be doing something else. 
 On the other hand, work that is interesting is seldom tir- 
 ing. In this case we are truly cooperating with God. Our 
 mind is working in harmony with the Divine processes 
 that go on in brain, nerve and muscle cells. 
 
 That religion in its broadest sense will ever become a 
 general and sufficient motive for labor, is open to question. 
 The chief compulsion has been and will continue to be 
 economic necessity. But the sense of cooperation with the 
 Universe for social ends may be made a supplementary 
 motive, dignifying mechanical tasks, giving a new sacred- 
 ness to materials, glorifying routine through the conscious- 
 ness of the end to be attained, developing the satisfaction 
 of craftsmanship. 
 
 To release this powerful supplementary motive in me- 
 dianical labor, many things are necessary. Hours of labor 
 must be reduced below the point of physical exhaustion, 
 and the fatigue due to monotony or nervous strain relieved 
 by change of work or periods of rest. Proper provision 
 must be made for lighting, ventilation, safety and comfort. 
 The return in wages must not only provide a decent living, 
 but be fairly representative of the worker's share in pro- 
 duction. There must be security of tenure; the worker 
 cannot be haunted by the fear of losing his job, or of be- 
 coming dependent in old age. Some means must be de- 
 vised for giving an intelligent interest in the processes 
 and management of the plant. Home conditions and the 
 opportunity for wholesome recreation are of almost equal 
 importance. And the worker must have the skill, the con- 
 trol over his own powers and over natural forces, the use 
 of the best labor-saving machinery available, and the eco- 
 nomical placing of materials and tools, which will make 
 for the most efficient production. On no other terms can 
 the workman have the consciousness of being a creator 
 
COMPLETING THE PHYSICAL WOELD 93 
 
 rather than a drudge. Some of these conditions society at 
 large is securing, through legislative enactment. Still 
 more powerful is the recognition by the more progressive 
 plants of the human factor in industry.-^ Booker Washing- 
 ton, in one of his books, pleads for the industrial educa- 
 tion which will "teach the Wegro how not to drudge in his 
 work." He contrasts "the S'egro in the South toiling 
 through a field of oats with an old-fashioned reaper, vdth 
 the white man on a modem farm in the West, sitting upon 
 a modern Taarvester,' behind two spirited horses, with an 
 umbrella over him, using a machine that cuts and binds 
 the oats at the same time, — doing four times as much work 
 as the black man with one-half the labor." ^ 
 
 Under any approach to ideal conditions, physical labor, 
 like virtue, is its own reward. It brings returns which 
 cannot be reckoned in dollars. "The real wages of life," 
 says Atkins, "are in the strength which attends happy 
 toil, in the comradeship born of a common endeavor for 
 great ends — there is no finer friendship than the friend- 
 ship of those who work together — in the sense of 
 usefulness which attends all service and in the joy of 
 creation which God shares with all good workmen. 
 We are paid for our work in the happiness and well- 
 being of others, in wholesome weariness which makes rest 
 a blessing, in the hunger which gives a flavor to bread and 
 the thirst which makes a cup of cold water the very gift 
 of God. Discipline and skill, patience and power are coin 
 struck from a mint whose gold is never tarnished — these 
 also are the wages of toil, and beyond all these is charac- 
 ter — the continuation and revelation of the great reward 
 of labor in personality itself." ^ 
 
 The relations between Man and the Universe must be 
 
 *This subject will be taken up more fully in Chapters 18 and 19. 
 See Frederick S. Lee, The Human Machine and Industrial Ef- 
 ficiency, 1918; Josephine Goldmark, Fatigue and Efficiency, 1912; 
 Frank B. and Lillian M. Gilbreth, Fatigue Study, 2nd ed., 1919. 
 
 ^Future of the Am. Negro, 1899, 62. 
 
 •G. G. Atkins, Congregationaliat, Dec. 25, 1919. 
 
94 CHAOS OK COSMOS? 
 
 learned, not through an abstract discussion of the nature 
 of human consciousness, or of freedom versus determinism, 
 but through a study of the difference which the individual 
 man is able to make in the net result. That he is not a 
 mere cog in the cosmic machine is shown by the reverse 
 fact, that man may refuse to cooperate in the work of cre- 
 ation, or even destroy that which has been created by others. 
 He may set fire to a building, or dynamite a printing of- 
 fice or a mine. He may limit production by unscientific or 
 inhuman management, or by sabotage or a policy of "ca* 
 canny." He may live in idleness on the productive work of 
 others. He may hold land or water-power or mineral 
 deposits undeveloped, in order to secure a larger unearned 
 increment. He may plunge the world in a war that wastes 
 more life and property than can be replaced in a genera- 
 tion. For such antics the theory of the Absolute offers 
 no explanation. But both creation and destruction fit into 
 the idea of a Universe which, since the emergence of the 
 human species, has become a Pluralism rather than a 
 Monism, a Democracy rather than an Absolute Monarchy. 
 
DEVELOPING THE FOOD SUPPLY. 
 
 What Man has done to perfect the organic world, will 
 be seen if we trace the pedigree of some of the commonest 
 articles on our table. I do not intend in this chapter to 
 give practical directions for farming, but merely to review 
 some examples of human creation and control which are 
 no less remarkable because the end-products are so fa- 
 miliar. 
 
 We may begin with the meat and dairy products. Man's 
 domestication of wild cattle in I^eolithic times did much 
 to change the course of social evolution. Wealth came to 
 be '^pecuniary," as with the early Latin, derived from 
 pecus, cattle. By 3000 B. C. the Egyptians had not only 
 developed a hornless from a horned breed, but had achieved 
 a selective milk type.^ 
 
 If it is the beefsteak we are considering, the story is 
 probably that of the Shorthorn breed. It goes back to 
 the valley of the Tees, in the English county of Durham, 
 and the September day, in the year 1786, when Charles 
 Colling of Ketton Hall made his historic visit to the home 
 of his friend Maynard of Eryholme. As he and his wife 
 rode up, their attention was at once attracted by a hand- 
 some roan cow which Miss Maynard was milking. Be- 
 fore the visit was over, this animal, a fine representative 
 of the old Teesdale stock, was purchased for 28 guineas 
 and renamed Lady Maynard, or, as an admiring country- 
 side came to call her, "the beautiful Lady Maynard." She 
 was destined to become the ancestress of the improved 
 
 * Jas. O. Breasted, 8ci. Monthly, 9, 422, 1919. 
 
 95 
 
96 CHAOS OK COSMOS? 
 
 Shorthorns. Still more important was the blood of a bull, 
 bought by Charles Colling for 10 guineas, and sold after 
 two years for 8 on account of his small size. He had no 
 name until his progeny began to attract attention, when he 
 was named Hubback, from a later owner. This bull of 
 posthumous fame showed symmetry and even distribution 
 of flesh, and a remarkably quick response to feeding. The 
 union of these two strains, under the method of close in- 
 breeding which Colling had learned from the great pioneer, 
 Kobert Bakewell of Dishley, produced the beef type he 
 was seeking. Such bulls as Favorite, his grandson Comet, 
 which sold afterward for $5000, and "the Durham Ox," 
 which reached a weight of nearly 3400 pounds, made the 
 improved breed famous throughout England. Still fur- 
 ther developed by his brother Eobert Colling, and by 
 Thomas Booth and Thomas Bates, the Shorthorns or Dur- 
 hams began to make their way to America, where they 
 were to prove the favorite dual purpose breed. The fas- 
 cinating and at times sensational story should be read in 
 the pages of Mr. Alvin Sanders.^ 
 
 Man has produced equally striking results with dairy 
 cattle. In 1910 the average annual production of the 
 American dairy cow was estimated by the Bureau of Ani- 
 mal Industry at 4000 pounds of milk, and 160 pounds of 
 butter fat. Probably a quarter of the cows did not pay 
 for the cost of keeping them, and nearly one-fourth more 
 failed to yield a profit. To correct this situation, three 
 lines of improvement are being followed: feeding, selec- 
 tion, and breeding. Experiments in Iowa showed that 
 good feeding, as contrasted with poor feeding, more than 
 doubled the total yield of young stock over a two-year 
 period. The aim in scientific feeding is to supply each 
 cow with the largest amount of grain she can use in milk 
 production without putting on flesh. The rough and ready 
 rule is to feed one pound of grain for every three pounds 
 
 * Shorthorn Cattle, 2nd ed., 1901; At the Sign of the Stock Yard 
 Inn, 1915. 
 
DEVELOPING THE FOOD SUPPLY 97 
 
 of milk produced, in addition to all tlie roughage the cow 
 will eat up clean. Warmth, ventilation and general peace 
 and contentment are also of great importance. Since 
 individual cows vary greatly in their capacity for utiliz- 
 ing food above their maintenance, regular testing is neces- 
 sary in order to weed out the less productive stock. At 
 the Georgia Experiment Station, the best cow in the herd 
 gave during twelve months 7,968 pounds of milk, which 
 produced $115.44 of butter. The poorest cow gave only 
 2,788 pounds of milk, with a butter value of $41.63. Be- 
 sides selecting individuals with the best production records, 
 much can be accomplished by breeding up the herd. Let 
 me refer again to experiments in Iowa. The introduction 
 of pure-bred Holstein sires brought an increased produc- 
 tion in the heifers, at an average age of three years and a 
 half, over their scrub mothers at an average age of six 
 years, of 71% in milk, and 42% in butterfat.^ 
 
 While the production by good grade herds compares 
 favorably with herds made up entirely of thoroughbreds, 
 the possibilities in breeding can be seen from the world 
 records made by pure-bred cattle. The Holstein cow Segis 
 Pietertje Prospect, recently completed a year's production 
 which showed 37,381.4 pounds of milk, or an average of 
 about 60 quarts a day. At least six cows have passed the 
 30,000 mark. The butterfat record for this breed is held 
 by a Canadian cow which rejoices in the name of Bella 
 Pontiac, with 1,270 lbs., which is reckoned as 1,587.5 
 lbs. butter. For the Guernseys, Mume Cowan gave 24,008 
 lbs. milk, and Countess Prue 1,103.28 lbs. butterfat. The 
 Ayrshire, Garclaugh May Mischief, produced 25,329 lbs. 
 milk; and Lily of Willowmoor 955.56 lbs. butterfat. The 
 Jersey records are held by Passport, with 19,694.8 lbs. 
 milk; and Plain Mary with 1,040 lbs. butterfat.* Man 
 
 •Iowa Agric. Exp. Sta., Bull. 165, 1916; Clarence B. Lane, Records 
 of Dairy Cows, U. S. Dept. Agr., Bur. An. Industry, Bull. 75, 1905. 
 
 * Breeds of Dairy Cattle, U. S. D. A., Farmers Bulletin 893, 1917, 
 records corrected to Dec. 1, 1921. The Holstein milk record has 
 been broken twice within two years. 
 
98 CHAOS OE COSMOS? 
 
 has gone far in perfecting the cow as a machine for turn- 
 ing concentrated food materials into milk and fat. Breed- 
 ing and feeding have produced similar records for hogs 
 and poultry. 
 
 Normal milk contains various types of bacteria, one 
 of which, the lactis acidi, causes fermentation with the 
 mild acid flavor that we enjoy in our butter. In order to 
 provide this uniform flavor, the butter-maker has pas- 
 teurized his cream to destroy the active bacteria of all 
 sorts. He then adds a pure culture of the lactis acidi, al- 
 lows the cream to ferment under its influence, churns it, 
 works out the surplus water, salts and colors it to suit our 
 taste, and the butter is kept at a low temperature until it 
 is ready for the table. The creation of our cheese is some- 
 what more complicated. The cheese-maker is unable, in 
 most cases, to make use of pasteurization, but he secures 
 the desired fermentation by selecting whole milk in which 
 lactis acidi predominate, and adding a pure culture. Ren- 
 nin, extracted from the digestive stomach of a calf, is then 
 introduced, to assist by its enzymes the digestion of the 
 curd. The resulting flavor is due to some biologic action, 
 not yet understood, but stimulated by the acids of fermen- 
 tation, which are under definite control, and by the salt 
 which is added. By changing the method of production, 
 in some cases adding cultures of certain molds, the cheese- 
 maker is able to vary the flavor and consistency, and pro- 
 duce over four hundred varieties.^ 
 
 Our honey is a plant secretion, whose cane sugar is 
 changed to grape sugar in the bee's body. Its flavor is 
 determined by the flowers on whicTi the bees forage. The 
 aim of the bee-keeper has been to increase production. 
 The Italian species is most generally used, owing to their 
 comparative gentleness and disease-resistance, and the in- 
 creased laying power of the queen. As all worker eggs 
 
 ■E. G. Hastings, in Marshall's Microbiology, 1917, 408-437; C. F. 
 Doane and H. W. Lawson, Varieties of Cheese, Bur. Animal Ind., 
 Bun, 105, 1908. 
 
DEYELOPING THE FOOD SUPPLY 99 
 
 are laid by the queen, and the life of the worker bee during 
 the active season is not more than five or six weeks, all that 
 is necessary for changing the breed is to secure a pure-bred 
 Italian queen, which may be sent long distances by mail. 
 The increase of honey production is secured through me- 
 chanical devices and manipulation. A hive is constructed 
 with movable frames, on which are stretched sheets of wax 
 foundation, stamped so as to furnish the bees with the six- 
 sided bases of the proper size for building worker cells. 
 The objective in modem bee-keeping is the strongest pos- 
 sible colony at the time of the main honey flow. Colonies 
 of 100,000 bees are not unusual. To secure this, it is 
 necessary to eliminate swarming. Instead of allowing the 
 bees to waste their energy building up new colonies, man 
 keeps them at work strengthening the main colony and 
 gathering supplies. By the use of these methods, I have 
 been able to secure an average surplus of 100 pounds of 
 extracted honey per colony in a normal season. A yield of 
 200 pounds is common, and over 400 pounds has occa- 
 sionally been realized as an average. Millions of tons of 
 nectar go to waste annually, through the lack of honey bees 
 to harvest it, under man's control. That such control is 
 still inadequate, is shown by the fact that the average 
 yield per colony in the United States is only 45 pounds of 
 honey. Most of the smaller apiaries fall very much below 
 this figure. 
 
 Our wheaten bread, if made from Minneapolis flour, 
 has been ground from hard spring wheat, grown in the 
 Red River valley. And thereby hangs an interesting tale 
 of plant breeding. This most important of all cereal crops 
 has been cultivated throughout historic times. The plant 
 is in general self -fertilizing, allowing for the selection of 
 pure lines by pedigree culture. W. M. Hays, of the Min- 
 nesota Experiment Station, began in 1888 to try out strains 
 of wheat gathered from the United States and foreign 
 countries. The Blue Stem and Bed Fife, which had be* 
 come indigenous to Minnesota were found most satisfac- 
 
100 CHAOS OE COSMOS? 
 
 tory. In ten years' time, out of 552 wheats grown in trial 
 plots, often from a single kernel, four hardy varieties had 
 been secured, with a high gluten content and an average 
 yield of 22.5 bushels per acre. At that time the producing 
 capacity for the country as a whole was about 17 bushels. 
 But the experimenter was not yet satisfied. From the best 
 types already secured, 400 grains of wheat were planted 
 in single hills in 1892, and a new series of 31 varieties 
 secured. By 1894 about a pint of seed was available for 
 each of these. At the end of the decade, the best of the new 
 varieties, Minnesota 163 and 169, were beginning to be 
 supplied to farmers. Their yield was approximately 28 
 bushels, making possible an increase of over 10 bushels per 
 acre for the entire I^orthwest.^ 
 
 The maize which enters our diet, directly or indirectly, 
 differs from wheat in that it is normally cross-fertilized. 
 At the Connecticut Experiment Station, D. F. Jones, con- 
 tinuing the work begun by East, has been able to isolate 
 about a dozen pure lines. These in themselves lack vigor, 
 but may be crossed to furnish new combinations of desir- 
 able qualities. The greatest success has been reached with 
 a double cross. Mr. Jones showed me the small shrivelled 
 ears of two strains of white dent com, and the cross made 
 of these, somewhat larger but still shrivelled. By com- 
 bining with a similar cross of yellow dent strains, he se- 
 cured a large perfect ear, which in the trial plots yielded 
 an average of 112 bushels of shelled com. The average 
 yield on Connecticut farms, the highest in the country, is 
 44 bushels, the best farmers reaching about 75. The best 
 record of the hybrid varieties used in the trial plots was 
 92 bushels. The 20% increase of the new combination 
 was due to the elimination of bad heredity. Each plant 
 produced an ear of corn, and this ear was perfect, ensur- 
 ing a uniform production of grain. To take advantage of 
 the new method, it will be necessary for the farmer to 
 maintain special seed plots, securing a small quantity of 
 
 • Univ. of Minn. Ag. Exper. Station, Bull 62, 1899. 
 
DEVELOPING THE FOOD StPFL*' ' *' * 101 
 
 seed from the two crosses, and planting in alternate rows. 
 By detasseling the first row, its matured ears, fertilized by 
 the second row, will be the desired double cross. This will 
 furnish seed for the next year's planting,*^ 
 
 The same patient, enterprising cooperation with the 
 Universe is seen in the adaptation and improvement of 
 plants from distant countries, like the potato and the to- 
 mato, the navel orange, and countless garden flowers; in 
 the grafting of improved varieties of fruit on old stocks; 
 in the creation of new species, like the thomless edible 
 cactus, which cost Burbank ten years of crossing and 
 selection.® 
 
 In providing these various articles of food, Man has 
 been actively engaged in improving the soil from which 
 they come. In recent years his aim has been to make the 
 fullest possible use of the microorganisms which are the 
 chief factor in soil fertility. Some of these bacteria take 
 up free nitrogen, and render it available for plant food. 
 The most useful are those that attach themselves to the 
 roots of clover and other legumes. By growing clover as 
 part of the crop rotation, the nitrogen content of the soil 
 is not only maintained but increased. Where necessary 
 the clover seed is innoculated before planting, and lime 
 added to the soil to stimulate bacterial action. 
 
 Other bacteria and molds decompose animal waste and 
 dead organic matter, and thus make it again fitted for the 
 use of plants. Careful treatment of liquid and solid ma- 
 nure enables this process to go on with the least possible 
 loss. The application of manure, or the plowing under of 
 green crops, supplies the soil bacteria with the food sup- 
 ply on which to continue their decomposition of the humus. 
 Cultivation and drainage insure the amounts of moisture 
 
 *The reader is referred to Mr. Jones' report and bibliography in 
 J. of the Am. 8oc. of Agronomy, 12, 77, 1920. 
 
 'W. S. Harwood, New Creations in Plant Life, 1905, gives a 
 popular review of Burbank's work. For a general review of the 
 subject, see Babcock and Claussen, Genetics in Agricultttre, 1918, 
 with full bibliography. 
 
io3 ' *''* *^' ^ ' "'chaos oe cosmos ? 
 
 and oxygen that are necessary for tlie greatest activity of 
 the bacteria, as well as of the plant roots, in various soils. 
 Still other microorganisms act, either directly or indirectly, 
 to break up rock surfaces for the formation of new soil. 
 They also transform various mineral compounds, supply- 
 ing, for example, most of the potash needed for rapid 
 plant growth. This most useful work is stimulated by the 
 application of animal or green manures or commercial 
 fertilizers.^ 
 
 Through this active and intelligent control of bacterial 
 action, Man has been able to restore the fertility of worn- 
 out soils, to utilize apparently barren regions for crop pro- 
 duction, and to increase soil-fertility, in spite of the 
 amount of food material annually drawn from the land. 
 'New areas are constantly being made available for farm- 
 ing. The United States Eeclamation Service has provided 
 water for approximately 3 million acres of arid land. The 
 general campaign for surface and tile drainage is beginning 
 to reclaim the 80 to 100 million acres too wet for culti- 
 vation. Similar movements are going on in other parts of 
 the world. As a consequence, the predictions of earlier 
 economists are reversed, and Man appears to be increasing 
 his food supply faster than the population increases. The 
 species which can achieve such a result is not composed of 
 automatons. 
 
 Professor Bailey, in his inspiring book on the Holy 
 Earth, distinguishes three stages in our relation to the 
 planet. The collecting stage of the hunter and fisherman 
 is succeeding by the mining stage. The wealth of the 
 earth is exploited without thought for future generations. 
 There is no attempt to clean up the refuse heaps and heal 
 the scars, and thus restore man's home to its pristine order 
 and beauty. No one who looks on hillsides devastated by 
 wasteful lumbering, would consider man a good house- 
 keeper. "Farming has been very much a mining pro- 
 
 •MarshalFs Micyrobiology, 1917, 289-363; Chas. W. Burkett, SoiU^ 
 1907. 
 
DEVELOPING THE FOOD SUPPLY 103 
 
 cess, the utilizing of fertility easily at hand and the mov- 
 ing-on to lands unspoiled of quick potash and nitrogen." 
 Finally we enter the productive stage, where we secure 
 supplies by controlling the conditions of growth. The 
 American farmer is learning, like his brother in Europe, 
 to put back into the soil as much as he takes out of it. 
 Farming begins to have "a range of responsible and perma- 
 nent morals." ^^ 
 
 One of the great social problems of our age is to insure 
 a succession of efficient and contented farmers. Owner- 
 ship versus tenantry, technical training, labor and labor- 
 saving machinery, proper marketing, adequate financial 
 returns, good roads, social advantages — all these enter into 
 the solution of the problem. But still more fundamental 
 is the question of inspiration and motive. Legally the 
 farmer may be the owner of his land. Morally he is a 
 trustee. He is engaged, as Bailey says, in a quasi-public 
 business. He is the agent of Society to subdue the surface 
 of the earth and increase its productiveness. And the daily 
 work on the farm represents what is perhaps our most in- 
 timate contact with God's activities in the world around 
 us. A man cannot be a good farmer unless he remembers 
 man and remembers God.^^ 
 
 There is something inherently sacred in the earth which 
 is man's principal source of food, in the fructifying power 
 of moisture and sun, in the living organisms, lowlier mem- 
 bers of a common evolution, whose life man is able to con- 
 trol, and put to use for the supplying of his needs. It 
 is not surprising that people of an earlier culture wor- 
 shipped many of these objects as sources of fertility, or as 
 symbols of deity. The revival of Jesus' idea of God's ac- 
 tivity in ^Nature should provide an outlet for this natural 
 religious instinct, in terms that the modern world can 
 understand. God is no longer an Absentee Landlord. He 
 is our Partner in the great creative enterprise. The com- 
 
 «L. H. Bailey, The Holy Earth, 1915, 22. 
 "M, 32. 
 
104 CHAOS OE COSMOS? 
 
 munion which the IN'ature-lover feels in flower and field and 
 wood, rises in the life of the gardener or farmer to the 
 height of definite cooperation. Food is essential to life. 
 Civilization depends upon adequate and increasing food 
 supply. Through the control of Divine forces of repro- 
 duction and growth, man works with God in this most 
 elemental of all services to the race. In the words of 
 IngersoU: "To plow is to pray; to plant is to prophesy; 
 and the harvest answers and fulfills." 
 
XI. 
 
 THE CONTROL OF HEALTH 
 
 The life of any organism is contingent. It must adapt 
 itself to the environment. It must continue to fulfill the 
 conditions which make organic life possible. In the hu- 
 man species this adaptation is, to some extent, under con- 
 scious control. Successful adjustment to the Universe is 
 health. Failure in adjustment means pain, sickness, and 
 death. To charge suffering to God would be as absurd aa 
 to charge Him with the burning out of the fuse of the 
 electric lights, when my eldest son tried some scientific 
 experiments. If positive and negative wires are joined, 
 a short circuit results. If a man overeats, it is liable to 
 bring on an attack of biliousness. The Universe does not 
 cause the biliousness, any more than it caused the short cir- 
 cuit. It merely lays down the conditions of successful or 
 unsuccessful adjustment. 
 
 The question of Health brings into sharp relief the op- 
 posing theories of Monism and Pluralism which are before 
 us in this section of our book. In Christian Science and 
 similar pantheistic movements, the perfecting of the in- 
 dividual is practically his absorption in the Universe. 
 God is represented as Perfect Health. To abide in health 
 one must abide in God. Since God is also, for this school, 
 the Absolute Mind, health is primarily a matter of mental 
 harmony or discord. The aim of the healer is to exorcise 
 sickness, by bringing the patient into an attitude of con- 
 fidence, harmony and oneness with the Universe of which 
 he is a part. 
 
 105 
 
106 CHAOS OR COSMOS? 
 
 In this position there is much of truth and practical 
 value, as we shall see. But a wider view of the field shows 
 that the correct adjustment of man to the Universe is not 
 merely mental. It is also structural, chemical and bac- 
 teriological. These factors are not mutually exclusive. 
 Rather they supplement and shade into each other. The 
 science of Medicine, in its four-fold aspect, is part of the 
 creative achievement of the human mind which we have al- 
 ready discussed. In this chapter we shall apply such 
 knowledge in some detail to the case of the individual man. 
 Christianity, like other religions, has made valuable use 
 of suggestion and faith. But the laws of health are laws 
 of God. To know these laws and follow them is as much 
 a religious duty as to follow the Ten Commandments. The 
 forces of the Universe that make for health are at our 
 command, but we are required to make active and intelli- 
 gent use of them. I^ot to call on the best medical skill 
 available, is to neglect some of the most notable coopera- 
 tion of man with God.-^ 
 
 Since the human body is a physical machine, it is neces- 
 sary to keep that machine intact, and in proper working 
 order. Surgery attempts to correct man's adjustment on 
 the physical side, whenever this has been disturbed by acci- 
 dent or other cause. A man's hand was severed in our 
 local saw-mill, and hanging only by a piece of skin. Plac- 
 ing him under an anaesthetic, the surgeons in the hospital 
 
 *For any one who cares to follow further the subject of this 
 chapter, the number of good books is legion. I suggest the follow- 
 ing: John F. Binnie, Manual of Operative Surgery, 7th ed., 
 1916; Russell Howard, Practice of Surgery, 2nd ed., 1918; Albert 
 P. Mathews, Physiolog. Chemistry, 2nd ed., 1916; Graham Lusk, 
 Science of Nutrition, 3rd ed., 1917; Wm. Osier, Principles and 
 Practice of Medicine, 8th ed., 1918; M. J. Rosenau, Preventive 
 Medicine and Hygiene, 2nd ed., 1916; Wm. Brady, Personal Health, 
 1916; Irving Fisher and Eugene L. Fisk, How to Live, 1915; Edwin 
 O. Jordan, General Bacteriology, 6th ed., 1918; Marshall's Microbi- 
 ology, 2n(i ed., 1917; Hans Zinsser, Infection and Resistance, 2nd 
 ed., 1918; Paul Dubois, Psychic Treatment of Nervous Disorders, 
 Eng. trans., 1907; Wm. A. White, Prin's of Mental Hygiene, 1917; 
 Hugo Miinsterberg, Psychotherapy^ 1909; Richard C. Cabot, What 
 Men Live By, 1914. 
 
THE CONTROL OF HEALTH 107 
 
 set the bones, and rejoined the nerves and blood-vessels. 
 The natural forces of growth did the rest, and the man 
 regained almost complete use of his hand. Where a limb 
 cannot be saved, it is amputated, and the patient fitted with 
 an artificial leg or arm. A tumor or a diseased appendix, 
 which threaten the loss of life, may be removed. In the 
 case of serious burns, skin may be grafted from another 
 part of the body, or even from a different person. Sec- 
 tions of tissue and bone are transplanted. Transfusion of 
 blood is also practiced. Manipulation or massage may re- 
 store normal circulation in obstructed nerves or muscles. 
 The improvement of defective sight, or its compensation 
 by artificial lenses, relieves eye-strain and saves health and 
 efficiency. The science of Dentistry, supplementing proper 
 care of the teeth, enables us to keep this important part of 
 our anatomy functioning even to old age, and to avoid 
 the poisoning of the blood or of the food material which 
 results from decay. These are but samples of the repair 
 of man's physical machine which the advance of Science 
 has made possible. Passive absorption in the Absolute 
 Mind does not provide new teeth or remove adenoids or 
 restore severed hands. Surgery can only release the forces 
 of assimilation and growth through which God operates 
 in the physical organism. But man must do his part, on 
 pain of death. 
 
 That man's corrective task is far from complete was 
 shown by the examinations under the American army 
 draft. Of two and a half million men examined under 
 the first draft, 29 % were rejected as unfit for active mili- 
 tary service,^ and nearly 30% of the two succeeding 
 drafts. That is, practically a third of all American men 
 are physically abnormal. It is interesting to note the 
 classification made of nearly half a million disqualifica- 
 tions reported by local boards and camp surgeons.^ 
 
 "Provost Marshall General, Fvrat Report , 1918, 44. 
 •Id., Second Report, 1919. 
 
108 CHAOS OR COSMOS? 
 
 CAUSE FOR REJECTION NUMBER PER CENT 
 
 Total for all causes 467,694 100.00 
 
 Alcohol and drugs , 2,007 .43 
 
 Bones And joints 57,744 12.35 
 
 Physical under-development 39,166 8.37 
 
 Digestive system 2,476 .53 
 
 Ears 20,465 4.38 
 
 Eyes , 49,801 10.65 
 
 Flatfoot (pathological) 18,087 3.87 
 
 Genito-nrinary (venereal) 6,235 1.33 
 
 Genito-iirinary (non-venereal) . . 6,309 1.35 
 
 Heart and blood vessels 61,142 13.07 
 
 Hernia 28,268 6.04 
 
 Mental deficiency 24,514 5.24 
 
 Nervous and mental disorders 23,728 6.07 
 
 Eespiratory (tuberculous) 40,533 8.67 
 
 Kespiratory (non-tuberculous) . 7,823 1.67 
 
 Skin 12,519 2.68 
 
 Teeth 14,793 3.16 
 
 Thyroid 8,215 1.78 
 
 Tuberculosis, non-respiratory . . . — . 4,136 .88 
 
 The human body has its own power plant and its own 
 chemical laboratory. The latter produces the enzymes 
 needed for digesting and assimilating the different food 
 elements, and for oxidizing the blood and lymph which 
 are to replenish the energy of the various cells and carry 
 off the wasta Given a fair chance, the organism will 
 maintain its own chemical and thermal equilibrium. Air, 
 food and water, exercise and sleep of the proper quality 
 and amount, cleanliness, and the insulation of the body 
 through clothing or warmed air, are all that is necessary, 
 under normal conditions, to maintain perfect health. God 
 provides them all. Man needs only to find them and use 
 them, and the Divine forces in the organism will respond. 
 The human body is indeed a temple, more sacred than any 
 built with hands, where we may know the presence of the 
 Highest, and witness the constant miracle of God's ac- 
 
THE CONTROL OP HEALTH 109 
 
 tivity. To be a faithful and worthy keeper of that temple 
 is the holiest of callings. Ordinary sickness is a punish- 
 ment for the sin of neglected duty. 
 
 At times, usually through some failure on man's part, 
 the chemical equilibrium of the body is disturbed. A 
 change in the amount or constitution of the food elements, 
 or in the substances naturally eliminated from the system, 
 radically alters the activities of the tissue cells, causing 
 them to secrete toxins, or organic poisons. These affect 
 the organism in various ways. The nutrition of the cells 
 becomes insufficient Their fats or carbohydrates may be 
 used up too rapidly, bringing corresponding changes in the 
 waste products. Sugar may accumulate in the blood, since 
 the tissues are unable to absorb the usual amount. Con- 
 gestion in the intestinal canal will cause further toxins to 
 develop. The body soon gives those symptoms of sickness 
 which are merely indications of changed metabolism. The 
 internal nerve-endings send the danger signals which we 
 know as pain. There may be heightened temperature, a 
 cough, an attack of vomiting, a loss of appetite, a general 
 feeling of lassitude. For the correction of these bad 
 chemical conditions, man has learned the empirical use of 
 drugs. Organs may be artificially stimulated, toxins 
 counteracted, elimination improved. We know the end 
 result, but practically nothing of the processes involved. 
 The disturbance to the system is liable to be as great as the 
 benefit. The tendency in modem Medicine is to consider 
 such treatment merely an emergency measure. The real 
 aim is to bring about such change in diet or other condi- 
 tions as will give the body's own chemistry a chance to 
 right itself. 
 
 The disturbance of the chemical equilibrium of the body 
 may be due to microorganisms. The bacteria and other 
 types which are responsible for infectious diseases, usually 
 enter through the mouth or nose, or through wounds in the 
 skin. When able to multiply, they generate toxins by their 
 action on food materials and body cells. The toxins are 
 
110 CHAOS OE COSMOS? 
 
 the direct cause of tlie disease, through the disturbance of 
 functional activities. 
 
 Man's attack on these dangerous organisms, in the 
 interest of health, has followed four lines. In the first 
 place, our aim is to reduce the sources of infection, by 
 isolating persons who may be carriers, and by destroying as 
 far as possible the bacteria themselves. Of the success of 
 this work we shall have more to say in the next chapter. 
 In the second place, our effort is directed toward keeping 
 the human body in the most perfect physical condition. 
 Man has a natural power of disease resistance. With an 
 unbroken skin, and ducts and hair follicles in normal con- 
 dition, there is no danger of surface infection. The 
 mucous membranes tend to protect the inner surfaces. 
 Although disease germs are constantly present in the 
 mouths of healthy persons, some of them are removed 
 mechanically, and others checked or destroyed by the acid 
 secretions in the mouth and other organs. The leucocytes, 
 or white corpuscles of the blood, are active devourers of 
 bacteria, after the latter have been rendered appetizing 
 by contact with certain chemical substances in the body 
 fluids known as opsonins. If a tissue has been injured, 
 the leucocytes tend to gather around the infected spot and 
 destroy the predatory organisms. This bodily reaction is 
 known as inflammation. It often leads to the formation 
 of a wall of cells that localizes the disturbance. When 
 toxins develop, the natural tendency of the body is to de- 
 velop antitoxins to combat them. The degree of inamunity, 
 general or specific, varies greatly with the individual, and 
 with the state of health. Fifty per cent of all normal 
 persons, for example, possess in their blood a natural anti- 
 toxin for diphtheria. A person who has had an infectious 
 disease is usually immune to it afterward. 
 
 The third line of attack is the development of artificial 
 immunity. Weakened or modified viruses known as vac- 
 cines, usually the dead bacteria in some form, are given, 
 to stimulate the development of natural defences against 
 
THE CONTROL OF HEALTH 111 
 
 the disease. In antiserum treatment, the protective sub- 
 stances, instead of being developed in the body, are sup- 
 plied from other animals, which have been innoculated with 
 the disease. Sometimes, as in diphtheria, the serum in- 
 jected is designed to neutralize the toxin. In other cases, 
 for example pneumonia, the aim is to kill the bacteria 
 themselves, directly or indirectly, and the serum does not 
 create immunity. The advance in practice in this depart- 
 ment of Medicine, with the knowledge of organic chemistry 
 that lies behind it, must rank as one of the greatest 
 achievements of Science. 
 
 Fourthly, we have the treatment of the disease after it 
 has developed. The aim is to restore, as rapidly as pos- 
 sible, the patient's power of disease resistance. Antisenmis 
 and germicides are applied, when these will be useful. 
 Diet, elimination and temperature are carefully regulated, 
 and organs stimulated to renewed activity. In other words 
 we do, under conditions of great disadvantage, what could 
 have been done in most cases by preventive medicine and 
 hygiene. To cure the sick, through scientific knowledge, 
 shows the cooperation of man with God. Yet it is co- 
 operation of a distinctly lower order than that involved 
 in the preservation of health. The resulting adjustment to 
 the Universe is far less certain and complete. It is like 
 putting out a blaze in a rubbish-littered basement, when 
 we might have kept the building in such condition that 
 there would have been no fire. 
 
 In this connection a further employment of microor- 
 ganisms may be mentioned. Metchnikoff made the dis- 
 covery that ill health was due largely to putrefaction in 
 the intestine, caused by certain bacteria. If we could re- 
 place these bacteria by others of a harmless type, health 
 would be promoted and life prolonged. He claimed that 
 it was possible to do this through feeding milk soured by 
 the Bacillus hulgaricus, Metchnikoff's theory appeared in 
 1907, and was widely exploited. We know now that he had 
 picked out the wrong organism. I have been able to follow 
 
il2 CHAOS OR COSMOS? 
 
 somewliat closely the series of experiments carried out in 
 the Yale laboratories under the direction of Professor 
 Rettger. They have demonstrated that the beneficial re- 
 sults are due to the Bacillus acidopliilus, which is strikingly 
 similar to the hulgaricus in appearance. When we feed 
 milk soured by the former organism, it becomes predomi- 
 nant in the intestine and the putrefactive bacteria are elim-« 
 inated. The experiments were made largely with white 
 rats. All mammalian digestion follows a common line, and 
 similar results have already been obtained with human 
 beings. It seems probable that human digestive troubles 
 will in future be controlled through the Bdcillus acido- 
 philuSj by the addition of cultures to the normal diet.* 
 
 A person's state of mind is an important element in 
 physical health. The connection is very close between con- 
 scious or subconscious thought and the system of nerves 
 which control secretion and the distribution of blood. 
 An idea may bring out tears or sweat, make the mouth 
 water, cause blushing, pallor, cold hands or feet Eecent 
 studies have shown that calmness, contentment and pleas- 
 ureable emotion are necessary for perfect functioning of 
 the digestive organs. On the other hand, worry, vexation, 
 anger, fear, in fact any strong emotional excitement, will 
 cause the secretion of adrenin from the adrenal glands. 
 This in turn brings other bodily changes. Blood pressure 
 is raised, and sugar increased in blood and urine. Saliva 
 and gastric juices are no longer secreted. Contraction 
 ceases in the muscles which move food through the stomach 
 and intestines. The result is temporary or chronic indi- 
 gestion, to which the name "emotional dyspepsia" has 
 been given. At times, however, the secretion of adrenin 
 under strong emotional excitement may have a physiologi- 
 cal value. The increased blood supply, its diversion from 
 certain areas, and its high energy content, make greater 
 muscular activity possible. Heavy breathing gives room 
 
 •Leo F. Rettger and Harry A. Cheplin, Transformation of the 
 Intestinal Flora, 1921. 
 
THE CONTEOL OF HEALTH 113 
 
 for additional carbon dioxide in the blood. The adrenin 
 relaxes the smooth muscles in the lungs, and in general 
 acts as an antidote to fatigue. These values, which were 
 vital in the struggles of primitive man, are utilized today 
 in the exertion and excitement of athletic contests and 
 other forms of active exercise.^ 
 
 Medicine is now making use of this close connection 
 between the mind, and the nervous system which regulates 
 the activity of the body. Persons constantly make sug- 
 gestions to themselves regarding their bodily condition. 
 And these suggestions are being carried out, sometimes to 
 a remarkable degree as in paralysis of the limbs or produc- 
 tion of scars on the skin. In functional nervous troubles, 
 the patient is not only liable to various mental delusions. 
 Practically any organ or part of the body may be affected. 
 The aim of the trained operator is to displace suggestions 
 of sickness, and encourage suggestions of mental and physi- 
 cal health. The conscious personality of an adult is pro- 
 tected by a sort of armor, formed by the habits and fric- 
 tions of daily experience. Beneath this are the subcon- 
 scious depths to which reference was made in an earlier 
 chapter. The problem is to pierce this armor and thus 
 reach the undermind, with its immense possibilities for 
 initiating new attitudes and controlling bodily changes. 
 Sometimes this is done through a sudden shock. The 
 undermind may be directly exposed, as in hypnotic sleep. 
 Or casual conversation will give an entrance through in- 
 direct suggestion. To reach that mysterious region be- 
 neath the threshold of ordinary consciousness, is to hold 
 at least one of the keys to health.^ 
 
 The cures made in our psychiatric laboratories are paral- 
 leled by Christian Science and by the Roman Catholic 
 shrine at Lourdes. In these cases the same method of sug- 
 gestion is followed, although blindly and without ade- 
 
 *W. B. Cannon, Bodily Changes m Pain, Hunger, Fear a/nd Rage, 
 1915. 
 •Percy Dearmer, Body and 8<mh 1909, 135. 
 
114 CHAOS OE COSMOS? 
 
 quate diagnosis. Keligious faith is one of the important 
 instruments used by the physician to counteract hysteria 
 and morbid auto-suggestion. The rapid increase in ner- 
 vous diseases has given increased importance to the work 
 of the trained psychiatrist, and to the education of the 
 public in mental hygiene. 
 
 But the value of suggestion is not confined to patients 
 suffering from nervous disorders, as the records of healing 
 cults abundantly testify. Through its vaso-motor nerve 
 connections, the mind may exert a curative, as well as a 
 pathological, influence on any function of the human or- 
 ganism. In fact there is no diseased process in the body 
 that may not be retarded by ideas or emotions implanted 
 in the. patient's mind. I know from my own experience 
 that it is possible by will-power and practice to reduce one's 
 sensitiveness to pain and to exorcise many minor ailments. 
 Mental treatment is not a substitute for surgery, chemistry 
 or antitoxins. But since all cure as we have seen must be 
 self cure, the recovery by the body of its normal equi- 
 librium, a healthy attitude of mind undoubtedly operates 
 to increase disease resistance and aid recovery. Every 
 general practitioner acts on this principle. He seeks to 
 stimulate hope and banish worry and fear. The use of 
 specific suggestion, as a supplement to other means of 
 cure, is likely to find an increasing place, as English 
 and American doctors learn to overcome their unfortu- 
 nate conservatism in regard to new methods of treat- 
 ment. 
 
 Christianity, through most of its history, has healed the 
 sick and cast out demons. This cooperation between man 
 and God in the work of healing, has developed into the 
 specialized professions of Medicine and Nursing, utilizing 
 a growing body of scientific knowledge. The work is no 
 less religious. It still represents the adjustment of human 
 knowledge to the conditions of the Universe, the control 
 by man of Divine forces making for health. And by induc- 
 ing the attitude of mind that is essential to all successful 
 
THE CONTROL OF HEALTH 115 
 
 medical treatment, the religion of Jesus proves its value/ 
 and perhaps its truth as well. To see in all the external 
 world the activity of the ever present Father. To trust Him 
 and love Him. To forget oneself in the work that needs 
 to be done in God's world. To feel the beauty and joy 
 of life; to win strength and satisfaction even from its 
 struggles and losses and pains. To refuse to give way to 
 hatred, fear, lust, greed, envy. To train one's mind to 
 dwell on the good traits of one's fellows, on pleasant rather 
 than unpleasant happenings, on health rather than on 
 sickness, to think in terms of life and not of death. To 
 see in every normal function of the body a meeting between 
 man and God. To consider even one's sleep an act of 
 communion, a relaxation from the strain of creative work 
 in which we have shared, a time of recreation with the 
 Father after a busy day. 
 
 A patient with such an attitude of mind is received with 
 confidence at the operating table, if surgical treatment be- 
 comes necessary, and trusted by the doctor in a time of 
 epidemic He will have little occasion to consult the spe- 
 cialist on nervous disorders. Healthy thinking is a condi- 
 tion of healthy living. The Christian, like his Master, is 
 in harmony with the Universe. He is living and working 
 with the God on whom man, in his physical life, is so 
 closely dependent. 
 
 'Helpful practical suggestions will be found in Chas. R. Brown, 
 Faith and Health, 2nd ed., 1910; Oliver Huckel, Mental Medicine, 
 1909; H. Addington Bruce, Nerve Control a/nd How to Qavn It, 4th 
 ed., 1919. 
 
XII. 
 
 SHAPII^G THE COUESE OF PEOVIDENCE. 
 
 In shaping tlie conditions of human life, the race has a 
 growing responsibility. What we know as Providence is 
 a matter of cooperation, in which Man claims an ever in- 
 creasing share. The fatalist merely submits to the decrees 
 of the Universe, as to a finished order. But civilized man 
 is not a fatalist. He refuses to consider present conditions 
 inevitable. Through the control of natural forces, he 
 rises up to do his part with God in the prevention of acci- 
 dents, the insurance against recurring dangers, and the 
 improving of the environment. 
 
 Take, for example, that overshadowing dread of the 
 region in which I have been living, the forest fire. It may 
 start from bonfires, from the pipe of a careless settler, 
 from an abandoned camp-fire creeping underground, from 
 the sparks thrown out by a railway locomotive. Some- 
 body is responsible, a human somebody. The settler must 
 learn not to be careless with his land clearing, or the 
 sportsman with his camp-fire. The railway must be com- 
 pelled to burn oil instead of coal in forest regions, or to 
 use proper spark arresters. The only case for which the 
 Universe might be held responsible, is that of a fire caused 
 by lightning ; though a heavy wind may turn an apparently 
 harmless fire into a terrible agency of destruction, as in 
 the conflagration which swept northern Minnesota in 1918. 
 But even in such cases, the fire can be held in check, kept 
 from doing serious damage, by burning the slash, cutting 
 fire lanes through the woods, and keeping a strong enough 
 force of fire wardens patrolling the district. 
 
 116 
 
SHAPING THE COURSE OF PROVIDENCE 117 
 
 The animal forest fire loss in the United States is esti- 
 mated at $28,000,000, and the area burned over each year 
 is ten times greater than the areas of France devastated 
 by the War.^ The measure of man's assumption of respon- 
 sibility may be indicated by the following figures, taken 
 from three government reservations, which have been in 
 charge of technically trained forest supervisors since 1909. 
 A comparison is made between the seasons of 1910 and 
 1919, which were the worst since the establishment of the 
 Forest Service. The season of 1919 came as the culmina- 
 tion of three dry years. It also began earlier and con- 
 tinued six weeks longer than in 1910. As will be seen 
 from the figures, the losses were reduced by scientific man- 
 agement from 93 to 97.5 per cent.^ The protection given 
 would be still more adequate, if the necessary funds were 
 provided by Congress. 
 
 National Forest 
 
 Coeur d'Alene 
 
 Kaniksu 
 
 Lolo 
 
 Area, acres .... 
 
 790,234 
 
 702,405 
 
 1,181,018 
 
 Calendar years 
 
 1910 
 
 1919 
 
 1910 
 
 1919 
 
 1910 
 
 1919 
 
 No. of fires.... 
 
 272 
 
 113 
 
 38 
 
 89 
 
 133 
 
 332 
 
 Lightning .... 
 
 16 
 
 29 
 
 9 
 
 45 
 
 13 
 
 62 
 
 Human causes. 
 
 256 
 
 84 
 
 29 
 
 44 
 
 120 
 
 270 
 
 Total acreage 
 burned 
 
 502,000 
 
 49,760 
 
 19,117 
 
 7,283 
 
 188,700 
 
 98,944 
 
 Total damage.. 
 
 $6,975,000 
 
 $180,058 
 
 182,500 
 
 $9,858 
 
 $1,195,000 
 
 $84,460 
 
 Total cost of 
 suppression . 
 
 $126,114 
 
 $200,653 
 
 $29,748 
 
 $26,870 
 
 $77,772 
 
 $290,674 
 
 The fire loss in our towns and cities reached the alarm- 
 ing total of $219,571,000 in 1919, or enough to pay for 
 
 * Figures furnished to Congress by Am. Forestry Ass'n, Feb. 22, 
 1920. 
 
 *The figures have been given me by J". G, Peters, of the U. S. 
 Forest Service. 
 
118 CHAOS OR COSMOS? 
 
 the Panama Canal in less than two years. Civilized man 
 has developed elaborate machinery for putting out fires. 
 And a system of insurance has been built up, by which the 
 possibility of loss is carefully estimated and carried over 
 a series of years. But such measures place a heavy burden 
 on the community. In 1907 the fire hazard, including 
 both the destruction of property and the excess cost of pro- 
 tection and insurance due to faulty construction, was esti- 
 mated at $456,000,000, or nearly one-half the value of the 
 buildings erected during the year. Man will not assume 
 his full responsibility for this side of Providence, until he 
 has solved the problem of fire prevention. Practically 
 all conflagrations start from human carelessness. Of the 
 10,069 fires in New York City in 1911, the principal 
 causes were as follows: 
 
 Carelessness with lighted matches 1,366 
 
 Children playing with matches 354 
 
 Carelessness with cigars or cigarettes 970 
 
 Carelessness with candles 409 
 
 Carelessness with gas lights, ranges, etc 530 
 
 Overheated stoves, stovepipes, etc... 446 
 
 Chimney fires 509 
 
 Bonfires, brush fires, etc 698 
 
 Spontaneous combustion of oily waste 102 
 
 Lamps, kerosene, gasoline, etc 117 
 
 Electric wires, defective insulation . . ., 231 
 
 Vapor of benzine, gasoline, etc., igniting .... 209 
 
 There evidently is great need for the education of the 
 public along this line, and the enforcement of strict regu- 
 lations. Mr. Croker, after 27 years of active service in 
 the 'New York Fire Department, states that every fire is 
 preventable. Out of 12 million buildings in the United 
 States, he estimates that 11 million have been built in en- 
 tire disregard of the combustible nature of their materials. 
 Present "fire-proof" construction aims at saving the build- 
 ing itself, even if the contents are destroyed. "Death- 
 
SHAPING THE COURSE OF PROVIDENCE 119 
 
 proof" and "conflagration proof" should be added to the 
 specifications, the flames being confined to a definite area 
 by effective partitions. "Combustible and semi-combus- 
 tible materials must be absolutely eliminated. If I had 
 my way about it, I would not permit a piece of wood as 
 big as a man's finger to be used in the construction of any 
 building in the United States which had a ground area 
 larger than 25 by 50 feet and was more than three stories 
 in height." Automatic sprinkler systems, properly in- 
 stalled and maintained, reduce the fire risk from 50 to 
 80 per cent. 
 
 European cities furnish an instructive comparison with 
 our own country and suggest the possibilities of man's 
 control in the matter of fire. There is more widespread 
 use of non-combustible materials. An older civilization 
 has made the people more cautious. Fire marshals in- 
 vestigate the cause of every fire, which is considered a 
 crime for which the guilty party must be punished. The 
 fire losses in London and Paris in 1911 were respectively 
 one-fifth and one-ninth that of New York. The per capita 
 loss of $2.62 in the United States is reduced to $0.81 in 
 France, and $0.53 in England. Cincinnati, with about 
 the same population as Frankfort, Germany, shows a loss 
 of $5.70 for each inhabitant, as compared with $0.31.' 
 
 While man has gained great advantage through dis- 
 counting accident and death, as well as fire, by means of 
 insurance, a real control of Providence requires the pre- 
 vention of accidents and the prolongation of life. Much 
 has already been accomplished in these directions. 
 
 Old age, which may be postponed by right living, but 
 not prevented, brings a hardening of the arteries and a 
 weakening of the various tissues and organs. Pearl has 
 made an interesting biological classification of the normal 
 causes of death, as given in standard mortality tables. He 
 finds that human organs break down in the following order, 
 the figures representing the number of deaths per 100,000 
 
 »Edw. F. Croker, Fire Prevention, 1912. 
 
120 CHAOS OK COSMOS? 
 
 in the U. S. Kegistration Area from 1906-10: — respira- 
 tory system, 395.7; alimentary tract and associated organs, 
 334.9 ; circulatory system and blood, 209.8 ; nervous system 
 and sense organs, 175.7; kidneys and related excretory 
 organs, 107.2; primary and secondary sexual organs, 88.1 ; 
 skeletal and muscular system, 12.6; skin, 10.1; endocrinal 
 system, 1.5. The nervous system and skin, which have 
 sprung from the original ectoderm layer and represent 
 the greatest evolutionary adaptation, are responsible for 
 only 14.3% of the deaths; the mesoderm group (skeleton, 
 muscles, circulatory system, sex-organs, and kidneys) for 
 31.8% ; and the endoderm group (respiratory system and 
 alimentary tract), which has changed least, shows the 
 alarming total of 53.9%. "Practically, all public health 
 activities are directed toward overcoming the difficulties 
 which arise because man carries about this antediluvian 
 sort of endoderm. We endeavor to modify the environ- 
 ment, and soften its asperities down to the point where our 
 ovni inefficient endocrinal mechanism can cope with them, 
 by such methods as preventing bacteriological contamina- 
 tion of water, food and the like, warming the air we 
 breathe, etc." Figures for England and Wales are simi- 
 lar to those for the United States. In the Brazilian state 
 of San Paolo, however, where sanitation is less advanced, 
 the percentage of deaths due to the break-down of the 
 respiratory or alimentary systems, rises to 62.6.* 
 
 According to Dr. William J. Mayo, fifteen years have 
 been added to the average length of life in this country 
 since the close of the Civil War, with the prospect of add- 
 ing another fifteen years, within the next two decades. 
 He considers that 50 per cent of all sickness is preventable. 
 It is the duty of the State to guard the health of its citi- 
 zens through the prevention of disease. A nation is cul- 
 pable if its citizens are allowed to become ill through mani- 
 fest neglect. He cites the witness of the World War to 
 
 * Raymond Pearl, Am. Naturalist, 54, 5, 1920. 
 
SHAPING THE COURSE OF PROVIDENCE 121 
 
 the triumph of modem Medicine. "For the first time in 
 the history of wars, the number of deaths from casualties 
 was greater than the number of deaths from disease. 
 Eighty-five per cent (Billings) of the injured soldiers 
 were able to return to the firing line, and 5% more were 
 made fit for special or limited military duty in areas in 
 the rear; in the Civil War nearly half the soldiers were 
 out of the war permanently after injury, and a high per- 
 centage were at all times too ill from disease to render ef- 
 ficient service in battle. In the Spanish- American war 
 one man died of gunshot wounds to 30 who died of disease. 
 (Smart.)" ^ It is hard to realize the conditions in our 
 hospitals before the days of Pasteur and Lister. Antiseptic 
 and aseptic surgery have banished hospital gangrene, and 
 robbed child-birth of much of its terror. 
 
 The past few years have seen a marked decrease in in- 
 dustrial accidents. This is due to the educating of em- 
 ployer and employee, and to the use of safer types of ma- 
 chinery. Between 1913 and 1917, the number of fatal ac- 
 cidents in industry fell from 25,000 to 22,000, an im- 
 provement of 12% ; the number of serious accidents from 
 700,000 to 500,000, or 29%; and minor accidents, com- 
 pelling absence from work for six weeks, from 300,000 
 to 226,000, or 26%. Society as a whole has made less 
 progress. Of the 77,000 fatal accidents in the U. S. Eegis- 
 tration Area in 1917 (one-seventh of these due to violence), 
 55,000 were outside of industrial operations.® 
 
 One of the most impressive demonstrations is that from 
 the Panama Canal Zone. The laborers on the canal were 
 largely Negroes, working outdoors with heavy machinery. 
 The unhealthy climate was balanced by an exceptional 
 control of conditions by the Army Medical Service. Dur- 
 
 "N. Am. Review, Feb., 1920. 
 
 ' W. A. Evans, J. of Industrial Hygiene, 1, 397, 1919, from whom 
 I quote also the following figures from Dr. Gorgas. See further, 
 Wm. C. Gorgas, Sanitation in Pa/nama, 1915; David S. Beyer, In- 
 dustrial Aowient Prevention, 1916. 
 
122 CHAOS OR COSMOS? 
 
 ing the first year there was an epidemic of pneumonia ; in 
 the second year an increase of blasting and railroad work. 
 
 YEAE EMPLOYEES DEATH KATE DISEASE ^^TERITAL 
 
 1906 .... 26,547 
 
 41.73 
 
 39.66 
 
 2.07 
 
 1907 .... 39,238 
 
 28.74 
 
 25.44 
 
 4.30 
 
 1908 43,891 
 
 13.01 
 
 8.68 
 
 4.33 
 
 1909 .... 47,167 
 
 10.64 
 
 7.55 
 
 3.09 
 
 1910 .... 50,892 
 
 10.98 
 
 7.50 
 
 3.48 
 
 1911 48,876 
 
 11.02 
 
 7.65 
 
 3.38 
 
 1912 .... 51,852 
 
 9.26 
 
 6.36 
 
 2.81 
 
 1913 .... 56,654 
 
 8.35 
 
 5.24 
 
 3.11 
 
 1914 .... 44,329 
 
 7.04 
 
 4.40 
 
 2.64 
 
 1915 .... 34,785 
 
 5.77 
 
 4.05 
 
 1.72 
 
 1916 33,176 
 
 6.03 
 
 4.58 
 
 1.45 
 
 1917 .... 32,589 
 
 7.09 
 
 5.74 
 
 1.35 
 
 The unsanitary conditions in the larger cities during 
 the early part of the Industrial era are almost unbelievable. 
 In the London of 1850, with a population of over two mil- 
 lion, a third lived in houses unsupplied with water mains. 
 Much of the water obtainable was unfit for human con- 
 sumption. The city was seamed with open ditches, some 
 of them of the most horrible description. Bethnal 
 Green may be taken as a sample. With 33 miles of streets 
 and 100 miles of by-ways, none were paved and only a 
 few miles sewered. Slops were thrown from the windows, 
 the streets being the common reservoir for refuse, which 
 sometimes accumulated in great heaps. Scavenging was 
 entrusted to 13 decrepit old men, who took 90 days to 
 complete a single round. In the more crowded districts 
 of the city, typhus and other fevers were constantly pres- 
 ent. The death rate was 23.38 per thousand. The long 
 battle against "vested rights in filth and dirt," which be- 
 gan in 1855, reduced this in 50 years to 17.1, with a fur- 
 ther decrease during the present century. "^ 
 
 The germs of typhoid fever and cholera are spread 
 
 * Henry Jephson, Sanitary Evolution of Londcm, 1907; Havelock 
 Ellis, Problem of Race Regeneration, 1911. 
 
SHAPING THE COUESE OF PROVIDENCE 123 
 
 largely through the use of water that has been polluted by 
 sewage. The problem is being attacked at both ends. Sew- 
 age can be practically freed from bacterial life, either by 
 chemical treatment, or by the use of septic tanks or slow 
 filtration, permitting the growth of other types of bacteria. 
 These either destroy the harmful forms or so delay their 
 passage as to give them time to die out. The same methods 
 are used in the purification of the water supply. In Al- 
 bany, N. Y., where a filtration plan was installed in 1899, 
 the average annual death rate from typhoid was reduced 
 from 104 to 28 per 100,000, or 73%. In Hamburg, Ger- 
 many, where the water supply was taken directly from 
 the Elbe, a cholera epidemic in 1892 brought 17,000 cases 
 and 8,600 deaths. The neighboring city of Altona, which 
 used the same water, after additional contamination from 
 Hamburg sewage, had only a few sporadic cases of the dis- 
 ease, owing to the efficiency of its sand filter system. Ham- 
 burg promptly installed a water filtration plant, reducing 
 its annual death rate from typhoid by 85%. And the sav- 
 ing of ona death from typhoid fever, through the use of 
 better water, probably means the saving of two to three 
 deaths from other causes.* 
 
 But pure water was only a beginning. The increasing 
 care in handling milk and other food products, owing to 
 the growth of knowledge and public sentiment, is reducing 
 another fertile source of disease transmission.^ There are 
 no dangerous bacteria in milk from healthy cows which 
 have been properly cared for. Pasteurization, if done ac- 
 cording to approved methods, is an additional protection, 
 and has no injurious effect on the quality of the milk. 
 The city of Kochester, NT. Y., by the establishment of 
 
 •Marshall's Microbiology, 1917, 254-288; C. V. Chapin, Sources 
 and Modes of Infection, 2nd ed., 1912; Wm. T. Sedgwick, Prints 
 of Sanitary Science and the Public Health, 4th ed., 1914; H. W. 
 Hill, The New Public Health, 1916. 
 
 •Marshall's Microbiology, 1917; M. J. Bosenau, The MiVc Ques- 
 tion, 1912 J John C. Olsen, Pwre Foods, 1911. 
 
124 CHAOS OR COSMOS? 
 
 municipal milk stations, reduced nearly one^half the deaths 
 of children under Scve years old. 
 
 Probably 600,000 people in the United States still die 
 every year from preventable diseases. But the advance in 
 sanitary and medical science is beginning to tell in the 
 census figures. In the U. S. Kegistration Area, between 
 1900 and 1917, the deaths from typhoid were reduced from 
 35.9 to 13.4 per 100,000; diphtheria from 43.3 to 16.5; 
 tuberculosis from 201.9 to 146.4; infant diarrhea from 
 108.8 to 64. If we are living in a city of 100,000 people, 
 150 individuals are alive today who, under quite recent 
 conditions would have died last year from these four 
 causes alone. 
 
 The most notable advance has been in infant mortality, 
 that is of potential men and women dying in the first 
 year of their life. As some one has said, babies do not die, 
 they are killed. In 1910, about 12Y out of every thousand 
 born were deprived of the chance to live and develop. For 
 some foreign countries the figures were still higher, al- 
 though a marked decrease was everywhere registered over 
 a period 25 years earlier. In 1917, the U. S. Registra- 
 tion Area showed a mortality rate of 94, or 33 more babies 
 saved out of every thousand. On April 6, 1918, a Chil- 
 dren's Year was inaugurated, partly as a war measure, one 
 of the objectives being to save the lives of 100,000 babies. 
 The results cannot be given in statistics. But "millions of 
 adults in this country have learned through the Weighing 
 and Measuring tests alone that weight in relation to height 
 and age gives a rough index of normal development ; that 
 hundreds of thousands of children are undernourished 
 and suffering from other defects which are preventable or 
 remediable; that child welfare is, in short, an important 
 national problem." ^^ Through the Red Cross and other 
 agencies, public health nurses are being placed in cities 
 and rural counties, as fast as trained workers can be se- 
 cured. 
 
 " Chief, Children's Bureau, Seventh An, Report, 1919, 10. 
 
SHAPING THE COURSE OF PEOVIDENCE 125 
 
 For the unsanitary conditions described, and the suffer- 
 ing, weakness and high mortality resulting, Man not God 
 must be held responsible. And the remedies have been 
 due to the cooperation of Man with God, along the lines 
 suggested in previous chapters. It is a human prerogative 
 and duty to learn the laws of the Universe relating to 
 health and safety, and the control of its forces, physical 
 and organic, in the direction of a better environment. But 
 this work has been carried still further. Much is being 
 done toward the complete elimination of hostile bacteria. 
 No side of Man's control of Providence is more instructive 
 and inspiring. 
 
 Smallpox has been wiped out of Germany, by the thor- 
 ough use of vaccination. Only ignorance or prejudice pre- 
 vents us from wiping it from the earth. The battle against 
 Tuberculosis, though set back by the War, may be won 
 by the gradual education of the people, and the discovery 
 and isolation of all persons who act as carriers of the 
 tubercle bacillus. It will be a long and expensive contest, 
 but we have learned the strategy by which it must be 
 fought.^* Malaria, one of the most disabling of man's 
 diseases, is being eliminated by immunizing with quinine, 
 by screening windows, and by destroying the breeding 
 places of its carrier, the anopheles mosquito. In Ham- 
 burg, Arkansas, the number of cases of malaria, as regis- 
 tered by physicians' calls, was reduced from 2,312 in 
 1916 to 59 in 1918. The cost of the campaign per capita 
 was $1.45 in 1917, and the following year only 44 cents. 
 Previously the town's annual doctors' bills had been eight 
 times the cost of protection in 1918. This does not take 
 account of the heavy financial loss due to the disease it- 
 self. In other words, it was cheaper to get rid of malaria 
 than to have it.^^ 
 
 I select another example from the world-wide activities 
 
 " See S. A. Knopf, Tuberculosis a Preventable and Curable Disease, 
 1909. 
 " Rockefeller Foimdation, Annual Report, 1918, 31, 188 ff. 
 
126 CHAOS OR COSMOS? 
 
 of the Rockefeller Foundation. Yellow Fever has been 
 driven from a number of its centers of infection, with the 
 prospect that it will in the near future be eliminated from 
 the earth. Attention in 1918 and 1919 was directed to 
 Central America. A commission sent to make a special 
 study of the disease, succeeded in isolating the yellow fever 
 organism, which hitherto had baffled biologists. An epi- 
 demic raging in Guatemala led to the assignment of Dr. 
 Joseph H. White, of the Army Medical Service, to work 
 in cooperation with the Guatemalan government. The 
 routes of infection were traced, rigid quarantines enforced, 
 and active measures taken to destroy the sources of infec- 
 tion. In less than six months time. Dr. White was able to 
 report that no yellow fever remained in Guatemala. 
 Equally striking results were achieved at Guayaquil, 
 Ecuador, which has been known as the pest hole of the 
 Pacific. The swampy situation of the town and the utter 
 lack of sanitation made it a seed-bed, not only for yellow 
 fever, but for cholera, smallpox and bubonic plague. The 
 work begun in 1916 by General Gorgas, was resumed after 
 the War. The same methods were followed that had 
 proved so successful in Cuba and Panama. A campaign 
 of education enlisted the support of all classes of the people. 
 Modern water and sewerage systems were installed. The 
 streets were paved, and kept clean of refuse. Houses were 
 screened, and a thorough campaign undertaken to destroy 
 the breeding places of the stegomyia mosquito, which acts 
 as carrier of the disease, ^o yellow fever appeared in 
 the summer of 1919, and Dr. Gorgas considered that the 
 sanitary work already completed was sufficient to prevent 
 reinfection. Human science and enterprise have trans- 
 formed Guayaquil from a plague spot into one of the safest 
 cities on the coast.^^ Work was continued in other regions, 
 and by the middle of November, 1919, "yellow fever had 
 been practically banished from Central America." ^^ 
 
 »/d., 83 ff; Outlook, Nov. 26, 1919. 
 ^Annual Report, 1919, 19. 
 
SHAPING THE COURSE OF PROVIDENCE 127 
 
 Another aspect of Providence, the responsibility for so- 
 cial conditions, may be illustrated by Man^s relation to 
 Prostitution and Intemperance. To hold God responsible 
 for the harlot or the drunkard would be to misread the 
 facts of the world. As Flexner puts it : "Prostitution is a 
 modifiable phenomenon. . . . According as society prefers, 
 there may be more or less of it" The attempts at regula- 
 tion, through the licensing and medical examination of 
 professional prostitutes, proved an utter failure, and have 
 been abandoned in practically all European countries. 
 Medical men now realize that masculine immorality is 
 neither necessary nor wholesome. Experience shows that 
 exploitation and artificial stimulation of the traffic can be 
 checked by proper laws, and able and conscientious offi- 
 cials. Ample governmental provisions may be made for 
 the treatment and cure of sexual diseases, as in Norway 
 and Denmark. From this point, the problem becomes part 
 of the general problem of social betterment, and the raising 
 of community standards.^ ^ We are beginning to have, 
 as Jane Addams says, a new conscience toward an ancient 
 evil. During the War, notable work was done by the 
 American government and cooperating agencies, not only 
 among the soldiers, but in war-camp communities and 
 munition centers. Among the methods followed were a 
 campaign of education; personal work with individuals, 
 especially young girls ; provision for occupation and amuse- 
 ment ; strict regulations and penalties ; the prohibition of 
 liquor; and medical treatment. 
 
 Remarkable progress has been made in recent years in 
 the battle against Alcoholism, with the physical, moral and 
 economic losses that have come in its train. In America, 
 the organized sentiment of the Church on this question has 
 been reinforced by a number of powerful influences. 
 Among these we may enumerate the growing realization 
 
 "Abraham Flexner, The Regulation of Prostituticm in Europe, 
 Am. Social Hygiene Ass'n, 1914; Jane Addams, A New Conscience 
 and an Ancient Evil, 1912. 
 
128 CHAOS OE COSMOS? 
 
 of the economic factor, the stand taken against alcohol by 
 the medical profession, the apparently hopeless corruption 
 of the liquor traffic, the failure of all attempts at regula- 
 tion, and the success of total prohibition as tried out by 
 various states and cities. As Dr. Mayo says, prohibition 
 has been made possible by the supply of potable water now 
 almost universally available. The movement culminated 
 in the outlawing of the manufacture and sale of liquor 
 in the United States, in the interest of national efficiency. 
 Adopted as a war measure, the policy was made permanent 
 in 1919 by constitutional amendment Figures coming to 
 hand from all sections of the country indicate a marked 
 reduction in crime, the practical elimination of the city 
 tramp, and an increase in savings. The reduced popula- 
 tion in public institutions, estimated in Massachusetts 
 alone as saving four million dollars annually, will more 
 than pay the cost of enforcement. Labor disturbances 
 have been singularly free from violence, and the efficiency 
 of labor has been increased, as far as comparisons can be 
 made. Canada is largely on a prohibition basis. Similar 
 movements are under way in various countries of northern 
 Europe. By the International Convention, signed at St. 
 Germain in 1919, liquor is prohibited on the entire Afri- 
 can continent, with the exception of Algeria, Tunis, Egypt 
 and the Union of South Africa. 
 
 Of Man's responsibility for famine and other disasters, 
 the most striking recent examples are the feeding of Bel- 
 gium under Mr. Hoover's administration,^^ and the relief 
 work of the American Ked Cross during the last half of 
 the War. As one reads the story of the latter in the pages 
 of Mr. Davison,^"^ one's growing horror of the destruction 
 and cruelty of man at his worst is overshadowed by the 
 sense of man's power for good, in cooperating for the relief 
 of distress and the betterment of living conditions. And the 
 
 "See Commission for Relief in Belgium, Final Report, 1917; 
 Vernon Kellogg, Fighting Starvation in Belgium, 1918. 
 "H. P. Davison, The Ameriown Red Cross, 1919. 
 
SHAPING THE COUESE OF PEOVIDENCE 129 
 
 means he uses, or misuses, are the same Divine forces that 
 we have seen him learning to know and control in other 
 fields. Man's capacity for shaping Providence appears to 
 be limited only by his ability to understand and work with 
 the Uni versa 
 
PART III. 
 THE MORALITY OF THE UNIVERSE. 
 
PAET III. 
 
 THE MOKALITY OF THE UNIVEKSE. 
 Section. 1. Individual Relations. 
 XIII. 
 
 THE PLACE OF ALTRUISM. 
 
 Our study of Providence has done more than confirm 
 the democratic character of the Universe, the fact that Man 
 and God have entered into contract for the betterment of 
 the world. It has suggested that there may be some defi- 
 nite connection between the success of such altruistic move- 
 ments by man, the party of the first part, and the character 
 of God, the party of the second part. Are goodness and 
 altruism and social responsibility natural to the Universe ? 
 Do they function in a way that may be considered normal, 
 as the Christian hypothesis assumes? Can we say that 
 the Environment to which the scientist, the mechanic, the 
 business man and the statesman are adjusting their lives, 
 reflects the character which Jesus taught by word and by 
 example ? This is the final test of Christianity, which will 
 occupy our attention in the remainder of the book. 
 
 Our task in the present chapter is to discover and ap- 
 praise the Altruism that finds a place in human society. 
 I use altruism in the sense in which Jesus applies the 
 term "love" to God and man, as covering primarily the 
 interest in and activity for others, which we find in a 
 social order, as contrasted with self-interest and individual 
 action. Though emotion normally accompanies such ac- 
 
 133 
 
134 CHAOS OE COSMOS? 
 
 tivity for others, many writers on Christianity have erred 
 in putting the emphasis on feeling. I do not find this view 
 of Christian altruism home out by Jesus' teaching,^ and 
 my interpretation is confirmed by the rest of the New 
 Testament, notably Paul's analysis in 1 Corinthians 13. 
 
 We have first the altruism within the Family group. 
 By far the greater part of human effort is for others rather 
 than for self. The primary motive in labor is the support 
 of a family. Domestic love gets the world's work done. 
 It is for wife and children that the average hand-worker 
 undergoes long hours of exhausting toil. If he demands 
 more wages, it is that those he loves may have more food to 
 eat, better clothes to wear, more luxuries and pleasures. 
 The same is true of the clerk, the teacher, the business man. 
 How many of us would work year after year simply for 
 work's sake ? If we save out of our income, it generally is 
 that our family may be insured against want, or that our 
 children may be given more education and a better start 
 in life. Out of these love-prompted savings is accumulated 
 the world's capital, which turns the wheels of industry. 
 Most young people go to work, either that their parents 
 may be relieved of their support, or because others are 
 dependent on their earnings. The allotment returns of 
 the War Risk Insurance Bureau showed what a large 
 proportion of our young men were contributing to the sup- 
 port of parents or brothers or sisters. When a young fel- 
 low falls in love, he begins to save for a home the money 
 he otherwise would spend on himself. The rich man 
 strives for further wealth, largely that he may have more 
 to leave to his children. Riches may not be good for his 
 children, any more than a sudden access of luxury to the 
 laborer's children. But the motive in each case is altru- 
 istic. What appears to be selfish striving, turns out to be 
 selfishness for the sake of others. The childless home is 
 a home that has lost its economic motive. The instinct 
 of acquisition has ceased to have any biological value. 
 
 *(7/. later p. 149. 
 
THE PLACE OF ALTRUISM 135 
 
 If the man makes a home possible, the woman makes it 
 real. The work of the wife and mother is essentially 
 altruistic. From the day of her marriage, she lives for her 
 husband and his needs. For love of other lives that are to 
 be, she endures the burden and pain of child-bearing. She 
 gives herself to her children during the years of helpless 
 infancy, and the equally exacting years of childhood. She 
 nurses them in sickness. She starves herself if need be, 
 that they may have food. She lives in their lives, and 
 believes in them though they were 'Ranged on the highest 
 hill." Many women, like many men, are unworthy of 
 marriage. The spread of lu-^airy has doubtless proved an 
 undermining influence in the home. But the fact that 
 10% of American marriages end in divorce, only serves 
 to bring out in sharper contrast the 90% which do not. 
 
 This labor for those they love brings direct returns to 
 the individuals. What a man gives up for the sake of a 
 home, he receives back in love, in comfort, in new inter- 
 ests, in the gratification of more unselfish ambitions. A 
 mother finds her life by losing it. The responsibilities of 
 a home teach steadiness, frugality, patience, self-sacrifice. 
 By no conceivable change in human nature could free 
 love or marital communism or polygamy ever produce as 
 efficient members of the social order. Our Western civili- 
 zation has been built up on the idealism of the monogamous 
 family. 
 
 I pass to the altruism of wider groups, involving other 
 centripetal instincts. The Church is essentially an altru- 
 istic enterprise. The compulsion to membership is social. 
 The individual seeks salvation through the group. Or he 
 finds in the church organization a channel for the expres- 
 sion of his altruistic feelings, and an outlet for his benevo- 
 lence, a means for realizing a better social order. He 
 feels the inspiration of common ideals. And because of 
 this, he gives time and money to the church. In return 
 for such effort for others, he receives dividends in inward 
 satisfaction, in the training of character, in the improve- 
 
130 CHAOS OR COSMOS? 
 
 ment of social conditions, in the fraternal solidarity of tlie 
 membership, in the knowledge that his fellow members will 
 stand behind him in case of need. The hold of this altru- 
 istic movement on American life is shown by the fact that 
 nearly 45 million persons are directly affiliated with it. 
 They have been contributing annually over 328 million 
 dollars for its support, and probably an equal amount to 
 its work for those outside the membership. Freed from 
 any entangling alliance with the State, the Church in 
 America has been second only to the Family as a force for 
 making efficient and dependable men and women. The 
 return to Jesus' teaching, in its emphasis on social service 
 as well as individual salvation, is giving it a new position 
 of leadership in industrial and national relations. 
 
 Fraternal organizations have taken a strong hold on 
 the people of our country. The merely social orders, like 
 the Masons and Odd Fellows, number nearly 19 million 
 members. This does not include the college and school 
 fraternities, or societies among the Negroes. In the typi- 
 cal lodge, the sense of mutual obligation is strongly culti- 
 vated. A member recognizes the brothers of his order by 
 badges, grips and signs, and is expected to render them 
 practical support and aid. He can count on such assis- 
 tance in return. In time of sickness, his comrades visit 
 him and minister to his comfort. In 1869 the Ancient 
 Order of United Workmen added the insurance feature. 
 The various benefit orders, of which 200 are listed in the 
 Fraternal Monitor for 1920, number 123,431 lodges and 
 9,218,101 members. The habit of joining lodges has led to 
 considerable overlapping. The total insurance in force is 
 over 10 billion dollars, and $3,263,800,928 has been paid 
 by the various societies in death or sickness benefits since 
 their organization. The advantage to the individual from 
 this type of altruism, is obvious. Whether in sympathetic 
 aid or in insurance protection, he receives quid pro quo. 
 
 As our next example I take the Labor Union. In modern 
 Industry the isolated worker, unless commanding special- 
 
THE PLACE OF ALTRUISM 137 
 
 ized skill, has been at a serious disadvantage. From this 
 fact has grown the organized labor movement, which in- 
 cludes nearly ^ve million men, or a third of those en- 
 gaged in manufacturing, transportation and mechanical 
 labor, besides a considerable number of women. Over 4 
 million are affiliated with the American Federation of 
 Labor. The expressed aim of this organization has been 
 to secure, through collective bargaining, a fair share in the 
 partnership between labor and capital. Although the ad- 
 vantage of solidarity would appear to be self-evident, it 
 has not been won without a hard struggle with human 
 nature. The instinct of imjnediate self-interest (or fam- 
 ily interest) is so strong, especially in a time of labor 
 surplus, that it requires a strong sense of altruism for the 
 worker to seek advantage through the group, rather than 
 by securing and holding the best job he can obtain alone. 
 This sense of common interest has been learned only 
 through experience. One of the most instructive instances 
 is the history of the men's garment trades, largely carried 
 on by Jewish immigrants from Russia and Austria. The 
 work was done in sweat-shops, under the most unsanitary 
 conditions. Workers were underpaid and subjected to a 
 great deal of petty tyranny. In 1888, under the leader- 
 ship of the Socialist intellectuals in New York, an organi- 
 zation was formed of the United Hebrew Trades, and 
 15,000 Jewish tailors won a strike for better conditions. 
 Lack of experience and education, and the constant influx 
 of new immigrants from various countries of Europe, made 
 it difficult to consolidate the advances. The organization 
 of workers was likely to fall apart as soon as their fight 
 was won. In 1910 the men's clothing workers were able 
 to muster 100,000 for a general strike. In 1915 the 
 Amalgamated Clothing Workers of America, a secession 
 from the American Federation of Labor, won its strike in 
 "New York. Although the bitter struggle in Chicago was 
 lost, it led four years later to the partnership agreement 
 in the clothing industry, signed between the employers 
 
138 CHAOS OR COSMOS? 
 
 and the workers, now practically 100 per cent organized. 
 The sweat-shop has practically disappeared. From being 
 the most oppressed and degraded, the men's garment work- 
 ers have become perhaps the best paid of any semi-skilled 
 labor group, and under the best working conditions. The 
 educational work required to weld the trade into a united 
 body, working and often sacrificing heavily for common 
 ends, will be seen from the fact that the official papers of 
 the Amalgamated Clothing Workers are published in Eng- 
 lish, Yiddish, Italian, Polish, Bohemian and Lithuanian.^ 
 
 The altruism of the labor movement has a wider aspect. 
 The growing group consciousness of hand workers as a 
 whole finds frequent expression in the moral and financial 
 support given by one union organization to another, and 
 in sympathetic strikes. Some of the latter may have been 
 quixotic and ill-judged. But it is certainly a remarkable 
 example of altruism when a body of workers gives a part 
 of their earnings, and even surrenders their jobs without 
 any assurance of regaining them, in order to aid the 
 struggle of another body of workers, perhaps in a different 
 trade or hundreds of miles away. This sense of class soli- 
 darity in the workers of today, the widespread passion for 
 justice, democracy and brotherhood, as far as these affect 
 their group, might almost be termed a religion. It is 
 idealism of the highest order, the struggle for others rather 
 than merely for self. But whatever advantage was gained 
 by the sympathetic strike, was in the end reciprocal. If 
 you helped the man of another trade in his battle, he would 
 be likely to help you in your battle. An advance in one 
 field of labor made it easier to secure advances all along 
 the line. In a later chapter it may be necessary to appraise 
 the labor union movement from the standpoint of society 
 as a whole. I am merely describing it here in relation 
 to the individual trade unionist, as an example of the 
 change from individual to group action, or as we might put 
 it, from family to social altruism. 
 
 ^ A more detailed study of this movement will be found on p. 224. 
 
THE PLACE OF ALTRUISM 139 
 
 Patriotism is the broadest of the altruistic interests 
 which we shall consider. In normal times it is little in 
 evidence. Except for spasms of community betterment, 
 and the passions and enthusiasms called out by recurring 
 elections, the average citizen appears satisfied to go about 
 his business or his pleasure, leaving the politicians to run 
 the government. It is the same the world over. A few 
 years ago, one wondered whether the progress of civiliza- 
 tion had destroyed the idealism, the devotion and courage 
 of the race. But those who looked deeper, realized that 
 this apathy to higher interests was in appearance only. 
 The things men are ready to die for are the things they 
 really value. Some may risk their lives in pleasure. They 
 enjoy the thrill of excitement and danger in automobile 
 racing or aviation feats. But no one would go into an 
 aeroplane trial if he knew he would be killed. Men risk 
 their lives in business : to secure big wages, to reap large 
 dividends. But you could not hire a man to kill himself. 
 If I may use the paradox, people all over the world were 
 living for the things men will not die for. 
 
 But suddenly their nations became involved in war, in 
 what they believed was a necessary and righteous struggle. 
 And there was revealed to us the idealism that is latent 
 in ordinary men and women, the love of country which it 
 needs only a great crisis to call forth. Never has there 
 been a war with so few cowards or so few laggards. !N"ever 
 before, in the world's long history, have so many offered 
 their lives for an ideal. Of the work of the American 
 soldier I need not speak. Only the sudden ending of the 
 war prevented him from matching in quantity as he did in 
 quality the sacrifice of England and her colonies, of Bel- 
 gium, of France and Italy, of Kussia and Serbia and 
 Eoumania. Modern wars are wars of peoples, not of 
 armies alone. In my work with the home organization of 
 the Eed Cross, I had occasion to become intimately ac- 
 quainted with half the counties of one state. On my mind 
 is left an indelible composite picture of the American com- 
 
140 CHAOS OE COSMOS? 
 
 munity. The universal and largely spontaneous organiza- 
 tion for public service. Leading business men giving up 
 their business, often for months at a time, to devote them- 
 selves to patriotic enterprises. The repeated drives for 
 money, and the unvarying enthusiasm of the response. 
 Women knitting everywhere. The work room with its 
 humming sewing machines, and the piles of completed 
 socks and hospital garments. The white-robed workers on 
 surgical dressings, folding in mystic silence the endless 
 yards of gauze. Food conservation, each household cor- 
 recting its habits of waste, and cheerfully altering its diet, 
 that the soldiers and workmen of the Allies might be fed. 
 Even the children sewing, and gathering salvage, and 
 planting war gardens, and saving their money for thrift 
 stamps, and stinting themselves on sugar. The organized 
 neighborliness of the Eed Cross home service, caring for 
 the soldiers' families in every need. The canteens at the 
 railway junctions, serving coffee and sandwiches to train- 
 loads of men in khaki, at any hour of the day or night. 
 For two years the average American community was on an 
 altruistic basis, finding its joy in the service of a common 
 cause rather than in the service of self. 
 
 The real point in this familiar picture which is framed 
 in our memories, is the fact that social altruism, the co- 
 operation of the individual in the national cause, was an 
 advantage to the individual. The American nation en- 
 tered the War, because it had suddenly and rather tardily 
 become convinced that its own safety and the perpetuation 
 of its institutions was at stake. And the military victory, 
 which secured these vital ends, was made possible by the 
 patriotism and team work of the people at home. What 
 upset Germany's calculations, and sent an irresistible 
 stream of men and supplies across the Atlantic, was the 
 public support of our government. This was registered in 
 the adoption and smooth working of the selective draft, 
 the saving of concentrated foods, the increased production 
 on American farms, the supplies made by the women, the 
 
THE PLACE OF ALTRUISM 141 
 
 mobilization for shipbuilding and munition making. Loy- 
 alty and cooperation brought the result for which the indi- 
 vidual was striving, and on which his well-being depended. 
 The tide of idealism ebbed rapidly after the War. But 
 there can be no question that a similar crisis would bring 
 the same popular response. And the patriotism of the 
 citizen in critical periods is an index of the advantage he 
 finds in the normal operations of his government. Men 
 cooperate as a nation because they realize that it pays to 
 cooperate. The feeling of bitterness toward the revolu- 
 tionist is an instinct of self-preservation. 
 
 This list of altruistic enterprises is not intended to be 
 exhaustive. I have merely selected, from a single country, 
 the more prominent examples of a certain type, which illus- 
 trate the principle of a direct return to the individual from 
 the altruism which he shows within the organization. It is 
 evident that sympathy and cooperation rank with, and 
 perhaps surpass, selfishness, as motives in the everyday 
 life of man. 
 
 Both Biology and Sociology bear witness to the same 
 fact. We have begun to recover from the one-sided empha- 
 sis on the struggle for existence. Such conscious struggle 
 as we find in the lower organisms is largely for the sake 
 of offspring ; it is sacrificial rather than self-assertive. In 
 general the strongest animal groups are those which have 
 developed the instincts of mutual aid, and to some extent 
 of affection and sympathy. Cooperating animals were 
 able to secure a better food supply and better protection. 
 We see this in the ants and bees, in migratory birds, in 
 the ungulates, rodents, and ruminants. The only notable 
 exceptions among the Mammals are some species of car- 
 nivora, which were strong enough to live without mutual 
 protection. Association tended to develop intelligence. 
 The higher apes are exceedingly gregarious; they hunt 
 and fight together, communicating by rude sounds. The 
 current view is that man's most distinctive feature, a de- 
 veloped speech mechanism, grew out of the social habits 
 
142 CHAOS OR COSMOS? 
 
 of his immediate ancestors. Modem studies in Anthro- 
 pology indicate that the earliest human races lived in 
 groups of considerable size, that is in societies rather than 
 in isolated families. Cooperation and loyalty, which were 
 purely instinctive in the lower animals, were taught to 
 the human child along with other accumulated experiences 
 of the clan. But the instincts were there, as part of the 
 child's inherited brain mechanism. All that was necessary 
 was to reinforce them and direct their expression. 
 
 Idealism is not an exotic in human life. The practice 
 of altruism is necessary if an organized body of men is 
 to survive. Within any social group, sympathy and 
 mutual aid are a normal condition; selfish individualism 
 is abnormal. 
 
XIV. 
 
 THE HIGHER SELFISHNESS. 
 
 The social phenomenon we have been describing, which 
 might be termed group altruism, brings an evident advan- 
 tage to the individual members of the group. All social 
 and political organization is based on this fact. It pays 
 the individual to consider the interest of the other mem- 
 bers of the group. Jesus broadens the principle to cover 
 society as a whole. He expands the group into a world. 
 The obligations of a churchman to his fellow members 
 should be extended to the entire community, Samaritan 
 and Gentile as well as Jew. The strength of family, fra- 
 ternity, guild or nation, shows the possibilities in a broth- 
 erhood that will include men of every race and class. 
 Jesus enjoins such consideration for the interest of all 
 other persons without distinction, as we give to our own 
 interest or that of our group, and predicts the same reflex 
 advantage. The Universe is arranged on that plan. Such 
 an attitude is a condition of successful adjustment. 
 
 Is this true ? Does the Christian theory work in actual 
 practice? A first superficial view of the field gives a 
 negative answer. The selfish and vicious man often suc- 
 ceeds in business, where, apparently with equal ability 
 and opportunity, the just and considerate man fails, when 
 he strives for a common objective. The same is true of the 
 selfish corporation or nation. This fact has puzzled both 
 Jewish and Christian thought, and led many to assume 
 that moral retribution must be evened up in the future life. 
 The later readjustment of rewards may prove to be a fact. 
 But to rest on such an assumption is to deny the essentially 
 
 143 
 
144 CHAOS OE COSMOS? 
 
 moral character of the present world. This is also true 
 if we fall back on the statement that the considerate and 
 righteous man gains more real satisfaction out of life. 
 Inward joy may be a better criterion of success than 
 material prosperity ; many deliberately turn their back on 
 the latter in order to retain the former. But if the good 
 men have all the joy, while the bad men have all the pros- 
 perity, we can hardly call the world Christian. Under 
 those conditions, the great majority of people, at least in 
 our Western civilization, would go after the prosperity. 
 Jesus teaches no bargain counter ethics. But his theory 
 demands that, in the long run, the good man should not 
 only have more satisfaction, but that he also shall be more 
 successful in earning a living, in doing the work of the 
 world, in striving for those natural and legitimate rewards 
 which offer themselves in human society. 
 
 Our previous discussion should give us a better perspec- 
 tive in viewing man's adjustment to the Universe. Such 
 an adjustment we have seen to be many-sided. The moral 
 phase which we are now considering is only the conclud- 
 ing chapter of the story. Practical success may be due to 
 a more religious attitude, a closer communion and co- 
 operation with God, along some special line of human 
 activity. It may represent a more complete adjustment 
 in physical labor, in the knowledge of plants and animals, 
 or in the field of health or of mental activity. If God is 
 present and active in all the extra-human Universe, re- 
 ligion is as broad as life itself. In running a lathe, re- 
 ligion consists in getting the most out of the material. In 
 farming it is shown in the care taken of one's cows or 
 fruit trees. The bad man who succeeds may be found to 
 have more physical stamina. Or he has been in closer 
 communion with God in the mental field. He has applied 
 himself more faithfully, made better use of his mental 
 resources, followed more successfully the psychological 
 laws that lie at the root of business. The same may be 
 true of the officers and soldiers of an army. From a moral 
 
THE HIGHER SELFISHNESS 145 
 
 point of view, the German armies at the beginning of the 
 War were behaving very badly. And yet they won vic- 
 tories, because they had complied with the other condi- 
 tions which make for success. Complete adjustment in any 
 line is bound to bring results. The Universe plays fair. 
 
 The question before us therefore should be put in this 
 form. Granting not only equal ability and opportunity, 
 but equal health and equal mental responsiveness, and 
 compliance with the conditions that make for success in 
 the non-moral field, do consideration and character prove 
 an advantage ? Do they appear in the Universe as business 
 assets ? Does the Christian theory as to the character of 
 God and the consequent obligations of a man to his fellow 
 men, produce more efficient members of the social order? 
 In this and the following chapters we consider the indi- 
 vidual, taking up later the economic system and the life of 
 nations. 
 
 The practical value of consideration and courtesy has 
 been discovered by many people. As a general rule of life, 
 it will approve itself to any one who cares to put it to the 
 test. I have only to watch my own nursery to see a cari- 
 cature of the doctrine that you gain what you fight for. 
 Perhaps the child does get the plaything he fights for. But 
 he loses more than he gains. He cuts himself off from 
 other playthings and common games which a more gener- 
 ous attitude would have secured. Jesus was right in say- 
 ing that in our treatment of others, in the ordinary inter- 
 course of life, we reap what we sow. 
 
 A single example will suffice. James Freeman Clarke 
 has left a description of a stage-coach journey from Bos- 
 ton to Kentucky, in 1833. Their route lay through the 
 Cattaraugus woods, where the mud and rough corduroy 
 made travelling extremely uncomfortable. There was 
 every temptation to be cross. One man, however, so en- 
 livened the company and was so good-natured and accom- 
 modating, that the other occupants of the stage-coach took 
 the same tone. Instead of a disagreeable journey, they 
 
146 CHAOS OR COSMOS? 
 
 felt, as he says, as if they were having a pleasant picnic. 
 Mr. Clarke, being a man of sense, adopted this as a method 
 of heightening his own enjoyment on the rest of the trip. 
 As soon as they took their places in the coach, he would 
 show an interest in the other passengers and their com- 
 fort. If they preferred his seat to their own, he would 
 offer to change places. Such attentions had the desired 
 result. He found that his companions would almost always 
 follow his lead, and take pains to be polite and accommo- 
 dating.^ 
 
 So great is the value of consideration, from a selfish 
 standpoint, that it has actually been capitalized by modem 
 business men. Until the last half of the 19th century, 
 retail trade in the United States was on the basis of catch- 
 who-catch-can, as is still the case in many of the smaller 
 towns of Europe, and everywhere in the Orient. The 
 store-keeper looked on the customer as his victim. Stores 
 were dark and prices were not plainly marked. The sales- 
 man charged the highest prices the customer would pay. 
 If a poorer quality of goods could be substituted, it was 
 considered legitimate to do so. To escape from a store 
 without buying was a difficult matter, and might subject 
 one to considerable rudeness. When John Wanamaker, in 
 1861, introduced into Oak Hall in Philadelphia the idea 
 of "but one price and that plainly marked," it meant the 
 beginning of a revolution in the attitude of a store-keeper 
 toward the public. Courtesy was required of all employees. 
 Ten years later, on opening the great store at Tenth and 
 Market streets, he announced that any purchasers who 
 were not satisfied with their goods could have their money 
 refunded. People were invited to come to the store even 
 if they had no intention of buying. Special efforts were 
 made for their comfort. The store was to be considered, 
 not merely as a shopping center, but as a place to rest or 
 to meet one's friends. To the older business men in 
 Philadelphia, such methods seemed suicidal. They under- 
 
 »E. E. Hale, Jameg Freenum Clarke, 1891, 59. 
 
THE HIGHER SELFISHNESS 147 
 
 mined what had always been considered the foundation 
 principle of retail trade. But the doctrine of considera- 
 tion for others proved so much more successful than the 
 doctrine of selfishness, that stores all over the country- 
 were obliged to revolutionize their methods. "Modern 
 storekeeping is no longer a horse-trading business or a 
 peddler^s dickering. It is a serious business, cleanly and 
 honestly conducted. It is finding a market for and dia- 
 tributing the world's merchandise." ^ 
 
 The past twenty years have confirmed the statement 
 given by Wanamaker himself as to the relation between 
 seller and buyer which lies at the foundation of modem 
 business evolution. The growth of retail business has been 
 based solely on public service. The ambition of the mod- 
 em retailer is to give the best merchandise at the least 
 cost. While he cannot control the cost of production, he 
 can modify the cost of distribution and his own margin 
 of profit. His working principle is the minimum of profit 
 that will create the maximum of business. Any combina- 
 tion between rival firms would raise prices, diminish sales, 
 and reduce the net return to the store-keeper. Such con- 
 trol of the retail trade as is attainable, rests entirely on 
 superior service and lower prices. Popularity, founded 
 tipon actual worth, is its sole power to command.^ 
 
 That the same attitude toward the public is being 
 adopted by large corporations is seen from the statement 
 by Judge Gary for the United States Steel Corporation: 
 "There is developing and becoming fixed in our companies 
 at least, all along the line, a determination to conduct af- 
 fairs in such a way that we will not cause injury to any- 
 body, and, on the contrary, that we will benefit everybody 
 affected by us; and that includes fair and decent and 
 honest treatment of our employees, our stockholders, our 
 competitors in business, our customers, and the general 
 public, because we believe it is not only good policy from 
 
 ^Golden Book of the Wanamaker Stores, 1911, 180. 
 
 * Evol» of Mercantile Business, Am. Acad, of Pol. Scl., 1900, part 3. 
 
148 CHAOS OR COSMOS? 
 
 the standpoint of pecuniary success, but because we believe 
 it is right" ^ One item of this program, that relating to 
 the employees, one might wish to refer to the Interchurch 
 World Movement But how distant and barbaric sounds 
 the statement of corporation policy from the last genera- 
 tion : "The public be damned !" On the peaceful dissolu- 
 tion of the meat-packing combination, in the same year, 
 the statement was made by the packers that heretofore 
 they had conducted their business upon the basis of 
 economics and legality, but that now they had taken ao- 
 count of the goodwill of the public.^ 
 
 Is consideration for others really self-interest? This 
 undoubtedly is the view taken by Jesus. He considers 
 himself to be formulating a law of human society. The 
 selfish man is the unsocial and abnormal man. Recog- 
 nition of common interest in all our relations means the 
 socializing of the individual. It completes the process 
 already begun within the group. Because of the mutuality 
 of interest in any community, because the goodwill of 
 those with whom we are dealing is such a valuable asset, 
 it is to a man's advantage to promote the interest of others. 
 
 The question might be raised, whether one can show 
 goodwill without first feeling it as a motive. I must leave 
 the solution of this problem to the psychological analyst 
 with his questionnaires. My own impression is that the 
 two things go together. In most cases the feeling of good- 
 will comes first The practice of consideration by Ameri- 
 can and European storekeepers is due to what Kidd calls 
 the "fund of altruistic feeling'' generated by Christianity, 
 of which I shall speak in a moment On the other hand 
 it is possible for a man to adopt the policy of considera- 
 tion for purely selfish reasons. But in this case the prac- 
 tical consideration of others' interests invariably tends to 
 generate the spirit of goodwill in the man who adopts 
 such a policy. He has put himself in line with a higher 
 
 * Outlook, Aug. 23, 1914. 
 "N. r. Times, Dec. 18, 1919. 
 
THE HIGHER SELFISHNESS 149 
 
 law, a law of the Universe that is written into the very 
 structure of human society. Action in accordance with 
 that law brings a definite moral reaction. The acceptance 
 of brotherhood for practical reasons, releases Divine forces 
 making for brotherhood. 
 
 The value of Jesus as an ethical teacher is that he takes 
 human nature as he finds it. He deals with actual rather 
 than ideal conditions. There has been a somewhat gen- 
 eral impression that his "Kingdom" is a Utopia, requiring 
 perfect men, actuated by purely altruistic motives. I can- 
 not find evidence for this in his teaching. However desir- 
 able the feeling of goodwill and fraternity, it is something 
 that must be caught rather than commanded. Selfishness 
 of the narrow sort ought to be exorcised. But meanwhile 
 it can be held in abeyance, or turned to practical account. 
 Self-assertion and acquisitiveness, when properly disci- 
 plined, are of immense social value. The "love'' empha- 
 sized by Jesus, according to our Greek translation of his 
 teachings, is a word meaning admiration or esteem, rather 
 than the commoner word for emotion. We are not bid- 
 den to feel affection for the patron of our store, for our 
 competitor, or for our enemy, but to esteem him, to do him 
 good, to admit him into the group where we recognize com- 
 mon and mutual interests. This is a rule that any one 
 may apply. A single individual can begin to build around 
 himself a kingdom of goodwill. Christian ethics are on 
 an experimental basis. The real proof of Christianity is 
 the fact that it works. 
 
 One of the fundamental tests of any theory involving 
 human relations is the pragmatic one of its effect on the 
 individual. A view of the Universe which makes men 
 more social and efficient, will tend to prove that such a 
 view conforms to actual working conditions. The prin- 
 ciple of common interest has won slow and as yet only 
 partial recognition. In a ready-made or mechanical Uni- 
 verse, this fact would militate against its altruistic char- 
 acter. Thus Le Dantec scoffs at social habits of mind as 
 
150 CHAOS OR COSMOS? 
 
 "mental deformations," because of their late development, 
 and the fact that thej have not been able to modify very 
 deeply the primitive selfish nature of man.^ But social 
 habits of mind are acquired characters. And the best scien- 
 tific evidence is that acquired characters are not inherited. 
 Apart from civilized training, man is today what he always 
 has been, a savage animal. At the same time the human 
 species is essentially gregarious. In the social history of 
 the race, as we showed at the end of the last chapter, the 
 selfish man is the unsocialized and incomplete man. Just 
 as the child is born selfish and gradually learns to live in 
 a society. It is not a question of acquiring new instincts, 
 but of bringing certain centrifugal instincts into subordina- 
 tion to centripetal ones. The fact brought out in the pres- 
 ent chapter, that man becomes more efficient as he grows 
 more altruistic, shows that he is becoming more com- 
 pletely adjusted to the Universe. What is abnormal on 
 Le Dantec's theory, becomes normal on Jesus' theory. The 
 slow acquirement of social as contrasted with group altru- 
 ism, is exactly what we should expect in a Universe which 
 requires for its completion the help of many generations 
 of men. The character of the Environment to which men 
 are adjusting their lives will show more clearly as the 
 process goes forward. For an analogy we may take the 
 science of electrical engineering. Through our improved 
 machinery for developing and controlling a current, we 
 know vastly more about electricity than could be learned 
 through the rubbing of amber or Franklin's kite. But 
 there is more electrical potential in the physical universe 
 than we are yet able to harness. Our knowledge of social 
 laws and forces is similar. The world is only beginning to 
 realize the possibilities which lie in goodwill. 
 
 In the ethical history of the race, the most notable fact 
 is the influence of the Christian idea of God, itself Oriental 
 in origin, on the civilization of the West. Lecky has thus 
 summarized the effect of Christianity in the Koman Em- 
 
 • Felix le Dantec, L'egoisme seule hose de toute societS, 1911. 
 
THE HIGHER SELFISHNESS 151 
 
 pire: "The high conception that has heen formed of the 
 sanctity of human life, the protection of infancy, the eleva- 
 tion and final emancipation of the slave classes, the sup- 
 pression of barbarous games, the creation of a vast and 
 multifarious organization of charity, and the education of 
 the imagination by the Christian type, constitute together a 
 movement of philanthropy which has never been paral- 
 leled or approached in the Pagan world." "^ 
 
 In the world today the same contrast may be noted be- 
 tween the sympathy for others in Christian lands, and the 
 relative callousness of countries untouched by Christianity. 
 It is not necessary to give in detail the various philan- 
 thropic activities found in our Western civilization. Care 
 for the orphan, the blind, the insane, the poor, at first a 
 matter of private charity alone, has become a common re- 
 sponsibility and a recognized function of the State. Pity 
 for the needy, help for the man who is down, has come to be 
 almost second nature with us. So strongly has considera- 
 tion for human need become embodied in modern charity, 
 that it is almost inconceivable that a stranger fallen among 
 thieves and left stripped and wounded, should be passed by 
 on the other side. Where at the beginning of the Chris- 
 tian era men drew the doctrine of human brotherhood from 
 the character of God, as revealed by Jesus, today we are 
 beginning to infer the character of God from the fact of 
 brotherhood.® 
 
 Another important aspect of the growth of social altru- 
 ism is the movement toward Democracy.^ The emancipa- 
 
 " W. E. H. Lecky, Hist, of Eur. Morals, 1869, II, 107. 
 
 'Jn. E. le Bosquet, The Modern Man's Religion, Harvard Theol. 
 Review, 7, 97, 1914. 
 
 •Suggestive material on this subject will be found in Jas. Bryce, 
 Modem Democracies, 1920; Wm. R. Thayer, Democracy : Discipline: 
 Peace, 1919; Arthur T. Hadley, The Moral Basis of Democracy, 
 1919; John R. Commons, Races and Immigrants, 1907, chap. 
 1, Race a/nd Democracy ; Walter E. Weyl, The New Democracy, 1912; 
 Walter Lippmann, Drift and Mastery, 1914; Herbert Croly, Pro- 
 gressive Democracy, 1914; Graham Wallas, The Great Society, 1914; 
 Harold J. Laski, Democracy at the Crossroads, Yale Review, 9, 788, 
 July, 1920. 
 
153 CHAOS OE COSMOS? 
 
 tion and self-assertion of subject classes has been accom- 
 panied by the increasing readiness of men to trust each 
 other. Thus the democracy of small homogeneous groups, 
 like the English town and county, or the city guild, has 
 been extended to cover the relations of many groups within 
 a larger unit Local self-government grows into the demo- 
 cratic colony or state. Politically, this has meant the ex- 
 tension of the franchise, the growth of the representative 
 principle, and the recognized power of the people, by 
 majority vote, to manage and change their government. 
 Socially, it shows itself in universal education, and the 
 demand for equality of opportunity. The industrial phase, 
 which will be considered in a later section, is the demand 
 for some measure of control by groups of workers over 
 the industry in which they are engaged. Democracy, in 
 any of these aspects, is a movement rather than a fixed 
 state, and hence not easy to define. We may regard it as a 
 point of view: the habit of looking at all social questions 
 from the standpoint of Society as a whole, rather than 
 of some limited but powerful class. It is an ideal of 
 human relationships, which would recognize the inherent 
 capabilities of manhood, and the duty of mutual trust, 
 support and esteem. 
 
XV, 
 
 CHARACTEB AS AN ASSET. 
 
 Jesus' system of Ethics is surprisingly simple. He 
 does not, like other ethical teachers, base moral obliga- 
 tion on tradition or authority, on an innate sense of right 
 or wrong, or on some abstract principle. His treatment 
 is essentially biological, a statement of man's necessary 
 relation to his Environment. Christ assumes that we are 
 living in the closest possible relations with a righteous 
 and loving God, and that we are cooperating with Him and 
 widi our fellow men in an unfolding social order. From 
 human life as we know it, he draws certain general laws 
 of conduct that will fit this assumption. 
 
 To state this position a little more fully, the individual 
 man is a biological unit. He is not self-existent or seK- 
 sufficient. He cannot live in isolation. It is necessary for 
 him to adjust his life to other human units, and to the 
 Universe itself. If the Universe reflects a moral and 
 altruistic God, the same qualities are required both for a 
 complete development of the individual man, and for nor- 
 mal social relations. Man is not bidden to be righteous 
 and considerate because God has so commanded, but be- 
 cause a full adjustment of man to his Environment cannot 
 be secured on any other basis. The laws of Ethics are like 
 the laws of Mechanics, or the laws of Agriculture, or the 
 laws of Health or Providence. They represent the neces- 
 sary cooperation between Man and God in a personal and 
 social order. 
 
 Our interest in this book is not in expounding Jesus' 
 ethical principles, as outlined in our first chapter, but in 
 
 153 
 
154 CHAOS OE COSMOS? 
 
 testing the assumption whicli underlies them. If the 
 relation of man to the Universe is that of a distinct and 
 cooperating unit, as our earlier treatment seems to show,^ 
 and Jesus has given a correct interpretation of the charac- 
 ter of God, we should expect moral cooperation with such 
 a God to release helpful moral forces. In the last chapter 
 we gained a certain confirmation of one part of Jesua' 
 statement. Consideration and goodwill have a practical 
 value, not only within the local group, but in society at 
 large. They function in the way that his theory calls for. 
 Let us now apply the same test to moral integrity. Do 
 honesty and justice, responsibility and self-control, prove 
 of practical value, imder the conditions which the Universe 
 lays down? 
 
 The value to the individual and to society of that dis- 
 ciplining of primitive instincts which we describe as self- 
 control, is so evident that we need spend little time upon 
 it. We have already noted the growing recognition of in- 
 temperance as an economic and social handicap, and the 
 steps taken to check this evil. The social value of sexual 
 purity was suggested in our chapter on the Making of 
 Man.^ Anger and other violent emotions are detrimental 
 not only to health but to general efficiency, even when they 
 fall short of injury to another's property or person. In 
 our study of industrial and national relations, we shall 
 have occasion to note the danger, from the point of view 
 of Society, of unchecked greed and domination, which are 
 merely the rank growth of the natural instincts of pos- 
 session and self-assertion. 
 
 It has become almost a commonplace in our Western Civ- 
 ilization to demand justice of all persons, in all relations. 
 The sense of injustice is one of the most potent factors in 
 creating friction between employer and employee, and in 
 depreciating the value of the human factor in production. 
 In other words, just dealing, in fact and in appearance, 
 
 * Chapters 7 to 12. 
 ' See ante, p. 68. 
 
CHARACTER AS AN ASSET 155 
 
 is an asset in the account of any industrial plant. The 
 importance which Society attaches to just dealings between 
 man and man, lies at the basis of our system of Law. In 
 the words of the Magna Carta : "To no one will we sell, to 
 no one will we refuse or delay, right or justice.'' 
 
 Failure to reach this high ideal must be attributed not 
 to sentiment but to the inadequacy of legal and court ma- 
 chinery. The impossibility of knowing the law in all its 
 changing intricacy, the delays and expense of legal con- 
 tests, have made it diiHcult for the poor man to secure 
 justice. Here again has been a fruitful source of social 
 friction. A case is on record where a judgment for ten 
 dollars in favor of a wage-earner was appealed and post- 
 poned for a year and nine months, and required the plain- 
 tiff to spend eleven days in court, in addition to his at- 
 torney's fees. This intolerable situation is being remedied 
 by the establishment of Small Claims Courts, where law- 
 yers are not permitted. In Cleveland, Ohio, the total 
 costs to the plaintiff are 52 cents; in 1915, 5106 cases 
 were tried, and judgments given to an amount of 
 $32,872.14. In a number of American cities, public de- 
 fenders are appointed to represent the accused, thus elimi- 
 nating the jail lawyer, and reducing the length of the 
 trials, in Los Angeles from a total of 239 days to 58 
 days.^ 
 
 I pass to the consideration of a virtue whose survival 
 value may be more open to question, that is Honesty. Any 
 one familiar with business knows that there is a great 
 deal of dishonesty in factory products which cannot be 
 accounted for by faulty inspection. Such a policy is 
 clearly short-sighted. An employee who is encouraged to 
 cheat the firm's customers, is likely to take a similar 
 advantage of the firm. The attempt to pass off shoddy, 
 short weight or careless workmanship, will in the long run 
 react on the seller. An example on a large scale is the 
 
 ' Reginald H. Smith, Justice and the PooTy 1919. See also Everett 
 V. Abbot, Ju»tice and the Modem Law, 1913. 
 
156 CHAOS OR COSMOS? 
 
 boycott against goods from a certain country instituted 
 by Australia in 1919, because of the commercial untrust- 
 wortbiness of the merchants from that country with whom 
 they were dealing. The working of this principle in retail 
 trade was considered in our last chapter. Permanent suc- 
 cess requires the building up of a reputation for quality 
 and fair dealing. Pride in the firm's product is an im- 
 portant element in quality production. We have reached 
 a point in Industry where honor in trade is a definite asset, 
 and dishonesty a serious handicap. The man who makes 
 money dishonestly is really trading on the general com- 
 munity standard of honesty and service. Even the adver- 
 tiser has come to realize that there is a commercial value 
 in telling the truth. 
 
 An interesting recognition of this principle is found in 
 the Rotary Club movement, an organization of representa- 
 tive business and professional men in various cities. Its 
 Code of Ethics is as follows : 
 
 First — To consider my vocation worthy, and as affording 
 me distinct opportunity to serve society. 
 
 Second — To improve myself, increase my efficiency and 
 enlarge my service, and by so doing attest my faith in the 
 fundamental principle of Eotary that he profits most who 
 serves best. 
 
 Third — To realize that I am a business man and ambitious 
 to succeed; but that I am first an ethical man, and wish 
 no success that is not founded on the highest justice and 
 morality. 
 
 Fourth — To hol^ that the exchange of my goods, my serv- 
 ice and my ideas for profit is legitimate and ethical, pro- 
 vided that all parties in the exchange are benefited thereby. 
 
 Fifth — To use my best endeavors to elevate the standards 
 of the vocation in which I am engaged, and so to conduct 
 my affairs that others in my vocation may find it wise, 
 profitable and conducive to happiness to emulate my example. 
 
 Sixth — To conduct my business in such a manner that I 
 may give a perfect service equal to or even better than my 
 
CHAKACTEE AS AN ASSET 157 ^ 
 
 competitor, and when in doubt to give added service beyond 
 the strict measure of debt or obligation. 
 
 Seventh — 'To understand that one of the greatest assets 
 of a professional or of a business man is his friends, and 
 that any advantage gained by reason of friendship is emi- 
 nently ethical and proper. 
 
 Eighth — To hold that true friends demand nothing of 
 one another, and that any abuse of the confidences of friend- 
 ship for profit is foreign to the spirit of Kotary, and in viola- 
 tion of its Code of Ethics. 
 
 Ninth — To consider no personal success legitimate or eth- 
 ical which is secured by taking unfair advantage of certain 
 opportunities in the social order that are absolutely denied 
 others, nor will I take advantage of opportunities to achieve 
 material success that others will not take because of the ques- 
 tionable morality involved. 
 
 Tenth — To be not more obligated to a Brother Eotarian 
 than I am to every other man in human society ; because the 
 genius of Rotary is not in its competition but in its co- 
 operation; for provincialism can never have a place in an 
 institution like Rotary, and Rotarians assert that human 
 rights are not confined to Rotary Clubs but are as deep and 
 as broad as the race itself; and for these high purposes does 
 Rotary exist to educate all men and all institutions. 
 
 Eleventh — Finally, believing in the universality of the 
 Golden Rule — All things whatsoever ye would that men 
 should do unto you, do ye even so unto them — ^we contend 
 that Society best holds together when equal opportunity is 
 accorded all men in the natural resources of this planet. 
 
 Honesty lies at the foundation of the modem system of 
 Credit. How general today is the assumption of integrity 
 and fair dealing will be realized if we stop to consider the 
 amount of business done on trust, from the grocer who 
 allows a wage-earner to run an account until pay day, to 
 the bank which grants its depositor a loan on only his per- 
 sonal security, or gives hard cash in exchange for commer- 
 cial paper, perhaps from the other side of the world. The 
 people of the United States, in 1913, exchanged goods 
 
158 CHAOS OK COSMOS? 
 
 to the amount of $173,000,000,000 by the use of 
 checks.* 
 
 In the granting of private credit, the primary considera- 
 tion is the character of the applicant. "A man without 
 wealth or apparent ability to pay may receive credit if it is 
 known that he is honest, that he treats his financial obliga- 
 tions very seriously, that he would be willing to do almost 
 anything than to fail to pay his debts. Such a person 
 may enjoy excellent credit whereas one of considerable 
 wealth but who is slow in making payments, may not have 
 good credit." ^ 
 
 This principle finds an interesting application in the 
 Morris Plan banks, originated by Arthur J. Morris, of 
 N"orfolk, Virginia, and now found in over a hundred 
 cities. Loans are made on notes endorsed by two other 
 persons, the three parties being accepted simply on the 
 basis of approved honesty and earning capacity. Inter- 
 est is charged at 6 per cent, the first year's interest being 
 deducted from the loan, and the principal repaid in weekly 
 installments. For a small additional sum the loan is in- 
 sured against the death of the borrower. There are no 
 depositors, the necessary capital being secured largely 
 through the sale of loan certificates. The losses in ten 
 years' time have been less than one-tenth of one per cent. 
 As a substitute for the loan-shark the plan has proved of 
 inestimable value. 
 
 The procedure in mercantile credit is very similar to 
 that in private banking. It pays the business man, just 
 as it pays the private citizen, to be honest. Nothing is 
 guarded more jealously by the progressive merchant than 
 his reputation for honesty and promptness in meeting his 
 obligations, for on this depends his credit rating and the 
 terms he is able to secure. As the losses sustained on credit 
 systems must be charged up to the honest borrowers, a 
 
 *J. L. Laughlin, Credit of the Naticyns, 1918, 11. 
 " James E. Hagerty, Mercantile Credit, 1913, 79. See also Wm. A. 
 Prendergast, Credit and its Uses, 1906. 
 
CHARACTER AS AN ASSET 159 
 
 raising of the general level of honesty is to the advantage 
 of society at large. 
 
 The credit man takes account of the character of the 
 community. If there have been many dishonest failures 
 in the town, it is evidence of a low moral tone. Public 
 opinion has failed to ostracize the men who have easy 
 standards of business honor. Those living in such a com- 
 munity are either refused credit or charged a higher rate. 
 In other words, it pays to live in an honest town.* 
 
 American farmers are beginning to follow the lead of 
 Europe and organize cooperative societies, where indi- 
 vidual credit is pooled for the benefit of the membership, 
 in order that producers without capital may secure loans 
 at a reasonable rate. Since the membership as a whole is 
 liable for the amount of the loans, the honesty of each 
 member becomes a social responsibility.'^ 
 
 Joseph W. Koe, in an address before the Society of 
 Industrial Engineers, Oct. 29, 1919, gave the results of 
 a circular letter sent to a number of leaders in the pro- 
 fession, asking them to state what they considered the 
 most important factors in determining success or failure 
 in engineering. Answers were received from 1500 engi- 
 neers. Their estimate of the relative importance of quali- 
 ties was tabulated as follows : 
 
 Character 41.0% 
 
 Judgment , 17.5 
 
 Efficiency 14.5 
 
 Understanding of men 14.0 87% 
 
 Knowledge of fundamentals 7.0 
 
 Technique 6.0 13% 
 
 100% 
 
 A second letter, to members of the four Engineering 
 Societies, brought similar results. Out of 7000 replies, 
 
 'Hagerty, op, cit., 99. 
 
 ' Jas. B. Morman, Prints of Rural Credit, 1915; Henry B. WolflF, 
 People's Banks, 3rd ed., 1910. 
 
160 CHAOS OR COSMOS? 
 
 94.5% put the character group first, and knowledge and 
 technique last. The rating of qualities could be calculated 
 thus: 
 
 Character 24.0% 
 
 Judgment 19.5 
 
 Efficiency 16.5 
 
 Understanding of men 15.0 75% 
 
 Knowledge of fundamentals 15.0 
 
 Technique 10.0 25% 
 
 100% 
 
 If purity, justice, honesty, and all the other elements 
 which make up strength of character, are so important 
 from a social standpoint, our interest shifts to the problem 
 of their attainment. Character does not grow on trees. 
 It does not spring up spontaneously and universally, as 
 the natural evolution of animal instincts, or as the fruit- 
 age in human life of a Moral Absolute. It is not inherited. 
 It is not taught, in the sense that reading and arithmetic 
 are taught. Character is an art, which must be learned 
 by the individual through constant practice. It is a spirit 
 that is caught from example. It is an achievement, which 
 grows out of a constant struggle to control our emotions, 
 and direct them into useful channels. It is a sort of social 
 equilibrium which the child must learn, just as he must 
 learn to balance himself in walking. 
 
 In the accomplishment of this self -discipline, the three 
 chief means have been Custom, Education and Keligion. 
 Community standards, as voiced by public opinion, and 
 registered in law, have been a powerful agency for en- 
 forcing moral conformity. This influence has been both 
 passive and active. The moral force of association is very 
 strong. A man naturally tends to do what the group is 
 doing, to hate what the group hates, and admire what the 
 group admires. To feel himself different from his fellows 
 is a heavier cross than the ordinary person can bear. He 
 
CHARACTER AS AN ASSET 161 
 
 makes every effort to earn the reward of praise, rather than 
 incur the penalty of blame. But Society goes very much 
 farther than this. No tribe could exist if, within its 
 membership, murder, robbery and treachery were common. 
 The self -discipline of the individual is a part of the self- 
 preservation of society. To enforce loyalty, respect for life 
 and property, and the other virtues which are necessary 
 for its preservation and strength, the group uses the 
 weapons of fines, physical punishment, death or banish- 
 ment. The immoral man becomes an outlaw, cut off from 
 the assistance and protection of the tribe. The military 
 state and the industrial nation develop their own codes of 
 ethics, and enforce them by such means as they deem 
 effective. 
 
 I use Education in the broad sense, as including the 
 philosophy and literature that help to shape ethical stand- 
 ards, and the influences noted in an earlier chapter which 
 go into the training of children and youth. As civiliza- 
 tion advances the school is used to supplement the educa- 
 tional work of the home. Mere knowledge is not sufficient 
 for ethical training. The great advance in general intel- 
 ligence registered in the past hundred years, has not in 
 itself made the race more moral. Some instruction in 
 ethical principles is possible. Examples of noble character 
 may be held before the children as ideals. But the chief 
 contribution of the school has been along the line of dis- 
 cipline. Educators attach increasing importance to the 
 foundations of character building which may be laid 
 through required work, both mental and manual, habits 
 of regularity, promptness, accuracy and obedience, the 
 spirit of truthfulness and honor, the practice of team-work 
 and self-government, and the expression of patriotism. 
 
 But the strongest influence in character building has 
 undoubtedly been Eeligion. From the dawn of history, 
 the function of religion has been to throw higher sanc- 
 tions around conmiunity standards, and awaken an emo- 
 tional response. Fear of taboo, the need of ensuring the 
 
162 CHAOS OE COSMOS? 
 
 cooperation of the tribal god, gave to the regulations of 
 custom a ten-fold strength. The institutional side of re- 
 ligion is essentially conservative. But the great religious 
 teachers have been unconscious revolutionists, helping to 
 mold the ideas that underlie customs and institutions. 
 Jesus, like the Hebrew prophets, represents the Universe 
 as a moral order, whose Thou Shalt and Thou Shalt N'ot 
 are neglected at our peril. And the peril and benefit are 
 immediate and practical, rather than the fear of future 
 punishment or the hope of paradise. The God of whom 
 Jesus speaks is present, not distant; just, not capricious; 
 an altruistic rather than an autocratic Being, ready to co- 
 operate with man in all his moral struggle. In other 
 words, man's self -discipline is not against E'ature, but with 
 N'ature. Man is adjusting himself to a moral Environ- 
 ment, a righteous and loving God, whose laws, vaguely 
 recognized in tribal and national standards, the Master 
 restates in simple but definite terms. 
 
 It would be hard to overestimate the importance of 
 Jesus' contribution to ethical theory and to character build- 
 ing. It is a fact of observation that Christ's doctrine of 
 God has tended to make men more moral. The idea of 
 Divine love and cooperation has brought out latent quali- 
 ties, and made self-conquest possible. JSTatural human 
 emotions, which if left to run wild are dangerous to society, 
 have not been suppressed, but controlled and disciplined.* 
 The individual has learned to become temperate, poised, 
 responsible, efficient, considerate, social. 
 
 Many examples might be given of this ethical effect of 
 Christianity. Begbie, in his study of the work of the Sal- 
 vation Army in West London, cites case after case where 
 a degenerate outcast has become a normal and hard-working 
 member of society.^ Less sensational, but equally valuable, 
 is the change wrought in the period of adolescence, either 
 
 ' Cf. Edwin B. Holt, The Freudian Wish <md its Place in Ethics, 
 1916. 
 •Harold B^bie, Twice-Born Men, 1909. 
 
CHARACTER AS AN ASSET 163 
 
 through conversion or the quieter process of religious edu- 
 cation.^^ 
 
 I give a single case from the remarkable altruistic 
 movement of Foreign Missions, which aims to raise back- 
 ward peoples to the level of the highest Christian civiliza- 
 tion. The one I have chosen is Mary Slessor's account of 
 seven years' work with the Okoyong of Nigeria, whose 
 fierceness and cruelty had made them the terror of the 
 Calabar region. "We do not attempt to give in numbers 
 those who are nominally Christian. ... Of results as 
 affecting the condition and conduct of our people generally, 
 it is more easy to speak. Raiding, plundering, the stealing 
 of slaves, have almost entirely ceased. Any person from 
 any place can come now for trade or pleasure, and stay 
 wherever they choose, their persons and property being 
 as safe as at Calabar. For fully a year we have heard of 
 nothing like violence from even the most backward of our 
 people. ... As their intercourse with the white men in- 
 creased through trade or otherwise, they found that to sub- 
 mit to his authority did not mean loss of liberty but the 
 opposite, and gradually their objections cleared away, till 
 in 1894 they formally met and bound themselves to some 
 extent by treaty with the Consul. Again, later, our con- 
 siderate, patient, tactful Governor, Sir Claude Macdonald, 
 met them, and at that interview the last objection was 
 removed, and they promised unconditional surrender of 
 the old laws which were based on unrighteousness and 
 cruelty, and cordial acceptance of the just and, as they 
 called it, 'clean' code which he proffered them in return. 
 Since then he has proclaimed them a free people in every 
 respect among neighboring tribes, and so, placing them 
 on their honour, so to speak, has made out of the roughest 
 material a lot of self-respecting men who conduct their 
 
 *"See Edwin D. Starbuck, Psychology of Religion, 1899; Geo. A. 
 Coe, The Spiritital Life, 1900; Edward S. Ames, Psychol, of Relig. 
 Experience, 1910; Jas. B. Pratt, Psychol, of Relig. Belief, 1908; The 
 Relig, Consciousness, 1920. 
 
164 CHAOS OR COSMOS? 
 
 business in a fashion from wliicli Europeans might take 
 lessons. . . . E'o tribe was formerly so feared because of 
 their utter disregard of human life, but human life is now 
 safe. No chief ever died without the sacrifice of many 
 lives, but this custom has now ceased. . . . With regard to 
 infanticide and twin-murder we can speak hopefully . . . 
 there has dawned on them the fact that life is worth saving, 
 even at the risk of one's own. . . . Drinking, especially 
 among the women, is on the decrease. The old bands of 
 roving women who came to us at first are now only a 
 memory and a name. The women still drink, but it is at 
 home where the husband can keep them in check. . . . 
 They are eager for education. Instead of the apathy and 
 incredulous laugh which the mention of the Word for- 
 merly brought, the cry from all parts is for teachers ; and 
 there is a disposition to be friendly to any one who will 
 help them toward a higher plane of living." ^ ^ 
 
 These results which have come in the lives of men, when- 
 ever they have acted on Jesus' assumption of a righteous 
 and cooperating God, tend to confirm this theory of the 
 moral order of the Universe. That the assumption is not 
 merely subjective, is shown by the evidence we have gath- 
 ered as to the place of character in human society, by the 
 fact that, contrary to Huxley, it has a survival value. 
 Freud's studies in mental pathology have shown the ab- 
 normal states resulting both from the suppression of im- 
 pulse, and from the lack of proper direction and control. 
 To be completely normal is to be virtuous and wise. 
 Taking the Universe as a whole, in its relation to Man, 
 righteousness would appear to have cosmic sanction. 
 
 From Jesus' biological standpoint, the deterioration of 
 character under any given conditions, for example in ex- 
 treme luxury or poverty, in despotism or license, may be 
 taken as some indication of the moral or immoral nature 
 of the conditions, that is of the degree of their conformity 
 to the laws of the Universe. Such deterioration is a warn- 
 
 **W. P. Livingstone, Mary Slessor of Calabar, 7th ed., 1916. 
 
CHARACTER AS AN ASSET 165 
 
 ing that the conditions should be corrected by the indi- 
 vidual or by Society. 
 
 It seems necessary to take up an objection to the moral 
 character of the Universe which some readers have doubt- 
 less raised at various points in our book. I refer to the 
 presence of poisons, fire, storms, harmful bacteria, etc. 
 Though increasingly under man's control, these agencies 
 have not been under such control until the last hundred 
 years, and still do immense and in many cases unescap- 
 able damage. I take up the question with reluctance. Not 
 because it is difficult to answer, but because it is hard for 
 me to treat it seriously. One who holds to Jesus' idea of 
 an incomplete and cooperative creation, is accustomed to 
 take the world as he finds it, and work with God to make 
 it safer and more complete. He is inclined to be impatient 
 with any other attitude. Why should we call fire moral 
 when it cooks our food, and immoral when it bums us? 
 Is a volcano righteous when it replenishes our supply of 
 carbon dioxide, and unrighteous when it buries man under 
 its lava flow ? Is an albumin good when it takes the form 
 of white of egg, and evil when it appears as serpent's 
 venom? Is it ethical for certain bacteria to serve as a 
 useful food supply for other organisms, and unethical for 
 the same bacteria to generate toxins in human blood ? The 
 terms of Ethics are social terms, and have no meaning 
 outside of the field of social relations. Moral laws are 
 the laws of God's behavior in the social order, just as 
 physical laws are the laws of His behavior in the physical 
 order. In either case our business is not to criticize them 
 but to adjust ourselves to them. 
 
 To refer to another phase of the question, Mr. H. G. 
 Wells, in one of his books, makes quite a to-do over a cat 
 killing an innocent bird. He thinks that such cruelty re- 
 flects on the moral character of the Universe. It all de- 
 pends on one's point of view. Of course it is possible to 
 use the human analogy, and sentimentalize over the way 
 this scene would appear if the aggressor were a thought- 
 
166 CHAOS OR COSMOS? 
 
 less or cruel boy. Even in this case the killing of the bird 
 is immoral, not because it is bad for the bird, but because 
 it is bad for the boy. But if Mr. Wells knew cats as well 
 as some of the rest of us do, he would realize that the cat 
 killed the bird in order to eat it, if its meal had not been 
 interrupted. It was trying to replenish its market basket, 
 just as Mr. Wells, by proxy, kills cattle, sheep and poultry. 
 To the biologist, the incident represents the relation be- 
 tween two life environments, that of the felines and that of 
 the birds. To the student of Psychology, it suggests the 
 play of primitive instincts or emotions: on the one hand 
 hunger or predaciousness, on the other fear and self- 
 preservation. The chemist sees in it the physiological 
 changes involved in such nervous processes, or in the dead 
 bird as contrasted with the living bird. What the physicist 
 sees is two series of energy transformations, and the move- 
 ment of groups of molecules under the stress of natural 
 forces. To the theologian who is at the same time a 
 scientist, the struggle of the cat and the bird is part of 
 God's varied activity in Nature. We may take literally, 
 and with the fuller content Science has given it, the state- 
 ment of Jesus that "not a sparrow falls to the ground with- 
 out your Father." The dependableness of natural law, 
 the Divine character of the physical world of which man's 
 body is itself a part, is the background of our picture of 
 the Universe, for which the foreground is the personal and 
 moral relations between man and man, and man and 
 God. 
 
XVI. 
 
 THE COOPEEATIOIT OP PRAYEE. 
 
 If consideration and moral strength are business and 
 social assets, if the evolving Democracy depends for its 
 success on mutual confidence and esteem, the religious 
 attitude which is able to generate these forces has a cosmic 
 value. It must be counted as witnessing to some of the 
 most essential features of the Universe. Jesus* view of 
 the character of God is confirmed. The social value of 
 Christianity finds its natural explanation in the fact that 
 God and the religious man are working in harmony for a 
 common end. Man succeeds in a fuller measure than be- 
 fore, because his living and effort are with the stream of 
 the world rather than against the stream. 
 
 The apparent utilitarianism of Jesus' ethics is explained 
 by his emphasis on the underlying moral order of the 
 Universe. "Give and it will be given unto you," "Do as 
 you would be done by," are expressions of a general law. 
 It pays to follow it, just as it pays to follow other scien- 
 tific laws. But Jesus expects us to follow justice and good- 
 will, not because it will pay, but because we have learned 
 the character of God our Father, and are adjusting our- 
 selves, whether consciously or unconsciously, to a world 
 of justice and goodwill. 
 
 Prayer, on the Christian theory, is the recognition of 
 the necessary cooperation between God and His earthly 
 sons in the making of a social order. In a completed 
 world, there would be no place for prayer. If creation 
 had been worked out to the last detail, if no control or re- 
 arrangement of forces were possible, if every event of the 
 
 167 
 
168 CHAOS OR COSMOS? 
 
 Universe were determined by an unbroken chain of 
 physical causes reaching back to the beginning of Time, 
 the only attitude open to the religious man would be that 
 of submission. He might laud the perfection of the Uni- 
 verse, and kiss the rod which smote him. But to the events 
 and conditions of the world he must bow as to the decrees 
 of an inexorable Fate. He could not expect to alter them 
 by gift or merit of his own, or by any proffered petition. 
 The Universe in which we live is not of that character. 
 We have gathered cumulative evidence for man's power to 
 control natural forces, to create life and shape its condi- 
 tions. Each day reveals our share in an unfinished but 
 growing creation. We not only bridge rivers and dig 
 canals, sow seeds and develop improved forms of plant 
 and animal life. We also prevent sickness, we train chil- 
 dren, we help our fellows in need and in temptation. 
 We change the conditions of the social environment. 
 Christianity merely assumes that what man does, in his 
 daily life, God can do and will do. The same control of 
 natural forces for higher ends which is possible for man, 
 is possible for God, and natural to God. 
 
 Prayer cannot involve any arbitrary interference with 
 the laws of ^Nature. Such an assumption has been widely 
 current, as a corollary of the dualism of God and His 
 world which Jesus sought to overthrow, but which has con- 
 tinued to attach itself to our Western interpretation of his 
 teaching. By the "vain repetition" of magical formulas, 
 by vows and gifts, by the exercise of implicit faith, God 
 might be compelled to leave His preoccupied isolation and 
 act in the affairs of the world, on man's behalf. Jesus 
 attacked this idea of prayer on theological grounds. We 
 are not dealing with a God who may be charmed or bribed 
 or cajoled. Nor can such sharp distinction be made be- 
 tween God and the world. God operates in and through 
 the forces of the Universe, rather than upon them, as upon 
 a separate mechanism which requires His constant inter- 
 ference or adjustment. The Master refused to attempt a 
 
THE COOPERATION OF PRAYER 169 
 
 spectacular feat which would violate the laws of Nature.^ 
 Science, from another angle, has made the conception of 
 dualism and interference untenable. Man finds himself 
 in a Universe of order and law. Control of natural forces 
 is possible to him, only as he learns to know them and work 
 with them. Magic, of whatever sort, can have absolutely 
 no effect on the Universe. 
 
 God, as Jesus pictures Him, is near us, close to us, all 
 the time and everywhere, knowing our thoughts almost 
 before we think them, knowing what things we have need 
 of before we ask, cooperating in every human function and 
 activity, and supremely interested in each effort that we 
 make toward the establishment of His Kingdom of char- 
 acter and goodwill. In the presence of such a God, 
 prayer comes to be very direct and personal. We not only 
 pray, as a natural and necessary part of our daily life, 
 a recognition of our constant dependence on the Universe. 
 We pray in an entirely new way. Our attitude is that of 
 a son toward his father, that of a junior partner toward 
 the great Head of the Firm. 
 
 Prayer, with Jesus, is not to give God information. It 
 is not forcing man's desires on God. It is the cooperation 
 of two harmonious wills. It is the adjustment of our plans 
 and desires to the plans of the Universe. When men rise 
 up to help God create what still is uncreated, to complete 
 what needs completing, to remedy that which requires 
 remedy, whether in their own lives or in the world around 
 them, their conscious communion and petition is the ex- 
 pression of a faith, an attitude, for which God has been 
 waiting. Man and God are acting in concert. The work 
 of ethical and social development can go forward. 
 Strength and beauty of character, the practice of altruism, 
 international responsibility become daily realities, and 
 help to mold human institutions. The Kingdom of God 
 has begun on earth. 
 
 A discussion of the details of prayer, and its possible 
 
 »Matt. 4:6-7. 
 
170 CHAOS OE COSMOS? 
 
 answers, does not fall within tlie scope of this book. We 
 are concerned here rather with the value of the Christian 
 attitude, fortunately far more widespread than the ac- 
 ceptance of Jesus' specific doctrine of prayer, in ethical 
 and social movements. The Christian theory finds ample 
 scope in analogies such as man's power of creation, the 
 personal influence of one individual on another, and the 
 practice of telepathy, as yet little understood. The answer 
 to prayer, in any given case, must remain a matter of per- 
 sonal experience rather than of scientific demonstration. 
 In practice the Christian assumes that his prayer will be 
 answered, if it is in harmony with the character and 
 methods of God. And this assumption justifies itself in 
 his experience. An answer to prayer is a step toward the 
 completion of the world. It is a response to man's co- 
 operation in the Universe. On no other terms is it likely to 
 occur. 
 
 On the Christian theory, prayer must consist to a large 
 extent, not of petition but of consultation — ^bringing our 
 work, our interests, our problems before the Father, and 
 waiting for His answers. Waiting for the revelation of 
 His plans, consulting our Architect for the building we 
 must do, conferring with the Head of the Firm. Bring- 
 ing before Him not merely our own character and our own 
 tasks, but the world, the church, the community, the men 
 and women in whom we take a special interest, the great 
 causes we have at heart. Only then are we in a position 
 to ask God for the equipment we need for our tasks, His 
 help in the battle for a better world, His definite blessing 
 on those for whom we pray. 
 
 Our effort must match our attitude. The petition must 
 represent what Fosdick calls our dominant desire. "The 
 great servants of the Kingdom were men of powerful 
 prayer because they were men of dominant desires for 
 whose fulfillment they were willing to sacrifice any- 
 thing." 2 It would be a travesty on prayer to ask God 
 * Harry E. Fosdick, Meaning of Prayer, 1915, 150. 
 
THE C05PEEATI0N- OF PRAYER 171 
 
 for peace of mind, when we are worrying ourselves into a 
 nervous collapse. To pray for daily bread, and not go 
 out to hunt for a job. To pray for forgiveness, when we 
 cherish a grudge against our neighbor. To pray for a 
 cause in which we are making no adequate investment. To 
 pray for the triumph of Democracy, when we fail to show 
 human consideration to the foreign laborer or the hired 
 girl. Prayer is cooperation. Until we do our share in 
 the social order, we are not cooperating; we are not pray- 
 ing, in the Christian sense. 
 
 One other condition should be fulfilled. The individual 
 must leave his isolation and take his proper place in the 
 social order. He must recognize the mutual rights and 
 duties of everyday intercourse. He must feel social obli- 
 gation. He must carry some of the burden of human 
 sin and suffering, and the resolve for aid and improve- 
 ment. A purely selfish prayer would be a contradiction in 
 terms. 
 
 It is evident that this attitude of affection and con- 
 fidence, the sense of personal and friendly partnership 
 with a social God, is a force of immense creative value. 
 To act in harmony with natural forces is essential, in all 
 human effort. But to realize that we are acting in har- 
 mony with those forces, to see in them the hand of an 
 active and kindred and sympathetic Power, to feel our- 
 selves part of a Divine movement toward a great end — 
 raises man's cooperation with the Universe to a new 
 level. 
 
 Those who receive are those who ask; he that seeketh 
 findeth. Opportunity beckons to those who are shrewd 
 enough to cooperate with the Universe, according to the 
 laws discovered by Jesus. A genuine prayer to God each 
 morning for daily bread, begets in the workman an assur- 
 ance, a faithfulness, an enterprise, which are not possible 
 to one who takes his food for granted or regards labor as a 
 necessary evil. To pray for guidance in the day's study 
 or in pressing personal problems, helps to assure the atti- 
 
172 CHAOS OR COSMOS? 
 
 tude of calmness and concentration which are essential to 
 the best intellectual work and the clearest decisions. To 
 ask forgiveness for one's sins and failures, and help in 
 overcoming unworthy traits and throttling habits, gives 
 the sense of forgiveness, the freedom of a fresh start. 
 Prayer in temptation brings victory over the temptation. 
 Prayer for health, when joined, as true prayer must nec- 
 essarily be, with a genuine endeavor after normal living, 
 tends to release the forces that makes for health. In all 
 these cases the effect of prayer is more than reflex. The 
 Universe makes a definite and tangible response, similar to 
 the response which God makes to man's physical or men- 
 tal effort. Prayer is simply effort raised to the personal 
 and consciously cooperative plane. 
 
 The cooperative character of Prayer is seen even more 
 clearly when we pass to petitions which concern persons 
 or objects outside of ourselves. Here again prayer is an 
 element in its own fulfillment, though the fulfillment will 
 almost always transcend the original impulse or effort. 
 Man and the Universe are united in a definite altruistic 
 interest. Any prayer for others involves the thought 
 of others, and the idea that their welfare, whether physi- 
 cal or moral, is of common concern to the worshipper 
 and to God. Intercession opens the way to personal as- 
 sistance. Prayer for others' health helps to create around 
 them the atmosphere of health and confidence, without 
 which medical means are seriously handicapped. To 
 pray for one's enemy or one's competitor, is to exorcise 
 the hatred and suspicion which form such serious impedi- 
 ments in the social order. Prayer is the strongest con- 
 ceivable agent for social solidarity. In such a medium, 
 isolation and cynical indifference cannot live. To bring 
 before God the men of another race or class or nation, 
 means the end of provincialism and caste and selfish 
 nationalism. Under such circumstances, the exploitation 
 of others would be impossible. To pray for one's city or 
 country, helps to make one a loyal and dependable citizen. 
 
THE COOPERATION OF PRAYER 173 
 
 When men unite in praying for a definite trinmpli of jus- 
 tice or for some movement for the betterment of human- 
 ity, it means the vitalizing of the common cause and the 
 beginning of its realization. Human indifference or un- 
 willingness has given place to active cooperation with a 
 just and altruistic God. Such prayers do not interfere 
 with the course of Nature. They release forces in the 
 Universe which are as truly "natural" as are gravitation 
 or chemical attraction. 
 
 We may now take up again the question which we laid 
 on the table at the beginning of our fourteenth chapter: 
 the Christian man versus the selfish and evil man, as each 
 strives for a similar practical objective. It is clear that 
 the Christian has an immense initial advantage, if he 
 will only use it. He knows God. He is acquainted with 
 God's general plan and purpose. He understands the 
 moral currents flowing through the Universe. He has 
 learned how to put himself in touch with these currents 
 through the attitude of prayer. He has the strength 
 which goes with character. His habits of consideration 
 give him a definite advantage in dealing with others. His 
 religion has brought an attitude of trust and confidence 
 which are indispensable to the best thinking and plan- 
 ning. Once let the Christian realize that effort and 
 study, attention and skill, carefulness and good manage- 
 ment, are acts of communion, shared by God and expected 
 to be acceptable service, and he will begin to pass the god- 
 less and evil man. Every human activity is enriched 
 and strengthened and made more sure of success, when it 
 is in conscious harmony with the Universe. Of this the 
 Puritans and Quakers bear eloquent witness. 
 
PAET III. 
 
 THE MOKALITY OF THE UNIVEKSE. 
 
 Section 2. Indufitrial Relations. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 IlS-DUSTRIAIi WAB. 
 
 The view of the character of the Universe which we 
 have gained from our study of man as an individual 
 member of Society, must be tested further by a considera- 
 tion of the Industrial Group. Back of our social life, 
 in every phase, is the God to whose arrangements and ac- 
 tivities we adjust our lives. Without Him we could not 
 lift a shovel or solve an engineering problem or plan a 
 business. The kind of Universe with which men are co- 
 operating, should appear from the story of Industry's 
 failures and successes. 
 
 In the next three chapters, and in the following section 
 on national relations, it will be necessary to make our 
 treatment more detached and impersonal. While we were 
 discussing the individual man and the Universe, the rela- 
 tion between them was so obvious that in bringing it to 
 the reader's attention the author felt free to disclose his 
 personal interest in the matters under review, and even to 
 drive home a lesson on occasion. From now on, until a 
 certain abandon is allowed by the closing chapter, senti- 
 ment and exhortation are barred. We are entering fields 
 of divided opinion and bitter controversy. Any personal 
 bias, any assumption even of the functions of judge or ar- 
 
 176 
 
176 CHAOS OK COSMOS? 
 
 bitrator, would defeat our purpose. We go in the spirit of 
 social scientists. We seek to know the facts as to the 
 behavior of human groups and its results, for the bearing 
 which this may have on the character of the Universe. 
 The colorless method of scientific analysis has its draw- 
 backs. But it penetrates to a level of truth which preju- 
 dice and propaganda never reach. 
 
 The organization of industry which followed the intro- 
 duction of steam was exceedingly rapid. It has taken less 
 than a century to transform the simple slow-going world, 
 where transportation was by horse-power or sails, and 
 where manufacturing was carried on in the home, or by 
 small groups in intimate relation with the employer, into 
 the world of today, with its railroads and steamers, its 
 electrical power, its giant corporations employing thou- 
 sands of hands. Society had no precedents to guide such 
 a development. There was no previous experience to sug- 
 gest the dangers which such a transformation of industry 
 would bring to employer and employee, and the ways by 
 which these dangers might be avoided or reduced. The 
 ruling political economy of the day was that of Adam 
 Smith's Wealth of Nations, The business man was en- 
 couraged to make money, free from state interference, be- 
 cause in so doing he performed a service to the people 
 needing his goods, and built up the wealth of the state. 
 
 This general theory of the relation between private 
 enterprise and public welfare, appears to be sound. It has 
 made for the development of public wealth: in increased 
 supplies of food and other essentials, in convenience, in 
 the rise of standards of living. For our purpose, which is 
 to test the character of the Universe, it will not be neces- 
 sary to discuss the existing economic system. Private 
 profit in Industry is the only plan of which we have any 
 practical knowledge, under modem conditions. Other sys- 
 tems may in course of time be conceived and put in opera- 
 tion. But we have as yet no basis of comparison, to deter- 
 mine whether they will represent a better adjustment to 
 
INDUSTRIAL WAR 177 
 
 our Divine environment. I propose to confine attention 
 to the subject of industrial relations within the present 
 system. Here we shall find enough diversity to make it 
 possible to compare results. 
 
 As the modem era developed, the idea of mutual serv- 
 ice was maintained, as far as trade was concerned. But 
 it dropped out of industrial relations. The manufacturer 
 came to deal with his employees as he did with his raw 
 material. The laborer was no longer a chattel. He soon 
 ceased to be bound to the employer as an industrial serf. 
 But in securing freedom of contract, he had become a com- 
 modity. Labor was an element in the business to be 
 bought in the cheapest market, according to the laws of 
 supply and demand, and without personal obligation. 
 
 Workmen naturally came to follow the same principle. 
 Their strength and skill was a commodity, which was to 
 be sold for what it would bring. In fact it was the only 
 thing they had to sell. The failure to dispose of it for a 
 living wage meant privation, and sometimes suffering and 
 death, for themselves and their families. After a long 
 and tragic struggle, in the early days of the Industrial era, 
 labor began to organize in its turn, in order to secure a 
 betterment of wages and working conditions through 
 partial or complete monopoly of the market. Industry, 
 instead of being a relation of mutual service and obliga- 
 tion, tended to become a battle for personal or group ad- 
 vantage. 
 
 This purely selfish theory of industrial relations has 
 been tried out for nearly a century. How has it worked ? 
 Laying aside abstract theories, sentiment and prejudice, 
 let us ask what groups of men do under certain condi- 
 tions, what are the general laws of human behavior as 
 applied to Industry. Behavior Psychology is throwing 
 new light on the study of Economics. 
 
 Limitation of space makes it necessary to confine atten- 
 tion to the two groups in direct contact : Management and 
 Labor. I can refer only incidentally to Capital and to a 
 
178 CHAOS OR COSMOS? 
 
 most important fourtli party, the Consumer or General 
 Public. An equally instructive study might be made of the 
 reaction of the Public to the various policies followed by 
 corporations and by labor groups. 
 
 I propose in this chapter to trace the immediate effect 
 of a policy of exploitation, whether on the part of cor- 
 porate management or of organized labor. Our purpose 
 will be best served by studying some extreme but fairly 
 typical cases from recent industrial history in the United 
 States. I take them largely from the pre-War period, 
 when conditions were more nearly normal. It is a pity to 
 wash all this dirty linen over again. But frequent laun- 
 derings are as necessary in Industry as in the home.^ 
 
 In 1913, the bitter strike in the coal fields of southern 
 Colorado, of which the Colorado Fuel and Iron Co. were 
 the largest operators, led to an investigation by the Com- 
 mittee on Mines and Mining of the House of Kepresenta- 
 tives. The situation is described as "like a system of 
 feudalism, with such regulations by law as the operators 
 were willing should be put into operation." The company 
 owned the land and buildings in the mining towns, and 
 in many cases the road by which the town was reached. 
 No employee was permitted to own his home, and dis- 
 
 *For the field covered in the next three chapters I consider the 
 four best introductions to be John Graham Brooks, Labor's Chal- 
 lenge to the Social Order, 1920; John R. Commons, Industrial Good- 
 will, 1919; Ray Stannard Baker, The New Industrial Unrest, 1920; 
 Ordway Tead and Henry C. Metcalf, Personnel Administration, 1920. 
 See also Henry A. Atkinson, Men and Things^, 1918; Stephen Lea- 
 cock, The Unsolved Riddle of Social Justice, 1920; Samuel Crowther, 
 Common Sense and Labour, 1920; John R. Commons and students, 
 Industrial Government, 1921; Scott Nearing, Poverty and Riches, 
 1916. For studies of organized labor: R. F. Hoxie, Trade Unionism 
 in the U. S., 1917; Geo. G. Groat, Introd. to the Study of Organized 
 Labor in Am., 1916; Carroll D. Wright, Battles of Labor, 1906. 
 Further bibliographies will be found in the text. For the parallel 
 industrial movements in Great Britain, to which the plan of my 
 book has allowed no reference, the student might make a beginning 
 with Abbott P. Usher, Introd. to the Induct. Hisi. of England^ 1920; 
 Sidney and Beatrice Webb, Hist, of Trade Unionism, revised ed., 
 1920; Meyer Bloomfield, Management and Men, 1919; Arthur Glea- 
 son. What the Workers Want, 1920; B. Seebohm*Rowntree, Human 
 Factor in Business, 1921. 
 
INDUSTEIAL WAR 179 
 
 charge meant eviction. Trading was practically restricted 
 to the company stora In general the towns were such 
 as might be expected under frontier conditions, with the 
 saloon as the only place of recreation, though some wel- 
 fare work had been attempted by the company. Local poli- 
 tics were notoriously corrupt. Interference by the com- 
 pany in elections was justified as an industrial neces- 
 sity.^ Juries were not selected according to law, and the 
 machinery of justice was completely in the company's 
 hands. Speaking of the method of drawing coroner's 
 juries, an under-sheriff testified that he was "always in- 
 structed, when being called to a mine to investigate an 
 accident, to take the coroner, proceed to the mine, go to 
 the superintendent and find out who he wanted on the 
 jury." The camp marshals and other guards were depu- 
 tized as sheriffs and thus clothed with the authority of the 
 state, although in the pay of the company and reporting 
 only to the company. The spy system was used, to learn 
 of possible disaffection among the men. An eight-hour 
 law had finally been secured, but state officials testified 
 that the enforcement of this and other laws was often 
 difficult. The miners believed that they were frequently 
 cheated in the weighing of coal, and did not dare to ask 
 for the check weighman allowed by law. The operators 
 claimed that the men were well paid and well housed, and 
 well looked after in the matter of sickness or injury. In 
 their view the workers were satisfied with conditions, and 
 the strike was due entirely to labor agitators. The com- 
 pany refused to have any dealings with the miners' organi- 
 zation, the United Mine Workers of America. While in 
 theory the men were allowed to belong to a union if they 
 so desired, any one who talked union too much was liable 
 to discharge as a trouble-maker. In some instances labor 
 organizers had been trailed and roughly handled. The 
 miners were absolutely without redress against the arbi- 
 trary and often tyrannical conduct of the local mine of- 
 * Supreme Court, Neely vs. Farr, Colorado Reports, 1916. 
 
180 CHAOS OE COSMOS? 
 
 ficials. The company claimed the riglit to run its own 
 business in its own way. Even after tlie reform which 
 followed the strike, one of the officers said : "We hope and 
 expect this plan to work so well that our men shall become 
 as happy and contented as the European peasantry." 
 
 These conditions had led to frequent strife. A general 
 strike occurred about every ten years. There was one in 
 1884, and another, the so-called Debs Strike, in 1894. 
 Foreign labor was introduced by the mining companies, 
 until the American miners numbered less than 25 per 
 cent. The new blood proved equally untractable. The 
 strike of 1903-4 was crushed by the company, after a 
 bitter struggle and much lawlessness and violence on both 
 sides. ^ In ten years, however, many of the strike-break- 
 ers introduced at that time had become sufficiently Ameri- 
 canized to attempt to force a recognition of the union. Eor 
 several weeks both sides made preparations by buying arms 
 and ammunition. The strike was called on Sept. 23, 1913, 
 about half of the men going out, according to the opera- 
 tors' estimate, or 95 per cent, according to the union lead- 
 ers. The rest remained at work, under promise of pro- 
 tection from the company. Trainloads of strike-breakers 
 were brought in under guard. The self-evicted miners 
 established tent colonies, conveniently located for picket- 
 ing. Though they may have armed themselves originally 
 as a measure of self-defense, there was an increasing ten- 
 dency to push their case by intimidation and violence. The 
 company men followed the same methods. The mines and 
 mining camps were protected by mine guards, deputy 
 sheriffs and detectives. Many of these were professional 
 gunmen of a low order. The struggle resolved itself into a 
 guerilla warfare between strikers and detectives. Out- 
 rages were committed by both sides. The calling in of the 
 state militia on Oct. 28, only served to increase the bit- 
 terness, as they tended to act on the side of the opera- 
 
 • Carroll D. Wright, Report on Labor Disturlxmoes in the State of 
 Colorado from 1880 to 1904. 
 
INDUSTRIAL WAR 181 
 
 tors, many of the militiamen being former mine guards of 
 a lawless and brutal type. On April 20, 1914, occurred tbe 
 so-called massacre of Ludlow. The militia shot into the 
 tent colony at that place and set fire to the tents, resulting 
 in the death of 5 men and 14 women and children. In 
 reprisal the strikers attacked a number of mines in the 
 district, killing or driving out the guards and burning the 
 buildings. The state of civil war was finally ended by 
 Federal troops. The company persisted in its refusal to 
 arbitrate, and, with the help of subservient state and 
 county officials, proceeded to have the miners' leaders 
 indicted for murder. The strike was finally called off 
 by the miners on Dec. 14.* 
 
 That the miners had been subjected to unjust and un- 
 democratic conditions, is confirmed by the later action of 
 the Colorado Fuel and Iron Co. John D. Eockefeller, 
 Jr., a director and large stockholder, had not visited the 
 state for ten years, and refused to intervene at the time 
 of the strike. His natural humanitarian instincts, rudely 
 awakened to the situation by repeated criticism and the 
 revelation of conditions, led him to adopt the plan of 
 industrial cooperation worked out by W. L. Mackenzie 
 King, the Canadian labor authority, who made a special 
 study of the situation in Colorado. I shall refer to this 
 in detail in a later chapter. 
 
 The Industrial Relations Commission, in its hearings at 
 Seattle, Wash., in August, 1915, brought out much inter- 
 esting testimony as to the seasonal labor problem in the 
 Puget Sound region. There pass across the judicial stage 
 the wise public official, the militant professor and social 
 
 * Report on the Colorado Strike Investigation, 1915; Hearings 
 before a Suhoom. of the Com. on Mines amd Mining, 1914. A later 
 investigation was made by the Commission on Industrial Relations: 
 see Geo. P. West, Report on the Colorado Strike, 1915, very highly 
 colored; Final Report and Testimony, 1916, 7, 6345 to 9, 8480. See 
 also John A. Fitch, Survey, 27, 1706, Feb. 3, 1912; 33, 241, Dec. 5, 
 1914; and report by Henry A. Atkinson, pub. by Federal Council of 
 Churches, 1914. 
 
182 CHAOS OR COSMOS? 
 
 worker, the grumbling employer, whose apparent smugness 
 and arrogance might be due partly to his being put on the 
 defensive by the Commission's anti-capitalistic bias, the 
 labor organizer, suspicious and censorious, the leader in 
 the I. W. W., explaining his revolutionary philosophy in 
 frank and picturesque language. That labor had a griev- 
 ance was clear. During the summer local industries needed 
 twice as much help as during the winter. Manufacturing 
 plants required a surplus of about 23 per cent, this extra 
 labor being used only a few months in the year. The men 
 engaged in logging could not average more than six or 
 seven months of employment, netting from $350 to $700, 
 according to their skill. Owing to hard times in the lum- 
 ber industry, the current wage for common labor had 
 been reduced from $2.25 to $2.00, or $26 a month and 
 board. Some men were receiving as low as $1.50, of which 
 $1.00 must be spent for board. The blanket stiff" (he 
 was expected to provide his own bedding, and carried it on 
 his back from one job to another), secured employment 
 through one of the private agencies, and was herded to 
 the job in a second-hand passenger coach, sometimes going 
 a day or two without provision for food or water. In 
 railroad construction work the fare in was provided by 
 the company. In other cases the man's baggage was taken 
 by the employer as security for the fare advanced, the em- 
 ployment agency fee, the hospital fee of $1.00 a month, and 
 the first week's board. Food was almost uniformly good, 
 at least in the logging camps, as it was necessary to keep 
 the human engine properly stoked. Housing and sani- 
 tary conditions varied from good to unspeakably bad, the 
 worst camps paying more attention to the condition of their 
 horses than to that of their men. The labor turnover was 
 very large. The men frequently quit after a few days' 
 work, and started on another round of transportation, em- 
 ployment and hospital fees. One employer stated that in 
 order to keep a crew of 138 men working, he had been 
 obliged to employ 234 men during a given month. Most 
 
INDUSTRIAL WAR 183 
 
 of these men were shipped in originally for railroad con- 
 struction work, drifting into other lines when this gave 
 out. Some of them had left families in the East. 
 
 Leaving out of consideration the skilled workers in the 
 mills and woods, it is evident that the continued employ- 
 ment of relatively unskilled men under the conditions 
 described, had been developing a type of itinerant laborer, 
 who worked at any job that came to hand. Eeceiving an 
 inadequate and uncertain wage, a prey to the exploiters of 
 his appetites, he had no chance to save money and make a 
 home. Taking little interest in his work, restless under 
 continuous employment, independent but not self-respect- 
 ing, subject to constant graft and petty tyranny, he was 
 bitter toward the employer class, and lent a ready ear to 
 revolutionary propaganda. I have checked the testimony 
 by my observations during six years' residence in a mill 
 town in the lumbering region of Minnesota. Due allow- 
 ance must be made for the operation of the law of supply 
 and demand, the saloon temptations of that day, the in- 
 adequate and often corrupt employment agencies, and the 
 abuses of the hospital system. But a large factor in the 
 situation was the employers' handling of their men, not as 
 human beings, whose welfare was important and whose 
 loyal cooperation it was worth while to secure, but as so 
 much muscle to be rented at the market rate, without fur- 
 ther responsibility. Any one familiar with the conditions 
 recognized the I. W. W. and similar movements as a nat- 
 ural reaction to the treatment received, a symptom of al- 
 most unbearable working conditions.^ 
 
 Our third example is the situation in the woolen and cot- 
 ton mills of Lawrence, Mass. The textile industries in 
 all countries are carried on largely by unskilled labor, 
 women and children being as valuable as men. The mills 
 in Lawrence had prospered and expanded, until by the 
 time of the strike of 1912 the city reached a population of 
 
 "Commiss. on Indust. Relations, Final Report and Testimony^ 
 1916, 5, 4097-4571. See also Carleton H. Parker, The Casual Laborer, 
 1920. 
 
184 CHAOS OE COSMOS? 
 
 85,000. Immigration from Europe fumislied an unlim- 
 ited supply of cheap labor. Successive waves, with lower 
 standards of living, had tended to displace the American, 
 British and German operatives. Male workers over 18 
 years of age averaged $10.20 per week (17.5^ receiving 
 less than $7.00), and female workers over 18 only $7.67. 
 Even at these wages, continuous employment could not be 
 counted on. In two-thirds of the families visited by the 
 agent of the Bureau of Labor, the wife or other members 
 of the family worked in the mills, in addition to the hus- 
 band. In fact, it was difficult to make a living unless the 
 family could supply at least two wage-earners. When a 
 mother was compelled to enter the mill, the young chil- 
 dren were usually boarded out during the day with a 
 family which had an adult or older child available. About 
 half of the children of the city between 14 and 18 were 
 employed. Lawrence had the highest death rate of all tex- 
 tile cities, the infant mortality reaching 172 per thousand 
 in 1909. Out of 188 typical households, 109 kept lodgers 
 or boarders; members of the family totalled 941 and 
 lodgers 368, or 1309 persons in 863 rooms. The workers 
 lived in the wooden tenements which had grown up to 
 meet the demand for housing. In the most congested dis- 
 tricts, the rear as well as the front of the lot was filled 
 with buildings, so close together that there was no room 
 to set a garbage can, the population reaching 556 to the 
 acre. To take a typical case, a Lithuanian family, con- 
 sisting of husband, wife, four children under 13 and 4 
 lodgers, paid a weekly rental of $2.25 for ^yo rooms. The 
 husband's earnings, when he was able to work full time, 
 were $7.25 per week, and $4.00 was received from the 
 lodgers, who were provided with coffee in the morning 
 and soup in the evening. The monthly expenditure for 
 food averaged $16.80. While it may be doubted whether 
 this particular family could save money, the savings banks 
 of Lawrence averaged $62,000 of deposits each week. 
 The city had become virtually a foreign colony, of many 
 
INDUSTRIAL WAR 185 
 
 races and tongues. Of the newer immigrants, less than 
 one half had learned to speak English. Sixteen out of 
 every hundred could not read or write. Only three out 
 of every ten eligible for citizenship had taken out naturali- 
 zation papers. The mills treated their labor merely as a 
 commodity. Not even the most elementary welfare work 
 had been attempted. The old-fashioned method was fol- 
 lowed by which the foremen did the hiring and firing. 
 The workers were speeded up by the offer of premiums 
 to the more skilled operatives, who acted as pace-setters. 
 Any movement toward collective bargaining was consist- 
 ently opposed. Various craft unions claimed a member- 
 ship of 2500. But the unskilled laborers, overworked and 
 underpaid, almost untouched by American standards and 
 ideals, constituted an unorganized and undisciplined mass, 
 where revolutionary propaganda found a ready soil. The 
 Industrial Workers of the World, organizing along racial 
 lines, had gained a following of about 1000. 
 
 On Jan. 1, 1912, the mills, in complying with the new 
 state law for the employment of women and children, 
 reduced the hours of all operatives from 56 to 64 hours 
 per week. When the discovery was made that the weekly 
 wage would be correspondingly reduced, the human worm 
 turned. After two days of explosive violence, Joseph J. 
 Ettor, an organizer of the I. W. W., took charge of the 
 strike. Through the magnetism, wisdom and executive 
 ability of this young Italian-American, the inchoate mass 
 became a united and disciplined army. A strike commit- 
 tee was organized, composed of four representatives from 
 each of the sixteen nationalities. Relief funds were se- 
 cured through an appeal to labor sympathizers throughout 
 the country. Though frankly revolutionary in his attitude 
 toward capital, Ettor was not incendiary. His policy was 
 passive resistance — ^withholding labor in order to stop 
 production — aided by active picketing. There was much 
 disorder and intimidation. But violence was restrained 
 to Buch an extent that^ with 23,000 at one time on strike. 
 
186 CHAOS OR COSMOS? 
 
 only 296 arrests were made during the two months' period, 
 many of them for minor offenses. The situation however 
 was extremely tense. A slight cause might at any time 
 have precipitated serious rioting and bloodshed. The 
 strikers felt that the militia were there to break the strike ; 
 that they had arrayed against them the forces of govern- 
 ment as well as of capitalism. Their bitterness was in- 
 creased by the tactical blunders of the employer group, 
 such as the arrest of Ettor and Giovanni on the charge of 
 inciting to murder, which was not sustained by the trial 
 court. Although the oflficers of the American Woolen 
 Co., the principal protagonist, had claimed that the condi- 
 tion of the textile industry did not warrant larger wages, 
 they were forced in the end to grant a substantial increase 
 and make other concessions. The terms of settlement rec- 
 ognized the fact that the cheapest labor was underpaid, 
 those on the lower wage scales being given a larger share of 
 the increase.^ 
 
 The end of the strike brought no change in the policy of 
 the companies, and another bitter struggle broke out in 
 1919, the workers again winning their demands.*^ One of 
 the most serious elements in the situation is the fact that 
 these foreign laborers, with a new desire for freedom and 
 a growing sense of their own power, are gaining their 
 chief impression of our government from the Lawrence 
 police. 
 
 We now turn to the other side of the shield. Examples 
 will be given which help to explain the widespread hos- 
 tility to the labor union on the part of employers.® 
 
 •Chas. p. Neill, Report on Strike of Textile Workers in Loajo- 
 rence, Mass.^ Bureau of Labor, 1912; Hearings before the Com,, on 
 Rules of the House of Rep's, 1912; W. J. Lauck, Survey, 27, 1772, 
 Feb. 17, 1912. See also, from opposite angles, Justus Ebert, The 
 Trial of a New Society, pub. by the I. W. W., 1913; John B. McPher- 
 8on, Bull, of Nat. Assoc, of Wool Manufacturers, Sept., 1912. 
 
 'See John A. Fitch, Survey, 42, 42, Apr. 5, 1919; F. Ernest John- 
 son, The New Spirit in Industry, 1919, 9ff, 
 
 'The Employer's case is given fully and fairly in the statement 
 by three members of the U, S, Commiss. on Induct. Relations, 1916, 
 1, 235-248. 
 
INDUSTRIAL WAE 187 
 
 I begin with the historic struggle between the Interna- 
 tional Association of Bridge and Structural Ironworkers, 
 and the National Erectors* Association, which started in 
 1905. The union was young, and intoxicated with its first 
 successes. Frank M. Eyan, the new national president, 
 was anxious to make a better showing than his predeces- 
 sor. In the Spring of 1903, a general strike against the 
 American Bridge Co., a subsidiary of the U. S. Steel Cor- 
 poration, had brought an agreement between the employers' 
 association and the union, which in practice meant a 
 closed shop. Friction arose two years later over the em- 
 ployment of non-union men by sub-contractors, and by 
 plants constructing buildings for their own use. The of- 
 fer of the American Bridge Co. to yield the point in regard 
 to sub-contracts, thus unionizing its construction work 
 throughout the country, was rejected by the union, which 
 made what Gompers has called the supreme blunder of 
 insisting on all its demands. This, together with a breach 
 of contract by the INTew York local, and a general strike 
 of the structural ironworkers in that city on the refusal 
 of a wage increase, roused the employers to aggressive 
 action. On May 1, 1906, the ^N'ational Erectors' Associa- 
 tion adopted an open shop policy. Under the circum- 
 stances, the struggle of the union was not only for victory, 
 but for existence, and for preservation of the high wages 
 and the 8-hour day it had been instrumental in securing. 
 Practically all other unions had been crushed out by the 
 Steel Trust, within its field. 
 
 Since diplomacy had failed, the men turned to the com- 
 mon tactics of intimidation. In the early years of the 
 fight there is a record of repeated assaults on non-union 
 workmen. With the growing vigilance of the employers, 
 and their use of detectives and spies, such work came to 
 be increasingly dangerous. At the same time the temper 
 of the union men grew more bitter. Their officers, with 
 the tacit endorsement of the membership, began to employ 
 professional thugs to carry out the assaults. When intimi- 
 
188 CHAOS OB COSMOS? 
 
 dation of workmen failed to bring the desired result, re- 
 sort was had to dynamiting the construction work and 
 machinery of open shop contractors. In the course of six 
 years at least 100 attempts of this sort were made, in 
 various parts of the country. Ortie McManigal is known 
 to have been the agent in 20 cases, and James B. Mc- 
 Namara in 16. They were paid $200 and expenses for 
 each job. The lurid story may be read in the pages of 
 McManigal's confession. The work was directed by John 
 J. Mcl^amara, secretary of the Ironworkers' Union, from 
 the headquarters in Indianapolis, with the approval and 
 cooperation of the other international officers. The blow- 
 ing up of the Los Angeles Times building in 1910, with 
 the loss of 21 lives, though done by James Mc]!^amara, 
 seems to have been instigated by labor leaders in Califor- 
 nia. 
 
 McManigal, who had been shadowed for many months 
 by detectives, turned state's evidence on his arrest. After 
 trading on the sympathy of labor throughout the country, 
 which believed the McNamaras to be victims of a capitalist 
 conspiracy, and exhausting every corrupt method of break- 
 ing down the prosecution, the defense suddenly collapsed. 
 The two brothers were obliged to enter pleas of guilty, 
 before the case came to trial. At a later trial in Indian- 
 apolis, 38 other union officials and their agents were sent to 
 the penitentiary. While out under heavy bond, pending 
 an appeal. President Kyan was reelected to office. 
 
 Let us now check up the results of this policy of in- 
 timidation. After six years, the union membership repre- 
 sented a relatively lower proportion of the trade. While 
 some of the smaller contractors had yielded to threats 
 and unionized their shops, many of these reversed their 
 policy on the first opportunity. The E^ational Erectors' 
 Association, on the contrary, was stronger than ever. And 
 the bitterness of its members toward union organizations 
 was greatly intensified. The cause of organized labor had 
 received its severest blow since the Haymarket Riot. Even 
 
INDUSTRIAL WAR 189 
 
 without the wave of public indignation which followed the 
 dynamite trials, the union had failed to attain its object. 
 In nearly 50 per cent of the industry union members were 
 compelled to take work as individuals, at lower wages, and 
 with no voice as to the conditions of labor.^ 
 
 My next exhibit is a sample of what Hoxie called the 
 predatory union. It will not be necessary to go into past 
 history. In October, 1920, a committee appointed by the 
 legislature to investigate the housing situation in 'New 
 York City, unearthed a system of organized graft in the 
 building trades. A Building Trades Council had been 
 formed a year before, as a federation of most of the 
 unions engaged in this line, including about 115,000 
 workers. Its President was Kobert P. Brindell. Ephraim 
 B. Levy, a contractor, testifies that he was employing about 
 150 iron and stone men on a two-million dollar office 
 building on Seventh Avenue. It was understood to be a 
 union job. The men struck without warning, with no 
 grievance over wages or hours, and remained out for two 
 months. Finally George Backer, the builder who was 
 superintending the construction, agreed to get the men 
 back. He could arrange it with Brindell; but it would 
 cost money. The price named was $25,000. Mr. Levy 
 paid over $15,000 in cash, with the promise of $10,000 
 more in a month or two. In a few days the men came back 
 to work. He gives his testimony with considerable un- 
 willingness and trepidation, as the building is not yet 
 finished and he is afraid of further trouble. George 
 Backer is called to the stand, and acknowledges receiving 
 the money specified. After some wild stories about losing 
 these sums in race-track gambling and at cards, he testifies 
 that he sent the money to Brindell, whom he always called 
 up when there was trouble on a building. Brindell claimed 
 that the iron-workers were not union men, and he had 
 
 "Luke Grant, Report to Commiss. on Indust. Relations, 1915. 
 This book is not only a fair presentation of the controversy, but a 
 valuable study of working class psychology. See also Wm. J. Bums, 
 The Masked War, 1913. 
 
im CHAOS OK COSMOS? 
 
 decided to make an example of this job. The matter could 
 be fixed up, however. Backer had several interviews with 
 two walking delegates, names unknown. At first they de- 
 manded $60,000, as they had to divide with a good many 
 people, and the cost of living had gone up. Finally they 
 agreed to the $25,000. The men were to be sent back to 
 the job, and the first installment paid within ten days, 
 the balance as specified. Said agreement was duly carried 
 out, and after that the work went along nicely. Nothing 
 more was said about non-union iron-workers, all erectors' 
 shops in 'New York being in theory non-union. Brindell, 
 he says, is absolute boss; strike or no strike depends on 
 him; he can start or stop jobs any minute. ^^ We learn 
 of master plumbers adding 4% to their contracts, as an 
 "insurance fund" handled by a certain lawyer, who kept 
 1% and handed over the other 3% to the unions. An 
 attempt to bribe the mayor into signing a limestone con- 
 tract of over two million dollars for the new Court House, 
 in return for the political support of the Building Trades 
 Council. The members of the House Wreckers' Union, 
 in order to obtain work, forced to join a new union af- 
 filiated with Brindell's organization, at a cost of $50 
 initiation fee, and $10 a week. The 18,000 members of 
 the Bricklayers' Helpers and Common Laborers Union 
 paying an assessment of $2 a week, in return for which 
 the Building Trades Council boosted their wages to $7 a 
 day, and was preparing to add another dollar. And so, 
 day after day, the slimy trail of graft is uncovered by 
 the investigating committee. People begin to realize why 
 contractors are unwilling to start any more buildings. 
 "New Yorkers recall a predecessor of Brindell, the notorious 
 Sam Parks of two decades earlier, who after his conviction 
 was chosen by his followers to head a labor parade. He 
 proudly rode the length of Fifth Avenue, mounted on a 
 white horse. 
 
 I reproduce, as Exhibit C, an open letter from the 
 
 ^N. y. Times, Oct. 22, 1920. 
 
INDUSTEIAL WAR 191 
 
 Superintendeint of the Hamilton-Beach Manufacturing 
 Co., of Racine, Wisconsin. "If ever the union labor had 
 a chance to show what they could do, they have had it in 
 this factory, because a little over a year ago this company 
 turned its factory over to union labor, granting all the 
 demands of labor and giving them more than they asked, 
 and ever since then we have had our troubles. The union 
 immediately appointed shop stewards in each of the de- 
 partments and everything done in the factory had to go 
 through these shop stewards. The last three months it was 
 hell around this factory. All we had to do was to grant 
 demands and the moment we refused they threatened to 
 strike. The last thirty days the factory ran we had two 
 strikes. In the first strike, the factory convinced the union 
 officers that the men were wrong and they were ordered 
 back to work. The last strike was because we laid off 
 seven men in the tool room as we had no work for them. 
 Without any notice, the entire tool room went on a strike. 
 The following Tuesday morning the entire machine shop 
 went on a strike that we presume was in sympathy with 
 the tool makers. Up to this date the machinists have 
 made no demands of the Hamilton-Beach Manufacturing 
 Co. and we don't know what their trouble really was. Six 
 hundred of our employees admitted the machinists were 
 wrong by continuing to work. Of course on account of the 
 machine shop being out on strike, it was impossible to 
 continue operations, therefore the factory was compelled 
 to close down. There were no objections to wages as 
 everybody was satisfied with the big wages they were get- 
 ting. There was no dissatisfaction about working condi- 
 tions. The union simply wanted to boss the running of the 
 factory. We waited all week in hopes of getting this mat- 
 ter straightened out as the company did not want to close 
 and was anxious to get the matter straightened out so as 
 to be able to operate as we are way ahead with orders. A 
 week before the last strike, there were some men laid off 
 for spoiling work. They went to the shop steward and 
 
192 CHAOS OR COSMOS? 
 
 were ordered back to work. The factory was in constant 
 turmoil. It was simply impossible to satisfy all the de- 
 mands and quibbles made by the union. We granted 
 nearly every demand we could in order to keep the factory 
 running, but towards the last we simply could not satisfy 
 them. We are very sorry that the factory had to close 
 down, and put so many people out of work, but it simply 
 couldn't be helped as they insisted upon striking. . . . 
 ISlow, therefore, the company has decided that it will have 
 nothing further to do with a closed shop. When this com- 
 pany opens up again, it must be an open shop. We will 
 not allow shop stewards on the floor. We will not recog- 
 nize union labor ; however, we do not care whether a man 
 is a union man. The company will operate what is known 
 as an open shop. It does not discriminate between union 
 and non-union men in its service, nor will it permit either 
 union or non-union men in its employ to make this ques- 
 tion one of contention between them." ^^ 
 
 In the Chicago hearings of the Industrial Kelations 
 Commission, testimony was given by Charles Piez, Presi- 
 dent of the Link Belt Co., with which he had been con- 
 nected for 25 years. A member of the Illinois compen- 
 sation and factory act commissions, his general attitude 
 toward labor and labor organization was intelligent and 
 cordial. The union shop had not worked well, however, 
 when tried in their Chicago plant. In the molding room, 
 the output had been between 90 and 100 of the 6-inch 
 rollers. The shop steward ordered the production cut 
 down to 60. To prove that 60 was too small an output, 
 the firm brought in a man from one of the machine shops, 
 who in the first day, without previous experience, put out 
 90 rollers. But the limit was kept by the union at 60. 
 Men were being paid full wages for two thirds the normal 
 .output. In the machine shop their experience was similar. 
 When checked by figures from their other plants, the output 
 in the last year of closed-shop operation had been reduced 
 
 ^Raome Journal News, Aug. 21, 1920. 
 
INDUSTEIAL WAR 193 
 
 35 per cent As the firm was obliged to compete with other 
 factories having a smaller overhead expense, on account 
 of their location, it could not continue in business without 
 a cooperation on the part of the labor force that would en- 
 sure a larger output per man. "If those men arbitrarily 
 reduced the output and show no sympathy with the prob- 
 lems we have and don't offer to cooperate with us in secur- 
 ing an outlet for our work, then we have to say : ^ You are 
 not the men we can represent, because we are virtually 
 your agents in dealing with our customers. We are trying 
 to find some opportunity to sell your labor. If you are un- 
 willing to offer the same thing to this man in Birmingham 
 that the man in Columbus offers he is going to take the 
 Columbus man, and we can not do anything to help 
 you.' "12 
 
 There are other counts in the opposition of employers to 
 the labor union, but it may be as well to rest the case at 
 this point. 
 
 It is clear that the selfish theory of industrial relations 
 has been a good deal of a f ailura From the standpoint of 
 the Employer, while individual firms have made money 
 through the exploitation of their workers, such a course 
 has brought a hostility on the part of a large section of the 
 the laboring class that is putting an increasing handicap 
 on production. From the side of Labor, methods of vio- 
 lence have been condemned by the wiser leaders as short- 
 sighted. ^^ The exactions of powerful labor organizations 
 in many cases, have produced an exasperation and fear in 
 the employer class which hinder the legitimate demands of 
 Labor for better conditions. From the standpoint of the 
 Community, the production of goods, which is the object 
 of our highly specialized industrial organization and equip- 
 ment, is only 15 to 25 per cent of the capacity of our work- 
 men, according to recent estimates. The effect of this situ- 
 
 ^ Final Report, 1916, 4, 3175 if. 
 
 "The evidence for this is well presented by Robert Hunter, Vio- 
 lence and thei Labor Movement, 1914. 
 
194 CHAOS OR COSMOS? 
 
 ation on the cost of living and on nltimat© buying power is 
 extremely serious. Even with the recent high average of 
 wages, living conditions in many of our industries have 
 been mortgaging the health and efficiency of future gen- 
 erations. And we face a spirit of radicalism, which is 
 only spread further by attempts at repression. A year ago, 
 in 'New York City alone, there were said to be 46 news- 
 papers, with a combined circulation of 1,200,000 per issue, 
 advocating the overthrow of the existing system of govern- 
 ment. We do not need to go to Eussia for evidence as to 
 the natural reaction produced by a policy of autocracy and 
 exploitation. 
 
XVIII. 
 
 ATTEMPTED EEMEDIES. 
 
 The sickness of the body industrial, so apparent to every- 
 one, has invited the attention of a long list of doctors. 
 Still holding the standpoint of Behavior Psychology, let 
 us examine some of these attempted remedies, for the light 
 they may throw on the nature of the Universe. Our order 
 of treatment will be topical rather than historical. 
 
 The improvement of working conditions has tended to 
 stabilize labor. As we have already considered the situa- 
 tion in the lumber camps of Washington, equally unsatis- 
 factory to employer and employed, I give as a contrasting 
 picture the model plant whose policy was thus stated by 
 W. J. Rucker, a member of the firm, himself a former 
 woodsman. "I believe in the employment of labor that 
 it is important that you treat them right, and that you 
 keep a good sanitary condition about your camps. ... I 
 don't believe there is labor in any part of the United States 
 that compares with the labor in the logging camps and 
 sawmills of Puget Sound. I believe they are possibly more 
 intelligent, better informed, and, by being a little careful 
 in selecting, just as honorable." Men were not employed 
 until they could give references as to character and fitness. 
 Expensive provisions were made for sanitation. The rooms 
 in the company camps were provided with steam heat, 
 electric lights, and hot and cold water. Bedding, blankets, 
 and even sheets were furnished. In other words, the same 
 care was being taken for the men's cleanliness and comfort, 
 as all the lumber camps had found it necessary to take with 
 their feeding. Every encouragement was given them to 
 
 195 
 
196 CHAOS OR COSMOS? 
 
 save money and own their own homes. The logging and 
 milling operations were made continuous rather than sea- 
 sonal, and the wages paid averaged considerahly higher 
 than in other plants. In the making of shingles, speeding- 
 up was discouraged, in order to secure a higher grade of 
 product. Of the 231 men employed in the saw and shingle 
 mill (135 of them married), 149 had been with the com- 
 pany for a year, and 50 for ^yo years or over. Of the 117 
 men in the logging camp (36 of them married), 64 had 
 worked a year or more. The concern was making money, at 
 a time when competing firms were barely holding their 
 own.^ Mr. Kucker writes me that their operations con- 
 tinued to be satisfactory during the War period, when the 
 labor problem in most of the Washington mills was ex- 
 tremely serious. 
 
 Many employers went a step further. From providing 
 wholesome and agreeable working conditions, which is a 
 proper and remunerative charge on any industry, they 
 passed to definite plans for the welfare of their employees. 
 These ranged all the way from beautiful factory sur- 
 roundings and model homes, to provisions for recreation 
 and general schooling. In some cases the motive was 
 frankly to secure contented workmen, and forestall trouble 
 from labor unions. In other cases the employer undoubt- 
 edly considered himself a philanthropist, using his wealth 
 and power to benefit the men and women working under 
 him. To a certain extent the movement has secured the 
 loyalty of employees.^ It has helped, as Brooks says, to 
 make work more than a routine, and labor a human rela- 
 tion rather than a commodity.^ The experiments made by 
 individual firms have raised the standards of Industry, for 
 example in factory construction, or in provisions for safety. 
 
 '■Commiss. on Indust. Relations, 1916, 5, 4304 if., 4515 if, 
 
 *0f 174 establishments studied by the Bureau of Labor Statistics, 
 
 136 stated that there had been a reduction in the labor turnover. 
 
 Bull. 250, 1919. 
 
 ^Labor's Challenge to the Social Order, chap. 7. See also Chaa. 
 
 R. Henderson, Citizens in Industry, 1915; Ida M. Tarbell, New 
 
 IdeaAs m Business, 1916; Gteo. M. Price, The Modem Factory, 1914. 
 
ATTEMPTED EEMEDIES 197 
 
 Henderson reminds ns that, as private charity developed 
 into a responsibility assumed by the state, so the benevolent 
 works of employers soon come to be required by law. 
 
 Underlying this attempted remedy, however, is an ele- 
 ment of unsound psychology. Self-respecting people re- 
 sent charity. They value what they pay for and have a 
 share in achieving. Welfare work, under whatever guise, 
 has frequently been resented by the worker as a form of 
 feudal paternalism, a taxation of his earnings for some- 
 thing he did not want or preferred to secure for himself, 
 an attempt by capitalism to stifle the legitimate desire of 
 the working class to improve their own status through or- 
 ganization. The classic examples are the bitter strike in 
 the model city of Pullman in 1894, and the partial failure 
 of the J^ational Cash Kegister program in 1901. This feel- 
 ing has been growing in intensity during the last few years. 
 So strong is the present suspicion of "welfare work" on 
 the part of organized labor, that even the term has been 
 discarded by progressive managers. The function of the 
 modern "service department" is to secure the conditions 
 under which labor is most efficient. 
 
 Profit sharing has been tried, in various forms, as a 
 panacea for industrial unrest and inefficiency. In addi- 
 tion to a fixed wage, payments in money or stock are made 
 to employees, with the object of securing an interest in the 
 work of the plant, and a more permanent labor force. There 
 are many rocks in human nature on which such plans meet 
 shipwreck. The mere hand-out savors too much of char- 
 ity. Periodic cash payments soon come to be accepted as 
 a right, and cease to be a stimulus. The reluctance of the 
 average firm to open its books to the public, leaves a sus- 
 picion of profiteering and economic injustice. In the 
 Willys-Overland Co. of Toledo, a profit-sharing plan was 
 announced at the beginning of 1919, on a basis of half 
 and half. At the end of the first quarter, $415,000 was 
 distributed to the employees as their share. The men struck 
 a few days later. Their claim was, if 50 per cent of the 
 
198 CHAOS OR COSMOS? 
 
 profits amounted to as much as that, the firm could afford 
 to raise wages. With a large labor force, it is difficult to 
 educate the rank and file in the principles and practice of 
 profit-sharing; the relative effect of each workman on the 
 total profits is too small to serve as an incentive to in- 
 creased effort, watchfulness and team-work. Some of the 
 most successful schemes are those which share pro- 
 fits in the form of credit on the purchase of company stock. 
 The employee not only becomes a financial partner in the 
 enterprise, but he learns the habit of thrift and* provides 
 an income for the future, in many cases supplemented by 
 a service pension. Unless properly safeguarded, for ex- 
 ample by some provision for selling one's stock back to 
 the company, this tying of the employee to the business has 
 its own social dangers, which organized labor has been 
 quick to detect. It interferes with the worker's freedom 
 to better himself by a change of employment. It under- 
 mines his power to bargain collectively for better condi- 
 tions, and enforce such demands by a strike if necessary. 
 As the collaborators in the volume on Profit Sharing put 
 it : "An employer's freedom from strikes should rest upon 
 fair wages, good conditions of employment, considerate 
 treatment, deserved loyalty, and recognition of efficient 
 service. ... It is in enhancing the desirability of em- 
 ployment with a fair employer that genuine profit sharing 
 can play its part in promoting industrial peace." * 
 
 The opposition of organized labor to compulsory arbitra- 
 tion and legal limitation of the right to strike, illustrates 
 the same psychological principle. The modem workman 
 cannot be compelled to work under unsatisfactory condi- 
 tions. The nearest approach to this is the Australian plan 
 of fining those who refuse to abide by an award, under a 
 system of arbitration they have freely entered. The superi- 
 ority of voluntary agreements was well stated by the U. S. 
 
 *Burritt, Dennison, Gay, Heilman and Kendall, Profit Sharing, 
 1918, 91; Boris Emmet, Profit Sharing in the U. S., Bur. of Labor 
 Statistics, BuU. 208, 1917. 
 
ATTEMPTED REMEDIES 199 
 
 Board of Mediation and Conciliation, for railway disputes. 
 "There is no decision against either party, and neither of 
 them suffers defeat. The indispensable service in which 
 they are engaged goes on under conditions to which both 
 parties have agreed, and this largely insures those har- 
 monious relations between employer and employee which 
 are so essential to working efficiency." ^ 
 
 Before the War, government regulation of industrial 
 relations was confined largely to sanitation, safety and 
 the restriction of woman and child labor. Minimum wage 
 laws have been passed by the more progressive states, but 
 they apply only to female and minor workers.^ Mere man, 
 though no longer protected by an exclusive ballot, must 
 work for what he can get. The War Labor Board, like a 
 just but firm parent, settled something like 600 quarrels 
 in the course of a year's time, adjusted grievances, and 
 made American industry repeat this creed : no strikes dur- 
 ing war time, the right of workers to organize and bar- 
 gain collectively through their chosen representatives, equal 
 pay to women for equal work, and the right of all workers 
 to a living wage. Unruly children were threatened with 
 a spanking, as when munition workers in Bridgeport went 
 out on strike because they were dissatisfied with the award. 
 They were told by President Wilson that if they persisted 
 they would be barred from employment in war industries 
 and lose their claim to exemption under the draft. In the 
 case of one recalcitrant employer, punishment was actually 
 carried out, when the government took over the plant of 
 the Smith and Wesson Co., which had refused to comply 
 with the Board's recommendations. These examples had 
 
 ■Report for 1913-1917. See also Report of President's Industrial 
 Commission, 1920; Geo. E. Barnett and David A. McCabe, Media- 
 tion, Investigation and Arbitration in Indust. Disputes, 1916; Carl 
 H. Mote, Indust. Arbitration, 1916; Mary T. Rankin, ArHt. a/nd 
 Condi, in Australasia, 1916; Research Reports of Nat. Indust. Con- 
 ference Board: Canadian Indust. Disputes Investigation Act, 1918; 
 Arbitration am,d Wage-Fixing in Australia, 1918. 
 
 •Chas. H. Verrill, Minimum Wage Legislation in the U. 8. a/nd 
 For. C(yuntrie8, Bur. of Labor Statistics, BuU. 167, 1&15. 
 
200 CHAOS OR COSMOS? 
 
 a good effect. Thereafter, for some months, the decisions 
 of the Board and the principles on which they were based 
 were accepted without question by all parties concerned. 
 In fact it developed, as its secretary says, into a supreme 
 court of industry, which adjusted disputes so that maxi- 
 mum production was secured.'^ With the coming of Peace, 
 the nation reverted to a state of industrial war. 
 
 The bonus plan has been a favorite method of stimulat- 
 ing production and securing a satisfied and loyal labor 
 force. Modem industry has tended to rely exclusively on 
 the money incentive. It has assumed that men are natu- 
 rally averse to labor, that they must be stimulated to work 
 by the necessity of securing a living for themselves and 
 their families, and by the offer of greater rewards for in- 
 creased effort. Acquisitiveness is undoubtedly one of the 
 most powerful human instincts. We have learned a good 
 deal in recent years as to the way this motive operates. 
 One thing we have discovered is that acquisitiveness, once 
 strongly stimulated, cannot be satisfied. The more the 
 worker gets, the greater his wants. The recent demand for 
 increasingly higher wages, and the absorption of such wages 
 in a higher scale of living, is due largely to the standards 
 set by the employer class, with which the newspaper and 
 the moving picture have made the worker thoroughly fa- 
 miliar. That efficient labor in Ajuerica will ever be satis- 
 fied is not probable, nor is it desirable. The satisfied work- 
 man either does little work because he has few wants, or 
 he is too exhausted and cowed to desire better conditions 
 and make an effort to secure them. High wages do not 
 necessarily mean a high labor cost per unit of output 
 Wm. C. Eedfield proved years ago that the well-fed and 
 ambitious American workman would submit to a strain 
 of rapid productive effort, of which the low-priced foreign 
 workman was not capable. He cited the American carpen- 
 ter in Paris who did more work at $4.50 per day than 
 four French carpenters at $1.90 ; the fact that his factory 
 ' National War Lalor Board, Docket, vol. 5, 1919. 
 
ATTEMPTED EEMEDIES 201 
 
 could fill orders in Belgium in competition with tlie local 
 factories, which paid the lowest wages in Europe ; the in- 
 ability of Japanese shops to replace American locomotives 
 on their railways, because, though paying one-fifth of our 
 wages, the labor cost was three and a half times greater.® 
 Henry Ford's high-wage plan, with a high standard of 
 living and saving enforced by inquisitorial methods, has 
 lowered labor turnover and increased output. High wages 
 do not mean "contented" workmen. But if other conditions 
 are equally satisfactory, the firm which pays above the 
 standard wage is likely to have a more loyal body of 
 workers. 
 
 Another thing we have learned is that acquisitiveness 
 may be satisfied so rapidly that it ceases to be a stimulus. 
 In the studies which led up to Scientific Management, Tay- 
 lor made the discovery that a 60 per cent rise in wages was 
 the largest increase which could be safely offered as an 
 incentive.^ If given more than this, men tended to be- 
 come irregular, shiftless, extravagant and dissipated. An 
 interesting confirmation of this is the lowered efficiency 
 of labor under the tremendous wage increases of the War 
 period. 
 
 The stimulus of a bonus for increased effort may be un- 
 social and harmful in other ways. Organized labor has 
 strenuously opposed piece work, on the ground that the 
 ambitious worker was led to increase his own output, and 
 lose his sense of obligation to the other workers in the 
 trade. Too often the tendency of employers has been to use 
 the swift workman as a pace-maker, and speed up the rest 
 of the labor force to the point of exhaustion, at the same 
 time lowering the piece-rate. Part of the objection to 
 "Efficiency" is due to the memory of such injustice. When 
 properly installed, this system guards against exhaustion 
 by a study of the motions through which the task can be 
 
 * Congressional Record, 62nd Cong., Ist Session, 1911, p. 19Z9 if. 
 
 •Gantt states that "the additional amount needed to make men 
 do as much as they can depends upon how hard and disagreeable 
 the work is, and varies from 20 to 100 per cent." 
 
203 CHAOS OE COSMOS? 
 
 performed in a given time, without fatigue. On this the 
 bonus or differential piece-rate is based. The rate, once 
 determined, could not be cut without defeating the entire 
 scheme. But the worker has no guarantee that a cut will 
 not be attempted, by indirect methods. Nor can he be 
 sure that the time study has been accurate and unbiased, 
 unless he or his representative also holds a stop-watch, as 
 in the Men's Garment Agreement. 
 
 Scientific Management, as developed and applied by 
 Taylor and others, must rank as one of the great achieve- 
 ments of our age. It means the gradual rearrangement of 
 all the details of the productive process in the light of exact 
 study, the elimination of waste and lost motion, and the 
 consequent cheapening of production. Our concern here 
 is merely with the psychological effect of efficiency sys- 
 tems on the worker. The standardizing of industrial tasks, 
 through job analysis, motion study and the use of the stop- 
 watch, is in itself of great value to Labor, which will in 
 time accept it, as it accepts improved machinery. The 
 development of the worker into a perfect machine is not 
 necessarily harmful or distasteful. The athlete, as Gil- 
 breth says, is a perfect machine, and finds joy in his new 
 sense of power. Taylor's pig-iron handler, who learned to 
 load 47% tons of iron in a day instead of 12%, without 
 fatigue, may have had something of this feeling, besides 
 the extra 70 cents in his pocket. The chief objection to 
 Scientific Management, from the standpoint of Labor, is 
 that it tends to over-specialization, offers no encouragement 
 to initiative, and makes the worker merely an adjunct to 
 the machinery of the factory. In other words, the system 
 runs counter to human nature, with its diverse tempera- 
 ments, its spirit of democracy and collective action, and 
 its desire for the free play of other instincts besides the 
 love of gain.^^ 
 
 **R. F. Hoxie, Scientific Management and Labor, 1915; Clarence 
 B. Thompson, coll. of articles on Sci. Ma/nagement, 1914; Frederick 
 W. Taylor, Prints of Sci, Management^ 1911. 
 
ATTEMPTED EEMEDIES 203 
 
 One important advance that has come in the wake of 
 Scientific Management, is the taking of hiring and firing 
 out of the hands of the foremen, and assigning it to a spe- 
 cial Employment Department. The aim is to stabilize the 
 labor force, and reduce the expense of constantly breaking 
 in new workers, which in the average plant runs from $50 
 to $200 per man. With a large force this loss mounts to 
 tremendous proportions. Among the methods followed are 
 physical examination, careful selection, the fitting of the 
 worker to the job, investigation of all cases of discharge or 
 resignation, and the shifting of dissatisfied workers. The 
 results achieved bear witness to the importance of the 
 human factor in industry. The new profession of Employ- 
 ment Management, or Industrial Engineering as it is some- 
 times called, is developing standards and methods, and 
 considerable knowledge of practical psychology. Courtesy 
 and consideration have attained a new business value. The 
 initiative, enthusiasm and social responsibility of this 
 group, is matched only by the new profession of Safety 
 Engineering.^^ 
 
 The crux of the industrial problem, even in normal 
 times, is the fluctuation in business, and hence in the de- 
 mand for labor. Men are taken on or laid off as the market 
 ebbs and flows. Such a policy is expensive for the plant, 
 like all labor turnover. What unemployment or the fear 
 of unemployment means to the worker, only the worker 
 knows. In the past, factory policies have been determined 
 
 **See, from the economic standpoint, A. C. Pigou, Unemployment^ 
 1913. On the practical side: S. H. Slichter, Turnover of Factory 
 Labor, 1919; First National Conf. on Unemployment, Am. Labor 
 Legis. Rev., May, 1914; and the classic study of an English city by 
 B. Seebohm Rowntree and Bruno Lasker, Unemployment, 1911; Lee 
 K. Frankel and Alex. Fleisher, The Human Factor in Industry, 
 1920; Personnel and Employment Problems, Am. Acad, of Pol. and 
 Soc. Sci., 65, May, 1916; Daniel Bloomfield, Labor Maintenance, 
 1920; and coll. art's on Employment Mcurmgement, 1919; Roy W. 
 Kelly, Hiring the Work&r, 1918. Compulsory insurance in its 
 various aspects is well covered by I. M. Rubinow, Social Insurance, 
 1913; Proceedings of Conf, on 8oo. Ins., Bur. of Labor States, BuU. 
 212, 1917. 
 
204 CHAOS OE COSMOS? 
 
 largely by the sales force. To make employment continu- 
 ous it is necessary to have them determined by the produc- 
 tion department. Let me instance one group of plants 
 with which I am familiar, employing about 20,000 work- 
 ers. Instead of baiting the consuming public by new lines 
 of goods, the product is being standardized for steady 
 sales. Standardization also enables the company to shift 
 orders from one mill to another, thus helping each plant 
 to keep running to its normal capacity throughout the 
 year. This part of the business is in the hands of a well- 
 developed planning department. 
 
 The training of new workers has become a serious prob- 
 lem. With the break-down of the apprentice system, and 
 the splitting up of industrial operations so that less skilled 
 workers can handle them, we are in danger of losing the 
 old-time journeyman's sense of craftsmanship. In fact 
 this loss of a creative interest in the job is one of the chief 
 factors in the present industrial situation. 'New hands are 
 thrown into the plant to find their own way, and learn 
 their trade by watching the older operatives. The high 
 labor turnover in the first few weeks is a natural result. 
 To reduce this waste, and secure an adequate supply of 
 trained and interested workers, progressive plants are 
 introducing "vestibule schools," or training departments 
 as they are now generally called. The plan commonly fol- 
 lowed is to give the learners a general introduction to the 
 plant, explaining the policy of the company and the prin- 
 ciples of shop ethics, and then place them in a special train- 
 ing room under skilled instructors. They are paid a fair 
 weekly wage, often with a bonus for piece-work produc- 
 tion above a certain standard. The course varies from a 
 few days to eight weeks, according to the amount of skill 
 required. The Packard Motor Car Co., one of the pioneers 
 in the movement, uses one teacher to every six pupils in ele- 
 mentary instruction, and one to three for assembling and 
 machine work. Their aim is to give a good general train- 
 ing, and skill in operating various machines, thus adding 
 
ATTEMPTED REMEDIES 206 
 
 interest to the work and making the labor force more mo- 
 bile. Questions are encouraged. The learner is made to 
 feel from the start that he is a member of the organization 
 and not an outsider. Careful records are kept for each 
 pupil, and the instructors keep in touch with them after 
 they graduate into the shop. In such factories we usually 
 find a policy of promoting workers who prove themselves 
 efficient. 
 
 As a method of breaking in new workers, the training 
 department more than pays for itself, through the reduc- 
 tion in labor turnover, spoilage and accident. Old em- 
 ployees are often sent to the school for special training. 
 A certain large factory picked out, for comparative study, 
 a worker left to himself, and one sent to the training room. 
 The former stayed at his original level, while the latter 
 showed improvement after 7 days, and in 21 days doubled 
 his output. A new worker, after 4 days in a training de- 
 partment, was able to better the average production in the 
 factory. In one machine shop, inexperienced men, after 
 a few days training, were making a bonus of $7.50 on 
 piece work, as compared with $5.50 for old hands. The 
 effect on morale appears to be equally good. Replies re- 
 ceived from 16 training departments indicate that "it is 
 well to give as broad training as possible. Those who are 
 willing to spend the time and money to teach the learners 
 shop mathematics, use of precision instruments, drawing 
 and reading of blue prints, invariably report that it pays. 
 The more the employee knows the better worker and the 
 more contented he is. Industrial education of this sort is a 
 sound and practical investment." ^^ 
 
 Each year approximately one million children leave 
 school before the age of 18 to earn a living. The volun- 
 tary introduction of training departments can cover only a 
 fraction of the industrial field. Few plants are willing to 
 
 ^U. 8. Training Service, BulFs 12 and 13, 1919; H. E. Males, 
 Survey, 43, 700, March 6, 1920; Roy W. Kelly, Traming Induttrial 
 Workersy 1921. 
 
206 CHAOS OE COSMOS? 
 
 go to the expense of training workers, only to have a large 
 proportion of them enticed away by other factories that 
 have made no investment in their education. And the 
 tendency of many training departments is to turn out nar- 
 row specialists. Technical efficiency is cultivated, at the 
 expense of general intelligence, initiative and adaptability. 
 By the Smith-Hughes Law of 1917, the Federal Govern- 
 ment supplements grants made by the various states for 
 industrial education of a broad type. Up to the close of 
 1919, 19 states required employed minors under 16 (in 
 some cases 18) to attend part-time continuation schools 
 during the school term, the minimum requirement rang- 
 ing from 4 to 8 hours a week. The training is often given 
 in industrial plants, under public supervision.^^ 
 
 Two facts stand out from our study of these attempted 
 remedies for industrial war, in their successes and failures. 
 The first is the common interest of the two principal par- 
 ties to the work of production. 
 
 Orthodox Unionism and Marxian Socialism are perfectly 
 correct in stating that there is a class conflict between 
 capitalist and laborer over the distribution of the rewards. 
 There is a similar conflict within the ranks of labor itself, 
 as between skilled and unskilled workmen, or between one 
 skilled group and another. If a rise of wages for clothing 
 workers increases the labor cost, all other workers must 
 pay more for their clothing. The equitable distribution of 
 the rewards for production, is a problem which Society 
 may be expected to solve, after long experimenting. It is 
 becoming obvious to all thoughtful students of the subject 
 that goods must be produced before there are any rewards 
 to distribute. As Gantt says : "It is of course impossible 
 to pay permanently high wages unless a large amount of 
 work is done for those wages." From an entirely different 
 angle, we have the statement of Spargo : "The first great 
 
 "Fed. Board for Vocational Educ, Third Annual Report, 1919; 
 David S. Hill, Introd. to Vocational Educ, 1920; Albert H. Leake, 
 Indust. EduG., its Problems, Methods and Dangers, 1913; Helen 
 Marot, Creatvt>€ Impulse in Industry, 1918. 
 
ATTEMPTED EEMEDIES 207 
 
 task of any Socialist society must be to increase the pro- 
 ductivity of labor. ... If the working class of this or 
 any other country should take possession of the existing 
 organization of production, there would not be enough in 
 the fund now going to the capitalist class to satisfy the 
 requirements of the workers, even if not a penny of com- 
 pensation were paid to the expropriated owners." ^* 
 
 What our study has indicated is the benefit that has 
 tended to result to both employer and employee from the 
 improvement in conditions of labor and the increase of re- 
 ward, with a resulting rise in standard of living. One 
 cannot read Miss Tarbell's book on New Ideals in Business, 
 without a realizing sense that good treatment is good busi- 
 ness. The ideal of a recognized common interest in the 
 work of production has been eloquently expressed by King. 
 "Let Faith be substituted for Fear; let mutual considera- 
 tion and confidence supplant suspicion, and constructive 
 good-will replace resistance; let the parties to Industry 
 recognize a mutuality, not a conflict of interest, in all that 
 pertains to maximum production and equitable distribu- 
 tion of wealth ; and what is the result ? Immediately, fresh 
 energies are released, a new freedom is given to effort in 
 Industry. Productivity is increased, as are also the re- 
 spective rewards of all the parties." ^^ 
 
 The second fact suggested by our study helps to explain 
 the present difficulty in realizing this ideal. It is appar- 
 ent today, even more clearly than in the pre-War period, 
 that good treatment of labor may bring bad results. This 
 fact has mystified many employers. But it simply means 
 that there are psychological factors, the neglect of which 
 may vitiate the advantage of better working conditions and 
 larger rewards. The parties to Industry are individual 
 human beings, not machines. The employer is human. 
 His unconscious hypocrisy, his patronizing paternalism, 
 even his indigestion or domestic troubles, may affect the 
 
 ** John Spargo, Bolshevism, 1919, 287. 
 
 "W. L. M. King, Industry wnd Humanity^ 1918, 261. 
 
208 CHAOS OE COSMOS? 
 
 spirit of the entire plant. The foreman is human. A pig- 
 headed or bad-tempered or domineering overseer has been 
 known to undo the best-laid plans of the management. The 
 workman is very human. He has his own moods and 
 whims, his family or financial worries, his days of ner- 
 vousness and low vitality. He is filled with the traditions 
 and prejudices of his race, religion, class and trade. !N^o 
 two workmen are alike. One likes to work under strict 
 discipline, another resents authority. One man may en- 
 joy a monotonous task, where his mate, apparently with 
 no higher intelligence, is irritated by it. In different 
 groups of workmen, we find the same infinite permutations 
 of personality, complicated by racial mixtures and the 
 character of the group leadership. The proper handling of 
 industrial relations is indeed a fine art. 'No mechanical 
 scheme can be counted on to give specific results. 
 
 The most striking characteristic of the present-day 
 workman, particularly in the semi-skilled trades, would 
 seem to be his independence. The democratic spirit has 
 gripped him. He is no longer satisfied with mere freedom 
 of contract, or a cinch-hold on the rewards of production. 
 The recent situation in Industry has been thus interpreted 
 to me by an industrial relations manager, who had been 
 able to gain the worker's point of view through several 
 years of practical experience. Before the War, with the 
 surplus of labor and the fluctuating demands of Industry, 
 the dominant motive was fear. The workman was haunted 
 by the dread of losing his job. He did what he was told 
 to do, and speeded up his output, on pain of having his 
 place taken by another man. A type of foreman was 
 developed whose success was gauged by his ability to drive 
 the men under him. During the War, with the curtailment 
 of the labor supply and the demand of the ITation for in- 
 creased production, employers appealed to their men for 
 cooperation in the industry, on patriotic grounds. This 
 appeal met a somewhat general response. A large num- 
 ber of plants installed some plan of employees' represen- 
 
ATTEMPTED KEMEDIES 209 
 
 tation, of which I shall speak later. On the part of the 
 employers, however, this idea was not deep-seated ; it was 
 intended merely for a patriotic emergency. Most of them 
 proceeded to forget it, and hoped that their employees 
 would do the same. But the workmen did not forget. 
 They felt that they had been promised certain things, and 
 that these promises ought to be fulfilled. They had been 
 given a taste of democratic management, and refused to 
 go back to the old autocratic relations. With the con- 
 tinued labor shortage, they had lost their fear ; they could 
 no longer be driven. The result was seen in the general 
 industrial unrest, and, more specifically, in lowered out- 
 put, irregularity in reporting for work, and the tremen- 
 dous increase in the labor turnover, the proportion of new 
 men hired reaching in some plants as high as 1,000 per cent 
 a year. 
 
 How far this free and democratic spirit will evaporate 
 under changed economic conditions, no one can predict. 
 The fear of unemployment is again enforcing discipline 
 and increasing output. But a man's experience of democ- 
 racy is like a ratcheted wheel, which goes forward but can- 
 no*- go backward. I am inclined to think that what Hen- 
 derson wrote six years ago is even more true today. "The 
 modern workman never can be morally content and satis- 
 fied as long as his mind, will and voice count for nothing in 
 the direction of the industry and its product. He may not 
 yet be adequately prepared for that responsibility ; his am- 
 bition may outrun his education, but he is looking forward 
 to it, and he chafes while he waits." ^^ 
 
 Our study has shown that the motive of acquisitiveness 
 cannot be utilized beyond a certain point for the stimula- 
 tion of output. There are other important instincts, how- 
 ever, which modem Industry has tended to overlook or sup- 
 press. Increasing specialization has left little scope for 
 
 "Chas. R. Henderson, Citizens in Industry, 1915, xv. Cf. Report 
 of President's Indust. Conf., 1920 ; Wm. R. Basset, When the Worker 
 Helps You Manage, 1919; Meyer Bloomfield, Survey, 28, 312, 
 1912. 
 
210 CHAOS OE COSMOS? 
 
 the creative instinct, the craftsman's joy in the finished 
 product. There seems to be no possibility of going back 
 to the old system, where the worker in a shoe factory, for 
 example, made a complete shoe. To secure a general re- 
 vival of the spirit of craftsmanship, two lines are being 
 followed. The first is educational. Much may be hoped 
 for from the modem movement for vocational training, 
 of which I have already spoken. The second line of ap- 
 proach is the development of a worker's interest in the in- 
 dustry through some measure of democratic control. We 
 all find greater joy in work when we feel a sense of part- 
 nership in the process, or ownership in the product. "The 
 kitchen-maid may very easily find the dish washing a 
 drudge's task, while the housewife does not so consider it. 
 The difference lies in the interest of the worker in the 
 household as a member of it." ^"^ The same psychological 
 fact is likely to be true in Industry. Democratic control 
 allows scope for the instinct of self-assertion, and for the 
 herd instinct, which leads men to act together and follow 
 the leadership they have themselves helped to create. Ex- 
 periments along this line will occupy our attention in the 
 next chapter. 
 
 "Fred H. Colvin, Labor Turnover, Loyalty and Output, 1919, 25. 
 See also Ordway Tead, Instincts in Industry, 1918, an invaluable 
 book for the student of industrial relations. 
 
XIX. 
 
 DEMOCRACY IN INDUSTRY. 
 
 From the standpoint of Society as a whole, our elaborate 
 industrial organization is not for the sake of profits or 
 wages, but rather for the production of community goods 
 and the development of complete men. A system which 
 fell far short of the possibilities of production, or which 
 dwarfed the many for the sake of the few, must be re- 
 garded as a social failure. And social failure is cosmic 
 maladjustment, a lack of harmony with the fundamental 
 conditions of the Universe. There are therefore two gen- 
 eral criteria for the success of an industrial policy: its 
 ability to maintain the highest quantity and quality of pro- 
 duction, or whatever public service is to be performed, 
 and its physical and moral effect on the men engaged 
 in it. The two are closely related. To obtain a high out- 
 put from the worker, as we have seen, it is necessary to 
 secure, not only proper working and housing conditions, 
 but the free expression of those instincts which lead work- 
 men to do their best work. These factors in turn aid the 
 full development of personality. It is in his daily task 
 that a man normally finds his life and maintains his self- 
 respect.^ 
 
 In this chapter I shall outline some of the experiments 
 that have been made along the line of industrial democ- 
 racy. They will indicate the results which may be ex- 
 pected from the stimulation of other human motives, in 
 addition to those involved in financial rewards.^ The fol- 
 
 *See Whiting Williams, Whafs on the Workers' Mind, 1920, 
 chap. 12. 
 
 ^See ante p. 209. 
 
 211 
 
212 CHAOS OR COSMOS? 
 
 lowing examples are chosen to illustrate various types of 
 cooperation. 
 
 The Endicott-Johnson factories, near Binghamton, 
 N. Y., the largest shoe manufacturers in the United States, 
 have often been cited as an ideal of industrial relations. 
 The owners grew up with the shoe and leather business, 
 and Geo. F. Johnson, to whom the labor policy is largely 
 due, started life as a shoemaker. About 13,000 workers 
 were employed. In over 36 years there had been no sus- 
 picion of labor trouble. Labor leaders who visited the 
 plant made no attempt to organize the workers, stating 
 that the company was doing for its help what the unions 
 were trying to do. The workers were well paid. Every- 
 thing possible was done for their comfort and enjoyment, 
 and that of their families. They had absolute confidence 
 in the management, which was constantly striving to un- 
 derstand their point of view. There were no formal shop 
 committees. Every employee knew that he could go di- 
 rectly to the general manager, if he felt that injustice was 
 being done. The employers and employees sent their chil- 
 dren to the same schools, attended the same churches, and 
 were interested in the same sports. The policy of the com- 
 pany was to fill no important position outside of its own 
 ranks, and the door of promotion was always open. The 
 workers were encouraged to make suggestions for improve- 
 ing the business ; one laborer was paid $5,000 in cash for 
 a valuable idea. Profit sharing was introduced at the be- 
 ginning of 1920, not as an incentive, but as a logical out- 
 come of the mutuality of interest.^ 
 
 It is obvious that such close personal relationships are 
 impossible in the average corporation of the present day, 
 whose managers have received their training in business 
 rather than in the industrial process itself. I have given 
 this example, partly for its historical interest, as illustrat- 
 ing the survival in a large modern plant of the old time re- 
 
 •The ideals of the owners are described in Red Cross Mag., Dec, 
 1919; System, Jan., 1920; Outlook, Apr. 14, 1920. 
 
DEMOCRACY IN INDUSTEY 213 
 
 lations of master and men ; partly because it suggests the 
 spirit of fair dealing and sympathetic understanding which 
 lies at the basis of successful labor management. Many 
 corporations are requiring their future superintendents 
 and staff officers to spend weeks or even months at the 
 bench, in order to gain the point of view of the man with 
 the dinner pail. 
 
 Another ideal, showing what may be accomplished by 
 arousing interest in productive processes, is found in the 
 work of Kobert B. Wolf with the sulphite pulp plant of 
 the Burgess Co., at Berlin, JST. H. In six years time, an 
 annual output of 42,000 tons of the lowest quality was 
 changed to 111,000 tons of the highest quality. "His first 
 step was the working out of scientific standards for the 
 tasks. To begin with, for example, there were nine men 
 engaged in the important process of cooking the pulp. 
 Each man cooked by his own rule-of -thumb method, and 
 the result was nine different kinds of pulp, of varying de- 
 grees of badness. There was on the staff of the plant a 
 chemist, whose function was to make certain stereotyped 
 tests. Mr. Wolf proceeded to make work interesting for 
 the chemist by putting him at the job of improving the 
 quality of the pulp. For a long time he studied the cook- 
 ing process, and through the cooperation of the workmen 
 who did the cooking he accumulated a large amount of 
 technical data. At length, by the use of this data, and 
 again with the help of the workmen, a combination of 
 variables, temperature, pressure, cooking-time, etc., was 
 worked out which produced good pulp. A chart was plot- 
 ted which showed graphically the different factors in the 
 ^deaF cooking process. The cookers readily grasped this 
 chart, and they were then able to compare their own per- 
 formance with the chart and gradually to make their ef- 
 forts approximate the standard. . . . Progress records, 
 either for individuals or groups, were worked out to affect 
 almost every one of the twelve or thirteen hundred men in 
 the mill. It is interesting to know that this scheme was 
 
214 CHAOS OE COSMOS? 
 
 first hit upon by accident Mr. Wolf planned a bonus sys- 
 tem, and when this was turned down by the owners of the 
 plant he conceived the idea of posting the records from 
 which the bonuses would have been paid. As an improve- 
 ment on purely quantity records quality records were 
 evolved, and it was found that certain hard feelings engen- 
 dered by quantity competition disappeared and that a 
 spirit of intelligent cooperation among the men took its 
 place. To improve their own work men made suggestions 
 for improving operating conditions, which eventually re- 
 sulted in the redesigning of most of the apparatus. Then 
 one day a workman said, ^We don't know what things 
 cost ; if we knew we could save materials.' The result was 
 that cost sheets, which had first been given only to heads 
 of departments, were given to each foreman and through 
 him to the men. Foremen got into the habit of figuring 
 estimates on the cost of their work, and then trying to beat 
 their own estimates. Some of the workmen would bring 
 scales into the mill to weigh the material delivered to them, 
 to make sure the storehouse was not beating them on the 
 material charged against the job. The net result was the 
 cutting in two of the maintenance material cost, with a 
 saving of $20,000 a month." In Mr. Wolf's words : "Our 
 men were well paid, better paid than those in any similar 
 plant in the country, because they earned it. But the pay- 
 ment was entirely on a weekly and hourly basis." Men 
 frequently said to him: "We don't like to be bribed to 
 do a good job. We would like to have the privilege of 
 doing a good job without being baited to do it." Similar 
 plans carried out in a group of Canadian plants, had the 
 hearty support of the union. John P. Burke, president 
 of the International Brotherhood of Pulp, Sulphite and 
 Paper Mill Workers, says: "Four years ago I worked in 
 the mill. I know what it is to go through the same deaden- 
 ing motions hour after hour and day after day. When 
 that work was made interesting it was as much of a bene- 
 fit to the workers as taking four hours off the workday. 
 
DEMOCRACY IN INDUSTRY 215 
 
 When Mr. Wolf explained to the local union what he pro- 
 posed to do, and when we were satisfied that he had no ul- 
 terior motives, we cooperated with him, hecause the labor 
 movement believes in progress, not in stagnation." * 
 
 The plan of industrial cooperation inaugurated by the 
 Colorado Fuel and Iron Co., at the close of the strike de- 
 scribed in a previous chapter, was a compromise between 
 the system of individual bargaining previously in force, 
 and recognition of the miners' union, which the company 
 had persistently refused. John D. Kockefeller, Jr. made 
 B. personal visit to Colorado, meeting the miners in their 
 homes. He said to them : "They tell you that we are ene- 
 mies. I have come here to tell you that we are not ene- 
 mies, but partners. Labor and Capital are partners, not 
 enemies. Neither one can get on without the other. Their 
 interests are common, not antagonistic." The idea of Mr. 
 King had been to devise some machinery which would not 
 only prevent labor from being exploited, but secure the 
 cordial cooperation which would further industrial effi- 
 ciency. A system of representative government was 
 worked out, with joint committees for each district, and 
 for the industry as a whole. An Employees' Bill of 
 Eights assured strict compliance with federal and state 
 laws, the posting at each mine of the wage scale and work- 
 ing conditions, the right of assemblage, and of membership 
 or non-membership without discrimination in any union. 
 Grievances were to be investigated. An appeal could be 
 taken to the officers of the company, and from these to the 
 State Commission, whose findings were to be regarded as 
 binding on both parties. The plan was submitted to the 
 men, and adopted by a majority of 84 per cent of the votes 
 cast. It is interesting to note that the constitution was 
 printed in seven languages.^ 
 
 * Survey, 44, 112, Apr. 17, 1920. See also Wolf's paper on Non- 
 Financial Incentives, Am. Soc. of Mechan. Engineers, Dec, 1918. 
 
 °W. L. M. King, Industry and Humanity, 1918, 434 ff.; Commis. 
 on Indust. ReVs, 1916, 9, 8449 //.; J. D. Rockefeller, Jr., The Colo- 
 rado Indust. Plan, 1916. 
 
216 CHAOS OR COSMOS? 
 
 There can be no question that this plan was offered by 
 the company in good faith, and represented a radical 
 change in policy. Many of the worst evils were corrected. 
 The mine foreman was shorn of some of his arbitrary 
 power. Cooperation between the representatives of em- 
 ployers and employees secured a great improvement in con- 
 ditions of labor and housing. The men, however, appear 
 to have resented it as an attempt to forestall their own 
 democratic plan of representation through the union. They 
 took little interest in the elections, and made almost no use 
 of the machinery for presenting grievances.^ Those famil- 
 iar with the situation were not surprised to learn of another 
 strike in the Fall of 1921, following a 30 per cent reduction 
 in wages. The statement of the company's counsel, on "Noy, 
 17, is highly significant, in the light of previous history: 
 "We will let the mines remain idle if the men go out until 
 such time as they are ready to report back for work. The 
 Colorado Fuel and Iron Company, contrary to current re- 
 ports, will not import one strike breaker. If any need 
 arises for protection of our property we will look to the 
 State to provide it. We will not employ one additional 
 watchman and we refuse to admit there will be any need 
 for mine guards." 
 
 An associate of the C. F. and I. in the strike of 1913, 
 the Victor American Fuel Co., was forced by labor condi- 
 tions to reverse its attitude toward organized labor, and 
 make a contract with the United Mine Workers. This 
 Agreement will serve as well as any to illustrate the col- 
 lective bargaining carried out for many years in a large 
 section of American industry, by what Hoxie calls the 
 "business type" of labor union. It covers 17 companies in 
 Colorado, and 26 mines, for each of which the piece and 
 times rates are minutely specified. "In the interest of 
 good and efficient service," the contract reads, "the Union 
 
 • John A. Fitch, Two Tears of the Rockefeller Plan, Survey, 39, 14, 
 Oct. 6, 1917. See also comment by J. E. Williams, id., 35, 145, 
 Nov. 6, 1915. 
 
DEMOCRACY IN INDUSTRY 217 
 
 agrees to promote and encourage a feeling of friendliness, 
 cooperation and contentment at the mines of the Company 
 in order that there shall be no violation of the contract; 
 and to use all the power and influence of the Union, its 
 ^National, District and Local Officers to see that not only 
 the letter but the spirit of this contract shall be obeyed. 
 Violations of the contract, such as have occurred in the 
 past,*^ will not be tolerated, and those responsible for agi- 
 tating violations or other trouble will be punished accord- 
 ing to the provisions of the laws of the Union, the intention 
 being that the mines of the Company may operate prosper- 
 ously and without interruption at the highest possible pro- 
 duction with competent industrious workmen." Simple 
 machinery is provided for the adjustment of grievances, 
 the base of the system being the Pit Committee and the 
 Mine Foreman, and the apex an umpire selected by the 
 Presidents of the company and of the United Mine Work- 
 ers, whose decision is final. No strikes are allowed for 
 any reason, members violating this rule having $2.00 per 
 day deducted from their earnings. The company is to be 
 fined for a lockout, at the rate of $2.00 per day for each 
 employee affected. Any employee who absents himself 
 from duty for two days or more, or who persists in work- 
 ing irregularly, forfeits his position. The company is 
 to compensate any miner unjustly discharged. Other sec- 
 tions provide full regulations to cover such matters as tim- 
 bering, docking, checkweighman, etc. The union dues are 
 to be collected by the company, as a deduction from the pay 
 roll. This standardizing of industrial relations is possible 
 only with a strong and national Trade Union. Many em- 
 ployers prefer to negotiate with a union agent rather than 
 with their own men, as he has a knowledge of the industry 
 as a whole and is free from local bias. 
 
 The plan of Shop Committees or Works Councils, was 
 given great impetus by the War Labor Board. Up to the 
 
 ' This refers to the previous Agreement, renewed for two yean 
 on April 1, 1920. 
 
218 CHAOS OE COSMOS? 
 
 middle of 1919, over 200 plants, with 500,000 workers, 
 were known to have installed some form of employees' rep- 
 resentation.^ These ranged from mere discussion clubs, up 
 to the representative government of the Filene store in 
 Boston, or the Procter and Gamble Co., with the employees 
 participating as stockholders and represented on the Board 
 of Directors. The success of the movement has been 
 equally various. Where honestly and carefully installed, 
 with the approval of the workers themselves, the plan has 
 tended to bring mutual understanding and harmony. It 
 cannot safely be used as a substitute for the labor union, 
 if the men strongly desire a union. In many cases re- 
 markable results have been achieved, often in connection 
 with some form of profit-sharing. I select an example 
 which has been in operation for a decade. 
 
 In 1910, the Philadelphia Kapid Transit Co. was on the 
 verge of collapse. "No dividends had been paid for eight 
 years. Equipment was in shocking condition, and service 
 demoralized. Two recent strikes, resulting in rioting and 
 bloodshed, had cost the company and the city millions of 
 dollars, while the* men had lost more than half a million in 
 wages alone. Another strike was brewing. E. T. Stotes- 
 bury was persuaded to assume the direction of the com- 
 pany, as a civic duty, and money found for the purchase 
 of modem cars. The new management took hold with 
 the understanding that in five years' time it would provide 
 the public with an adequate system of transportation, and 
 the men with such increased wages and improved working 
 conditions as cooperation might make possible: stock- 
 holders must wait for returns until these two questions had 
 been disposed of. The plan of industrial relations was 
 worked out by Thomas E. Mitten, chairman of the execu- 
 tive committee, on the basis of his previous experience in 
 
 'Nat. Indust. Conf. Board, Works Councils in the U. 8., 1919; 
 New Jersey Bureau of State Research, Shop Committees and Indust. 
 Councils, 1919; Wm. L. Stoddard, The Shop Com., 1919; John 
 Leitch, Man to Man, 1919; Ordway Tead and Henry C. Metcalf, 
 Personnel Administration, 1920. 
 
DEMOCRACY IN INDUSTEY 219 
 
 Chicago. Finding that about 22% of the gross passenger 
 receipts were being used in the payment of wages and sick 
 benefits, Mr. Mitten had this percentage set aside as a fund 
 from which the men would receive their compensation. 
 Any increase in receipts, due to larger cars and improved 
 routing, or to greater promptness, honesty or courtesy on 
 the part of the employees, would mean larger wages to the 
 men. The actual disposition of this fund was put in the 
 hands of the cooperative committee, made up of two motor- 
 men or conductors elected by secret ballot in each of the 
 car bams, or divisions. These two representatives ar- 
 ranged the runs made from the barn, acted as a grievance 
 committee for the men, and cooperated with the company 
 in the matter of discipline. Once a month the committee 
 met as a whole, the company being represented (without 
 vote) by the division superintendents. Among the matters 
 taken up were new routings and time-tables proposed by 
 the company, the more important cases of grievance, the 
 management of the cooperative benefit and purchasing 
 plans operated by the men, and the wage scale which would 
 be justified by the condition of the 22% fund. In carry- 
 ing out the plan the company dealt with the men as indir 
 viduals, divisions among the employees making it impos^ 
 sible for Mr. Mitten to deal directly with the union as he 
 had done in Chicago. The understanding was that the 
 latter plan would be followed whenever two-thirds of the 
 men so voted. 
 
 Two strikes were attempted, but caused no serious inter- 
 ruption to service. The second, in 1918, was investigated 
 by the War Labor Board, which dismissed the complaint. 
 On the advice of this body, the 22% wage fund was abol- 
 ished, in order to bring wages up to the current scale. 
 Other modifications were made at this time. The cooper- 
 ative plan was extended to all departments of the company, 
 joint committees taking the place of the former commit- 
 tees of employees. In cases of controversy, representatives 
 of employer and 'employees were to vote separately, by 
 
220 CHAOS OR COSMOS? 
 
 secret ballot. Final settlement was vested in a Board of 
 Arbitration. 
 
 The results of the Stotesbury-Mitten plan were very re- 
 markable. In the first three years, resignations were re- 
 duced from 1,390 to 337, and dismissals from 1 in 6 to 1 
 in 20. The average wage of conductors and motormen was 
 increased from 23 cents an hour in 1911 to 31 cents in 
 1916, 43 cents in July, 1918, and 58 cents in 1919. The 
 gross earnings of the company increased 89%. The rate 
 of fare for the public had not been raised. The average 
 rides per capita in Philadelphia increased from 288 in 
 1910 to over 425 in 1919. In other words, an increase in 
 wages of 150% had been matched by 120% increase in 
 production. The number of accidents was cut in half. 
 The employees developed into what Mr. Mitten has called 
 "the most courteous, careful, and efficient body of motor- 
 men and conductors in America." Of a force of about 
 10,000, over 99% were members of the Cooperative Wel- 
 fare Association, which furnished a blanket life insurance 
 policy of $1,000 at a cost of $1.00 per month, in addition 
 to sick benefits and pensions.^ 
 
 In the Government Arsenals, the signing of the Armis- 
 tice threatened a serious reduction of business and em- 
 ployment. Permission was given by the Secretary of 
 War for the arsenals to bid on the peace-time require- 
 ments of the government departments, in competition with 
 private concerns. The shop committees which had been 
 already introduced, with the backing of the unions, began 
 to take on new and interesting functions. When a proposal 
 for a bid is received by an arsenal, "the employees' com- 
 mitteemen become immediately active. First, it is decided 
 by the central committee whether its arsenal can manufac- 
 ture the article upon which bids are sought. Manifestly it 
 is to the employee's interest to get the work for his particu- 
 lar arsenal, since the tenure of his employment depends 
 
 *Commi88. on Indust. ReVs, 1916, 3, 2733 ^; The Cooperative 
 Plan of the P. R. T., 1918; Year Booh, 1919. 
 
DEMOCRACY IN INDUSTRY 221 
 
 upon securing enough work to prevent further reduction 
 in the arsenal force. The tendency of the commanding 
 officer of the arsenal is naturally and properly toward con- 
 servatism ; if the proposal is for work rather aside from the 
 usual lines of manufacture in his arsenal, he inclines to 
 play safe ; that is, either not to bid, or to bid fairly high 
 to avoid loss. The employees incline to bid low to get the 
 work done and hold their jobs. The result actually reached 
 is that the employees investigate with great care the possi- 
 bilities of economic manufacture of the particular article 
 being considered. The best men on each process which 
 will be involved if the contract is secured are consulted, 
 and, in effect, the combined experience and resourceful- 
 ness of the employees is massed on the problem. Re- 
 peatedly the estimates of the employees on labor costs have 
 been so low as to give pause to the commanding officer and 
 the planning department, which advises him. The em- 
 ployees then are put in the position of definite responsi- 
 bility for their own estimates of the performance which 
 they can deliver. They virtually guarantee the estimates as 
 to direct labor costs — in fact, in at least one instance the 
 employees were required by the ordinance officer in charge 
 of the shop to guarantee in writing to meet an estimate 
 which they had made and which he believed to be too 
 low. Not an instance has occurred thus far in which the 
 employees have not held labor cost below their estimate." 
 With the change in function of the workers' organization, 
 has come a change in the character of the union leadership, 
 good fighters giving place to men with ability as produc- 
 tive workmen. ^^ 
 
 In September, 1910, a Protocol or treaty of peace was 
 signed in the Ladies' Garment Industry in New York 
 City, after many years of warfare and a general strike of 
 unusual bitterness. The contracting parties were the 
 Cloak, Suit and Skirt Manufacturers' Protective Associ- 
 ation, and certain locals of the International Ladies' Gar- 
 
 " Industrial Democ. at Rock Island, Nation, Sept. 13, 1919. 
 
222 CHAOS OE COSMOS? 
 
 ment Workers' Union. As the union had insisted on a 
 closed shop and the employers on an open shop, Mr. Bran- 
 deis' suggestion of a preferential shop was made the basis 
 of compromise. Under this arrangement, "the employer is 
 bound to maintain union standards as to hours, etc., and 
 to give the preference in employing and retaining help to 
 union members. On their side the unions are bound to 
 maintain discipline in the shop among their members, to 
 restrain them from breaches of contract and unauthorized 
 strikes, and to see that they live up to the conditions of the 
 Protocol; in other words, in return for the preference 
 shown them, the unions assume full responsibility for the 
 conduct of their members." ^^ Subcontracting within the 
 shop and the taking of work home were forbidden, thus 
 doing away with the sweatshop and the tenement worker. 
 Minor abuses in shop practice were corrected, a minimum 
 wage-scale established, and a 50-hour week. Strikes and 
 lockouts were prohibited during the life of the treaty, for 
 which there was no time limit. 
 
 Three joint bodies were set up by the Protocol. The 
 Board of Sanitary Control was to establish standards for 
 the industry. Because of the character of its personnel, 
 and the efficiency of the director. Dr. Geo. M. Price, its 
 work was remarkably efficient. A systematic inspection of 
 the 1,243 shops in 'New York City, showed that about two- 
 thirds were defective either in sanitation, fire protection, 
 or both. At the end of six months, only 54 of these re- 
 mained unimproved. Under the terms of the agreement, 
 no member of the union would work in a shop declared 
 unsanitary, and no manufacturer would give out work for 
 this shop to do. The erring employer either complied with 
 the recommendations of the Board, or was forced out of 
 business. Twenty-seven such "sanitary strikes" occurred 
 within the first year. Thus both the worker and the em- 
 
 " Chas. H. Winslow, Bur. of Labor Statistics, Bull 98, 1912, 203. 
 See also Bull's 144 and 145, 1914; Monthly Review, Dec, 1917, 19; 
 Julius H. Cohen, Law and Order in Industry, 1916. 
 
DEMOCRACY IN INDUSTRY 223 
 
 ployer were protected against the cut-throat competition 
 of unscnipulous firms. 
 
 The Board of Arbitration, made up of such distin- 
 guished names as Louis D. Brandeis, Hamilton Holt and 
 Morris Hillquit, acted as a court of appeal, chiefly confin- 
 ing itself, however, to differences which arose between the 
 manufacturers' association and the union. The Board of 
 Grievances, consisting of five members from each side, 
 served as a trade court. Of the 1,004 cases adjusted in 
 the first year, Y98 were settled by the deputy clerks, act- 
 ing as a joint mediation committee, 202 by the Board it- 
 self, and 4 appealed to the Board of Arbitration. 
 
 The weakness of the system, as events proved, lay in 
 the bi-partisan character of the trade court, and the lack 
 of any body of law on which to base its decisions. The ma- 
 chinery broke down after five years, ostensibly on the issue 
 of the employer's right to discharge competent union work- 
 men, but actually because of impatience on both sides with 
 the moderate progress made in raising business standards 
 and conditions. 
 
 The attempt to introduce a constitution into the industry 
 was not lost. Collective bargaining continued in the 
 Cloak and Suit trade, under various forms of agreement. 
 The Protocol idea had been adopted by other branches of 
 the Ladies' Garment industry, in most of which it is still 
 in force. Robert W. Bruere, who acted on the Board of 
 Arbitration in the Waist and Dress group, has given inter- 
 esting testimony as to the effect of industrial parliaments. 
 Discussion, and adjustment on the basis of evidence, was 
 substituted for strikes and lockouts, which until a few 
 years ago kept the largest of our clothing industries in a 
 state of perpetual turmoil. "I have seen employers and 
 workers come together in the meetings of wage boards, 
 tense with bitterness and hostility. I have heard them 
 wrangle for hours over charges of bad faith and have 
 seen them grow calm and reasonable as the questioning of 
 the chairman brought out the facts on both sides and de- 
 
324 CHAOS OE COSMOS? 
 
 veloped the basis for an understanding. Often both sides 
 will show an unexpected readiness to subordinate what 
 they had considered their absolute rights in the premises 
 to the larger interests of the industry, and to recognize 
 themselves and one another, not so much as enemies fight- 
 ing for a stake, but as industrial citizens with a common 
 interest in the prosperity of the trade and a common re- 
 sponsibility to the public." ^^ 
 
 A parallel movement took place in the Men's Garment 
 trade. It began with the Hart, Schaffner and Marx agree- 
 ment, which has had a continuous life since February, 
 1911, with modifications and improvements, but without 
 any serious break. The plan has since been adopted by 
 other shops, and by clothing centers outside of Chicago.^* 
 This firm, which employs about 6,500 workers, is now 
 governed by the principle of the preferential union shop, 
 a large proportion of the employees being members of the 
 union. Each floor of their factories, containing from 100 
 to 200 workers, has a shop chairman, elected by the union 
 members. He is recognized as an officer of the union, in 
 charge of complaints and organization matters within the 
 shop. Complaints are first taken up by the shop chairman 
 with the foreman or superintendent. If no satisfaction ia 
 obtained, the case is reported to the union, which employs 
 four deputies, or business agents, one for each trade (coats, 
 vests, trousers and cutting.) The proper deputy, after 
 making an investigation, takes up the matter with the 
 firm's labor manager, a university professor trained in 
 Economics and given very broad powers. He is in charge 
 of Health and Safety, Education, Employment, Disci- 
 pline, and Wages and Eate Setting. He acts as the diplo- 
 matic agent of the firm in all matters involving the labor 
 force. Rates for piece work are set by a committee of 
 
 ^Mecmitiff of the Minimum Wage, Harpers Mag., 132, 282, Jan., 
 1916. 
 
 "Bur. of Labor Statistics, Bull. 198, 1916; New Jersey Bur. of 
 State Research, Shop Corn's and Jndttst. Counoils, July, 1&19, pp. 
 28, 34, 52. 
 
DEMOCEACY IN INDUSTRY 225 
 
 three, one representing each side and a third member whom 
 they select. Cases where the piece-rate committee, or the 
 deputy and labor manager, fail to agree, are carried to the 
 Trade Board of the Chicago clothing industry. This 
 Board consists of an impartial chairman, and of ^ve repre- 
 sentatives of each side, who practically argue the case be- 
 fore him. The impartial chairman, paid jointly by the 
 manufacturers and the union, is a man of the highest char- 
 acter, chosen for his business acumen and diplomatic skill. 
 The firm's records as to costs, profits, etc., are placed at 
 his disposal, and his decisions are usually final. A Board 
 of Arbitration is added, for questions involving the inter- 
 pretation of the agreement. Back of the entire plan, on 
 paper and in practice, is the idea of cooperation in pro- 
 duction, and a community of interest. 
 
 By the middle of 1919, this form of collective bargain- 
 ing had come to include practically the entire industry. A 
 national agreement between the manufacturers' associa- 
 tion and the Amalgamated Clothing Workers was in pros- 
 pect. Makers of high-grade clothing found the stabiliz- 
 ing of labor and improvement of working conditions a 
 great advantage. But the small amount of capital required 
 in the business, the growth of subcontracting, and the sup- 
 ply of immigrant workers available in normal times, make 
 it diflScult for either the employers or the union to control 
 the smaller shops. Conditions in the N"ew York market 
 have been particularly chaotic. 
 
 The unions in the needle trades, which we have been 
 describing, are organized on industrial rather than craft 
 lines. They are extremely democratic, and characterized 
 by Socialism of a radical but idealistic type. They form, 
 as has been said, "a spiritual brotherhood, based upon a 
 common aspiration." ^* Their attitude towards the cloth- 
 ing industry is that of future proprietors, rather than 
 mere hired men. Efficiency methods, for example, at 
 which the old unionist looks askance, are cordially accepted. 
 
 *• J. M. Budish and Gl€o. Soule, The New Unionism, 1920, 157. 
 
226 CHAOS OE COSMOS? 
 
 Their remarkable educational program aims at a broad cul- 
 ture and tbe mental emancipation of the working class, 
 so that they may be made ready to assume control of pro- 
 duction. As one observer has said : "The chief struggle of 
 the far-sighted leadership among the Amalgamated Cloth- 
 ing Workers is to keep in line the impatient extremists who 
 are not satisfied with steady growth, but want the mil- 
 lennium by tomorrow afternoon." ^^ What interests us here 
 is the view of the new unionism that industry, even in its 
 present stage, is a form of community service. The con- 
 vention of 1920 put itself in line with the old-time crafts- 
 men by declaring for definite standards of production, in 
 connection with the policy of payment by the week rather 
 than by the piece. In the course of the debate, Pres. Sid- 
 ney Hillman, who might be termed the father both of the 
 Hart, Schaffner and Marx agreement and of the Amalga- 
 mated Clothing Workers, said: "For myself, I do not 
 think that our union can adopt the ordinary rule of com- 
 merce, the principle of the business man, which is to give 
 as little as possible and to take as much as possible. We 
 must have a different attitude toward the industry. We 
 must accept responsibility for production. We cannot 
 have sabotage by withholding production : we cannot have 
 loafing; we must have production and we must recognize 
 our responsibility." ^* In the agreement drawn up be- 
 tween four silk ribbon manufacturers in !N"ew York, and 
 weavers affiliated with the new Amalgamated Textile 
 Workers, which grew out of the second Lawrence strike, 
 we find this statement : "Public interest requires increas- 
 ing production as a prime factor in reducing commodity 
 prices. Wages, hours and working conditions should be 
 regulated by this requirement." ^"^ 
 
 All of these plans for cooperation in American industry 
 are confessedly experimental. Most of them have yet to 
 
 "Baker, New Industrial Urvresf, 1920, 197. 
 " Swrvey, 44, 275, May 22, 1920. 
 "/<Z., 44, 233, May 15, 1920. 
 
DEMOCKACY IN INDUSTEY 227 
 
 be tested in a period of labor surplus and decreasing wages. 
 The factor of personal temperament and prejudice enters, 
 as in all human relations. "Employee representation," 
 as the Industrial Conference said, "offers no royal road to 
 industrial peace." But the movement outlined in this 
 chapter shows that goodwill is as important an element in 
 Industry as we have seen it to be in Trade. As Commons 
 puts it : "The laborer is not only a productive machine, he 
 is a customer. The employer is not only buying his time 
 or his product, but is also selling to him a job where he 
 can earn a living. The employer makes a certain invest- 
 ment on behalf of every customer and every employee. He 
 furnishes something in exchange, and he not only wants 
 that customer or worker to return, satisfied with his treat- 
 ment, but also to spread the word and bring others. Good- 
 will is good reputation, and reputation is the collective 
 opinion of those whose patronage is desired. ... So indus- 
 trial goodwill is a valuable .asset like commercial goodwill 
 and good credit, and becomes so, more and more, in pro- 
 portion as laborers acquire more liberty, power, intelli- 
 gence and more inclination to assert their liberties. It too 
 is valuable because it brings larger profits and lifts the 
 employer somewhat above the level of competing employers 
 by giving him a more productive labor force than theirs in 
 proportion to the wages paid. And this larger profit re- 
 flects itself in the larger value of stocks and bonds, the 
 higher capitalization of the going business." ^^ 
 
 What the future will bring in the way of economic and 
 social reorganization, we do not know. All our theories 
 and programs are tentative and must be continually re- 
 vised. Fortunately I am not called on in this book to at- 
 tempt the ambitious and dangerous work of prediction. 
 'Not have I attempted to settle any specific industrial 
 problems. I have a keen personal interest in these problems 
 and their solution. But our attitude, as I stated at the 
 beginning of this Section, is the open-mindedness of the 
 
 "•John R. Commons, Industrial Goodwill, 1919, 18, 26. 
 
228 CHAOS OR COSMOS? 
 
 scientific investigator, rather than the opportunism of 
 the judge, who is obliged to render a decision on every 
 question, whether the evidence is ample or not. 
 
 Our concern is with the nature of the Universe in which 
 we live, and the conditions of successful adjustment. The 
 idea I have tried to bring out is that the fundamental 
 problem of Industry is the problem of human behavior. 
 We are dealing with men and women, whose conduct is 
 very largely determined by certain inherited instincts as 
 motives of action. IN'o solution can be final which fails 
 to give these instincts full expression. 
 
 "We hear much," says Tead, "of 'humanizing' our in- 
 dustrial system. What is involved in this is nothing more 
 nor less than a discovery of personalities, a knowledge of 
 their human natures, and an effort to give those natures a 
 chance. . . . The individual is now seen as a compact 
 of ascertainable impulses, who acts as he does because 
 known forces, external and internal, are at work to influ- 
 ence his behavior. . . . The conduct of groups in industry, 
 like that of individuals, is also to be more readily under- 
 stood when we know even a little about the moving energies 
 out of which it proceeds. This means of course, that a 
 change in causes will bring a change in effects. And ex- 
 perience shows that this is true. . . . Conduct, if sub- 
 ject to law, can be controlled if we can control its causes. 
 Human nature will respond in varying ways to varying 
 stimuli, and if we supply a stimulus which is calculated 
 to evoke only the more socially beneficent impulses of hu- 
 man beings (assuming that we know which these are), we 
 can rely upon the desired reactions taking place." ^® 
 
 If the Universe lays down certain laws of human be- 
 havior, certain conditions of action and reaction, the lead- 
 ers of Management and Labor may be expected, after long 
 and painful experimenting, to learn those laws and condi- 
 tions, and adjust their action accordingly. That, I believe, 
 is what we are witnessing in many parts of the industrial 
 
 *»Ordway Tead, InstmoU in Industry, 1918, 215 //. 
 
DEMOCRACY IN INDUSTRY 229 
 
 world, at home and abroad. The corporation or the labor 
 group which follows the principles of justice, goodwill 
 and mutual service, has attained a survival value. It is 
 giving free play to natural motives of conduct, opening 
 channels for instincts which, if repressed, become abnor- 
 mal, dangerous and expensive. A process of natural selec- 
 tion, aided by group responsibility and public supervision, 
 will tend to force other groups into line. Cooperation in 
 industry is selfishness and something more. It is self-in- 
 terest raised to the plane of common interest. 
 
 Recent industrial history thus confirms in a striking 
 way the principles which Jesus lays down as to the nature 
 of the Universe. Obedience to the laws determined by 
 the moral and altruistic character of God, means an or- 
 derly and increasingly fruitful advance, which will pre- 
 serve in the new order the best of the present order. Pro- 
 duction may be expected to increase, both in quantity and 
 quality. Human instincts, instead of being thwarted or 
 misdirected, will be given free scope. But the attainment 
 of this end will require sounder knowledge of human be- 
 havior and a higher moral leadership than either the capi- 
 talist or the labor group as a whole has thus far shown. 
 
 One possible objection may be made to my interpreta- 
 tion of the facts. I refer to profiteering, or making money 
 out of monopoly or special privilege. This has always been 
 present in any industrial order of which we have knowl- 
 edge; it has been common throughout the modem era, 
 and especially rampant during the War period. But 
 that such action is not normal to the Universe, is shown by 
 the absurdity of imagining every person a profiteer. Fair 
 dealing, the return of a full value of service to the pur- 
 chaser, has come to be, like justice and honesty, a com- 
 munity standard. It is the base-line of our industrial life. 
 One of the aims of Society, in the interest of its economic 
 health, has been the curtailment of extrinsic or unearned 
 advantage, and the equalizing of opportunity. In any 
 sphere, shrewdness and application will bring results, as 
 
230 CHAOS OR COSMOS? 
 
 in the cases already cited of the "bad" mechanic or the 
 cruel general.^^ The profiteer in the ranks of Capital or 
 Labor may have reached his immediate objective: easy 
 money. But in doing so he has come perilously near to 
 wrecking the whole industrial machine. And he has been 
 in danger, as Jesus says, of losing his own soul. Such a 
 course of procedure can hardly be called success, from a 
 cosmic standpoint. 
 
 "See ante p. 144. 
 
PAET III. 
 THE MOEALITY OF THE UN^IVEESE. 
 Section 3. National Relations. 
 XX. 
 
 NATIOlTAIi AGGBESSION. 
 
 We now pass to the field of national relations, which will 
 occupy us during the remainder of our hook. Is there any 
 evidence that justice and goodwill bring the same reflex 
 advantage, as in personal and industrial life? In other 
 words, must national groups follow the laws of a moral 
 and altruistic Universe ? Is the Christian God a Partner 
 who needs to be reckoned with in international affairs? 
 
 We may dismiss, at the outset, the idea that God has 
 been directing human history, as Lloyd George directs the 
 British Empire, or Judge Gary directs the Steel Trust. If 
 this were true, if God could be held responsible for the 
 course of our political life from the beginning, He would 
 be either impotent or immoral. But for such Super-man- 
 agement there is absolutely no evidence. This is not to 
 deny that God is a Person, sharing in human struggles and 
 interested in their outcome. The whole problem of Per- 
 sonality has been excluded from the present book. On any 
 theology, we find man and the Universe cooperating. What 
 we may expect to find, as in Organic Evolution, in Culture, 
 Providence or Industry, is a wide experimenting, a limited 
 laissez faire. E'ations, like individuals, are in daily con- 
 tact with the Divine activity. In order to survive, they 
 
 231 
 
832 CHAOS OR COSMOS? 
 
 must adjust themselves to a Universe of definite character. 
 The conditions of survival, if we can determine them, will 
 throw added light on what that character is. 
 
 Two contrasting theories of national relations are be- 
 fore us. According to Jesus' principle the strength of a 
 nation, in its dealings with other nations or with subject 
 peoples, depends on fair dealing and the development of 
 common interest and mutual service. The theory gener- 
 ally current is the exact opposite of this. Assuming a 
 competition of selfish interests, it asserts or implies that 
 national advantage is due to self-seeking, mastery and ex- 
 ploitation. 
 
 We find a natural center for discussion in the history of 
 modem Germany, from Bismarck's masterful but un- 
 scrupulous attacks on Denmark, Austria and France, by 
 which he laid the foundations for a strong Empire under 
 Prussian leadership, to the later development of "the will 
 to power" which resulted in the World War. In studying 
 the policy of force and aggression, in this extreme form, 
 let us examine its supposed biological basis, its theory of 
 the State, and its practical consequences. 
 
 By one of the ironies of history, two very peaceful and 
 amiable English philosophers were responsible for the re- 
 cent conflict. The economic and political thought of 
 modern Germany had been nourished on the idea of 
 struggle emphasized by Malthus and Darwin. Nowhere 
 had the cult of ISTatural Selection gained a stronger hold. 
 
 Population, according to this theory, tended to increase 
 faster than the means of subsistence. In the resulting 
 struggle, the stronger crushed the weaker. The field was 
 left in possession of those who were fitted to survive. It 
 wis on this law of Nature that progress depended. It ap- 
 plied to nations as well as to individuals and species. Self- 
 defense required Germany to extend her power through the 
 world, by force and without scruple. Otherwise there 
 would be no assured market for the Empire's expanding 
 trade, no outlet for her surplus population. Her progress 
 
NATIONAL AGGRESSION 233 
 
 would be ended, her world mission cut short. She would 
 sink to the position of a second-rate and stationary nation. 
 Believed with startling unanimity, not only by the govern- 
 ing classes, but by the German people as a whole, and to a 
 less but still significant degree by the statesmen and politi- 
 cal philosophers of other countries, the doctrine called for 
 war, and there was war. 
 
 The pathetic feature of the situation was that the 
 teachings of Malthus and Darwin are not true. Their 
 authority was no longer accepted by progressive scientists, 
 even in the land of their birth. Germany heroically com- 
 mitted suicide for economic and biological doctrines that 
 were as out of date as scarlet uniforms or smoky powder. 
 
 The Malthusian theory of population never was univer- 
 sally accepted by economists, and does not seem to fit the 
 facts of modem history. It has broken down at both ends. 
 With the advance of civilized people in standards of liv- 
 ing, and especially of comfort, the population does not 
 tend to increase in a geometrical ratio. The birth-rate in 
 Germany was decreasing, and more rapidly than that of 
 Britain or France. On the other hand, with the progress in 
 agricultural science and the opening up of new lands, the 
 food supply of the world has increased very much faster 
 than Malthus supposed possible. Thus the increase of 
 population in any country is either absorbed by industrial 
 enterprises, or distributed through emigration to countries 
 where the factory system has created a demand for labor. 
 In no developed civilization, in 1914, with the possible 
 exception of Japan, was there a real pressure of popula- 
 tion on subsistence. Germany, for two and a half decades 
 before the War, had so far absorbed her increase, that emi- 
 gration averaged under 30,000 a year. In 1913, although 
 the excess of births over deaths was 879,113, only 25,843 
 people left the country. In fact Germany was short of 
 labor. Not only were the estates of East Prussia largely 
 cultivated by Kussian Poles, of whom many thousands 
 were brought across the border during the summer season, 
 
234 CHAOS OR COSMOS? 
 
 but she was using Slavs and Italians in her mines and other 
 industries.'^ 
 
 As pointed out in an eariier chapter,^ Darwin's theory of 
 progress through natural selection has been rejected by the 
 newer school of Biology. Bitter struggle for existence is 
 not necessary, even in wild Nature. In the words of T. H. 
 Morgan, "If we suppose that new mutations . . . appear, 
 some of which will find an environment to which they are 
 more or less well fitted, we can see how evolution may have 
 gone on without assuming new species to have been 
 formed through a process of competition." ^ If the doc- 
 trine of progress through struggle has lost its standing in 
 Biology, it can no longer be used as a basis for political 
 theory and practice. 
 
 From the supposed biological basis of the competition 
 theory, I turn to the political doctrine underlying it. 
 Briefly stated, individuals exist in and for the State, and 
 are benefited in proportion to the strength of the State, 
 in a military sense. As Kuno Francke has expressed the 
 German ideal ; "By summoning all her powers — physical, 
 intellectual, spiritual — against the ruin threatened by 
 foreign dominion, Germany, under Prussian leadership, 
 once more rose to political greatness. A new and exalted 
 conception of the State, — a State uniting in itself all ideal 
 aspirations of the people, making national progress, cul- 
 ture and achievement the supreme goal of individual exer- 
 tion — inspired the best Germans throughout the nine- 
 teenth century and finally led to the founding of the new 
 Empire and to the recent epoch of German prominence 
 among the nations of Europe." * 
 
 The foundations of German political and economic 
 theory were laid by Friedrich List, in his Ndtiomil System 
 
 *The prospect of a check to Germany's industrial development, 
 Bufficiently serious to renew the emigration of earlier years, was 
 due, as we shall see, to the nation's adoption of the doctrine of 
 ruthless struggle. It is a case of the theory devouring the theorist. 
 
 'Ante, p. 54. 
 
 * Evolution and Adaptation, 1903, 464. 
 
 *The German Spirit, 1916, 95. 
 
NATIONAL AGGRESSION 235 
 
 of Political Economy, published in 1841. In opposition 
 \o Adam Smith's free trade doctrines, List advocated the 
 full development of Germany's productive powers, under 
 a system of protective tariffs which would make the nation 
 self-sufficient. This policy was followed more or less con- 
 sistently, after the political revolution of 1878. Many 
 other factors contributed to subordinate the individual to 
 the State: the habit of obedience to authority among the 
 German people, the metaphysical and mystical character 
 of German thinking, the hegemony of Prussia, with its 
 absolutist traditions and its ruling Junker caste, the per- 
 sonal character and ambitions of William II. Universal 
 military service, which had been adopted by Prussia as 
 early as 1808, trained the population to obey. The school 
 system was made to serve the same purpose, both in direct 
 instruction, and in its system of vocational training, by 
 which each person was educated for the special position 
 he was to occupy in life. The German, however humble 
 his calling, was taught to feel the duty and responsibility 
 of making Germany strong. He found patriotic compen- 
 sations in the self-abnegation which would help to bring 
 DeutscJiland uber alles. There were rifts in the political 
 structure. But hitherto Socialistic independence had been 
 bought off by paternal social legislation. And the Marxian 
 idea of the State is on the same plane with that of the Pan- 
 German. 
 
 A political theory may be tested in two ways, either 
 logically or pragmatically. We may take it, in the first 
 place, as an induction from the facts ^of experience. By 
 this test, the doctrine of the supremacy of the State must 
 appear to us anachronistic. It is a survival, in the modern 
 industrial and commercial era, of the absolutist ideas of 
 mediaeval Europe, which in turn were an outgrowth of 
 the patriarchal organization of society. With the growth 
 of popular government, following the French Revolution, 
 the State came to be regarded as existing for the individual. 
 The primary function of government, in democratic and 
 
'236 CHAOS OE COSMOS? 
 
 industrial countries, has been to encourage individual en- 
 terprise and protect individual interests. Outside of Ger- 
 many and similar dynastic nations, a consistent doctrine of 
 the authority of the State would not have been thought of, 
 nor is it readily comprehended. 
 
 According to the pragmatic test, any political theory 
 is true if it works well in practice. This brings us to the 
 practical results of the competition theory, which I am 
 about to discuss. Let me call attention to the fact that, in 
 the form of economic nationalism, this general idea of the 
 State is widely current. It may be stated in this way. 
 While individuals do not exist for the sake of the State, 
 they are benefited economically in proportion to the 
 strength of the State, in a military sense. This idea finds 
 embodiment, not only in strong armies and navies, but in 
 preferential tariffs and subsidized industries. It is the 
 key-note of both French and British Imperialism, and 
 of Admiral Mahan's thesis of the importance of sea power 
 in history. 
 
 Turning to the practical consequences of the competition 
 theory of national relations, I do not lay any great stress 
 on the fact that the German plan of world conquest met 
 military defeat. Even a military victory, which at times 
 seemed possible, would have been largely illusory. The 
 extreme Pan-Germans were ready to take a gambler's 
 chance, and risk the ruin of the Empire for the old dream 
 of world dominion. But the looting of commercial cities 
 is no longer a profitable enterprise. Modern wealth is 
 not portable to any large extent. The carrying off of 
 Belgian machinery merely impoverished a region which 
 it was planned to annex to Germany. As the other horn of 
 the dilemma, if they had not carried it off they would 
 have been annexing competitors to German industry, 
 within her tariff wall. 
 
 Veblen has called attention to the fact that the preda- 
 tory nations of history were essentially parasitic. Power- 
 ful adventurers fastened themselves on a superior civiliza- 
 
NATIONAL AGGEESSION 237 
 
 tion, and used its resources for further conquest. When 
 the wealth of the subject civilization was sucked out, the 
 empire or principality collapsed. The slightest reading 
 of history, ancient or modern, will cause one to question 
 the value of wars of aggression, from an economic stand- 
 point. France recovered more rapidly than Germany after 
 1870, in spite of, and many students say because of, the 
 large indemnity she was forced to pay. Five years after 
 the defeat of Eussia by Japan, by which a policy of mili- 
 tary and territorial aggression was ended for the former 
 and begun for the latter, the Russian budget showed a sur- 
 plus for the first time in twenty years, while the Japanese 
 were paying 30 per cent of their net income in 
 taxation.^ 
 
 Nor need we lay emphasis on the failure of the German 
 policy of ruthlessness. Instead of terrorizing the European 
 world into submission, it had exactly the opposite effect. 
 It gave the Allies a basis on which to appeal to moral 
 indignation, and so clothed their side of the conflict with 
 an ethical and religious sanction. The reason I do not 
 use ruthlessness and its natural reaction as an argument 
 at this point, is that a policy of national preparedness and 
 aggression may be carried on without it. The competi- 
 tion theory may be played in sportsmanlike fashion, ac- 
 cording to the recognized rules of the game. 
 
 Nor shall I enter into a sentimental discussion of the 
 futility of war. The enormous waste of treasure and life, 
 the dislocation of the normal activities of Society, the 
 physical and moral deterioration of the nations taking part 
 in it — all these have weight. They appear to put the 
 burden of proof on those who claim that a state of war 
 is normal to the Universe, and a reflection of its charac- 
 ter, or rather lack of character. War cannot, any more 
 than the duel, decide the ethics of a quarrel. The most 
 
 •Norman Angell, The Great Illusion, 4th ed., 1913, 85 //. The 
 Portsmouth treaty, however, gave Japan a definite economic ad- 
 vantage in the form of fishing rights on the Bussian coast. 
 
238 CHAOS OR COSMOS? 
 
 stand-pat historian would hardly claim that the average 
 war in history has been won by the side which was in 
 the right. The attempt of each nation to insure itself 
 against war by being better prepared for war than any 
 other nation, is a logical absurdity. But still the competi- 
 tion theory holds the field. One of the outstanding fea- 
 tures of the World War was the futility of the sentimental 
 campaign against militarism. It was defeated, partly 
 because of the revival of nationalism under the stress of 
 acute situations and aroused passions, partly because of 
 general belief in the competition theory as a practical 
 doctrine. As long as national governments, and the public 
 sentiment that lies back of them, believe that there is an 
 advantage in military strength, just so long will the theory 
 survive. The popular response awakened by the Disarma- 
 ment Conference suggests that public opinion is changing 
 front, as a result of recent experience. If war ever dis- 
 appears, it will be because men generally have discovered 
 that it does not pay. Which brings us to the crux of our 
 problem. We must learn whether competition, in the 
 military sense, is profitable, normal, and characteristic of 
 the Universe. 
 
 As a historical generalization, we may say that the ad- 
 vances in civilization and general well-being have been 
 due to peace rather than to war.^ Modern industry, and 
 the commerce through which it finds an outlet, has been 
 built up on peaceful intercourse and relative freedom of 
 trade. An apparent exception is found in the stimulus 
 which war gives to national energy, particularly along 
 the lines of invention and production. The Allies were 
 able to carry on the contest for over four years, without 
 any apparent diminution of wealth, in spite of the number 
 of persons withdrawn entirely from production or diverted 
 to the production of purely military material. But the 
 increase in the production of essentials, by which these 
 losses were made good, was not due to war, except in an 
 • Cf. ThorstdLn Veblen, Instinct of Workmanship, 1915. 
 
NATIONAL AGGRESSION 239 
 
 indirect sense. It was due to the better organization of 
 industry, to the increased output induced by the motive 
 of patriotism, and to the cutting off of non-essential pro- 
 duction and the postponement of all but the most necessary- 
 consumption. There is no reason why these or similar 
 causes should not become generally operative in time of 
 peace. All that the war experience teaches, is that we 
 have a large productive capacity in reserve. How to tap 
 this reserve is the principal problem of Industry.'' 
 
 When we examine closely the case of pre-War Germany, 
 as an example of the competition theory consistently ap- 
 plied, we find that it aroused unfavorable reactions in 
 other nations, imposed a heavy financial burden, and was 
 heading the nation toward economic disaster, in spite of 
 her apparent strength. Let me take up these points in 
 order. 
 
 When Germany, after the war of 18Y0, took Alsace-Lor- 
 raine from France, she gained a more easily defended 
 frontier, and a rich territory, much richer in fact than 
 she had supposed, when improved technical methods made 
 it possible to use the Lorraine iron ores in the making of 
 steel. The price she paid was the permanent enmity of 
 France. Not only was the thought of revenge, the idea of 
 recovering the lost provinces, a constant dream of the 
 French people. But suspicion of her powerful new neigh- 
 bor and the dread of fresh aggression led France to build 
 up a powerful military machine, to match that of the Ger- 
 mans. As further means of protection, France laid aside 
 her hereditary hostility toward England, and made with 
 Russia a military and financial alliance. The net result 
 was the competition in armaments, which laid an increas- 
 ing burden on the nations of Europe, and created a tense 
 situation where a false step would make peace impos- 
 sible. 
 
 The unfavorable reaction of England toward Germany 
 is somewhat more complicated. It appears to have begun 
 » Cf. David Friday, Profits, Wages and Prices, 1920. 
 
240 CHAOS OR COSMOS? 
 
 with Bismarck's sudden annexation of territory in South- 
 west Africa, in 1884. Other colonial acquisitions fol- 
 lowed, and it was clear that Germany had entered the 
 race as a world Power. The growth of German trade 
 aroused considerable jealousy on the part of British mer- 
 chants, who found their new rivals underselling them in 
 their natural markets. With the building up of the Ger- 
 man navy as a formidable fighting force, the British peo- 
 ple as a whole became fearful and suspicious. A com- 
 petition in battle fleets was added to the competition in 
 armies. That England was frequently the aggressor in 
 the struggle for territory and trade, is undoubtedly true; 
 I shall give some examples of this in a later chapter. But 
 the course of German diplomacy was such as to create 
 the feeling that Germany was a dangerous and unscrupu- 
 lous rival, whose continued expansion might threaten Eng- 
 land's very existence. Englishmen could not forget, for 
 instance, Germany's threatened interference during the 
 Boer War, when the British Empire was passing through a 
 serious crisis. 
 
 The reaction of other nations was more than the fear of 
 military aggression, for which the utterances of the ex- 
 treme Pan-Germans gave some foundation. Germany's 
 methods of commercial and financial penetration aroused 
 equal resentment and fear. Kecent German emigrants 
 were still counted as German citizens, and used as com- 
 mercial and political propagandists, even if they had be- 
 come naturalized abroad. German-controlled banks ac- 
 quired a powerful and sometimes a dominant influence in 
 other countries.^ Long-term credits, running often to a 
 year or 18 months, captured the South American trade. 
 Imitations of standard foreign goods were sold at a lower 
 price, sometimes through a third country to conceal their 
 real origin. Industrial and commercial espionage was re- 
 duced to a fine art. By selling abroad at a lower price than 
 
 *See G. Preziosi'B story of the Trojaii horse in La Q^rmama 
 alia conquista delV Italia j 1915. 
 
NATIONAL AGGRESSION 241 
 
 at home, it was possible to destroy competition, and secure 
 a monopoly of many lines of business. This practice is 
 known as dumping. Steel girders, for instance, which 
 sold for 130 marks in Germany, were sold at 120 to 125 
 marks in Switzerland, and 103 to 110 marks in England. 
 In Italy, in an attempt to throttle the new iron industry, 
 they were sold at Y5 marks, or from 10 to 20 marks below 
 the actual cost of production, until a working agreement 
 was concluded with the Italian steel trust, in the Spring of 
 1913.® Finally, the prestige of the Empire was used to 
 advance trade. The German navy was a powerful business 
 lever. Prince Henry and the Kaiser went on the road in 
 person. Loans were made to backward nations in return 
 for concessions and orders for goods. 
 
 As to the climax, one of the best statements I have 
 found is that of Count Czemin, the Austro-Hungarian 
 statesman. "The war would never have broken out had it 
 not been that the growing suspicion of the Entente as to 
 Germany's plans had already brought the situation to the 
 boiling-point. The spirit and demeanor of Germany, the 
 speeches of the Emperor William, the behavior of Prus- 
 sians throughout the world — whether in the case of a gen- 
 eral at Potsdam or a commis voyageur out in East Africa 
 — these Prussian manners inflicting themselves upon the 
 world, the ceaseless boasting of their own power and the 
 clattering of swords, roused throughout the whole world a 
 feeling of antipathy and alarm, and effected that moral 
 coalition against Germany which in this war has found 
 such terrible practical expression. On the other hand, I 
 am fairly convinced that German, or rather Prussian, 
 tendencies have been misunderstood by the world, and that 
 the leading German statesmen never had any intention of 
 acquiring world-dominion. They wished to retain Ger- 
 many's place in the sun, her rank among the first Powers 
 
 •Preziosi, op oit., 61; Henri Hauser, Univ. of Dijon, Les methodesi 
 allemandes d'expansion economique, 3me ed., 1916, Eng. Trans. (Ger- 
 many's Commercial Grip on the World, 1917), 108. 
 
242 CHAOS OE COSMOS? 
 
 of the world; it was undoubtedly her right, but the real 
 and alleged continuous German provocation and the ever- 
 growing fears of the Entente in consequence created just 
 that fatal competition in armaments and that coalition pol- 
 icy which burst like a terrible thunderstorm into war." ^® 
 Some points in this statement may be open to question. 
 But it undoubtedly expresses the form of reaction which 
 German Realpolitih, German arrogance and German com- 
 mercial methods had brought out in the rest of the world. 
 Let us turn to the cost of national competition. In 
 1913, the last year of the pre-War period, the German peo- 
 ple spent $342,304,875 for their army, $120,063,475 for 
 their navy, $35,635,525 for military pensions, and $60,- 
 693,500 interest on the national debt, for which prepared- 
 ness was chiefly responsible.^^ The direct cost of the mili- 
 tary competition theory may therefore be estimated at 
 $558,967,375 annually. This was $8.28 for each man, 
 woman and child, or $41.40 for a family of ^yb. As the 
 Imperial funds were raised through customs, excise, 
 profits on State railways, etc., the burden was probably 
 distributed somewhat widely among the population. In 
 addition to this, military service took 880,003 men out of 
 the ranks of productive labor. This loss was not counter- 
 balanced, as in the War period, by a patriotic stimulus to 
 production. Estimating the number of households at 
 14,920,559, every 16 households were obliged to make up 
 the production of a household from which a soldier or 
 sailor had been taken, or an additional burden of $31.25 
 on incomes of $500 a year. When local taxes are added, 
 the government was probably absorbing over a fifth of the 
 productive power of the average working class family. 
 The cost of preparedness was constantly on the increase. 
 
 "Ottokar Czernin, In the World War, 1920, 3. 
 
 "I have gleaned these figures from the 8tatistisches Jahrhudh f. 
 d. Deutsche Reich, 1914. The mark is reckoned for convenience 
 and old times* sake at $ .25. Population figures have been increased 
 by 4% to allow for 3 years' growth since the census of December, 
 1910. 
 
IsTATIONAL AGGRESSION 243 
 
 France and Britain carried a very much larger per capita 
 charge than Germany. 
 
 Even the figures which I have given seem small by com- 
 parison with the post-War period. As preparedness was 
 expected by the Germans to lead to war, sooner or later, 
 it would be fair to enter the War as a charge against 
 the competition theory. Recent experience has shown that 
 the cost of modem wars must be borne by the partici- 
 pants, and cannot be shifted from the victor to the van- 
 quished. The Allies, for economic reasons, have been un- 
 able to assess Germany even the full amount of damage 
 done by her to their own territory. Outside the reparation 
 debt, the direct cost of the War to Germany is estimated by 
 Bogart at $37,775,000,000, or $559 for each unit of popu- 
 lation, using the pre-War figures, with an indirect cost of 
 about 20 billion more.^^ He gives the following totals for 
 all countries participating in the most expensive debauch 
 known to history. 
 
 Total direct costs, net ■,,-. $186,333,637,097 
 
 Indirect costs: 
 
 Capitalized value of human life: 
 
 Soldiers $33,551,276,280 
 
 Civilians 33,551,276,280 
 
 Property losses: 
 
 On land 29,960,000,000 
 
 Shipping and cargo. . 6,800,000,000 
 Loss of production . . . 45,000,000,000 
 
 War relief 1,000,000,000 
 
 Loss to neutrals 1,750,000,000 
 
 Total indirect costs $151,612,542,560 151,612,542,560 
 
 Grand total $337,946,179,657 
 
 It remains to consider the economic position of Ger- 
 many at the outbreak of the War. In spite of the heavy 
 
 " Ernest L. Bogart, Direct and Indirect Coats of the Great World 
 Waa*, 1919. 
 
244 CHAOS OE COSMOS? 
 
 military burden piled upon her people, and her somewhat 
 limited natural resources, the Empire had been able to 
 forge her way to the front rank as a commercial nation. 
 In 1913, her regular exports totalled $2,722,800,000, 
 second only to those of Britain. In iron and steel, as in 
 many special lines of manufacture, she had already passed 
 England. The causes lying back of this remarkable 
 achievement have been given by many writers, and need 
 not be repeated here.-^^ Most of them are entirely credit- 
 able, and would have brought success to any nation under 
 any system. The question which puzzled the world in 
 1914 was this. Why, with such a growing command of 
 world markets, and so many foreign business interests at 
 stake, did leading German business men not only acquiesce 
 in but apparently encourage the War? 
 
 It may be many years before we obtain a complete an- 
 swer to this question. But it is the opinion of a number 
 of careful students that the German leaders were con- 
 scious of a weakness in their apparently strong economio 
 position, which could be covered or counterbalanced only 
 by a victorious war. 
 
 As already stated, the general policy followed by the 
 German Empire had been that of economic nationalism. 
 Industrial development was largely directed by the gov- 
 ernment, along lines that would make the nation a power- 
 ful military machine. The railway system was laid out on 
 strategic lines, often with no expectation of their cost 
 being paid by peaceful traffic. Merchant shipping was sub- 
 sidized, and adapted to the use of the navy. "Tariff legis- 
 lation has been devised to so distribute and specialize the 
 industry of the country as to make it a self-contained pro- 
 ductive organization, in so far as concerns the military and 
 
 "^See, for example, Earl D. Howard, Cause and Extent of the 
 Recent Indust. Prog, of Germany, 1907; Arthur Shadwell, Industrial 
 Efficiency, 2nd ed., 1909; Paul P. Gourvitch, How Germany Does 
 Business, 1917; Wm. H. Dawson, Evol, of Modem Germany, 3rd ed., 
 1911. 
 
l^ATIONAL AGGRESSION 245 
 
 other needs of the community in times of war." ^* Since 
 the support of the "Junker" land-holders was necessary to 
 the government, this class was favored by export rebates 
 on agricultural produce. 
 
 With the growth of industry under a protectionist sys- 
 tem, came a great increase of wealth and power in the 
 commercial classes. It is now fairly clear, I think, that 
 the pre- War policies of the German government were dic- 
 tated not only by the military but by the commercial group. 
 In fact, the two had become closely allied, as Millioud 
 points out.-^^ The military power of Germany was being 
 used, not so much for its own sake, as for forcing trade 
 openings and treaty concessions. The government, through 
 its control of the railway system, its granting of differen- 
 tial rates and export rebates, and its diversion to German 
 steamship lines of the emigration from Eastern Europe, 
 took a leading part in the promotion of over-seas trade.^* 
 The investigation of the syndicates (Cartels) in 1903, 
 only led to the encouragement of dumping as a settled pol- 
 icy of the Empire, whatever it might cost the home con- 
 sumer. The conquest of the world through trade was 
 planned with the same care as the perfecting of the mili- 
 tary machine. 
 
 Germany's commercial position in 1914, however, 
 showed weakness in three directions. In the first place, 
 the extremely favorable trade treaties with Eussia and 
 other countries, negotiated by von Biilow, would expire in 
 1917. Unless some radical improvement appeared in her 
 political position, she could not expect to extort equally 
 favorable concessions. 
 
 In the second place, the protectionist policy, which made 
 
 "Thorstein Veblen, Imperial Germany and the Industrial Revolu^ 
 tion, 1915, 207. 
 
 "Prof. M. Millioud, Lausanne, La caste dominante allemande, 
 1916. The Eng. trans, bears the title, The Ruling Caste and Fren- 
 zied Finance in Germany. 
 
 "Hauser, op, cit., 138, and chap's 2-4. 
 
246 CHAOS OE COSMOS? 
 
 it possible to dump manufactures on foreign countries, and 
 drive competitors from the field, was beginning to react on 
 the home country. Prices and living costs in Germany 
 were constantly rising, and much more rapidly than in 
 France or Britain. ^^ This led to increasing discontent 
 among the working classes. Wages were increasing, and 
 capital becoming dearer, which meant a higher cost of 
 production. To sell wrought goods abroad, it was neces- 
 sary to buy other wrought goods or raw materials, includ- 
 ing food. This balance of trade was increasingly difficult 
 to maintain. In the ^ve years from 1909 to 1913, while 
 regular exports increased $875,575,000, corresponding 
 imports increased pnly $560,850,000. For the latter 
 year, the increases were respectively $284,925,000 and 
 $19,425,000, and the balance of imports over visible ex- 
 ports only $168,450,000, as contrasted with $483,175,000 
 in 1909. At the same time, other countries, with their 
 developing industries, were becoming serious competitors 
 in the foreign market. The United States had begun to 
 export manufactured goods, instead of buying them abroad 
 in return for foodstuffs. England and France were tak- 
 ing leaves out of Germany's book. E^ot only were they 
 copying her efficiency methods in their industries, but 
 they had learned to make loans to other countries con- 
 ditional on trade orders. Canada had already adopted an 
 anti-dumping tariff, and other nations were likely to follow 
 suit. Veblen points out that in a relative sense Germany 
 was actually losing instead of gaining, the turning point in 
 German industry and commerce coming about 1909.^^ 
 
 The third weakness was inflation. The German banking 
 system had become highly centralized, with the government 
 Reichsbanh as a direct partner, and was run on less con- 
 
 " Millioud, op. cit, Eng. trans., 134 //. 
 
 " Op. cit., 253, 174 ff. His opinion is that, under a free trade 
 system, the net gain in industrial efficiency and volume of output 
 would have been appreciably greater, and that the distribution of 
 this gain among the population would have been somewhat more 
 equable. 
 
NATIONAL AGGRESSION 247 
 
 servative lines than in other European countries. Not 
 only did the banker lend money for commercial ventures. 
 He took an active part in their direction, and in the or- 
 ganization of the Cartels, or trade agreements, which now 
 controlled most lines of industry. The rapid commercial 
 expansion made necessary an enormous increase of capital. 
 Domestic and foreign sources of supply were used to the 
 utmost. Much of the capital for German industry had 
 been drawn from investors in France and England, who 
 were increasingly unwilling to lend it.^^ Credit had been 
 dangerously expanded, and was not elastic. Whether the 
 banks had already begun the practice, so flagrant in Ger- 
 many during the War, of lending to themselves and sub- 
 stituting paper for accumulated funds, probably will never 
 be known.^^ In any case, their resources were largely 
 tied up in commercial companies, which deliberately prac- 
 ticed overproduction. The investing public was baited by 
 big dividends, and many people in Germany were growing 
 rich in the process. But the gamble depended on the abil- 
 ity of the Cartels to continue indefinitely the marketing 
 of their surplus in foreign countries. As long as there 
 was a chance to secure exclusive trade and large profits in 
 the near future, it might be policy to finance exports for 
 a small return or an actual loss. If the expansion of for- 
 eign trade was checked, as we have seen indications that 
 it would be, the securities of the industrial companies were 
 worthless, and business Germany faced a collapse, com- 
 pared with which the dislocations of a short war might 
 seem a favorable risk. 
 
 If this analysis is substantially correct, Germany em- 
 barked on war because she had failed in peace. World con- 
 quest was attempted, not merely as the policy skilfully 
 
 "The withdrawal of French capital, in the Moroccan dispute of 
 1911, threatened a financial crisis, and made it necessary for Ger- 
 many to modify her demands. 
 
 *Some evidence for this will be found in Millioud, op. cit. A 
 brief account of German war finance is given by Bogart, Direct and 
 Indirect Co»t8 of the Great World War, 1919. See also J. L. 
 Laughlin, Credit of the Nations, 1918. 
 
248 CHAOS OE COSMOS? 
 
 propagated by militarists and Pan-Germans, but as the 
 desperate attempt of the commercial group to stave off a 
 crisis. Whether the crisis impending was a collapse of 
 financial inflation, or the slow but sure restriction of ex- 
 port trade, is immaterial to our argument. Germany was 
 approaching the point where further industrial advance 
 was impossible. In the peaceful conquest of world markets, 
 Imperialism was nearing the end of its rope.^^ 
 
 The German laid the blame for this situation on his 
 competitors. It would be more true to charge it to the un- 
 favorable reaction of other nations to German policy. The 
 general industrial development which was taking place in 
 the world, proved a handicap to Germany, where it might 
 have been a benefit She was inclined to look on world 
 trade as if it were a bone, which could be possessed by 
 only one snarling dog. Germany's failure, even before 
 the War, was the failure of a selfish economic nationalism, 
 as contrasted with economic internationalism, which seeks 
 to gain advantage through mutual service in trade, and the 
 dependence of trading countries on each other. ^^ 
 
 I have not thought it necessary to develop the obvious 
 witness of the War to the moral standards which lie at 
 the basis of present-day national relations, and the dis- 
 advantage which Germany suffered through their viola- 
 tion. No nation can break treaties with impunity. Bru- 
 
 *For several years before the War, the internal situation had 
 been increasingly serious. See Georges Blondel, a recognized author- 
 ity on Germany, Les embarras de VAllemagne, 2nie ed., 1912. The 
 industrial depression in Germany, which followed the Moroccan 
 crisis and the Balkan War, is described from week to week by the 
 Berlin correspondent of the London Economist. See also article 
 in Revue de Paris, Jan. 15, 1915, by Charles Bonnefon, for 20 years 
 Berlin correspondent of the Figaro. Reports of the great trades 
 unions showed 4.7% of unemployment at the end of November, 
 1913, a larger figure than in the crisis of 1908. Each year showed 
 a large increase in the number of strikes. The Reichstag was get- 
 ting out of hand, and it was doubtful whether the government could 
 continue either military expansion, or the extreme protectionist 
 policy on which both the Cartels and the great estates depended. 
 
 * Cf. Elisha M. Friedman, Intemat. Commerce and Reconstruction, 
 1920. This phase of the subject will be discussed further in chap. 
 24. 
 
NATIONAL AGGRESSION 249 
 
 tality and wanton destruction react on the perpetrator. 
 We have reached a point in history where moral laws must 
 be accepted as the normal paths, the social geodesies, of 
 the Universe. 
 
 We have still to consider the question of colonies, spheres 
 of influence, and related aspects of the struggle for world 
 trade. To this the next chapter is devoted. Thus far in 
 our argument the competition theory of national relations 
 has not made good. It is based on false biology, outgrown 
 theories of government, and questionable historical induc- 
 tion. In practice it brings heavy burdens and imf avorable 
 reactions, without any compensating advantages, other 
 than those due to natural resources, technical knowledge, 
 hard work, frugality and enterprise. 
 
XXI. 
 
 COLONIES AND TRADE. 
 
 Toward the close of the 19 th century, as the indus- 
 trial nations began to reach out for new markets, inter- 
 national competition entered a new phase. Certain Euro- 
 pean countries, attributing England's commercial pros- 
 perity to the wide extent of her empire, attempted a similar 
 expansion. The temperate regions of the earth were al- 
 ready preempted. But large portions of the tropics re- 
 mained, rich in food supplies and other raw materials, 
 and offering great possibilities for commercial develop- 
 ment. There ensued a scramble, in which England joined, 
 to secure valuable colonies and spheres of influence before 
 it was too late. The atlases of the last 40 years tell the 
 story. 
 
 Underlying this movement there were three principal 
 motives. The first was national pride. Back of the diplo- 
 matic intrigues of these 40 years, as Lippmann points out, 
 has been the popular feeling that the prestige of their coun- 
 try is the personal concern of its citizens. "There is small 
 doubt that the masses of people in no country would risk 
 war to secure mining concessions in Africa. But the choice 
 is never presented to them in that way. Each contest for 
 economic privileges appears to the public as a kind of 
 sporting event with loaded weapons. The people wish 
 their team, that is, their country, to win. Just as strong 
 men will weep because the second baseman fumbles at the 
 critical moment, so they will go into tantrums of rage be- 
 cause corporations of their own nationality are thwarted 
 in a commercial ambition." ^ Strong as is this psycho- 
 
 * Walter Lippmann, The Stakes of Diplomacy, 2nd ed., 1917, 77. 
 
 250 
 
COLONIES AND TEADE 251 
 
 logical motive for expansion, however much it throws light 
 on human character and history, it really tells us nothing 
 as to man's relation to his Divine Environment. Our prob- 
 lem is to determine whether the Universe is so constituted 
 that competition or common interest brings the greater 
 benefit. The mere acquisition and holding of territory, 
 for the sake of territory, is of no advantage. It may prove 
 a serious disadvantage. Megalomania has proved the un- 
 doing of more than one country. 
 
 Again, the nation has felt the need of an outlet for its 
 surplus population. Such a need may be genuine, and its 
 satisfaction a real advantage. But the hope to duplicate 
 in the tropics the success of English-speaking colonies in 
 the temperate regions, is essentially unsound. If there has 
 been any surplus population in Europe, it has not emi- 
 grated to the tropics. Sir Harry Johnston believes that 
 the control of tropical diseases will make it possible for 
 white settlers to live a normal life in those regions. But 
 no discoveries of Science can neutralize the effects of cli- 
 mate. The Japanese appear to be subject to the same cli- 
 matic limitations. Not so the Chinese, but China has not 
 yet entered on an era of competitive colonization. 
 
 We may confine ourselves to the economic motive. , Fun- 
 damentally it is for material gain that expansion is prac- 
 ticed and wars are threatened. The chief problem of mod- 
 em diplomacy is the weak and backward State. Persia or 
 Mexico or Morocco is like the quack-grass farm of a shift- 
 less renter in a rich agricultural country. We see the 
 same potential resources, the same lack of capital and ef- 
 ficient management. The rest of the world needs to have 
 the land developed and the weeds kept down. It is in- 
 clined to be impatient with pleas of independence and ter- 
 ritorial integrity which hold back economic progress. "The 
 pressure to organize the globe is enormous." ^ 
 
 I can think of four possible ways in which the occupa- 
 tion of territory, not properly adapted to white settlement, 
 
 ' Lippmann, op. cit., 87, 98. 
 
352 CHAOS OR COSMOS? 
 
 might be of advantage to the people of the occupying conn- 
 try: through quick exploitation; franchises and public 
 works ; the developing of local resources ; and the building 
 up of trade. ^ 
 
 The original type of colonial policy is that of quick 
 exploitation. The land and its resources are appropriated 
 by the government, or by individuals or chartered com- 
 panies, whose objective is a large and immediate return, 
 l^atives are compelled to work in the mines, or to gather 
 rubber, ivory, or other ready commodities. The most 
 familiar historic example is the Spanish occupation of 
 Mexico and Peru. In modern times, we have Belgian ex- 
 ploitation of the Congo. Each village was assessed so 
 much rubber per fortnight. If a proper return was not 
 made, any member of the village was likely to be flogged, 
 maimed or shot by a special police force made up of former 
 slave raiders and cannibals. Such a policy must be re- 
 garded as a failure from every standpoint. It brutalizes 
 those taking part in it. The wealth gained is of advantage 
 only to a few individuals. The material resources of the 
 colony are exhausted rather than developed. And forced 
 labor, under such conditions, inevitably destroys the native 
 population, whose labor and economic wants might be made 
 the basis for legitimate trade. 
 
 The holding of a colony gives an opening for special in- 
 terests within the colonizing nation. A group of business 
 men who have influence with the colonial office, are likely 
 to reap a rich harvest. Tariffs and taxes give a chance for 
 favoritism. There are railroads and harbors to be built. 
 Mineral and oil lands are subject to lease.* Just who is to 
 benefit from the fact that the colonial administration with 
 its rare prizes is in the hands of one's fellow countrymen ? 
 Contracts and concessions give an opportunity for profit- 
 
 •See Paul S. Reinsch, Colonial Government^ 1902; Colonial Ad- 
 ministration, 1905 ; Alleyne Ireland, The Fa/r Eastern Tropics, 1905 ; 
 Benjamin Kidd, Control of the Tropics, 1898; Albert G. Keller, 
 Colonization, 1908. 
 
 ^Lippmann, op. cit., 96. 
 
COLONIES AND TEADE 253 
 
 able investment. The making of goods called for by such 
 contracts may act as a stimulus to home industry. How 
 far the people as a whole are benefited will depend on what 
 the colony costs the home government. In many cases, as 
 we shall see, colonization has proved an expensive luxury. 
 
 We pass to the developing of local resources in the 
 colony or sphere of influence. In the majority of coloniz- 
 ing countries, the prevailing idea of colonial management 
 may be termed permanent exploitation. The acquired 
 territory, or valuable portions of it, is looked on as an 
 estate, to be worked in the interest of its European owners. 
 Plantations are laid out for the growing of tropical prod- 
 ucts. The marketing of these products proves a source of 
 wealth to the home government, or to groups of citizens 
 in the exploiting nation. With this we may class the mod- 
 ern development of mines and smelters, oil wells and re- 
 fineries, and other industrial enterprises. Indirectly the 
 entire world may benefit, through the increased production 
 of needed goods. The direct benefit is solely in the form 
 of a return on invested capital. Whether the colony will 
 be an asset or a liability to the nation as a whole, depends 
 largely on the reaction of the native population. 
 
 Successful colonial administration is an art, and by no 
 means a simple one. It requires experience, sympathetic 
 understanding, and the highest moral character. As an 
 English writer has said: "The running of a tropical 
 colony is of all tests the most searching as to the develop- 
 ment of a nation that attempts it; to see helpless people 
 and not oppress them, to see great wealth and not con- 
 fiscate it, to have absolute power and not abuse it, to raise 
 the natives and not sink yourself — these are the supreme 
 tests of a nation's spirit." ^ 
 
 One of the commonest and most expensive dangers is a 
 radical interference with native traditions and customs. 
 All colonial governments have been guilty of this, though 
 
 'Quoted by Maurice S. Evans, Black and White in the Southern 
 States, 1915, 279. 
 
254 CHAOS OR COSMOS? 
 
 many of them have gained wisdom throngh sad experience. 
 Even highly developed civilizations have been scrapped, in 
 the interest of European culture. The attempt is made to 
 introduce the institutions and laws, and sometimes even the 
 language, of the home country. Inherited ideas and ways 
 of thought and action are disregarded. The tribal organi- 
 zation is broken up, communal land ownership abolished, 
 and the native treated as a legal individual, rather than 
 as a member of a family or village group. Assimilation 
 may be undertaken with the best intentions. But the net 
 result is likely to be social chaos. The native prefers the 
 old ways of doing things, and does not imderstand the new. 
 He loses his traditional loyalties and his morale. The few 
 who acquire a European education, do so with a view to 
 obtaining office under the government, or become plotters 
 against it. Given freedom of contract and individual land 
 tenure, the peasant falls a victim to the money lender, and 
 is ousted from his ancestral holdings. Whatever the mate- 
 rial benefits conferred by European civilization, the native 
 population come to look on their conquerors as their arch 
 enemies. 
 
 In the exploitation of tropical territory, the chief prob- 
 lem is that of labor. The systein was most profitable under 
 N"egro slavery. With the general abolition of slavery, 
 many plantations were abandoned, as in the British West 
 Indies. The necessary labor must now be secured by pay- 
 ing wages to freed slaves or to the natives. And that brings 
 us to the psychological attitude of the tropical !N'egro 
 toward wage labor. 
 
 A careful study of this question was made by Sir Sidney 
 Olivier, whose long administrative service in the West 
 Indies gives special weight to his conclusions. The ITegro 
 in the tropics, as he says, is not trained or disposed to the 
 production of surplus value. With a generous soil and cli- 
 mate, he does not need to work hard in order to earn what 
 will satisfy his few and simple needs. To double his 
 wages, instead of stimulating him to work twice as many 
 
COLONIES AND TEADE 255 
 
 days, makes it possible for him to work 'half the number 
 of days. His sense of personal freedom and dignity, by 
 contrast with a former slavery, gives him joy in being his 
 own master and working only when he pleases. In short, 
 he has no mechanical habit of industry, no conception of 
 any essential dignity in labor itself, no delight in gratui- 
 tous toil. He 'lives in a climate where toil is exhausting, 
 and rest both easy and sweet "These are his deficiencies, 
 judged from the point of view of the European who wants 
 to make use of .his labour. From a different point of view, 
 the viciousness of his habits is not so conspicuous. The 
 African is for the most part an unskilled labourer, but he 
 is strong, and when he is pleased to work he is highly 
 efficient within the limits of his skill. He works best in 
 gangs under social impulse, he works with extreme in- 
 dustry on his own small holding, up to the limit of his 
 limited wants. There are no bounds to the trouble he will 
 take in service in which *his goodwill or affection is en- 
 gaged. The capitalist system of industry has not dis- 
 ciplined him into a wage-slave, and I doubt if it ever 
 will." « 
 
 The needs of white capital have generally been met in 
 one of two ways. The first is that of indentured labor. 
 Laborers are brought in under contract, to work for a fixed 
 term. Unless properly supervised, the system is capable 
 of great abuses. We see it at its worst in the Portuguese 
 island of St Thomas, where workers were secured from 
 native chiefs in the neighboring colony of Angola, to work 
 the cocoa plantations. The result was a semi-slavery, 
 
 'White Capital and Coloured Lahour, 1906, 83. W. P. Living- 
 stone, Black Jamaica, 1899, calls attention to the efficiency of 
 Jamaican Negro laborers, when well handled, as in the building 
 of the Panama canal, and in public works on the island. To quote 
 another authority, the South African Native AflFairs Commission: 
 "Except in the case of farm labour and the like, which is especially 
 suited to the Native, it must not be forgotten that what is known 
 as paid labour generally, means to the Native, as a rule, absence 
 from home and family, and in some employments irksome and 
 often hard and dangerous work, and the abandonment of the ease, 
 comforts and pleasures of Native village life." Report, 1905, 376. 
 
256 CHAOS OE COSMOS? 
 
 which aroused the indignation of the civilized world and 
 led to a boycott of cocoa grown in St. Thomas. The best 
 results have been secured on sugar plantations in the West 
 Indies. Indentured laborers from overcrowded countries 
 like India or China have made it possible to cultivate 
 sugar, and according to Olivier have actually benefited the 
 Negroes, by providing the casual labor they desire and rais- 
 ing the wage scale. But the introduction of Asiatics tends 
 to crowd out the white artisan, as in the island of Mau- 
 ritius, and the native worker as in Hawaii. South Africa 
 found it necessary to pass a rigid exclusion law, to pre- 
 vent its territory from becoming predominantly Asiatic. 
 For the Oriental, as Stoddard says, can not only outwork 
 the Negro, but he can underlive the White. 
 
 The second method is to compel the native to work. The 
 attempt is often disguised as a desire to educate and civil- 
 ize the native by teaching him to want and so to labor, 
 "a theory that coincides most providentially with the pur- 
 poses for which the white man is there, viz., to get things 
 dug up which the native does not want to dig for." "^ The 
 method may be indirect. Native areas are restricted, with 
 the requirement of individual rather than communal own- 
 ership. A heavy head tax or hut tax is imposed. Or the 
 land is monopolized, and the native compelled to pay ex- 
 cessive rent. Not only is a large revenue secured in this 
 way, but the native must submit to a certain amount of 
 wage labor in order to pay his taxes .and make a living. 
 Sometimes the method is direct. The refusal to work for 
 wages is made a civil offense, leading to fine and imprison- 
 ment. 
 
 From an economic standpoint, forced labor is inefficient 
 and expensive. And the effect of all such measures is to 
 generate a thinly disguised feeling of resentment and hos- 
 tility. An example of this will be given in the next chapter. 
 "If industry," says Olivier, "would be good for the black 
 man and if it is essential that he should learn to be more 
 
 'Olivier, op. oif., 96. 
 
COLONIES AND TEADE 257 
 
 industrious, the impulse must not come from forcible pres- 
 sure on the part of the would-be employer, or it will leave 
 no permanent gain, save suspicion and estrangement be- 
 tween the races. It certainly does not leave the habit of 
 industry. That can only be maintained by the stimulus 
 of the worker's own quickened will." ® 
 
 Colonies were in most cases gained by military force. In 
 face of the irritation caused by interference with native 
 customs, and by attempts to exploit native resources and 
 labor, they can be held only by force. The expense of oc- 
 cupation, of keeping order and crushing revolts, is borne 
 primarily, not by the investors in the exploited territory, 
 but by the taxpayers at home. Attempts have been made 
 to shift the burden to the people of the colony, through 
 heavy taxation. But such a course not only hinders eco- 
 nomic development, but encourages revolt and further 
 expense. 
 
 The Spanish colonies were a constant drain on the na- 
 tional treasury, and their loss came as an economic relief. 
 France, before the War, was spending in her annual budget 
 an average of $20,446,957 on her colonies, outside of the 
 navy and the colonial army. Italy's colonial adventure in 
 Tripoli was undertaken largely in the interest of the Banco 
 di Koma and other financial groups, but the people of Italy 
 paid the bill. In the Herero revolt in Southwest Africa, it 
 cost the German people $160,000,000 to kill off between 
 20,000 and 30,000 of the natives. The United States spent 
 about that amount for a very much larger job of the same 
 sort in the Philippines, and Edward Atkinson estimated 
 the resulting increase in army and navy expenditure at 
 $2.00 per year for each person. Unless substantial and 
 general trade advantages can be secured through colonies, 
 permanent exploitation does not compensate the people of 
 the home country for the added burden of taxation, how- 
 ever great the returns to individual investors. 
 
 Toward the middle of the 19th century, through the in- 
 
 •Op. cit., 159. 
 
258 CHAOS OE COSMOS? 
 
 fluence of humanitarian sentiment and the teaching of the 
 Free Trade school, British colonial policy underwent a 
 radical change. The practical independence of the Eng- 
 lish-speaking colonies was recognized. And other parts 
 of the Empire were considered as in training for self-gov- 
 ernment. What especially interests us is the fact that the 
 tropical colony came to be regarded, not as a possession, 
 but as a trust, to be administered for the benefit of the 
 native population. With many exceptions in theory and 
 practice, this policy has been followed in recent years by 
 the British and the Dutch. And the relative success of 
 their colonies, from the standpoint of the taxpayer at home, 
 is seen in the low cost of administration, as well as in the 
 development of trade, of which I shall speak in a moment. 
 
 This essentially Christian principle has been recognized 
 in the section on Mandatories of the League of I^ations 
 Covenant. "To those colonies and territories which as a 
 consequence of the late war have ceased to be under the 
 sovereignty of the States which formerly governed them, 
 and which are inhabited by peoples not yet able to stand by 
 themselves under the strenuous conditions of the modern 
 world, there should be applied the principle that the well- 
 being and development of such peoples form a sacred trust 
 of civilization, and that securities for the performance of 
 this trust should be embodied in this covenant. The best 
 method of giving practicable effect to this principle is that 
 the tutelage of such peoples be entrusted to advanced na- 
 tions who, by reason of their resources, their experience, 
 or their geographical position, can best undertake this re- 
 sponsibility, and who are willing to accept it, and that this 
 tutelage should be exercised by them as mandatories on 
 behalf of the League." 
 
 Turning to the question of trade, it is obvious that the 
 opportunity to market tropical products and sell goods 
 to the native people, is likely to be of general advantage 
 to any industrial nation. The largest opportunities for 
 commercial expansion are in this field. Whether the pos- 
 
COLONIES AND TRADE 259 
 
 session of colonies will be beneficial, from this standpoint, 
 appears to depend on the way they are handled. We are 
 again confronted with two opposite lines of policy. 
 
 Trade may be secured by a nation through monopoly. 
 Preferential tariffs are used to divert the commerce of the 
 colony to the home country. The results of this policy are 
 a good illustration of the working of Jesus' law of action 
 and reaction. Commercial selfishness tends to defeat it- 
 self, in three principal ways. In the first place, experi- 
 ence shows that, under such a system, the normal develop- 
 ment of native wants and local industries is slower than 
 where trade can follow regular lines of supply and demand. 
 If world markets are not open, the colony sells less, and 
 therefore buys less. Secondly, as goods from the home 
 country pay no duty, and as the neutral merchant tends 
 to be driven away by high duties and vexatious restrictions, 
 little revenue is derived from customs, and the colony be- 
 comes expensive from the standpoint of administration. 
 In the third place, the preferential tariff barrier, by keep- 
 ing out goods which could be bought to better advan- 
 tage elsewhere, means a higher price charged by the pro- 
 ducer and paid by the consumer. In the matter of ex- 
 ports, the merchants are able to charge the colonists more 
 for their manufactured goods. Home industries are stimu- 
 lated by the fact that they have a practical monopoly of 
 the colonial market. But in imports from the colony, the 
 persons benefited are not the idtimate producers. The mer- 
 chants pay the colonists no more for their produce. And 
 when they sell it to the people of the home country, they 
 raise the price to the level of similar produce from other 
 countries, after the high duty has been paid. A few fav- 
 ored individuals are financially benefited. But the cost of 
 living is raised and purchasing power lowered for both the 
 people of the home country and the people of the colony. 
 The net result is a serious constriction of trade, for both 
 home country and colony. 
 
 Of the many examples which might be given from mod- 
 
260 CHAOS OR COSMOS? 
 
 em colonial history, the most outstanding is that of France. 
 In 1892 the protectionist reaction led to the assimila- 
 tion of the principal French colonies to the high customs 
 duties of the mother country. That is, a tariff wall, 
 amounting to a preference of from 60 to 100 per cent, 
 was erected to keep colonial trade in the hands of French 
 merchants. The system has worked so badly that it has 
 aroused a growing protest, not only from the colonies 
 themselves, but from the Chambers of Commerce of Havre, 
 Lyons, Marseilles and Paris. In the words of the latter : 
 "Tariff assimilation has been as dangerous as political 
 assimilation. . . . The regime of 1892 has checked the 
 development of the colonies and has impoverished them." 
 To be specific, let us take the case of Madagascar. In 
 1897, when the preferential tariff policy was applied by 
 placing the island among the assimilated colonies, the ex- 
 ternal commerce, chiefly imports, amounted to 20 million 
 francs, about equally divided between France and her 
 colonies and England and her colonies. By 1912, with 
 the building of a railroad and the development of agricul- 
 ture, exports had risen to nearly 60 million. Of this 
 France absorbed 41 million. Imports totalled 50 million 
 francs, of which France supplied 44 million. If the item 
 of fabrics is subtracted, however, the import trade had di- 
 minished rather than increased. "Madagascar," says 
 Professor Girault, "gives on the whole the impression of 
 a new colony whose growth has been abruptly checked by 
 the application of an ultra-protectionist regime. The com- 
 merce of a colony to which so many Frenchmen have 
 brought their capital, should not have been limited to 100,- 
 000,000 francs, nor indeed to 150,000,000 or 200,000,000. 
 The results obtained are far from being commensurate with 
 the efforts made. The high cost of living from which the 
 European in Madagascar suffers, as much as the native, 
 has thwarted the good intentions of the colonists. It has 
 prevented the native from satisfying the new wants which 
 the Europeans were endeavoring to create in him. Cus- 
 
COLONIES AND TEADE 261 
 
 toms duties have raised by forty-five per cent the price of 
 cotton goods in Madagascar. Was not this to render the 
 merchandise unattainable for a set of poor customers? 
 Thanks to the regime of assimilation, the external com- 
 merce of Madagascar is, to be sure, wholly in the hands of 
 the French. But the colony has paid dearly for this gain 
 in French trade. Foreign commerce disappeared, and 
 with it the revenue from the customs duties. Import duties 
 in 1912 brought in only 930,000 francs to the colony. 
 This does not represent a thirtieth of the receipts requisite 
 to budgetary equilibrium. . . . The colony, in order to 
 cover its budgetary requirements, has been obliged to have 
 recourse to other imposts, heavy and ill-suited to its con- 
 dition. To supplement the customs duties, it has been 
 necessary to create consumption taxes, falling upon French 
 products as well as upon foreign products, which increase 
 still more the cost of European merchandise imported into 
 Madagascar. The natives, the colonists, and the govern- 
 ment of the colony have all been sacrificed. A single 
 French industry, cotton manufacture, has drawn an ap- 
 preciable profit from the application of the system. This 
 profit may be calculated at approximately ten millions in 
 fifteen years. It was to permit this class of manufactur- 
 ers, important, no doubt, but narrowly limited, to gain 
 these ten millions, that the fortunes of a country larger 
 than France have been compromised. The discrepancy 
 between the advantages gained by the manufacturers and 
 the sacrifices imposed upon the colonials is truly shocking. 
 'It would have been an advantage to the colony,' some one 
 has written, 'to have paid an indemnity of ten millions to 
 the French textile manufacturers and thus to have recov- 
 ered liberty of action in the matter of its customs 
 duties.' " » 
 
 The second policy is that of the open door, where the 
 
 •Arthur Girault, The Colonial Ta/riff Policy of France, 1916, 222. 
 Cf. Reinsch, Colonial Administration, 238; Wm. S. Culbertson, Com^ 
 merdal Policy in War Time and After, 1919, chap's 15-16. 
 
262 CHAOS OR COSMOS? 
 
 people of the colony are left free to trade with whom they 
 will. Import and export duties may be levied for the sake 
 of revenue, or to protect colonial industries. They are 
 not used to give a preference to merchants in the home 
 country. In this policy the British were the pioneers. 
 The handling of the colony as a trust, for the benefit of 
 the native population, brought opportunities for trade from 
 which the British people benefited, along with the rest 
 of the world. In this case, the advantage to be gained 
 depended not on special privilege but on goodwill and 
 superior service, that is on the common interest of home 
 country and colony. Competition of markets kept down 
 costs to the consumer, both in the home country and in the 
 colony, increased purchasing power, and stimulated trade. 
 Fortunate in the location of her tropical colonies, and wise 
 in their handling, the open door policy helped in the later 
 development of Britain as a great trading nation. A simi- 
 lar story, from the colonies of the ^Netherlands, will be 
 told in the next chapter. In French West Africa, which 
 is on a free trade basis, the commerce of the home coun- 
 try has shown rapid development, in the face of severe 
 competition.^^ 
 
 Where the open door door policy prevails, trade follows 
 supply and demand, rather than the flag. It is not neces- 
 sary to own colonies in order to secure tropical markets, as 
 we see from the success of Danish and Belgian firms. In 
 fact ownership may bring the curse of bureaucracy and 
 prove a serious handicap. German trade with her own 
 colonies was a minor item, paying very low interest on the 
 national investment. As Reinsch said: "German com- 
 merce is most prosperous where there are no German of- 
 ficials." With British possessions, however, for whose 
 
 *• Britain has been, in some cases, as guilty as the closed door 
 countries in discouraging local industrial development in her col- 
 onies. Part of the poverty of India must be attributed to a tariff 
 policy dictated by cotton manufacturers in England. The sugar 
 industry has also been hindered, in the interest of the sugar 
 plantations of Mauritius, managed by British capitalists. 
 
COLONIES AND TRADE 263 
 
 conquest and administration she was at no expense, she did 
 a large and growing business. In 1913, Germany sold In- 
 dia $35,876,000 worth of goods, an increase of 91% in 
 ^ye years, and bought $128,936,000, an increase of 73%. 
 In fact about half of her imports came directly or in- 
 directly from the British colonies. 
 
 The chief advantage in having colonies of your own, is 
 to prevent such regions from being closed to your com- 
 merce by trade monopoly. Germany had long been 
 haunted by the fear of a British Zollverein, an exclusive 
 trade area, which would shut out the merchants of other 
 nations, as British merchants had been driven from Mada- 
 gascar. For this feeling there was some justification in 
 the tentative steps taken for preferential tariffs within 
 the British Empire. Fear of tariff reprisals kept German 
 colonies nominally open to world trade. 
 
 Colonies are increasingly difficult to hold, in the face of 
 nationalist movements. ^^ In their treatment of other peo- 
 ples, the industrial countries have brought out a danger- 
 ous reaction among the native populations of Asia and 
 Africa. Some examples of this will be given in the next 
 chapter. 
 
 It is unfortunate for the peace of the world that nations 
 are inclined to take the short view of selfish exploitation, 
 rather than the long view of mutual advantage, as advo- 
 cated by the political economist. To this subject we shall 
 return, in our chapter on Internationalism. Colonial prac- 
 tice is apt to go contrary to the most approved colonial ex- 
 perience. But it is this experience, with its witness at 
 various points to the law of common interest, which con- 
 firms our picture of a Christian Universe. We are con- 
 cerned not so much with human nature, as with the world 
 to which human nature must in the long run adjust itself. 
 
 "See Lothrop Stoddard, The Rising Tide of Color, 1920, whose 
 value as a historical summary is independent of the author's 
 vagaries about the Nordic race; Herbert A. Gibbons, New Map of 
 Asia, 1919 J H. M. Hyndman, The Aioakening of Asia, 1919. 
 
XXII. 
 
 THE TREATMENT OF OTHER PEOPLES. 
 
 We have been considering, on somewliat broad lines, tbe 
 competitive theory of national relations, in both its mili- 
 tary and its commercial aspects. In this chapter I pro- 
 pose to examine certain specii&c cases of action and reac- 
 tion. My object is to show how the law of common interest 
 operates. Cases are chosen to illustrate a variety of ob- 
 jects, from independent nations to conquered regions, and 
 from civilization to backwardness and savagery. Unfor- 
 tunately most of them show the lack rather than the pres- 
 ence of goodwill. If the method of Behavior Psychology 
 makes good in this field, future statesmen will ask, in re- 
 gard to any course of action affecting other peoples : What 
 reaction will it bring out in the people concerned ? Will 
 this be favorable, or unfavorable ? According to the prin- 
 ciples of Jesus that is practically the same as asking: 
 What course of action is right? 
 
 The leading nations of Europe have followed a very dif- 
 ferent principle. To round out the story of the World 
 War, we may take the diplomatic history which gave Ger- 
 many the feeling of being thwarted in her policy of ex- 
 pansion. The Turkish Empire, potentially rich but unde- 
 veloped, offered a far more promising field for WeltpolUih 
 than African jungles or Pacific islands. Railway conces- 
 sions granted to German financiers in 1888, developed into 
 the plan for a line through Bagdad to the Persian Gulf. 
 The visits of Emperor William to Turkey in 1889 and 
 1898, led among other things to a concession for the con- 
 struction of this railway. The only feasible terminus was 
 
 264 
 
THE TREATMENT OF OTHER PEOPLES 265 
 
 the port of Koweit, ruled by a sheik who was practically 
 independent of Turkey. When the German mission ar- 
 rived at Koweit to make the necessary arrangements, they 
 found that the British had been ahead of them. A secret 
 convention had already been arranged by Col. Meade, the 
 British resident of the Persian Gulf. In return for spe- 
 cial protection, the sheik bound himself to make no cession 
 of territory without the consent of the British government. 
 The Sublime Porte, under German prodding, sent a vessel 
 to Koweit in 1901. But British warships were on hand to 
 uphold the independence of the sheik. 
 
 The seen© shifts to iNorth Airica. In 1904, a secret 
 agreement was drawn up between Britain and France, by 
 which Britain was given a free hand in Egypt, in return 
 for recognition of the special interests of France in 
 Morocco. Alarmed over this extension of rival influence 
 in another potentially rich territory, Germany seized a 
 favorable opportunity to force the international Conven- 
 tion of Algeciras, in 1906, which guaranteed the complete 
 independence of Morocco. No one lived up to it. While 
 German colonists were doing their best to make German 
 intervention necessary, France was taking advantage of 
 tribal wars to undermine the Sultan's authority. On May 
 21, 1911, French forces occupied the capital. The Sultan 
 was soon obliged to put himself under the protection of 
 the French army. Germany sent a warship to the port 
 of Agadir. But in the end she was forced to recognize 
 a French protectorate in Morocco, in return for minor 
 cessions of territory in equatorial Africa. 
 
 The scene shifts back to the East. Persia's revolution, 
 on New Year's Day, 1907, which secured the granting of a 
 constitution, was followed by the Anglo-Eussian Conven- 
 tion of August 31. Burying their past differences, these 
 two nations divided Persia into spheres of influence, Russia 
 taking the North and Britain the South. Germany tried 
 Turkish intervention in northern Persia. She sent her 
 agents to stir opposition to the Convention among the Per- 
 
266 CHAOS OR COSMOS? 
 
 sian constitutionalists. Russia countered by backing tbe 
 reactionary Shah, and in 1909 occupied parts of the ter- 
 ritory to suppress civil strife. Germany then tried to 
 make terms with Eussia, and concluded the Accord of 
 Potsdam, which guaranteed the open door in itsTorth Persia. 
 But the Russian troops were not withdrawn. Persia had 
 lost her constitution and her independence, and Germany 
 another chance for expansion. Her political control of 
 Turkey, Morocco and Persia might have proved of doubt- 
 ful commercial value. But all parties concerned thought 
 such "possessions" an advantage, and their lack a serious 
 disadvantage. Under the circumstances, a European war 
 had become inevitable. The leading men of Germany felt 
 that she was being crowded to the wall, that her future 
 demanded the crushing of France and Russia, and a pos- 
 sible contest with Great Britain.^ 
 
 The treatment of China by stronger nations is of spe- 
 cial interest, as it furnishes examples of both favorable and 
 unfavorable reaction. In 1900, European exploitation 
 brought the Boxer outbreak. This was suppressed by an 
 allied expeditionary force, which captured Pekin. John 
 Hay, who was serving as Secretary of State for the United 
 States, insisted that the Chinese government was still in 
 existence, and that its territory must not be partitioned. 
 He was able to obtain from the Powers a declaration for 
 the open door in China. An indemnity of over $687,000,- 
 000 had been imposed for the outbreak. Of this, America's 
 share was $24,000,000, payable in 40 annual installments, 
 with interest at 4%. Finding that this sum was far in 
 excess of the cost of the Pekin expedition and the losses 
 of American citizens, the United States arranged that the 
 annual installments should be diminished. The amount 
 thus remitted will amount by 1940 to over $39,000,000. 
 The effect on China of this treatment was immediate and 
 
 *The story has been written many times. I have followed the 
 account of Herbert A. Gibbons, The 'New Map of Europe, 3rd ed., 
 1915. 
 
THE TREATMENT OF OTHEE PEOPLES 267 
 
 strong. It brought a general feeling of confidence and 
 friendship toward the United States, for which a basis 
 had already been laid in the philanthropic work of Ameri- 
 can missionaries. The Chinese government decided to 
 use the amounts remitted as a fund for educating Chinese 
 students in America, a policy still carried out. The good- 
 will engendered carried with it a strong preference for 
 American trade. The force of this example is not weak- 
 ened by the fact that we were not quick to take advantage 
 of the commercial opening, and that our treatment of 
 Chinese in this country and the conduct of some of our 
 financiers in regard to railway concessions did much to 
 neutralize the former goodwill. America has still to learn 
 that, in dealing with Orientals, she is dealing with her best 
 prospective customers.^ 
 
 In 1897, the murder of two missionaries had given Ger- 
 many the necessary excuse for extorting a lease of the port 
 of Kiao Chau for 99 years, with preferential rights in the 
 development of the rich Shantung peninsula, the holy land 
 of China. According to Gibbons, traders in the home 
 country '^ave claimed that the political presence of Ger- 
 many on the Shantung peninsula and the dealings of the 
 German diplomats with the Pekin court had so prejudiced 
 the Chinese against everything German that it was harder 
 to do business with them than before the leasehold was 
 granted. They actually advocated the withdrawal of the 
 protectorate for the good of German commerce !" ' 
 
 In 1914, Japan, under the dominance of the military- 
 party,* entered the War, and took over the German hold- 
 
 'See Sidney L. Gulick, The Fight for Peace, 1915, chap's 9 and 
 10; John W. Foster, Am. Diplomacy in the Orient, 1903, 423 ff. 
 
 * New Map of Europe, 45. 
 
 * Imperialism of this Prussian brand has been consistently op- 
 posed by the Liberal party in Japan. It is unfortunate that the 
 "behavior" of a nation should be so largely determined by the policy 
 of the group which controls the government. We have the same 
 thing in Industry. Many of the stockholders and directors of a 
 corporation may be liberal minded. Yet if a majority of the direc- 
 tors, or even a dominating executive, is reactionary, the policy of 
 the company will be reactionary; the response of employees ar 
 
268 CHAOS OR COSMOS? 
 
 ingg, whicli had thwarted her own plans for the develop- 
 ment of Shantung. The capture of Kiao Chau was pre- 
 ceded by the military occupation of the entire province. 
 On May 8, 1915, China was compelled to accede to the 
 majority of the Twenty-one Demands. These confirmed 
 Japan's claims in Shantung, Manchuria and Mongolia, 
 gave her practical control of the Chinese iron industry, and 
 a basis for the future exploitation of Fukien province, 
 opposite Formosa. This was followed by large loans to the 
 corrupt and subservient officials who had come to be in 
 charge of the government. Part of the money was used to 
 build up a military force that would maintain this pro- 
 Japanese party in power in JSTorth China. Meanwhile, 
 the country was flooded with cheap Japanese goods. Secret 
 agreements secured during the War from England, France, 
 Russia and Italy, made it necessary for the Peace Confer- 
 ence to grant Japan's claim to Shantung. 
 
 This decision was announced at Paris on April 30, 
 1919. The reaction in China began among the students. 
 In Pekin, on May 4, a body of 3000 tried to appeal to the 
 ambassadors of the Allies. Prevented by soldiers from 
 entering the Legation Quarter, they marched to the home 
 of the former Minister of Finance, where they found 
 also the former ambassador to Japan. Both men were 
 attacked, and the latter badly beaten. Plans were matured 
 during the Week of N'ational Humiliation, which had been 
 observed each year in memory of the Twenty-one Demands. 
 The organizing of students proceeded throughout the 
 country. Their platform contained four planks : dismissal 
 of corrupt and treasonable officials; a guarantee from the 
 Allied governments of the immediate return of Shantung ; 
 a cancellation of the 21 demands, agreed to under duress ; 
 
 public may be predicted on that basis. I do not mean in this 
 book to cast national balances. But in fairness to Japan two other 
 things should be noted. In her treatment of China she was fol- 
 lowing the example of other nations. And the history of Japan 
 since 1895 is largely her reaction to foreign interference at the close 
 of the war with China. 
 
THE TEEATMENT OF OTHER PEOPLES 269 
 
 freedom of speech and press. To enforce this program 
 the measures decided on were a boycott against Japanese 
 goods and a student campaign to arouse patriotism. On 
 May 26, pupils in the various cities struck and gave them- 
 selves to the work of propaganda. In Shanghai alone 
 20,000 met and paraded. The boycott was taken up by 
 the merchants and rigidly enforced. Japanese goods were 
 taken out and burned, Japanese banknotes were refused, 
 the pledge was made not to buy any more goods from 
 Japan. On June 3, a thousand students were arrested for 
 patriotic demonstrations. In protest, stores in Shanghai 
 and other cities closed their doors, with the statement that 
 they would not do business while traitors remained in 
 office. Train men joined the national strike, and other 
 classes of workers followed. On June 8 the student pris- 
 oners were released with apologies, and on June 12 the 
 three most obnoxious pro-Japanese officials were dismissed. 
 The stores reopened with a flourish. Weak as it was, the 
 Chinese government refused to sign the Peace Treaty. 
 
 The anti-Japanese boycott, which still continues, was 
 extremely serious, and contributed largely to the financial 
 crisis in Japan in the Spring of 1920. The trade of 
 Japanese steamship lines fell from 154 tons per trip in 
 1918 to barely 71 tons during the first ten months of 1919. 
 The company which was operating a system of palatial 
 steamers on Chinese rivers, found its vessels practically 
 deserted for the old and undesirable ships of its British 
 competitors, and was losing money at the rate of a million 
 yen a month. Japanese toys practically disappeared from 
 China. From May to September, 1919, cotton cloth im- 
 ported from Japan fell from 867,000 to 167,000 yards; 
 umbrellas from 343,000 to 6,000; canvas bags dropped 
 off 66.9 per cent; matches 46.1 per cent; paper 64.6 
 per cent.^ 
 
 "W. Reginald Wheeler, Current History, 10, pt. 2, 534, Sept., 
 1919; Millard's Review, Jan. 3, 1920; John and Alice C. Dewey, 
 Letters from China and Japan, 1920; B. L. Putnam- Weale, The 
 Fight for the Bepublio of China, 1917. 
 
270 CHAOS OR COSMOS? 
 
 The reversal of Britisli colonial policy during the 19tli 
 century has already been noted. As regards the reaction 
 of English-speaking settlers in the temperate regions, the 
 difference is highly instructive. The attempt at the close 
 of the previous century to treat the American colonies as 
 a possession, to be exploited through taxation and exclusive 
 trade, led to the Revolutionary War and the loss of what 
 would have become the richest portion of the British Em- 
 pire. Taking a leaf out of experience, the later colonies of 
 the same type were allowed to become practically self- 
 governing, with little more than a sentimental connection 
 with England. They have since given two most substantial 
 expressions of goodwill. Preferential tariffs in favor of 
 British trade were adopted, as a purely voluntary act, 
 by Canada, South Africa, Australia and ^N'ew Zealand. In 
 the World War, these countries came to England's aid with 
 a remarkable outpouring of men and money. Canada 
 alone, out of a population of approximately 8,000,000, 
 contributed 610,031 men, of whom a tenth never returned, 
 and over a billion and a half dollars. Having lived on the 
 border during the War period, in sound of Canadian 
 bugles, within reach of Canadian scorn, and with many 
 close friends in the overseas service, I gained a very deep 
 impression of the loyalty of the Dominion. 
 
 In the cases now to be considered, we shall find a phe- 
 nomenon similar to that already met with in the Indus- 
 trial field. The primary reaction of human groups is not 
 physical or economic, but psychological. The group, like 
 the individual, desires something more than fair treatment 
 and material prosperity. It craves self-expression, the 
 right to live its group life with independence and dignity. 
 The rise of this spirit of racial nationalism has greatly 
 complicated European politics, and made its proper han- 
 dling much more delicate. Until the close of the 18th cen- 
 tury, racial antagonisms counted for little. Russian and 
 Finn, Magyar and Rouman, lived side by side, with prac- 
 
THE TREATMENT OF OTHER PEOPLES 271 
 
 tically no irritation due to racial differences. With the 
 French Revolution, rivalries and wars, hitherto merely 
 dynastic, began to take on a popular character. l!Tational 
 unity came to be found in common blood. New value was 
 attached to racial language and traditions. The explora- 
 tions of scholars in the field of history and philology, with 
 the consequent revival of ancient speech and literature, 
 came at a time of keen rivalry, "when everything that 
 tended to stimulate racial vanity was caught up and used 
 by those statesmen and other leaders who sought to embark 
 on policies of expansion and aggression even at the cost 
 of arousing national jealousies or embittering national ani- 
 mosities." ^ 
 
 Whatever we may think of this movement in the ab- 
 stract, it is here in very concrete fashion, to be reckoned 
 with in national action and reaction. Take for example 
 the case of Slesvig, which could be duplicated a score of 
 times in modern Europe. In 1864, the duchies of Slesvig- 
 Holstein were taken from Denmark by the Austrian and 
 Prussian armies, and later united to Prussia. The 
 population of North Slesvig was predominantly Danish. 
 Systematic attempts were made by Prussia to Germanize 
 the district. The name of the province wasi written 
 Schleswig. German was made the official language, and 
 was gradually substituted for Danish, not only in the courts 
 and the army, but in the churches, the schools, and even 
 on the playground. The mere singing of Danish national 
 songs in the home was a cause for arrest. The result of 
 such measures was the exact opposite of that intended. 
 They merely stimulated the racial feeling which Prussian 
 officials were attempting to suppress. In 1905, of the 
 148,000 inhabitants of North Schleswig, 139,000 spoke 
 Danish, including more than a third of the children of 
 German-speaking immigrants. The Peace Treaty, at the 
 close of the World War, made provision for the plebiscite 
 promised in 1866 but never held. The vote on reunion 
 'James Bryce, Race Sentiment as a Factor in History, 1915. 
 
272 CHAOS OR COSMOS? 
 
 with Denmark stood 75,023 for, and 25,087 against. The 
 latter vote came almost exclusively from the descendants of 
 German settlers, and from German officials and soldiers 
 born within the voting zone. 
 
 For more complex reactions, under the form of nation- 
 alism, I select the case of Egypt. It illustrates, at the same 
 time, the effect on the Oriental mind of the impact of 
 Western civilization. In 1882, the anarchy in connection 
 with Arabics revolt led to a reluctant intervention by the 
 British government. It was believed at the time that the 
 occupation of Egypt would be merely temporary. An 
 actual protectorate was veiled under the fictions of Turkish 
 suzerainty and the local authority of the Khedive. The 
 object of the British was to restore order and put Egypt 
 on its feet financially. The enormous foreign debts con- 
 tracted by the Khedive Ismail made this no easy task. Its 
 successful accomplishment was due to the administrative 
 genius of Sir Evelyn Baring, afterward Lord Cromer, who 
 was sent out as agent and consul general in 1884, after 
 previous service in connection with the Franco-British 
 commission controlling the Egyptian debt. For 23 years 
 he gave himself to the slow and laborious work of recon- 
 struction. The record of those years is one of the marvels 
 of modern history. Egypt was given an efficient and hon- 
 est administration. Taxes were lightened, and forced labor 
 of the peasants abolished. The native army, trained by 
 Kitchener, reconquered the Soudan. The great Assuan 
 dam and other irrigation works assured a regular supply 
 of water and an increased area under cultivation. Abject 
 poverty gave place to prosperity. England had proved 
 the title to her guardianship. If she gained from the re- 
 vival of Egyptian trade, it was "not at the expense of 
 others, but along with others." As Milner said proudly, 
 "neither directly nor indirectly has Great Britain drawn 
 from her predominant position any profit at the expense 
 of other nations." 
 
 The earlier reactions of the Egyptian people were favor- 
 
THE TEEATMENT OF OTHEK PEOPLES 273 
 
 able. They were grateful for the benefits which British 
 rule conferred. As the memory of the former oppression 
 faded, however, occupation was accepted, as Chirol says, 
 with "growing impatience of the tutelage they believed 
 themselves to have outgrown." "^ Lord Cromer was con- 
 scious, on his retirement in 1907, that the days of paternal 
 autocracy were about over. The growing spirit of nation- 
 alism was a power to be reckoned with. British influences 
 and Western ideas "had helped to liberate new and con- 
 flicting forces that made new demands on British states- 
 manship." It was not easy to appraise this movement. 
 Thus far it was a class movement, confined to the aristo- 
 cratic group. One has the feeling that contact with 
 Europe had brought a demand for personal rights, with- 
 out any conception of corresponding duties. The edu- 
 cated Egyptian was jealous for office, and sensitive re- 
 garding social slights. The reforms instituted had touched 
 many vested interests of oppression in the former ruling 
 classes. Political propaganda was voiced by a scurrilous 
 press. And in the background there was ever the suspicion 
 of an ignorant and excitable people toward those of alien 
 race and religion. 
 
 IsTeither of Cromer's successors, Gorst or Kitchener, ap- 
 pears to have had the capacity to meet and guide the sit- 
 uation that was arising. The staff of British officials were 
 no longer in close and sympathetic touch with the people. 
 But no serious blunders were made until 1914. When 
 Turkey entered the War, a British protectorate was at 
 once proclaimed. This meant to a fanatic population the 
 transfer of official rule from a Mohammedan to a Chris- 
 tian power. JN'othing was done to reconcile them to the 
 new relationship, or to secure, as in India, their free co- 
 
 ' Sir Valentine Chirol, The Egi/ptian Prollem, 1920, which I have 
 suhstantially followed. See also Earl of Cromer, Modern Egypt, 
 1908; Alfred Milner, England in Egypt, 1892. A less favorable 
 view of the British occupation, as in Elbert E. Farman, Egypt and 
 her Betrayal, 1908, would not affect my use of Egypt as an illus- 
 trative case of reaction. 
 
274 CHAOS OR COSMOS? 
 
 operation in the War. Egypt became a British army camp. 
 The military operations brought heavy financial burdens, 
 which fell chiefly on the peasants, who had not hitherto 
 been affected by the political agitation. Food was pro- 
 cured through forced sales. The conscription of workers 
 for the labor corps in the Sinai peninsula was badly man- 
 aged and bitterly resented. Wages and agricultural prices 
 had risen during the War, but in many cases costs and 
 rents had risen still higher. The average Egyptian, 
 whether aristocrat, fellaheen or proletarian, had come to 
 regard the Protectorate as equivalent to national slavery. 
 Some at least of the leaders had faith in the high ideals 
 which Allied statesmen had been holding before the world. 
 Egypt was caught by "the magic of a phrase" : the right 
 of a people to self-determination. 
 
 Two days after the Armistice, a group of prominent 
 Egyptians met to demand complete independence. They 
 were denied the right to be represented at the Paris Con- 
 ference, in spit© of direct appeals to Lloyd George, Clemen- 
 ceau, Orlando and Wilson. Members of the Egyptian min- 
 istry asked permission to proceed to England, to state their 
 case. Their request was refused. The government warned 
 the leaders, and later arrested four of the most prominent. 
 Within a few days the whole E'ile valley was in revolt. 
 
 With the details of this insurrection movement, and its 
 suppression, we are not concerned, merely noting that it 
 involved all classes of the population, even, for the first 
 time in history, Mohammedan women. ITor is it neces- 
 sary to discuss the fitness of Egypt for self-government. 
 Only the future can test the wisdom of the guarded inde- 
 pendence recommended by Lord Milner's mission. When 
 one has stirred up a hornet's nest, it is sometimes the part 
 of wisdom to withdraw from the hornets. 
 
 For the case of a tropical dependency, the various stages 
 of Dutch policy in Java furnish an instructive series of 
 action and reaction. When the Dutch East India Com- 
 
THE TREATMENT OF OTHER PEOPLES 275 
 
 pany began operations, in 1602, the island had been ruled 
 for centuries by Hindu and native conquerors. The old 
 tribal organization and the spirit of personal indepen- 
 dence has been almost completely lost. I^ative monarchs 
 regarded themselves as owners of the land, from which 
 they extorted labor and produce, through a highly cen- 
 tralized system. The population was kept down by fre- 
 quent wars. Only a small proportion of the unusually 
 fertile soil was under cultivation. Standards of living 
 were low, and native needs easily satisfied, outside of the 
 exactions of their rulers. The Company attached itself to 
 the existing political organization, as a sort of economic 
 parasita Its one aim was revenue. This was secured 
 partly by tribute. Through the native rulers, the people 
 were also forced to produce, for a small return or none 
 at all, articles which could be sold with profit in the l^ether- 
 lands. The system proved a failure, from every stand- 
 point. The Company itself was an irresponsible monopoly, 
 badly administered and honeycombed with corruption. It 
 tried to combine the functions of trader and ruler. In 
 the earlier period, by procuring tropical products at low 
 cost and selling them for high prices, large returns were 
 made to the stockholders. With the fall of prices in 
 Europe, and the growth of competition from! foreign 
 smugglers, profits turned to losses. Dutch rule was con- 
 stantly extended, in order to develop further the forced as- 
 sessments of produce. But by 1798 the Company was 
 bankrupt, and its powers and debts were assumed by the 
 State. Commercially, the island remained undeveloped. 
 !N'othing had been done for the native population, except 
 to add to their previous burdens. The one positive con- 
 tribution of the Company was the suppression of native 
 wars. 
 
 The next stage in Dutch policy was that of the Culture 
 System. The ]!^etherlands government had taken the place 
 of the former native rulers, as owner of the land on the 
 
276 CHAOS OK COSMOS? 
 
 island. Confronted with a large colonial debt, and in need 
 of funds at home, it looked on its East Indian estate as a 
 valuable source of income. To secure immediate returns, 
 and solve the vexing labor problem on tropical plantations, 
 the plan of enforced cultures was adopted. Instead of pay- 
 ing to the government a certain proportion of their or- 
 dinary crop, which was rice, the natives were to put at 
 its disposal a part of their land and labor-time. On this 
 land and with this labor, for which a small return was to 
 be made, they were to grow coffee, sugar or other products 
 which the government could export. The system broke 
 down, like its predecessor. Forced labor, however cheaply 
 secured, is always expensive. A government, even if well 
 administered, is not competent to manage the exacting 
 operations of a vast tropical farm. The whole scheme 
 was inspired by a spirit of selfish exploitation. And the 
 same spirit showed itself in the administration of the 
 island. The Dutch officials, pressed by the home govern- 
 ment for immediate revenue, passed on the pressure to 
 the native contractors, and these to the village headmen. 
 Each lined his own pockets on the way. The earlier regu- 
 lations for the protection of the natives were disregarded. 
 The system became so oppressive that a movement of popu- 
 lation began from the culture districts. Some sections lost 
 a half to two thirds of their people through emigration to 
 other parts of the island. Those who remained suffered 
 from famine and pestilence, due to the diminished food 
 supply. They were not left enough land and time to raise 
 food, or paid enough wages to buy it. The famine of 
 1849-50 carried off a third of a million people in central 
 Java, one of the richest regions on earth. That any 
 financial benefits were received, in return for the ruin of 
 a valuable empire, was due solely to the high price of 
 coffee in Europe during the period. Gn most of the other 
 crops the government lost money. The soil was impover- 
 ished, and the culture products constantly deteriorated in 
 quality. By 1870, when light was turned on the system, 
 
THE TEEATMENT OF OTHER PEOPLES 277 
 
 proper book-keeping showed that the net gain had entirely 
 vanished. 
 
 The Dutch people had been kept in ignorance of the true 
 conditions in the Indies. When the facts became known, 
 about 1860, an agitation for reform began which, after ten 
 years, put the Liberal party in power and brought a re- 
 versal of Dutch colonial policy. The welfare of the na- 
 tives was made the prime consideration, rather than in- 
 come for taxpayers in the ISTetherlands. The govern- 
 ment renounced its right to enforced labor, and the cul- 
 ture system, even on a wage basis, was gradually abolished. 
 In earlier periods, considerable tracts had been sold to for- 
 eigners, but the further alienation of agricultural land was 
 now forbidden. At the same time, the development of 
 large plantations was encouraged by a system of leases, un- 
 der strict regulation. The Dutch officials studied the 
 native political organization, and attempted to make the 
 land tax and the local administration more equitable. 
 Hopeful beginnings were made in primary and secondary 
 education, and public works undertaken on a business- 
 like basis. 
 
 Many problems remain to be solved. But the general 
 success of the new policy has been suggested by Profes- 
 sor Day : "Government officials hold planters in a position 
 of extreme dependence, and may sometimes abuse their 
 authority. Yet this course seems justified by the fact that 
 on one side the native has been well protected, and on the 
 other production has steadily and rapidly increased. . . . 
 Welfare in the European sense hardly exists in Java now. 
 The people prefer to increase in number rather than to 
 raise their standard of life as individuals. They seem, 
 however, in spite of a great growth in population, to have 
 at least maintained the customary standard. Articles de- 
 scribing the private economy of the Javanese show that 
 they have a pitifully small margin above the mere neces- 
 saries of life. Oriental and European standards are vastly 
 different, however ; measured by the Oriental standard, or 
 
278 CHAOS OK COSMOS? 
 
 measured by their own past history, the Javanese are now 
 comparatively well-to-do." ® 
 
 Little or no return was made to the home treasury. But 
 the colony has been self-supporting, besides carrying the 
 cost of the long war in Sumatra. Differential duties in 
 favor of Dutch industry and shipping were abolished in 
 1872. According to our Minister from the ITetherlands : 
 "The results of the open-door policy are very satisfactory. 
 Far from having stunted home enterprise, the foreign com- 
 petition has stimulated and strengthened it." ^ The trade 
 of the Dutch East Indian colonies trebled in 23 years, 
 reaching $400,000,000 in 1913. E'early a third of this 
 was with the mother country. 
 
 In the last case which will be cited, the treatment of 
 the natives in ISTatal, we are dealing with a virile and high- 
 spirited race, which had preserved its tribal organization. 
 Widespread unrest, culminating in the revolt of 1906-7, 
 led to a series of important investigations. The general 
 situation disclosed was something like this. According to 
 the census of 1904, the Bantu-speaking Zulus or Kaffirs 
 numbered 904,041, or more than nine blacks to every 
 European. The majority were still settled on native re- 
 serves, under their tribal chiefs. Each kraal or village, 
 located on land assigned by the chief, was surrounded by 
 garden plots cultivated by the women, and by communal 
 pasture for the cattle tended by the men. The first effect 
 of British rule was the elimination of tribal wars. This 
 led to a rapid increase in population, amounting to over 
 20 per cent in the 13 years from 1888 to 1904. As agri- 
 cultural methods were extremely primitive, the exhaustion 
 of the soil made it necessary to move the kraal every few 
 years. It was increasingly difficult for the reserves to 
 support the growing native population. Many had settled 
 on Crown lands and European farms, either as tenants or 
 
 8 Clive Day, The Dutch in Java, 1904, 379. See also Jam,, British 
 Foreign Office Handbooks 82, 1920. 
 
 •J. T. Cremer, Pro&s of Am. Econ. Assoc, Dec, 1918, 341. 
 
THE TREATMENT OF OTHER PEOPLES 279 
 
 as squatters. The former were subject to higli rents, 
 and the latter to eviction at any time. In some cases such 
 lands had been purchased by individuals or groups of 
 natives. But on the reserves, no steps had been taken, 
 as in Cape Colony, to encourage the change from com- 
 munal to individual ownership. 
 
 The second great impact of European civilization was 
 the demand for labor, which followed the opening of the 
 Transvaal mines. Natives were recruited, for a few 
 months at a time, from all parts of South Africa, returning 
 to their kraals at the end of their contract. This employ- 
 ment had come to be carefully supervised by the govern- 
 ment, in cooperation with the mining companies. Its effect 
 was two-fold. In the first place, it was a real step in the 
 economic development of the native population, opening up 
 new wants and the means of supplying them. In many 
 cases returning laborers used their earnings to purchase 
 cattle, and even ploughs. Young men would submit to 
 temporary exile and distasteful labor, in order to accumu- 
 late enough to marry. The second effect of the labor camps 
 was to break up the old community life, and the moral 
 obligations which it enforced. The young men who had 
 spent six months at Johannesburg or Durban, were sophis- 
 ticated and independent of authority. Many of them had 
 acquired European vices. The same loosening of author- 
 ity tended to make the Kaffir women and girls idle and 
 immoral. The white man was undermining the tribal 
 and family organization, with its code of ethics, without 
 putting anything in its place. 
 
 Christian missionaries had done most efficient service. 
 But the native Christian found the door closed to the 
 economic advance for which he was fitted. Through fear 
 of political movements, the Natal government would not 
 allow native churches, unless these were officially regis- 
 tered and supervised by a white pastor. Outside of the 
 mission stations nothing had been done in the way of edu- 
 cation or industrial training, for both of which the natives 
 
280 CHAOS OR COSMOS? 
 
 showed a growing demand. Only about 11,000 children 
 were enrolled. In aid of these schools, the government 
 spent a paltry $37,865 in 1905-6, out of a direct con- 
 tribution to the treasury by the natives of $1,532,420. 
 ISTo representation accompanied this taxation. There was 
 practically no opportunity for a Kaffir to obtain the fran- 
 chise, even if well educated and a large property holder. 
 In the entire colony, only two blacks were entitled to vote. 
 In the scathing words of the E'ative Affairs Commission : 
 "No marked degree of individual progress in agriculture, 
 architecture, or handicrafts, manners, or morals, can be 
 discovered as due to direct Government action." 
 
 The E'atal government merely reflected the sentiments 
 and prejudices of the ruling race. It attempted, in a 
 rather blind and mechanical way, to protect the Kaffir as a 
 minor ward. At the same time its policy, if it can be 
 said to have had a policy, was to keep him in a position 
 of permanent inferiority. The average white settler 
 looked on the native, not as an agriculturist, whose eco- 
 nomic advance would add to the wealth of the country, but 
 as a common laborer for farm, kitchen or warehouse. To 
 secure the black's uncertain and inefficient service, he was 
 forced to compete with the mines and other industries. To 
 educate the Kaffir would be, from this point of view, to 
 spoil him as a workman, and make him dangerously inde- 
 pendent. Compulsory manual labor was confined to the 
 draft of natives furnished by the chiefs for roads and 
 other public works. But taxation was apparently intended 
 as an indirect incentive to industry. The natives were 
 compelled to pay $3.50 annually for every hut. In 1905, 
 in order to reach the floating class of young men, a head 
 tax of $5 was imposed, for all adult males who did not 
 pay the hut tax. This heavy burden of taxation, for 
 which they received little return, fell on a people impov- 
 erished by rinder-pest, locusts, and the neglect of cultiva- 
 tion. 
 
 The year 1906 saw a series of murders of white men, 
 
THE TREATMENT OF OTHER PEOPLES 281 
 
 growing out of attempts to collect the poll tax. A revolt, 
 headed hj sl deposed chief, was suppressed only by ener- 
 getic measures, 3500 natives being killed and 2000 more 
 imprisoned. The ISTative Affairs Commission found that 
 "the chasm between the races has been broadening for 
 years, and that the attitude of the l^atives is now one of 
 distance and distrust." By contrast with the kraal-man, 
 who simply desired to be left alone, "to live his own life 
 of sensual stagnation," the more ambitious Zulus had be- 
 come aggressively conscious of their individual and racial 
 rights. There was a growing sense of power and solidarity 
 among the Kaffir tribes of South Africa. The cry of 
 Africa for the Africans had begun to be sounded. An 
 Ethiopian church movement, revolting from white tutelage, 
 drew in a considerable proportion of the native Chris- 
 tians. I close with another quotation from the Commis- 
 sion's report : ^^ "Weighed and wanting must be the re- 
 luctant verdict upon past efforts to reconcile [the E'atives] 
 to changed conditions of rule and policy, and to convert 
 them into an element of stability and strength. Let the 
 question be fairly put and plainly answered. What is to 
 be the destiny of this Colony, with its overwhelming 'Nsl- 
 tive population? iNToted for their fecundity and virility, 
 they will not die out or succumb to ordinary adversity, 
 and, as we can neither assimilate nor destroy them, 
 political forethought and common sense alike call for a set- 
 tlement of the question on a broad, enlightened, and per- 
 manent basis." 
 
 "Report of Native Affavrs Commiss., Natal, 1906-7, 19 {Cd. S889, 
 1908). See also Report of 8. African Native Affairs Commiss. , 
 1903-5 {Cd. 2339, 1905) ; S. African Native Races Committee: The 
 Natives of 8. Africa, 1901; The South Afrioam, Natives, 1908. 
 
xxin. 
 
 THE COLOE lilNE. 
 
 Already we have passed more than once within the 
 color line. The treatment of other peoples enters a pecu- 
 liarly delicate phase, where white and black races exist 
 permanently side by side within a highly developed civili- 
 zation. For over half a century the Southern states of 
 America have been a social laboratory, where one might 
 study racial action and reaction. I shall not attempt to 
 discuss the history or psychology of race prejudice. The 
 shortcomings and the progress of the colored people, or of 
 the white South, the present status of the Negro problem 
 in its various aspects — all this in itself is beyond our 
 province. I merely gather some of the more striking evi- 
 dence which shows how two distinct groups, forming part 
 of the same society, constantly react on each other. ■'^ 
 
 As a Southern health officer says : "We face the follow- 
 ing issues : First : One set of people, the Caucasian, with 
 a normal death-rate of less than 16 per thousand per an- 
 num, and right alongside of them is the negro race, with 
 a death-rate of 25 to 30 per thousand. Second: the first- 
 named race furnishing a normal, and the second an ab- 
 normal, percentage of criminals. . . . The negro is with 
 you for all time. He is what you will make him, and 
 it is 'up to' the white people to prevent him from becoming 
 a criminal, and to guard him against tuberculosis, syphilis, 
 
 *I attempt no general bibliography for this chapter, largely 
 because recent events have made previous studies out of date. In 
 addition to the authorities quoted in the text, I mention only the 
 charming introduction to Southern sociology: Mrs. L. H. Ham- 
 mond's In Black and White, 1914. 
 
 282 
 
THE COLOE LINE 283 
 
 etc. If he is tainted with disease, you will suffer; if he 
 develops criminal tendencies, you will he affected." ^ 
 
 Some ten years ago, a certain large city of the South 
 voted $100,000 of bonds for a sewerage system. ITo sew- 
 ers were placed in the Negro section, on the ground that 
 the colored people would not have sense enough to use 
 them. The next year a serious epidemic of typhoid fever 
 visited the city, taking its rise in this same Negro district. 
 Additional sewers were then installed. 
 
 In other lines the come-back, if not as rapid, appears 
 to be equally sure. We find it in sexual relations. Inter- 
 marriage of blacks and whites, which in general neither 
 race desires, is forbidden by all the Southern states. Open 
 concubinage has practically ceased, under pressure of pub- 
 lic opinion. But the intense sentiment against the mixing 
 of the races, reinforced by lower motives, has brought 
 it about that a Negro girl cannot obtain legal redress 
 from the white man who ruins her, or support for his bas- 
 tard child. This situation adds immensely to the strength 
 of the white man's temptation. He knows that he need not 
 fear the penalties against adultery and fornication, which 
 the law provides in the case of white women. The South's 
 greatest danger to its morals lies in this illicit admixture 
 of the races, this double standard of sexual relations, 
 which has been brought about by the outlawing of Negro 
 women. "In view of the vital connection between the 
 morals of the two races, the moral regeneration of either 
 must of necessity include both." ^ 
 
 The effect of this situation on Negro men is more than 
 the force of example, which leads to further debauching 
 of colored women. They must share the women of their 
 own race with their white rivals, while the women of the 
 dominant race are kept from them by the triple wall of 
 law, public opinion and masculine sentiment. A sense of 
 
 * Quoted by Wm. Archer, Through Afro-Amerioa, 1910. 
 'Archibald H. Grimke, The Sex Question <md Segregation, Am. 
 N^ro Academy, Dec., 1915» 
 
284 CHAOS OR COSMOS? 
 
 sullen resentment leads some of them to endeavor to climb 
 that wall, by the dark and crooked ways their white in- 
 structors have shown. Hanging like a pall over the white 
 South is the fear of such assaults on women and girls by 
 brutal black men.'* 
 
 Lynching, the remedy attempted for this very real dan- 
 ger, brings us to another instructive case of action and re- 
 action. The summary execution of desperate white men 
 is familiar enough under frontier conditions, where legal 
 machinery is not available. As a method of dealing with 
 l^egro criminals, it appears to have been fastened on the 
 South by the Ku Klux Klan. The primary object of 
 lynching, according to its defenders, is to prevent by in- 
 timidation the crime of rape. The effect has been the 
 exact opposite. "The facts as known," says Cutler, "in- 
 dicate that lynching for assault upon white women, instead 
 of having a repressive influence, has directly stimulated its 
 perpetration. Assaults on white women have occurred 
 again and again immediately following a lynching for such 
 crime, and they have so occurred in the same neighbor- 
 hood where the lynching took place. It has been pub- 
 licly stated that in one instance a negro who had witnessed 
 a lynching for this crime actually committed an assault on 
 his way home." ^ Following the Atlanta race riot, which 
 caused extreme and widespread terror among the Negro 
 population, several assaults on white women occurred. 
 Civilized nations have learned, by bitter experience, the 
 truth of this psychological law, that "severe punishments, 
 especially if publicly executed, tend to increase crime." • 
 Sir Sidney Olivier, commenting on the complete absence 
 of assaults on white women in Jamaica, where the blacks 
 outnumber the whites 60 to 1, attributes the situation in 
 the Southern states to "the constant storm of suggestion 
 
 *Cf. Ray Stannard Baker, Following the Color Line, 1908, 
 chap. 1. 
 "James E. Cutler, Lynch-Law, 1905, 224. 
 • Henry P. Fairchild, Unpcurtisan Review, No. 27, 16, 1920. 
 
THE COLOR LINE 285 
 
 to the most imaginative and uncontrollable of passions in 
 an excitable and imaginative race." ^ 
 
 Mob violence, the habit of taking the law into their 
 own hands, tended to grow by what it fed on. It spread 
 to other crimes than rape. When we examine the lynching 
 record in the United States for the 30 years from 1889 
 to 1918,^ we find that, of 2,522 Negroes lynched, only 
 28.4% were put to death for real or alleged assaults on 
 white women. Of the remainder, 35.8% were charged 
 with murder, 9.5% with other crimes against the person, 
 8.3% with crimes against property, 12% with miscellane- 
 ous crimes, and 5.6% were lynched for other than criminal 
 offenses. During this period, 50 N^egro women were 
 lynched. Taking five year periods, the proportion of 'Ne- 
 groes lynched for assaults on white women has steadily de- 
 clined, from 31.8% in 1889-1893, to 18.9% in 1914-1918. 
 While the total number of lynchings has decreased, the 
 character of the mobs has deteriorated, and the punish- 
 ments inflicted have tended to increase in severity. In 
 1919, out of 78 cases, 11 were burned to death, 1 drowned, 
 1 cut to pieces, 1 beaten to death, and the rest hanged or 
 shot ; 3 of these were burned after death. It is a frequent 
 practice to torture the victim before death comes to his re- 
 lief. !N"o one can read in detail the story of a typical 
 lynching, often witnessed by women and children, with- 
 out realizing its degrading influence on those taking part 
 in it, the supplanting of reason by passion, the cheapening 
 of human life, the encouragement to anarchy in all civil 
 relations. The reaction of lynching on the dominant race 
 is seen in the fact that 702 whites, 11 of them women, were 
 lynched during the same period. Of these 425 were in the 
 South. One of the most notable cases was that of Leo 
 Frank, in Georgia, in 1913. Accused, probably without 
 reason, of murdering a girl employed in his pencil factory, 
 
 ' WMte Capital and Coloured Labour, 1906, 50. 
 • Thirty Yea/ra of Lynching in the U. 8., Nat. Assoc, for Advance- 
 ment of Colored People, 1919. 
 
286 CHAOS OR COSMOS? 
 
 the strength of the mob spirit prevented a fair trial. Af- 
 ter his sentence had been commuted to life imprisonment 
 by Gov. Slaton, 25 "selected'' men broke into the peniten- 
 tiary, took him in an automobile to a spot near the mur- 
 dered girl's home, and hung him. I^o action v^as taken by 
 the grand jury to which the lynching was referred. 
 
 Civil justice for the Negro population has been equally 
 difficult to secure, in many sections. This is particularly 
 true under the share-cropping system, where land, imple- 
 ments and supplies are furnished by the landlord, and at 
 the end of the year the crop is divided on equal shares. In 
 1918, at Keo, Lonoke Co., Arkansas, "a J^egro by the name 
 of George Conway, raised 20 bales of cotton, the value of 
 which was $3,500. His landlord refused to furnish him 
 shoes or clothing, so that he was forced to work his crop 
 barefooted and often hungry. The worker's family con- 
 sisted of himself, a wife, and two children. Although the 
 value of the goods he ^took up' did not amount to more than 
 $300, when he asked for an itemized statement at the end 
 of the year he was told his purchases amounted to $40 
 more than the value of his crop. When he demanded a 
 settlement and an itemized statement his landlord beat 
 him severely and threatened to kill him if he persisted in 
 his demand. For the $40, balance due, the landlord seized 
 the ISTegro's household goods and drove him off the plan- 
 tation, penniless." ® 
 
 The effect of such conditions on the white South may be 
 traced in at least three directions. In the first place, the 
 exploitation of the I^egro means the moral degradation of 
 the white. As Murphy puts it, "The chief sufferer is not 
 the weaker group, but the group thus afforded a rich sup- 
 port for its coarser elements and its lower tendencies — ele- 
 ments and tendencies which a normal and homogeneous 
 life might more effectively dislodge or modify. Low stand- 
 ards in the services rendered by the negro to the com- 
 munity are not so serious as the low standards of service 
 
 •Walter F. White, Survey, 233, Dec. 13, 1919. 
 
THE COLOE LINE 287 
 
 he exacts ; low grades of goods, cheap, adulterated qualities 
 of food, poor houses at high rents, petty loans at extortion- 
 ate interest, top-heavy mortgages that embitter the victim 
 and harden the heart of the lender; — a constituency, 
 which, however innocently, will float the less efficient or 
 less creditable element thrown off from the commercial or 
 professional life of the stronger group ; the declining mer- 
 chant annexing a negro trade, the discredited lawyer an- 
 nexing 'negro business/ " ^® 
 
 A second effect has been the increase of racial ten- 
 sion. !Negro race consciousness, which had been slowly 
 developing in the better educated and more prosperous 
 groups, was spread and matured through participation in 
 the War. Colored people came to insist more generally on 
 their legal rights. As Professor Morse has said, "There 
 is a new !N'egro in the South, the product of five years of 
 human struggle which are easily the equivalent of any hun- 
 dred earlier years of human history. We shall prove the 
 quality of our education by our willingness and ability to 
 adjust ourselves to him." ^^ The process of readjustment 
 has not been easy for either side. The new self-assertion 
 of the ITegro led to renewed attempts at intimidation and 
 repression, the Ku Klux being revived in many sec- 
 tions. As a consequence, [N'egroes armed themselves in 
 self-defense, and armed clashes became more frequent. 
 Outside of Arkansas, where the whites greatly outnumber 
 the blacks, recent race riots have been battles, not mas- 
 sacres. The old spectre of an armed insurrection of the 
 Negroes has come back to haunt the white South. ^^ Not 
 only have many colored folk been disillusioned by the ex- 
 periences of the War and after, but a radical left wing 
 has developed, under the leadership of the Messenger. 
 
 " Edgar Gardner Murphy, Basis of Ascendency, 1910, 124 ^. 
 
 " Sewanee Review, Apr., 1920. 
 
 "Herbert J. Seligman, The Negro Faces America, 1920, 56, 69. 
 In The Voice of the Negro, 1920, Robert T. Kerlin gives excerpts 
 from the Negro press for the four months following the Washing- 
 ton riot. The book is a notable attempt to study racial reactions. 
 
288 CHAOS OK COSMOS? 
 
 Our handling of the race problem is producing a reaction 
 like that from industrial exploitation, with which in many 
 parts of the South it is closely related. 
 
 The third form of reaction, though second in point of 
 time, was the migration of [Megroes from the South. Defi- 
 nite movements took place to Kansas in 1879, and to Ar- 
 kansas and Texas in 1888-9. These were followed by a 
 slow shifting of I^egroes from the Black Belt to newer 
 sections of the South, and to Northern towns and cities. 
 In 50 years this northward movement transferred about 
 4 per cent of the entire Negro population. The migration 
 of 1916-17 was unprecedented in volume. Over 400,000 
 Negroes, from all parts of the Southern states, moved 
 north. As in the earlier movements, the fundamental 
 cause was economic. The Negroes left their old home to 
 better their condition, like the emigrants from Europe. A 
 serious agricultural depression in the South, at the begin- 
 ning of the European war, coincided with the stopping of 
 European immigration to the North and the unprece- 
 dented demand for labor. All students of the Migration, 
 however, recognize that a strongly contributing factor was 
 the fear, resentment and restlessness provoked by the treat- 
 ment Negroes had been receiving in the South. The exo- 
 dus from South Carolina, for example, was started by the 
 lynching of a wealthy Negro, Anthony Crawford. The 
 following report comes from Mississippi : "The police of 
 most of the cities are rough and indiscriminate in their 
 treatment of negroes. At the depot during the sununer, 
 on several occasions, negro porters were severely beaten 
 by policemen for trivial reasons. This, it was said, started 
 a stream of young men that cleaned the town of porters." 
 When a labor agent could offer not only big wages, but 
 good schools, decent living conditions, fair treatment, and 
 freedom from intimidation and repression, his appeal 
 found ready listeners. Once started, the movement gath- 
 ered its own momentum. Whole communities caught the 
 
THE COLOR LINE 289 
 
 "northern fever." Individuals who had gone north, wrote 
 back urging their friends to join them. 
 
 The Migration brought a race problem to the North, 
 largely economic in character, which is too complex to dis- 
 cuss here. Our study in this chapter is confined to racial 
 action and reaction in the South. The sudden draining 
 from that section of a considerable portion of its Negro 
 labor was extremely serious. "Homes found themselves 
 without servants, factories could not operate because of 
 the lack of labor, farmers were unable to secure laborers 
 to harvest their crops." The Macon Telegraph, which a 
 few months before had advocated sending 100,000 worth- 
 less Negroes to Mexico, said of Negro labor : "If we lose 
 it, we go bankrupt." At first, drastic measures were taken 
 to check the migration. Solicitation by labor agents was 
 prohibited. Individual Negroes were arrested. Crowds 
 waiting for trains were roughly handled by the police. 
 Stories were circulated as to the cold weather in the North, 
 and the spread of sickness among the migrants. When 
 it was found that such a policy only served to stimulate 
 the movement. Southern leaders, of all shades of opinion, 
 began to recognize the common interest of the races, and 
 take steps to remedy the causes of the migration. It is 
 easy to exaggerate the extent of this change, but some of 
 the measures attempted are very suggestive. Wages were 
 raised to a point that would hold Negro labor in the South. 
 Plantation work in many places was put on a fairer basis. 
 Improvements were made in the condition of Negro dis- 
 tricts in the cities. Newspapers, often by a bold about- 
 face, deprecated lynchings and suppressed details of mob 
 violence. Petty tyranny by police and court ofiicials was 
 discountenanced. Joint meetings of white and colored 
 leaders were held for a frank discussion of grievances.-^' 
 
 "Emmett J. Scott, Negro Migration during the War, 1920; 
 Negro Migration in 1916-17, U. S. Dep't Labor, 1919. The move- 
 ment for inter-racial committees has spread imtil it includes over 
 800 counties in the South. 
 
290 CHAOS OE COSMOS? 
 
 In the comprehensive study of !N"egro Education made 
 by the Government in 1916,^* it was found that the 
 Southern states were spending $2.89 for each [N'egro child 
 as compared with $10.32 for each white child. The at- 
 tendance in both public and private schools included only 
 58.1 per cent of the children from 6 to 14 years of age. 
 In practically all of the states the average school term was 
 less than five months. The wretched condition of the 
 school buildings was matched by the lack of supervision, 
 and the failure to adapt the course to community needs. 
 Teachers were poorly paid. Their average preparation 
 represented less than eighth grade work in school. Pro- 
 visions for secondary education were equally deficient. 
 Only 24,189 pupils were enrolled, half of them in private 
 schools. These included students who were being trained 
 as elementary school teachers. In colleges, 1,643 were 
 studying college subjects, and 994 taking professional 
 courses. Outside of Hampton and Tuskegee, adequate fa- 
 cilities for industrial and agricultural training were found 
 in only 16 schools, largely maintained by Federal funds. 
 The moral danger and economic loss in an undisciplined 
 and unskilled IsTegro population of 9 million (38% of the 
 total) is beginning to dawn on the white South. As the 
 Southern University Race Commission expressed it : "The 
 inadequate provision for the education of the Negro is 
 more than an injustice to him ; it is an injury to the white 
 man. The South cannot realize its destiny if one-third 
 of its population is undeveloped and inefficient. For our 
 common welfare we must strive to cure disease wherever 
 we find it, strengthen whatever is weak, and develop all 
 that is undeveloped. The initial steps for increasing the 
 efficiency and usefulness of the E"egro race must necessarily 
 be taken in the schoolroom. There can be no denying that 
 more and better schools with better trained and better 
 paid teachers, more adequate supervision, and longer terms 
 are needed for the blacks as well as the whites. . . . Our 
 "Bur. of Education, Bull. 38, 1916. 
 
THE COLOR LINE 291 
 
 appeal is for a larger share for the Negro on the ground 
 of the common welfare and common justice. He is the 
 weakest link in our civilization, and our welfare is indis- 
 solubly bound up with his." ^^ 
 
 Agriculture is still the main industry of the Southern 
 states. Much land remains to be reclaimed, and only 42 
 per cent of the area in farms is improved. Of nearly a 
 million Negro farmers, about a quarter own their own 
 farms, the balance being cash or share tenants, or farm 
 laborers. Since these Negroes make up two-fifths of all 
 persons engaged in agriculture, it is evident that the eco- 
 nomic wealth of the South depends very largely on their 
 training and general intelligence. By the use of machin- 
 ery and better farming methods, it would be possible for 
 them, as Work says, to double not only the acreage under 
 cultivation but the yield per acre, growing two bales of 
 cotton instead of one, 50 bushels of corn where 17 are now 
 grown, and 150 bushels of sweet potatoes in place of 88.^® 
 
 Other economic aspects of the situation are coming to 
 the front, for example the question of public health. 
 Southern labor shortage has been likened to "a water fam- 
 ine in a community which permits big holes in its reser- 
 voir." According to the 1910 census, out of every 100 
 Negro males born alive, 22 died within the first year, as 
 compared with 12.3 for the whites. At birth, where a 
 white boy's expectation of life was 50 years, a Negro boy's 
 was 34 years. Given a Negro population of 9 million, the 
 size of this leak in the South's productive labor force may 
 be readily calculated.^'' 
 
 The Negro problem may be viewed from the standpoint 
 
 " Open Letter to College Men of the South, Sept. 1, 1916. Notable 
 progress is being made along these lines in every Southern state, 
 and school statistics gathered today would make a much more 
 favorable showing. 
 
 "Monroe N. Work, Tuskegee, The South's Labor Problem, South 
 Atlantic Quarterly, Jan., 1920. 
 
 " Cooperative health campaigns are being carried on with marked 
 results in a number of states, notably Virginia, Maryland, North 
 Carolina and Texas. 
 
292 CHAOS OK COSMOS? 
 
 of the storekeeper or manufacturer who has goods to mar- 
 ket. Commenting on the move for racial cooperation by 
 the Pine Bluff (Ark.) Chamber of Commerce, the Manitr 
 fadurers Record, one of the most influential publications 
 in the South, said : "When you put before the Negro the 
 hope of acquiring the conveniences of modem life, you 
 touch his nerve of industry and put a power behind his 
 hoe that never was there before. The prosperity of the 
 South is wrapped up in the prosperity of the Negro. Not 
 by millions, but by billions, will the wealth of the South 
 be increased when the Negro demands, not a hut, but a 
 house ; not a cot, but a bed ; not rags, but store clothes. . . . 
 The shiftlessness of the Negro has cost the South hundreds 
 of millions of dollars." 
 
 The refusal of Southern labor unions to admit Negroes 
 has been due partly to race prejudice, partly to the fear 
 of competition from those with a lower standard of living, 
 who were willing to work for less. The latter factor is 
 rapidly being eliminated. The Migration to the North 
 gave to Negro labor a new economic value, and the chance 
 to make good in many trades. In some places, circum- 
 stances are already compelling white labor to recognize the 
 law of common interest. At Bogalusa, La., are located the 
 saw, pulp and paper mills of the Great Southern Lumber 
 Co., probably the largest lumber producers in the United 
 States. The company has strenuously opposed the organ- 
 izing of its workmen. Beginning about three years ago, 
 the white workers succeeded in forming unions. The com- 
 pany then began the systematic discharge of white union 
 men, putting non-union Negroes in their places. This 
 forced the hand of Labor, and a campaign was begun to 
 unionize the Negroes in the company's employ. On Nov. 
 22, 1919, three white union men, one of them district 
 president of the American Federation of Labor, were shot 
 by the company's henchmen, and a number of others 
 wounded, for protecting a Negro organizer. ^^ 
 » SeUgman, op. dt, 196 ff, 311 ff. 
 
THE COLOE LINE 293 
 
 I have given these examples with only explanatory com- 
 ment, leaving the reader to draw his own conclusions as 
 to the 'Negro problem and its solution. The facts bear 
 witness to a general social law, whose application is far 
 wider than the color line. Wherever two "races" are in 
 intimate contact, they have common moral and economic 
 interests, which cannot be ignored without serious con- 
 sequences. If the two differ in culture, the lower must be 
 lifted to the level of the higher, or the higher will inevit- 
 ably deteriorate. Attempts at oppression or exploitation, 
 whether perpetrated on the l^egro in America, the Pole in 
 Silesia, the Jew in Kussia, or the Slav in Hungary, bring 
 dangerous and costly reactions, because they violate a law 
 of the Universe. In the words of a great teacher: "We 
 are members one of another. No man liveth unto himself, 
 and no man dieth unto himself." 
 
XXIV. 
 
 THE GEOWTH OF COMMOIS^ INTEEEST. 
 
 The weakness of the competition theory of national 
 relations when examined from the economic standpoint, 
 and the studies we have made of racial action and reaction 
 leave the field in possession of Jesus' principle of common 
 interest, as grounded in a righteous and altruistic Uni- 
 verse. The story of the human race is the record of in- 
 complete adjustment. History's awful tragedies, like so 
 much in the unfinished Creation, must be laid at the door 
 of man's failure to understand the Universe, to comply 
 with its conditions and cooperate with its moral forces. 
 
 It remains for us to consider the foundations already 
 laid for a better adjustment and a more successful world 
 order. Circumstances are forcing the nations to recognize 
 the principle of common interest. Few people realize how 
 far the unification of the world has gone. The rapid 
 growth of communication during the 19th century com- 
 pelled countries to give up their isolation, and in many di- 
 rections their right of independent action. With the pas- 
 sage of men and goods across national boundaries, count- 
 less joint interests were formed. The world has been 
 bound together by a network of associations, of which only 
 the more important can be noted here.^ 
 
 Health has come to be an international interest. Even 
 a rigid quarantine has not been sufficient to make microbes 
 and their carriers respect national frontiers. Reference 
 
 *See L. S. Woolf, International Government, 1916; Francis B. 
 Sayre, Experiments in Internat. Administration, 1919; Paul S. 
 Eeinsch, Public Internat, Unions, 1911. 
 
 294 
 
THE GROWTH OF COMMON INTEREST 295 
 
 was made in an earlier chapter to the problem of yellow 
 fever. For many years New Orleans and the Mississippi 
 Valley were ravaged by this disease, brought by vessels 
 from foreign ports. The sanitary conquest of Havana 
 and Panama called attention to the seed-beds of infection 
 in Central America. In 1919, Nicaragua, Salvador, Gua- 
 temala and Honduras united for the elimination of yellow 
 fever, which only international cooperation could have 
 accomplished. 
 
 During the last hundred years, cholera, like its prede- 
 cessor bubonic plague, has been spreading to Europe from 
 southern Asia. Each great epidemic was followed by an 
 International Conference, which attempted to devise pro- 
 tective measures. In 1892, an agreement was secured by 
 which each nation was obliged to give notification of the 
 outbreak of cholera, and to provide facilities for the hand- 
 ling of actual or suspected cases. International sanitary 
 councils have been established for Turkey, Egypt, Persia 
 and Morocco. These are intended to combat the spread of 
 disease through the annual Mohamimedan pilgrimage. 
 
 In recent years two new epidemics, influenza and infan- 
 tile paralysis, have become a world problem. Dr. Simon 
 Flexner locates the endemic home of infantile paralysis 
 in northwestern Europe, and that of influenza in the bor- 
 der region between Russia and Turkestan. The epidemic 
 waves radiate from these foci. In view of the difficulty 
 of combating these diseases when they have spread over 
 wide areas, he proposes a concerted attack upon them in 
 the original centers of infection. The object would be to 
 destroy the natural seed-beds, as in the case of yellow 
 fever. ^ 
 
 The health of other countries has an economic phase. 
 That nearly 100 per cent of the workers on coffee planta- 
 tions in Brazil and tea estates in India and Ceylon are in- 
 fected with hookworm, may seem a fact of sympathetic but 
 remote interest. Medical treatment of the disease makes a 
 
 ^J. of Am. Med. Assoc, 73, 949, Sept. 27, 1919. 
 
296 CHAOS OE COSMOS? 
 
 difference of from 25 to 50 per cent in tlie efficiency of 
 labor. A group of laborers in Costa Kica, for example, 
 who before cultivated 563 acres of coffee, were able to cul- 
 tivate 750 acres. The control of hookworm therefore af- 
 fects the cost of each cup of tea or coffee that is used the 
 world over. The same holds true of every line of pro- 
 duction and every aspect of public health. One of the 
 great obstacles to the economic reconstruction of Central 
 Europe has been the spread of typhus and other diseases 
 in the wake of war. As Folks said, in regard to the general 
 public health situation: "In 1914 the millennium was 
 on its way. It was not at the door, but it was definitely 
 predictable. The war has postponed it indefinitely." * 
 
 Among the first steps taken by the League of Nations 
 was the opening of an International Health Office at 
 Geneva, intended to take over the Office of Public Health 
 established at Paris in 1907. The International Health 
 Board of the Eockefeller Foundation cooperated in 1919 
 with 17 nations or colonies. In the summer of that year, 
 a League of Ked Cross Societies was formed, to correlate 
 the public health work of 26 nations. Agencies of destruc- 
 tion may be developed by each country in secret. Re- 
 medial measures are open, and free for all the world. 
 
 Medical, scientific and social research is a common en- 
 terprise of the race, for which national boundaries have 
 no meaning. International groups of specialists or re- 
 formers are constantly holding meetings to discuss specific 
 problems. The year before the War saw no less than 174 
 international congresses. The annual of La Vie Inter- 
 nationale listed 371 associations of this character. "Prac- 
 tically every profession, from engineers and architects to 
 nurses and commercial travellers, is represented. Industry 
 and commerce, from Chambers of Commerce to bird- 
 fanciers and cinematograph film makers; labor in some 
 forty separate International Federations; Science, from 
 the powerful Electrotechnical Commission to the Intema- 
 
 • Homer Folks, The Htman Cost of War, 1920, 277. 
 
THE GEOWTH OF COMMOlSr INTEEEST 297 
 
 tional Society for Psychical Research; Medicine, with as 
 many as thirty-nine distinct associations ; Art, Literature, 
 Learning, and Religion have all entered the field of inter- 
 national organisation. Finally, there are innumerable 
 associations of persons working for some special social 
 object, like Women's Suffrage, Temperance, or the sup- 
 pression of prostitution, and who are seeking to attain that 
 object by international action. In this division Morals, 
 Education, and Feminism provide the largest numbers, but 
 the Catholicism of internationalism is well shown by the 
 existence of an ^International Association for the Suppres- 
 sion of Useless Noises' and an ^International Association 
 for the Rational Destruction of Rats.' " * 
 
 Religion is a binding force between nations. Even with 
 the unfortunate doctrinal divisions of Christendom and 
 the alienation of certain classes, the Western nations pos- 
 sess a common heritage of ideas and ideals. They read the 
 same Bible and call on the same Savior. Every important 
 body of churches is represented in more than one country. 
 Though nationalism affected the churches during the War, 
 as it did every form of association, the spirit of Chris- 
 tianity is an influence working strongly for sympathy and 
 cooperation. In organized movements for World Peace 
 there are three principal elements : Feminism, Labor and 
 the Christian Church. And the greatest of these is the 
 Church. 
 
 McDougall, in his Social Psychology, calls attention to 
 the way Art tends to soften and socialize national relations. 
 ITot only is there a constant interchange of artists, and imi- 
 tation of foreign artistic models, running all the way from 
 architecture to fashion in dress. A common admiration 
 binds the Western world together. The great works iif 
 literature, painting or music belong to the race, rather than 
 to the nation which produced them. The tourist, in his 
 pilgrimages to famous shrines, is a true cosmopolitan. 
 
 Even Sport has become international. Since 1844, when 
 
 *Woolf, op, cit, 106. 
 
298 CHAOS OK COSMOS? 
 
 George Seward, an American professional runner, visited 
 England, such competition has become increasingly fre- 
 quent between English-speaking peoples. During the past 
 summer, America welcomed French tennis players, a 
 Erench pugilist, and a Japanese base-ball team. The 
 Olympic Games were revived at Athens in 1916, and are 
 held every four years in a different country. The seventh 
 of these contests occurred at Antwerp in 1920, national 
 teams winning points as follows : United States 212, Fin- 
 land 105, Sweden 95, Britain 92, France 35, Italy 28, 
 South Africa 24, Canada 10, JSTorway 10, Denmark 9, 
 Esthonia 8, 'New Zealand 5, Belgium 5, Australia 5, Hol- 
 land 2, Czecho-Slovakia 3, Luxemburg 1. 
 
 The modem development of Trade and Credit has made 
 the nations of the world mutually dependent. They have 
 shared, as a common trust, the remarkable technical ad- 
 vances which have made possible the cheapening of produc- 
 tion and transportation, the diversifying of consumption, 
 and the expansion of commerce. Man, as E. B. Andrews 
 said, is a particularist in production and a universalist in 
 consumption. The mineral resources of the world are 
 widely distributed. Variations in climate and natural 
 products are paralleled by differences in aptitude and 
 skill. The needs of the nations have come to be reci- 
 procal.^ 
 
 Each country therefore looks to other countries for the 
 supply of needed goods and the marketing of its own sur- 
 plus. Economic conditions abroad affect its own ability to 
 buy and sell. Bad weather in the cotton states of America 
 raises the price of cotton on the Liverpool market, and 
 reduces the number of hands employed in English textile 
 mills. Good crops in the Argentine mean good business 
 for American makers of machinery. Such fluctuations in 
 trade conditions are registered throughout the world in 
 the daily quotations on produce, stocks and monetary ex- 
 
 •Elisha M. Friedman, Internat, Commerce cmd Reoomtruction, 
 1920, 86. 
 
THE GROWTH OF COMMON INTEREST 299 
 
 change. Even in times of peace, cyclic fluctuations occur 
 at frequent intervals. In a period of general prosperity, 
 business optimism and the expansion of industry and credit 
 spread from nation to nation; prices and wages rise the 
 world over. There ensues a period of business depression, 
 when bankers throughout the world curtail their credits, 
 factories close down, and millions of men and women are 
 thrown out of work. If, for rhetorical purposes. Society 
 is likened to a living organism, the international banking 
 system is the upper brain, the mind whose confidence or 
 caution alters the circulation of blood to every cell. 
 
 The World War gave abundant illustration of this de- 
 pendence of one nation on another. Americans have a 
 realizing sense of the way events in a different hemisphere 
 alter their cost of living and means of employment. The 
 dislocation aifected the entire world. Goods formerly pur- 
 chased from the Central Powers must be obtained else- 
 where. Non-essential production was curtailed by the 
 Allies, and imports increased at the expense of the cus- 
 tomary exports. Trade routes were shortened and re- 
 directed. Countries formerly dependent on Europe for 
 their manufactures were compelled to seek new sources of 
 supply or develop substitute industries. While the AUied 
 and neutral nations suffered inconvenience and hardship, 
 the Central Powers found economic isolation fatal. The 
 blockade, which erected dams across the ordinary channels 
 of foreign trade, killed more people through starvation 
 and lowered disease resistance than lost their lives in 
 battle. 
 
 At the close of the War, the Allies faced the problem 
 of an economically prostrate Germany. To degrade her 
 permanently from a trading to an agricultural nation, with 
 the loss of a third of her population, might satisfy the 
 demands of retributive justice. But such a Germany could 
 not pay her bill for damages. And she would cease to be 
 a heavy buyer of goods from Allied countries. No nation 
 can prosper unless its trade rivals are prosperous, because! 
 
300 CHAOS OE COSMOS? 
 
 its rivals are customers as well as competitors. Threats 
 of a trade boycott died down before tbe fact that in 1913 
 the four Central Powers bought from Great Britain $400,- 
 000,000 worth of merchandise, from France $150,000,000, 
 and from the United States $3Y5,000,000.« The back- 
 ground of the Disarmament Conference, which is in session 
 as I write, is an economic prostration so complete and so 
 universal as to compel the attention of the most chauvin- 
 istic diplomat. 
 
 Tariff wars have proved costly experiments. In the 
 early 90's, France raised her rates on Swiss goods approxi- 
 mately 40 per cent, and Switzerland retaliated. The con- 
 flict lasted for two years and a half. "France's losses in 
 this trade war were heavy. The diversion of Swiss com- 
 merce to other countries lost to her millions of francs in 
 railway receipts, ocean freights, and commissions. Aus- 
 tria, Italy, and the United States gained at her expense in 
 the sugar trade, Spain in the wine trade, Italy in the silk 
 trade, Germany and Belgium in metal goods, and the 
 United States in leather. Germany received half of the 
 trade lost by France in ready-made clothing and one-third 
 of that lost in woolen goods. Not until seven years after 
 the close of the trade war did French exports to Switzer- 
 land again equal the exports of the normal years before 
 the trade war." "^ 
 
 Emigration is another phase of the same world prob- 
 lem. To equalize the pressure of population, "men must 
 move or goods must flow." The economic development of 
 the Far East, for example, is likely to cause a situation 
 of increasing international strain. "If the yellow race," 
 as Friedman says, "is to remain out of the white man's 
 lands — and biologically it appears desirable to prevent 
 
 •Friedman, op. cit., 109. 
 
 'Wm. S. Culbertson, Commercial Policy in War Tim^ cmd After, 
 1919, 264. The present tendency appears to be to adopt bargain- 
 ing tariflfs, which, while preventing discrimination and dumping 
 and guarding key-industries, will secure concession from other 
 countries and foster rather tiian hinder the freedom of trade. 
 
THE GEOWTH OF COMMON INTEEEST 301 
 
 fusion and to preserve the distinctive characters of each 
 — the flow of raw materials must be unrestricted and the 
 movement of finished goods not too greatly obstructed." * 
 The militant alternative is not pleasant to contemplate. 
 
 In the interests of communication and trade, the nations 
 of the world have been led to establish such international 
 governments as the Universal Postal Union and the 
 Telegraphic and Eadiotelegraphic Unions. A European 
 Convention regulates the shipment of goods on continental 
 railways. The Automobile Convention of 1909 issues in- 
 ternational licenses and arranges for uniform signpost 
 marks. International commissions control the navigation 
 of the Danube and the Rhine, and many other rivers have 
 been opened to world trade by common agreement. The 
 Sugar Union, formed in 1902, binds the principal Euro- 
 pean countries to abolish sugar bounties, and excessive im- 
 port duties on this staple. The International Institute of 
 Agriculture, with headquarters in Eome, is of special in- 
 terest, as the official delegates of the various governments 
 were allowed to continue their service throughout the War. 
 The Institute issues monthly bulletins on plant diseases 
 and crop statistics. The aim of its founder, Mr. Lubin of 
 California, was to protect the farmers of the world from 
 exploitation through excessive freight rates and the cor- 
 nering of food markets. 
 
 The investment of money has little reference to national 
 boundaries. The bonds of foreign governments and mu- 
 nicipalities are marketed as readily as those of one's own 
 land. Capital reaches out for a share in factories or rail- 
 ways or oil wells on the other side of the world. I open 
 my IsTew York paper and am offered securities in Canada, 
 ^Newf oundland, Mexico, Costa Rica, Dominica, Chile, Bra- 
 zil, the Argentine, China and Japan. 
 
 The common interests of Capital have found expression 
 in world-wide federations of Chambers of Commerce, and 
 
 'Op. cit., 17. Cf, Edwin C. Eckel, Coal, Iron cmd War, 1920, 
 part 4. 
 
30^ CHAOS OR COSMOS? 
 
 of many commercial groups. The International Maritime 
 Committee, for example, made up of associations of ship- 
 ping men in the principal maritime countries, has been 
 able to secure uniform laws in regard to salvage and col- 
 lisions. It is now working to obtain international agree- 
 ments on safety at sea and the through shipment of freight. 
 Other associations have been engaged in standardizing 
 terms and units, as in the electrical industry, and the meth- 
 ods of testing materials or analyzing food stuffs. Inter- 
 national standards have been found necessary for large- 
 scale production and the full development of world trade. 
 
 But the merging of national in international interests 
 has gone very much farther than the question of standards. 
 The ship owners in countries bordering on the Baltic and 
 White Seas found that unregulated competition was cut- 
 ting freights to the point where wood was being carried at 
 a loss. A Conference was formed in 1905, representing 
 considerably over half of the tonnage interested in the 
 trade, only the smaller ship owners remaining outside. 
 Each year the members meet to -^x a binding minimum 
 tariff. Before the War, international trusts and trade 
 agreements controlled the production and sale of a long 
 list of products, from potash and platinum to tobacco and 
 steel rails. 
 
 During the War the Allies found it necessary to pool 
 their industrial resources and means of transportation. In- 
 ternational regulation of trade, and even allocation of fuel 
 and raw materials, has been proposed as a permanent 
 policy. Thus far the organization of the League of [Rations 
 has followed very different lines. But it was interesting to 
 have La Fontaine of Belgium says, in the first League As- 
 sembly : "I consider the earth as a property unique in in- 
 tegrity, from which humanity as a whole must derive full 
 advantage in equal measure." 
 
 Labor is an international interest. Labor groups of 
 different countries are in constant communication, and 
 deeply influenced by one another's programs or successes. 
 
THE GEOWTH OF COMMON INTEREST 303 
 
 Under normal world conditions, workmen have more in 
 common with the workmen of another nation, than they 
 have with the employers of their own nation. Socialism 
 has been international, in the name and spirit of its various 
 organizations. The Trade Unions of the world were fed- 
 erated in 1901, and national boundaries are crossed by 
 many organized groups. Take, for example, the Interna- 
 tional Metal Workers' Federation, with a membership of 
 over a million. One of its aims is to prevent undercutting 
 of wages from country to country. Woolf gives the case 
 of a firm of silversmiths in Brussels seeking workers in 
 Birmingham. The latter asked the British Section of the 
 Federation to find out whether the firm in Brussels was 
 "fair." The required information was at once obtained 
 from the Belgian Section, and forwarded to Birmingham. 
 Governments have been forced to recognize a common 
 labor problem, not only in such a cosmopolitan interest as 
 ocean carriers, but in all lines of productive activity. No 
 attempt has been made, except through protective tariffs, 
 to guard against competition from countries with lower 
 wages and living standards. This matter tends to adjust 
 itself, as in the great increase of wages in Japan with the 
 rise of industrialism. International labor legislation has 
 rather attempted to standardize working conditions, and 
 thus guard progressive nations against competition that 
 would be demoralizing at both ends. The International 
 Association for Labour Legislation ^ has been able to se- 
 cure the adoption of two Conventions. The first, signed 
 by 13 States, including the chief industrial countries of 
 Europe, prohibits night work for women between 10 p. m. 
 
 •Another powerful agency is the International Association to 
 Combat Unemployment, which numbers among its members "8 gov- 
 ernments, 17 national official bodies, 8 provinces, 2 federations of 
 towns, 59 towns, 14 official municipal bodies, 3 federations nationales 
 de placements, 12 bourses de travail, 12 fonds du chCmage, 3 inter- 
 national associations, 15 scientific societies, 6 national federations 
 of employers, 3 professional federations, 4 local federations, 30 
 Labour federations, and individuals belonging to 23 different 
 countries." 
 
304 CHAOS OR COSMOS? 
 
 and 5 a. m. The second, designed to prevent the us© of 
 the deadly white phosphorus in the making of matches, 
 has been ratified hj the principal manufacturing nations, 
 with the exception of Sweden and Japan. 
 
 An International Labor Office and Labor Conference 
 were established by the Peace Treaty, under the following 
 Preamble: ^^Whereas, the League of N'ations has for its 
 object the establishment of universal peace, and such a 
 peace can be established only if it is based upon social jus- 
 tice ; and whereas , conditions of labour exist involving such 
 injustice, hardship and privation to large numbers of 
 people as to produce unrest so great that»the peace and har- 
 mony of the world are imperilled ; and an improvement of 
 those conditions is urgently required : as, for example, by 
 the regulation of the hours of work, including the establish- 
 ment of a maximum working day and week, the regulation 
 of the labour supply, the prevention of unemployment, the 
 provision of an adequate living wage, the protection of the 
 worker against sickness, disease and injury arising out of 
 his employment, the protection of children, young persons 
 and women, provisions for old age and injury, protection 
 of the interests of workers when employed in countries 
 other than their own, recognition of the principle of free- 
 dom of association, the organisation of vocational and tech- 
 nical education and other measures ; whereas also the fail- 
 ure of any nation to adopt humane conditions of labour is 
 an obstacle in the way of other nations which desire to 
 improve the conditions in their own countries; the High 
 Contracting Parties, moved by sentiments of justice and 
 humanity, as well as by the desire to secure the permanent 
 peace of the world, agree to the following": permanent 
 organization specified, which is in active and efficient 
 operation. 
 
 The International Labor Conference held its first meet- 
 ing at Washington, in the summer of 1919. Of 123 dele- 
 gates present, from 35 nations, 73 were appointed by their 
 respective governments, 25 represented employers, and 
 
THE GKOWTH OF COMMON INTEREST 305 
 
 25 represented labor. Six draft Conventions were ap- 
 proved, and recommended to the several nations for 
 adoption. These covered hours of labor, unemployment, 
 night work for women, the employment of women before 
 and after childbirth, and night work for young workers. 
 As described by M. Albert Thomas, the Director of the 
 Labor Office : "The Conference gives definite shape to so- 
 cial reforms of international scope to which national legis- 
 latures may give the force of law. The real compelling 
 force behind the conventions and recommendations of the 
 Conference ... is that of public opinion in every 
 country." ^® 
 
 When we consider the world politically, underneath the 
 apparent conflict of national interests there is a growing 
 community of interests. Commercial relations are pos- 
 sible, only where protection is afforded to the person and 
 property of citizens residing or doing business in another 
 country. The ocean is a common highway. To assure its 
 free use for peaceful commerce, even in time of war, is one 
 of the world's most pressing problems. We are threatened 
 by the disorder and lack of development in the same back- 
 ward countries, tempting the adventurer and the exploiter, 
 who appeal to their national flags for protection. Such a 
 thing as national isolation is no longer possible. Events 
 on the other side of the globe may involve us in diplomatic 
 controversies and the possibility of war. The quarrel be- 
 tween Austria and Serbia drew in one country after an- 
 other, until half the population of the world had taken 
 sides. The United States, which had prided itself on its 
 freedom from entanglement in European politics, found 
 its own house threatened by the conflagration, and was 
 
 ^^Lnhour cbs an International Problem, ed. by E. John Solano, 
 1920, 263. These essays, with the. appendices covering the Labor 
 section of the Peace Treaty, and the agenda of the Washington 
 and Geneva Conferences, will repay careful study. Some other 
 angles to the discussion are supplied by I. F. Ayuwasa, Intemat. 
 Labor Legislation, 1920; Hist. Sv/rvey of Intemat. Action Affecting 
 Labor, U. S. Bur. of Labor Stat's, Bull. 26'8, 1920; Intemat. Labor 
 Legis. amd the 8oo. of Nations, Bull. 254, 1919. 
 
306 CHAOS OE COSMOS? 
 
 obliged to mobilize four million soldiers to help put out 
 the fire in Europe. 
 
 Tbe growing body of International Law is a recognition 
 of the common political interests of nations in their deal- 
 ings with each other. It began with custom and precedent, 
 which students from Grotius onward attempted to put into 
 the form of rules and principles. During the last hundred 
 years, treaties and conventions have given the law of na- 
 tions a constantly more definite basis. European Confer- 
 ences, from the Congress of Vienna in 1815 to the meet- 
 ings at the Hague in 1899 and 1907, were "rudimentary 
 International Legislatures." When 41 sovereign States, 
 for example, ratified the revised Convention of 1907 for 
 the conduct of land warfare, they surrendered to that ex- 
 tent their freedom of action, in order to eliminate unneces- 
 sary barbarity and suffering. The Convention limiting 
 the employment of force for the recovery of contract debts 
 has been ratified by the principal commercial nations. 
 Mention has already been made of other important Con- 
 ventions governing common action in time of peace. The 
 complaint of belligerents in the reeent War that interna- 
 tional laws were being broken and international standards 
 of ethics violated, is a strong witness to the fact that such 
 laws and standards exist and are generally acknowledged. 
 As Lawrence says: "The controversies of one generation 
 produce the undoubted law of the next." ^^ 
 
 The great Powers have repeatedly acted together to 
 settle the affairs of disturbed or threatening territories. 
 Turkey, in its relation to Greece and to the Balkans, has 
 come in for its full share of this joint legislative and po- 
 lice power. Belgium was made a neutral state in 1831, 
 and Luxemburg in 1872. The Congress of Berlin, in 
 1885, determined the relations of the European States to 
 
 "T. J. Lawrence, Prints of Internat. Law, 4th ed., 1910, 15. 
 See also L. Oppenheim, Internat. Law, 3rd ed., 1920; Amos S. Her- 
 shey. Essentials of Internat. Fuilic Law, 1916; Wm. E. Hall, 
 Internat. Law, 7th ed., 1917; A. Pearce Higgins, The Hague Peace 
 Conferences, 1909, with texts of the Conventions. 
 
THE GROWTH OF COMMON INTEREST 307 
 
 the Congo and other parts of Central Africa. The Con- 
 ference of Algeciras attempted to do the same for Morocco, 
 by creating an international control of administration and 
 trade. Map making and policing on a large scale were 
 involved in the Treaty of Versailles. A common policy 
 in regard to China is one of the principal agenda of the 
 Disarmament Conference. 
 
 A start has been made toward an international Judi- 
 ciary. The Permanent Court of Arbitration, proposed by 
 the First Hague Conference, was ratified by 44 nations, 
 representing 91 per cent of the world's population. It 
 maintains a list of available judges, selected by the signa- 
 tory powers. Nations which agree to bring a case before 
 the tribunal, select four judges from this list, and these 
 in turn name an umpire. The award, given by majority 
 vote, is binding on both parties. At the same Conference, 
 provision was made for commissions of enquiry, and 
 friendly mediation by a third power. An International 
 Prize Court was added in 1907. Fifteen judges are ap- 
 pointed by the signatory powers, and serve as a court of 
 final appeal for cases already tried in their national courts. 
 Except as provided by special treaty, arbitration is compul- 
 sory only in prize cases and those involving the collection 
 of contract debts.^^ A Court of Arbitral Justice was pro- 
 posed by the Second Hague Conference. The First League 
 Assembly took steps to put the plan in operation. Ratifica- 
 tion has been secured from 30 nations ; 22 being the mini- 
 mum required. This Court will sit permanently to decide 
 cases brought before it, thus making arbitration simpler 
 and more rapid. 
 
 The stupendous losses involved in modem wars, and the 
 cost of preparedness, have led to a general demand for 
 the proportional reduction of armaments and for some form 
 of international insurance against war. Two recent at- 
 tempts have been made to meet this demand. The first 
 
 "References will be found in Edw. Krehbiel, Nationalism, War 
 and Society, 1916. 
 
SOB CHAOS OR COSMOS? 
 
 was the League of Nations, planned as the foundation of 
 the Versailles Treaty. It is not necessary for me to add 
 to the voluminous discussion of this subject. The history 
 of the League, as a force for shaping future national rela- 
 tions, cannot be written before the event. Whatever its de- 
 fects, and however ill-starred its birth, the world has seen 
 the formation of an international insurance company. And 
 it includes as its stockholders practically all eligible coun- 
 tries, with the exception of the United States. That the 
 League is a going concern is shown by the references I have 
 found it necessary to make to it in the course of this 
 chapter, and by the number of important questions it has 
 settled in the first two years of its life. 
 
 The second attempt, which will be completed before my 
 book is published, is the Conference on Disarmament and 
 Problems of the Pacific, which assembled at Washington 
 in November, 1921, in response to the invitation of the 
 United States government. The proposals for naval dis- 
 armament are too recent to require comment. If carried 
 out, they will practically put an end to offensive warfare 
 on the sea. Ajiother notable feature of the Conference, 
 by contrast with that of Versailles, is its responsiveness to 
 popular sentiment. Not only have the sessions at Wash- 
 ington awakened a remarkable interest throughout a war- 
 weary and tax-burdened world. The decisions to be made 
 appear to depend largely on the current of public opinion 
 in the various countries involved. 
 
 It is important to note that the centrifugal tendencies of 
 nationalism are more than balanced today by a centripetal 
 tendency toward the larger grouping of nations. No coun- 
 try feels strong enough to stand alone; it finds safety only 
 in ententes and alliances. The new Baltic States are a 
 case in point. Each is the product of a strong national- 
 istic movement. They had many conflicting interests, 
 which led to actual or threatened strife. But common 
 interest proved stronger. Hardly had peace treaties been 
 
THE GEOWTH OF COMMON INTEREST 309 
 
 signed, when a Conference of Baltic States met at Riga, 
 on Aug. 3, 1920. Representatives were present from Fin- 
 land, Poland, Lithuania, Letvia and Esthonia. A treaty 
 for compulsory arbitration was adopted, and steps taken to 
 work out a common customs and railway policy. This 
 centripetal tendency is likely to grow stronger in future 
 years, because of the handicaps in economic isolation. 
 
 Other centripetal tendencies are found in the fact al- 
 ready noted, that the grouping of both Capital and Labor 
 is coming to be along horizontal rather than vertical lines. 
 The larger industries have more to gain from the forma- 
 tion of world-wide trusts than from the pushing of exclu- 
 sive national interests. Peace and good order mean in- 
 creased purchasing power. Increased purchasing power in 
 any country means a better market for the world's goods. 
 The working class movement is strongly opposed to large 
 armaments, secret diplomacy, and colonial exploitation. 
 Governments have been inclined to consider the interests 
 of individual traders and investors. But the growing 
 strength of the workers as a political force compels in- 
 creasing attention to the interests of the whole community. 
 And in the declarations of the British and other labor 
 groups, during and after the War, "the whole community" 
 refers to the world and not to any single nation. 
 
 In national as in all other human relations, Man learns 
 only through social experience. Whether he will profit 
 by experience depends on many psychological factors. 
 Such advances as are made are not in straight lines, or at 
 equal rates of speed. Certain nations lead, while others 
 lag. The idealist may grow impatient as he studies the 
 appraisal of internationalism which I have given in this 
 chapter. A real Federation of the World is a dream of 
 the distant future. The diplomacy of the old school is still 
 very much in evidence. The possibility of recurring wars 
 is far from ended. But it is clear from the record that 
 men, in their national groups, have begun to think in in- 
 
310 CHAOS OR COSMOS? 
 
 temational terms and practice world citizensliip. Progress 
 may be slow and incomplete. But we are learning to live 
 in a social Universe, to adjust ourselves to a God of justice 
 and goodwill. The civilized world has gone far toward 
 recognizing tlie Christian principle of common interest. 
 
XXV. 
 
 THE FUTURE. 
 
 When a traveller returns from a tour of the world, he 
 finds it helpful to record his general impressions. We set 
 out in this book to examine in a scientific spirit the Uni- 
 verse in which we live, in order to find if possible a basis 
 for personal and social ethics. We have reached the end 
 of the journey. In this chapter I propose to put together 
 what I regard as the result of our search. 
 
 Jesus' idea of the Universe has proved adequate as a 
 working hypothesis. It is a searchlight illuminating hu- 
 man life and history. Christianity, the climax of the long 
 religious evolution of the race, appears from our study as 
 an essential element in civilization. We cannot consider 
 it a survival of superstition, or a poetical addition to hu- 
 man thought, which may be dispensed with in the affairs 
 of practical life. The religion of Jesus represents a ma- 
 tured interpretation of the world in which man finds him- 
 self. It is the fulfillment of that instinct which leads all 
 life, from the lowest to the highest, to adjust itself to the 
 environment. It is the reaction of man to an essentially 
 Christian Universe, the attitude of confidence, teachable- 
 ness and enthusiasm which are necessary for the highest 
 social development. 
 
 The interpretation of Jesus stands in sharpest contrast 
 with the view of the Universe found in other religious 
 systems, and in much historic and contemporary Chris- 
 tianity. Elsewhere we have the separation of God and 
 the world, a completed creation, a problem of evil which 
 
 311 
 
312 CHAOS OR COSMOS? 
 
 can be solved only by Divine intervention, a situation of 
 human helplessness that gives no encouragement for hope 
 or effort. With Jesus, on the other hand, we find a present 
 and unescapable God, a continuous creation, God and man 
 working together for the completion and betterment of the 
 human world, no situation final and no evil insuperable, 
 the future as hopeful as the character of God and the 
 strength of our own effort. The first theory leads to pes- 
 simism and social stagnation. The Christian theory, be- 
 cause of its truer interpretation of the Universe and its 
 incentive for human endeavor, is the only religion which 
 can have permanent value for the modem world. 
 
 Jesus applies to the Universe and our relations with it 
 the four great ideas of Spirit, Democracy, Kighteousness 
 and Goodwill. 
 
 The present is an opportune time to substitute a spir- 
 itualistic for a materialistic philosophy of life and history. 
 The World War and the industrial conflict have opened our 
 eyes to the practical futility of Materialism. This dis- 
 covery coincides with the collapse of its theoretical basis. 
 I ask the reader to recall the series of scientific conclu- 
 sions brought out in the earlier part of our study: the 
 new dynamic conception of Matter, the relativity of Space, 
 the fundamental identity* of the physical and organic, the 
 perfecting of living mechanism, the gradual adjustment 
 of man's mind to the external world. How remarkably 
 these conclusions fit into Jesus' conception of the Universe. 
 We are given the outlines of a consistent working philoso- 
 phy. The Universe reveals the activity of a Being essen- 
 tially mental or spiritual (if we may use human analogies) 
 rather than inert or mechanical, with Whom development 
 is a natural self-expression, and social progress a definite 
 goal rather than an accident. From nebula to star, from 
 sun to planet, from electron to molecule, from amino acid 
 to living cell, from microoganism to man, we see one 
 characteristic process of Divine unfolding, as the Universe 
 becomes increasingly differentiated. It is not such a proc- 
 
THE FUTURE 313 
 
 ess as our limited intelligence might have predicted, but 
 far more varied and full of interest and wonder. 
 
 A fire-mist and a planet, 
 
 A crystal and a cell, 
 A jelly-fish and a saurian, 
 
 And CAves where cave-men dwell. 
 Then a sense of law and beauty 
 
 And a face turned from the clod, — 
 Some call it Evolution, 
 
 And others call it God. 
 
 With the appearance of Man, as a conscious independent 
 unit, the process changes, as far as our planet is concerned. 
 An Absolute Monarchy gives place to a social and demo- 
 cratic Universe. After a possible intermediate stage in the 
 case of lower organisms, the Monism which we find in the 
 external world becomes a Pluralism, a cooperation between 
 men and God, both in physical creation and in the develop- 
 ment of man and society. Such a distinction is not based 
 on abstract theory, but on our inductive study of human 
 activity.^ A good many philosophies have met shipwreck 
 through the failure to note this change. They sought to 
 explain the whole process in terms of a Monism, an Abso- 
 lute, and the facts of human life stubbornly refused to fit 
 the theory. Or they failed to grasp the idea of the external 
 Universe as an expression of God's activity and character, 
 the fact that, for practical purposes, God and the World 
 constitute one whole to which man must adjust his life. 
 
 This democratic character of the present Universe is of 
 the greatest practical importance. It gives a cosmic value 
 to every human function and activity : reproduction, health, 
 character building, the tilling of the soil, the achievement 
 of science and beauty, the creation of a wholesome social 
 environment, the participation in industrial and national 
 relations and their proper direction. We are not called 
 
 ^ See chapters 7 to 12. 
 
314 CHAOS OE COSMOS? 
 
 on to submit to "the bludgeonings of Chance," or to the 
 decrees of a Divine Autocrat. We are partners in a cosmic 
 enterprise, in which at every turn we have the opportunity 
 to cooperate with God. To do this effectively we must 
 learn His character and His laws. The Divine work of 
 creation gains immensely in interest when we have a 
 share in it, and a responsibility for the outcome. We know 
 that our own life and the world of today and tomorrow 
 will be what we help to make it. Our earthly existence 
 is not "an epileptic fit between two nothings." It is the 
 challenge of a great adventure. 
 
 It is through this partnership relation between man and 
 God that we are able to learn the Kighteousness of the 
 Universe. There are social laws, just as truly as there are 
 physical and biological laws. Discovered through reli- 
 gious experience, these principles underlying human so- 
 ciety may be verified by observation and experiment. Our 
 book has attempted in a provisional way to make this ob- 
 servation, and to sum up the result of the experiments that 
 are available in the conduct of individuals, groups and na- 
 tions. Socially the Universe grows ever more complex; 
 but its laws have not changed. And its laws are the reflec- 
 tion of its character. God's laws today are what they al- 
 ways have been. The laws of motion were true long ages 
 before !N'ewton formulated them. Twenty-five hundred 
 years ago it took a Hebrew prophet to perceive God's moral 
 laws. But today these are evident to the man on the street, 
 if he will open his eyes to the most characteristic features 
 of our civilization, and the conditions of lasting success 
 and failure. 
 
 Jesus' most pregnant discovery was that morality and 
 goodwill are not contrary to Nature, but in accord with 
 jN^ature. These motives take their rise in the primitive in- 
 stincts of parenthood and association, which are as natural 
 and dominant as self-assertion and self-gratification. In 
 the experience and discipline of the race, morality and 
 goodwill have become the determinative factors in human 
 
THE FUTURE 315 
 
 life. The development of civilized society is due to the 
 triumph of reason and common interest over force and 
 selfishness. In the long run, advancement depends on 
 the reactions which come from favorahle treatment ac- 
 corded to other individuals. The economic changes of the 
 last century have greatly strengthened the idea of mutual 
 dependence and service. Good morals are good business. 
 The practice of honor, integrity and consideration brings 
 definite advantage to the individual, under normal circum- 
 stances. I consider this a legitimate induction from our 
 survey of the wide range of human activity. As to why 
 such qualities should be an asset in daily life, the only sat- 
 isfactory explanation is that of Jesus. They are grounded 
 in the very nature of God. They are an adjustment to 
 our Divine Environment. 
 
 That Jesus has given a true interpretation of the Uni- 
 verse, is confirmed by our study of industrial and national 
 relations. All behavior has a biological basis. It repre- 
 sents the interaction of the organism with its environment, 
 a response to the conditions under which its life is spent 
 Inherited instincts, which arose far back in evolutionary 
 history, have been disciplined and coordinated by man's 
 experience in society. Thus the laws of social ethics have 
 a two-fold aspect. They represent an adjustment to the 
 Universe and a cooperation with its physical and moral 
 forces. They express at the same time the art of human 
 behavior. Through all forms of association we have 
 traced the principle of common interest. The action of 
 one group toward another calls out responses which may be 
 predicted with a considerable degree of accuracy. To 
 secure goodwill, with its substantial advantages, it is neces- 
 sary to consider the responses, partly instinctive, partly 
 reasoned and ethical, on which such favorable result is con- 
 ditioned. This general law of behavior holds good whether 
 we consider the production of goods, the cooperation of 
 subject peoples, or the political and commercial intercourse 
 of nations. Group reactions* are complicated by sentiment, 
 
316 CHAOS OR COSMOS? 
 
 prejudice, variations in leadership, and the strength of 
 special interests. But broadly speaking we may say that 
 the industry or nation which substitutes dishonesty, injus- 
 tice or selfishness for honesty, justice and mutual service, 
 is violating the laws of Behavior and running counter to 
 the Universe. Because of the solidarity of hiunan society, 
 and the character of the God who determines the environ- 
 ment for society, such a course will not only fail to attain 
 its end. The failure will bring a dislocation and embitter- 
 ment that threaten the very existence of civilization. The 
 tragedy of the World War is not an isolated phenomenon. 
 
 How are we to define the task upon which ^s a race we 
 are engaged ? From a historical standpoint I doubt if it 
 is capable of adequate definition or description. It is prob- 
 able that the social order which is being developed upon 
 our planet will always be experimental and partial, rather 
 than fixed and ideal. From the very fact that it is develop- 
 ing, its outlines must of necessity change from generation 
 to generation. We may regard the Kingdom or Republic 
 of God as the cosmic enterprise which God and men, as 
 far as they cooperate with Him, are working out, slowly 
 and with infinite struggle and sacrifice, through the years 
 of our planetary life and the unknown future. It is an 
 achievement rather than an evolution. It is not a finished 
 order that may be brought down from heaven to earth. 
 It may not be even an attainable goal. It is not a ter- 
 minus, but a pathway; a mountain trail up which the 
 race is painfully climbing, guided by the stars ; a growing 
 brotherhood ; a fellowship of endeavor, in which Man does 
 not strive alone; a Divinely guided becoming of persons 
 and societies. 
 
 In one direction, however, it is possible to make the 
 social goal more definite. While the social order is a 
 variable, man himself is a constant. Human society is not 
 an organism ; this analogy has been very much overworked. 
 It is rather the organized relation of many independent 
 organic units, gathered into groups according to their 
 
THE FUTURE 317 
 
 diiferent interests, habits and desires. From the biologi- 
 cal standpoint, which I have tried to keep throughout our 
 book, the objective in human life is the education of the 
 individual in knowledge of the Universe and ability to 
 adjust himself to it. 
 
 This position is in harmony with what our study has 
 shown as to the importance -of the human unit in relation 
 to God. Personality is thus both the goal and the means 
 of the creative process. For Jesus, the chief end of man 
 is to know God and cooperate with Him. And the main 
 object of such cooperation is the cultivation of human 
 powers and human character. The fundamental principle 
 of Ethics may be stated as the highest possible develop- 
 ment of personality for the greatest number. The paradox 
 of Christianity, that self-development requires self-forget- 
 f ulness, is a reflection of the solidarity of society. We can- 
 not permanently raise ourselves, without raising the other 
 environing lives that exert such an influence upon our own. 
 An exclusive devotion to one's own training would atrophy 
 the Christian virtues, which are primarily social virtues. 
 Only through mutual service can we fully adapt our- 
 selves to a social and Divine world. 
 
 A new emphasis on the individual has come with the 
 growth of the democratic idea. It is dawning upon us 
 that the making of tools and increase of production are 
 valuable chiefly as they result in making better men. This 
 is a task that is present as well as future. Our problem 
 is not to make super-men. Fifty thousand years from 
 now we are likely to have about the same human elements, 
 the same instincts, the same range of intelligence quo- 
 tients, to deal with. The task of each generation is to de- 
 velop the latent possibilities in the men and women of 
 that generation. By this the attainment of each age is to 
 be judged. The degree of success which we have reached 
 in our cooperation with God, must be measured not pri- 
 marily by material civilization or the form of the social 
 order, but by the kind of men and women which that civili- 
 
318 CHAOS OK COSMOS? 
 
 zation and that social order are producing, in the midst 
 of their historic development. 
 
 The limits to our enterprise appear to be set by Man 
 rather than by the Universe. The earth gives every indi- 
 cation of being good for an indefinite period of 
 social development. For at least one hundred million 
 years our planet has kept substantially its present atmos- 
 phere and hydrosphere, temperature range, and other con- 
 ditions suitable for organic life. There is no physical 
 reason why the status quo might not be preserved for an- 
 other million centuries. A collision with some other 
 heavenly body is possible, but not probable. According to 
 Arrhenius, the supply of carbonic acid gas is increasing 
 rather than diminishing, with promise of milder climates 
 in the northern regions and more abundant crops. ^ The 
 fuel supply stored on the earth is undoubtedly limited. 
 Long, however, before our coal and oil are exhausted, we 
 shall be developing heat and power, not only from water- 
 falls and tides, but from the sun's rays and from intra- 
 atomic energy. Exhaustion of our beds of iron ore might 
 be made up by the discovery of adequate substitutes for 
 steel. The supply of certain food elements may reach 
 a point beyond which increase is impossible. But any 
 limitation resulting would be on population rather than on 
 life itself. 
 
 One aspect of the future, the immortality of the indi- 
 vidual, I cannot discuss in detail in this volume. While 
 a study of abnormal psychic phenomena is likely to throw 
 light on the subject, it is impossible to weigh such evidence 
 until we have recovered from our present hysteria over 
 supposed communications with the dead. I have consistr 
 ently avoided any definition of consciousness. The whole 
 problem of Personality, human and Divine, is deferred to 
 a later book. Let me remind the reader that the question 
 o£ human immortality is another phase of the problem 
 of Monism and Pluralism. It has to do with soul value 
 ^ Worlds m the Making, 61. 
 
THE FUTTJEE 319 
 
 rather than with specific soul substance. We live in a 
 spiritual not a material Universe. Man's body is a com- 
 ponent part of that Universe.^ Man's mind, on the other 
 hand, we have been led to consider as a separate unit in 
 the work of creation, a conscious and controlling entity. 
 Does this independent and cooperative relation in which 
 the human unit stands to God, continue after the disinte- 
 gration of the organism ? That in brief is the problem of 
 immortal life. 
 
 If we accept the position that the fullest perfecting of 
 the individual is the prime end of the creative process 
 which we see going on around us, certain facts are at once 
 apparent Man's powers are only partially developed dur- 
 ing his earthly existence. Studies in hypnotism and kin- 
 dred phenomena give us a glimpse of vastly greater pos- 
 sibilities.* The heights of human character are attained 
 only by the few. It is legitimate to assume, as Jesus does, 
 that the distinct yet cooperative existence which God gives 
 to man during his organic life, is of sufficient importance 
 to be continued after the discarding of the bodily machine. 
 There is nothing in the Universe as we know it that bars 
 the way for such a faith. The average healthy-minded 
 person believes that it is worth while for man to live. It 
 would seem equally worth while for him to keep on living. 
 Our concern in this book has been with the principles 
 underlying the success of social and political movements, 
 rather than with predictions or panaceas. Christianity 
 was not committed at the beginning, and cannot be com- 
 mitted today, to any specific plan of social and economic 
 organization. It is acting as a powerful leaven. Whether 
 the present order will burst or merely expand under such 
 fermentation, remains to be seen. The shaping of the 
 social order of the future, in the light of what we know of 
 man in his relation to the Universe, is a problem which 
 will demand the best intellectual effort of our own and f u- 
 
 *See particularly chapters 7 and 11. 
 *See my Unfolding Universe, 253. 
 
320 CHAOS OR COSMOS? 
 
 ture generations. "What Jesus calls tlie Kingdom of God 
 is not a Utopia. It is a future hope, but it is also a present 
 reality. It is an imperfect human society, slowly learning 
 to adjust itself to a divine Environment. The situation is 
 complicated by individual differences, desires, habits and 
 prejudices. Men learn only through wide and often costly 
 experiment. The rapid progress of the last few centuries, 
 the slower advance of the preceding millenniums, is set 
 in a perspective of long ages in which man's life and 
 struggle brought only a limited and unstable adjustment 
 to God. As social experience grows, as we become more 
 familiar with the laws of the Universe, as this experience 
 crystallizes into habits of thought and action, we may look 
 forward to a more just, efficient and peaceful world. But 
 even so, human nature will adjust itself very imperfectly 
 to the Divine laws which underlie Society. 
 
 In the development of individual character, we must 
 expect to meet the same frequent failure. It is this which 
 constitutes the crucifixion of God, and of those who have 
 caught something of His vision of the moral possibilities 
 of man. The development of the individual, like that of 
 the social order, is an achievement rather than an evolution. 
 Man as an organism is complete. Man as a social unit 
 must be made anew, for better or worse, in each genera- 
 tion. The tragic mistakes of human life and history are 
 perhaps inevitable. They are a necessary consequence of 
 the method which God follows, of revealing Himself 
 through man's self-discipline and acquired cooperation. 
 As far as such failures are due to the lack of personal ef- 
 fort and discipline, we must charge them to the moral 
 profit-and-loss account of the Universe. On the other hand, 
 it is the task of Society to reduce to the lowest point the 
 failures which are due to living conditions, social environ- 
 ment, and the lack of proper education and guidance. Our 
 common business is to study, and as far as possible to 
 remedy, the fundamental causes of low standards, misery, 
 vice and crime. In this work of social betterment, as our 
 
THE FUTUEB 321 
 
 study of Providence has shown, we can count on the active 
 cooperation of the Universe. Back of our human struggles 
 stands the Christ-like God; the Servant of Humanity, to 
 use Isaiah's term; the All-Father of Jesus' teaching, who 
 bears on His heart the sin and suffering of the world. 
 
 In earlier chapters we have noted in detail the part 
 which human cooperation with God has played in the per- 
 fecting of mental and physical tools, the development of 
 the food supply, the organizing of industry. Out of this 
 growing knowledge of the Universe and its laws has come 
 our vast and complex material civilization. And through 
 the prevention of accidents and the science of bacteriology, 
 the course of Providence is increasingly under man's con- 
 trol. In the field of social relations, we must humbly ac^ 
 knowledge our failure. The excessive optimism over hu- 
 man achievement, of which we may have been guilty in 
 the early years of the century, has been dispelled by later 
 events. Xo one living in 1921 would be likely to call this 
 a well-ordered or successful world. Our failure is the 
 failure of social science. We have not learned to know 
 the Universe in which we live. We have misread its char- 
 acter. We have failed to follow the clue that Christianity 
 has given. 
 
 The progressive social tendencies and experiments which 
 I have outlined in the chapters on Industry are beginning 
 to be interpreted by the study of Behavior, and will in 
 time affect social theory. The same scientific treatment 
 may be hoped for in the field of national behavior. The 
 moral laws of the Universe are natural, not sentimental. 
 They are our generalization from action and reaction in 
 the personal sphere, as gravitation or light pressure or 
 crystallization or osmosis are generalizations from action 
 and reaction in the physical sphere. When we come to 
 know and follow the moral laws of the Universe, as we 
 have learned to know and follow the laws of physics and 
 biology, of health and sanitation, our adjustment to God 
 and our cooperation with Him will bring equally striking 
 
322 CHAOS OR COSMOS? 
 
 results in industry and world politics. We shall be in a 
 position to control social forces, as we now control physical 
 and biological forces. In this lies the hope of the future. 
 Along such lines we must seek a solution of the many vex- 
 ing problems of the present. It is inconceivable that the 
 race which has conquered the world through natural sci- 
 ence, will continue to meet shipwreck through its failure 
 to master the far simpler and equally natural science of 
 human relations. 
 
 In this book I have treated Christianity as an intel- 
 lectual interpretation of the world. But religion is more 
 than a working hypothesis, a practical philosophy of life. 
 The mere acceptance of Jesus' view of the Universe is not 
 Christianity. The Christian reaction to the Universe in- 
 volves a personal faith, an acting out of its interpretation 
 of the world, an emotional response capable of immense 
 dynamic power. Important as is Jesus' theory of a spir- 
 itual and moral Cosmos, this is overshadowed by the loy- 
 alty, the ethical and social enthusiasm, which he has been 
 able to inspire in his followers. The remarkable feature 
 of Christianity is not its program for human life, but its 
 ability to realize that program. 
 
 If the Christian religion, like historical religions of 
 earlier ages, can be made to represent the attitude of civ- 
 ilized peoples toward the Universe, the gain both to Eeli- 
 gion and to Civilization is almost incalculable. The reli- 
 gion of authority has passed, or is passing. It is out of 
 harmony with the modern spirit of democracy and free 
 enquiry. But that spirit encourages and demands a reli- 
 gion which trusts in and cooperates with the Universe. The 
 collapse of philosophical materialism comes at a time when 
 we have begun to recover the Christianity of Jesus. Faith 
 is essential to life, and religious belief and expression are 
 the soil in which it normally grows. Our leaders in pure 
 and applied Science, in social service and social philoso- 
 phy, have frequently shown a devotion, a self-effacement, 
 a loyalty to truth, a breadth of vision, that are truly, if un- 
 
THE FUTUKE 323 
 
 consciously, religious. It would be most unfortunate if 
 such qualities and satisfactions should be limited to a few 
 specialists. Their leadership in human progress will avail, 
 only if the average man, whatever the degree of his en- 
 lightenment, has a child-like faith in the God who is back 
 of all experience, the sense of a great purpose, a feeling 
 that he is engaged in an enterprise in which all his in- 
 stincts may find expression, and on whose outcome depend 
 the issues of his own and other lives, present and to be. 
 
 Of the social value of such an attitude there can be no 
 question. Without it, as recent events have shown, the 
 structure of human society lacks the cement which will 
 hold it together. Let me again emphasize what this means, 
 from the standpoint of Biology. Whatever is of perma- 
 nent value to society represents a successful adjustment 
 of the human organism to its environment. Religious 
 faith is true because it is necessary. It constitutes the 
 highest form of man's adaptation to the Universe. We 
 know that the world is a Cosmos rather than a Chaos, 
 because no other attitude of mind will enable the race to 
 survive. 
 
 As we look backward over the centuries, and forward 
 to the future of the race, we may note certain features 
 that are bright with promise. On the highway of Human- 
 ity, the marks of direction and progress which I distin- 
 guish are (1) the lengthening of human life; (2) the eco- 
 nomic emancipation of the individual, with its outcome 
 in the democratic movement; and (3) the growth of soli- 
 darity, with the corresponding change in ethical standards 
 and release of human powers. 
 
 1. Our forefathers lived under the constant shadow of 
 disease and death. When we consider the dangers of 
 childbirth, the high infant mortality, the short average 
 length of life, the constant depletion of vitality through 
 malaria and other ailments, the epidemics which swept 
 over the civilized world, the prevalence of war and famine, 
 we find an explanation of the atmosphere of fear and gloom 
 
324 CHAOS OR COSMOS? 
 
 so largely characteristic of human history. This attitude 
 was reflected in religion. Even the Christian carved the 
 skull and cross-bones on the graves of the departed, as a 
 reminder of mortality. Man's earthly life was a vale of 
 tears, a period of trial and probation. His aim was not 
 to improve conditions, but to escape the punishment of 
 guilt, and win the real life which was to begin in an es- 
 sentially different existence. 
 
 The recent conflict may have temporarily wiped out the 
 world's surplus. The shadows of war, famine and plague 
 are still upon us. But we have come to realize that they 
 are cast by clouds of man's own making, which in time may 
 be dispelled. Under normal world conditions, the situation 
 is vastly different from that of even two generations ago. 
 To detect the change, let us for the moment eliminate the 
 War, and step backward to 1912, or forward to 1932. 
 We live, as Patten says, in an economic era of surplus 
 rather than of deficit.^ With the increase of the world's 
 food supply and the improvements in transportation and 
 exchange, the danger of starvation has been eliminated 
 from civilized countries. We are learning how to escape 
 the handicaps of disease and malnutrition. Human life 
 is free to round out its development For those whose 
 income matches the cost of living, death is no longer a fre- 
 quent and ever-expected visitor. And these outward 
 changes are reflected in our attitude. The atmosphere of 
 modem life, at its best, is one of cheerfulness, of enjoy- 
 ment, of eager striving. We are coming to think, with 
 Jesus, in terms of Life rather than of Death. We live in 
 the present, and look on a future life as the continuation 
 rather than the antithesis of the present. This change 
 has brought us closer to the spirit of Christianity, which 
 we have seen reason to claim as the true spirit of the Uni- 
 verse. It is aiding us in the great task to which we are 
 set, of making men, of developing the possibilities inherent 
 in human life. 
 ' Simon N. Patten, "New Basis of Civilization, 1907. 
 
THE FUTUEE 326 
 
 2. The most striking movement in the history of the 
 last few centuries is the emancipation of the individual. 
 Slavery broke down, largely because slave labor was so in- 
 efficient that it could not compete with free labor. Autoc- 
 racy in industry is giving way for the same reason. The 
 employer who must bait or drive his workmen, cannot 
 compete with one whose workmen are conscious partners 
 in the enterprise. The world-wide revolutionary movement 
 of the past few years, though its outcome in Russia has 
 been the reverse of democracy, represents the determina- 
 tion of the unskilled or semi-skilled laborer to assert his 
 own will and express his own personality. It is just these 
 classes whose instincts have been repressed or distorted. 
 However costly the social experiments which this new free- 
 dom may bring in its train, the net result of the change 
 must be the humanizing of industrial relations, and a 
 development of latent and hitherto unsuspected capacities 
 in the individual. The emancipation of woman represents 
 a movement in the same direction. 
 
 Democracy is giving us a new viewpoint. In our the- 
 ories of social organization and activity, we have not only 
 ceased to talk about the divine right of kings, but we have 
 ceased to talk about the right of the few to rule by virtue 
 of their material wealth. Law and justice begin to register 
 a change of emphasis from property rights to human rights, 
 from privileged groups to society taken as a whole. We 
 test gituations and remedies by their effect on individual 
 meA and women. Charity is coming to merge into a larger 
 social service, whose aim is not a dole to the unfortunate, 
 but the cure of conditions which have proved a handicap 
 to normal living. Our treatment of criminals is no longer 
 pimitive but corrective. 
 
 Education is feeling the effect of the same impetus. Free 
 instruction of all children has come to be^an accepted func- 
 tion of the state. The age of compulsory school attendance 
 is constantly rising. The modern teacher does not aim to 
 give a modicum of compressed information, but to develop 
 
326 CHAOS OE COSMOS? 
 
 the personality of the child, and fit him to take part in 
 the complex reactions and activities of adult life. Repres- 
 sion is giving place to the cultivation of self-expression, 
 and a much more normal personality is the result. The 
 spirit of Democracy is forcing a change in our conception 
 of secondary education. Hitherto this has heen thought of 
 as the preparation of the favored few to enjoy the perqui- 
 sites of leisure, while the mass, if trained at all, were 
 trained as artisans to do the work of the world. The new 
 Pedagogy looks on all secondary education as vocational. 
 Each youth, whatever his parentage or his inherited ca- 
 pacity, is to he fitted to meet the responsihilities of citizen- 
 ship, and the equally exacting demands of modem indus- 
 try. The aim is to develop initiative rather than 
 conformity, resourcefulness in new emergencies in place 
 of a narrowly specialized skill, an appreciation of life and 
 history rather than a narrowly classical culture. 
 
 3. The Industrial Era has brought a new social soli- 
 darity. In place of a society where the average family 
 produced all the necessities of life, and was relatively 
 independent of other families, we have a society whose 
 members are engaged in specialized occupations, and de- 
 pendent on one another for the supplying of their needs. 
 *'In a civilized country," writes an efficiency engineer, "we 
 are all buying and selling service. . . . Likewise our value 
 to the community is measured by the service we render." * 
 
 In former times, the Christian virtues expressed and cul- 
 tivated tended to be those of a narrow individualism. With 
 the growing inter-dependence of modem life, we are com- 
 ing to appreciate Jesus' principle that the individual can 
 reach his highest development only through association. 
 The virtues we cultivate are social virtues. In order to 
 live together and carry forward our common tasks, we 
 need such qualities as consideration, honesty, justice, loy- 
 alty, social responsibility, and the spirit of service. Law 
 and government rest today on this foundation, as do trade 
 
 "H. L. Gantt, Indust. Leadership, 1916, 18. 
 
THE FUTUEE 327 
 
 and banking. Practices which were regarded without 
 scruple, even a generation ago, bankers and business men 
 now seek to purge from their ranks. 
 
 We are beginning to look on Industry as a form of 
 mutual service. The organization of labor represents the 
 socializing of the laborer, not merely in his recognition of 
 group instincts and desires, but in the responsbility for 
 production which the most advanced labor groups are com- 
 ing to assume. The new principle of compulsory insur- 
 ance, by which the cost of accident (and to some extent of 
 sickness, unemployment and old age), is borne by the in- 
 dustry as a whole, is bringing to the employer a new re- 
 sponsibility for the conditions under which production is 
 carried on. It is in his daily tasks that man chiefly finds 
 and develops his personality. Relieved in a measure from 
 the incubus of industrial fear, living under wholesome 
 conditions, inspired by a share in the direction of indus- 
 trial processes, and with the machine as a servant to re- 
 lease him from drudgery, it will be possible for the hand- 
 worker to recover the sense of joy in labor, the pride of 
 craftsmanship, the full expression of his instincts which 
 is essential to normal human development. The short- 
 comings of our industrial era — ^the poverty, the over- 
 crowding, the glaring inequalities, which to a large extent 
 may be regarded as accidents, due to the hasty and imper- 
 fect adjustment of Society to new conditions — should not 
 blind us to the moral possibilities in social solidarity, 
 which we have hardly begun to realize. 
 
 The growth of national inter-dependence is likewise 
 breaking down many barriers, and raising ethical stand- 
 ards. The predatory nation is no longer regarded as an 
 adventurer who needs no other credentials than success, but 
 as an outlaw. When we compare the recent world conflict 
 with the Thirty Years War, for example, we realize the 
 change three hundred years have brought. Motives and 
 methods of warfare which once were taken as a matter of 
 couxee, now are condemned by the conscience of the world. 
 
338 CHAOS OE COSMOS? 
 
 iN'ations are still tempted to exploit weaker peoples. But 
 the unfavorable reactions of those exploited, and the growth 
 of nationalist movements, are setting fatal limits to the 
 power of the strong. Kace prejudice yields slowly. Yet 
 even this may be softened by acquaintance and sympathy, 
 and dissolved by the principle of common interest, which, 
 in the closely-knit world of modem intercourse, prevents 
 any race from rising to a permanently higher economic and 
 moral level than that of the other races with which it is in 
 contact. The raising of belated races through the guidance 
 and encouragement of those more fortunate, presents a 
 well nigh limitless field for future human development. 
 
 We have found the world not a Chaos, but a unified 
 and ordered Cosmos, to whose physical and moral laws man 
 must adapt himself, and whose possibilities he may help 
 make real. To belong to such a Cosmos makes life su- 
 premely worth living, whatever its incidents or accidents. 
 To discover the laws of a Christian Universe is our duty 
 and our right. Th© highest and most comprehensive of 
 all vocations is to be a partner with God in the making 
 of men. 
 
APPENDICES 
 
APPENDIX A. 
 
 INDEX TO BIBLE REFEREN^CES IN CHAPTER I. 
 
 References are to the Serial Footnotes. 
 Matthew 4:4 17 Matthew 
 
 4:8-11 128 
 
 5:3 28, 148 
 
 5:4 64 
 
 5:5 157 
 
 5:6 46 
 
 5:7 53, 113 
 
 5:8 47, 102 
 
 5:9 52 
 
 5:10-12 28, 50 
 
 5:13-16 69, 111 
 
 5:17-20 45 
 
 5:21-22 51, 116 
 
 5:21-26 121 
 
 5:21-37 7, 36, 71 
 
 5:23-24 48 
 
 5:25-26 52 
 
 5:27-28 8 
 
 5:27-32 47, 102 
 
 5:38-42 71, 101, 121 
 
 5:43-48 71, 101, 122 
 
 5:44-45 55, 107 
 
 5:46-47 145 
 
 5:48 45 
 
 6:1-18 7, 9, 123 
 
 6:6 108 
 
 6:7 105 
 
 6:8 106 
 
 6:9-10 42, 95, 104 
 
 6:9-13 114 
 
 6:11 11 
 
 6:13 14 
 
 6:14-15 53, 113 
 
 6:16-18 32 
 
 6:19-20 126 
 
 6:21 127 
 
 6:24 133 
 
 6:25 17 
 
 6:25-34 ....43, 55, 60, 93* 
 6:31-33 120 
 
 6:33 27, 85 
 
 7:1-5 112 
 
 7:7-11 55, 87, 106 
 
 7:12-14 115 
 
 7:15-27 16, 88 
 
 7:24-27 161 
 
 8:5-13 152 
 
 8:10-12 77 
 
 8:20 129 
 
 9:10-13 65, 153 
 
 9:14-15 32 
 
 9:22 92 
 
 9:27-30 63, 92 
 
 9:36 61 
 
 10:1 91 
 
 10:7-8 91, 95 
 
 10:19-20 15 
 
 10:21-22 50, 51 
 
 10:28 18 
 
 10:29-31 79 
 
 10:32-33 44 
 
 10:37 155 
 
 10:38 50 
 
 10:39 119 
 
 10:40 44 
 
 10:42 81, 94 
 
 11:5 59 
 
 11:11 22, 37 
 
 11:12 23 
 
 11:16-19 31 
 
 11:25-26 108 
 
 11:28-30 58, 96 
 
 12:1-8 75 
 
 12:12 80 
 
 12:22-32 72 
 
 12:28 22 
 
 12:32-35 86 
 
 12:33-37 110 
 
 13:3-9 39 
 
 331 
 
332 
 
 APPENDIX A 
 
 Matthew 
 
 13:18-30 29, 39 
 
 13:22 131 
 
 13:31-32 25, 38 
 
 13:33 38 
 
 13:37-38 24 
 
 13:44-46 26 
 
 13:52 33 
 
 16:24 68 
 
 16:26 80 
 
 17:24-27 34, 74 
 
 18:1-4 148 
 
 18:1-9 71 
 
 18:5-6 76, 81 
 
 18:7-14 103, 111 
 
 18:10 56 
 
 18:12-14 76 
 
 18:14 56 
 
 18:15-18 100, 159 
 
 18:19-20 6 
 
 18:21-35 113 
 
 19:3-12 102 
 
 19:8 36 
 
 20:1-15 10 
 
 20:21 4 
 
 21:12-13 45 
 
 21:33-43 160 
 
 22:11-13 159 
 
 22:37-38 54 
 
 22:39 117 
 
 23:1-36 48, 71 
 
 23:8-11 146 
 
 23:12 149 
 
 25:14-30 
 
 41, 85, 137, 138, 158, 159 
 
 25:21 49 
 
 25:31-46 71, 94, 159 
 
 25:35 57 
 
 25:36 59, 62 
 
 25:40 81 
 
 25:45 66 
 
 26:6-13 143 
 
 26:29 30 
 
 28:18-20 89, 151 
 
 Mark 1:15 21 
 
 1:36-38 35 
 
 2:15 35 
 
 2:21 37 
 
 2:23-28 7, 34, 75 
 
 3:1-6 34 
 
 3:31-35 155 
 
 4:25 40 
 
 4:26-29 25, 39 
 
 5:22-34 62 
 
 Mark 
 
 5:24 35 
 
 6:3 58 
 
 6:31 1 
 
 6:37-38 99 
 
 6:41 11 
 
 7:1-23 34 
 
 7:6-13 48 
 
 7:14-23 8 
 
 8:2 57 
 
 8:36-37 132 
 
 9:1 30 
 
 9:29 12 
 
 9:35 149 
 
 9:37 44, 66 
 
 9:41 120 
 
 10:2-12 102 
 
 10:17-25 134 
 
 10:28-30 156 
 
 10:31 149 
 
 10:42-45 147 
 
 11:20-24 90, 93 
 
 11:24-25 109 
 
 11:25 100 
 
 12:18-23 3 
 
 12:24-25 20 
 
 12:26-27 19 
 
 12:37 35 
 
 13:11 84 
 
 Luke 4:16-21 73 
 
 5:4-7 99 
 
 5:33-39 34 
 
 6:20 59 
 
 6:27-36 122 
 
 6:29-30 121 
 
 6:31 115 
 
 6:36 53 
 
 6:37-38 112, 120 
 
 7:13 64 
 
 7:18-23 73 
 
 7:28 147 
 
 7:36-50 34, 65 
 
 8:26-37 135 
 
 10:7 136 
 
 10:9 42, 91 
 
 10:11 21 
 
 10:17-18 30 
 
 10:19 90 
 
 10:22 44 
 
 10:25-37 94, 118, 152 
 
 10:38-42 130, 140, 150 
 
 11:1-4 114 
 
 11:20 42 
 
 11:33-36 Ill 
 
APPENDIX A 333 
 
 Luke John 
 
 11:37-41 8 5:28-29 82 
 
 12:4-7 60 5:40 13 
 
 12:13-21 124 6:8-9 99 
 
 12:15 17,125 6:15 35 
 
 12:16-21 144 6:63 18 
 
 12:35-48 49, 142 7:17 88 
 
 13:1-5 98 8:32 33 
 
 13:29-30 151,160 8:33-44 77 
 
 14:7-11 149 8:51 19 
 
 14:12-14 145, 153 9:1-39 63, 97 
 
 14:33 134 10:10 13, 31 
 
 15:1-10 78 11:23-26 19 
 
 15:1-32 67 11:33-36 64 
 
 16:1-9 143 12:12-19 35 
 
 16:10-12 141 12:24 39 
 
 16:16 23 12:25-26 68 
 
 16:19-31 82,144 12:32 151 
 
 17:1 29 13:1-15 154 
 
 17:2 56 13:34-35 117 
 
 17:7-10 139 14:1-3 19 
 
 17:20-21 22 14:9 44 
 
 18:1-8 106 14:12 90 
 
 18:9-14 108 14:13 109 
 
 18:15-17 56 14:15-20 70 
 
 19:5-7 153 14:19 13 
 
 19:12-27 41,158 14:21 54, 88 
 
 20:9-18 161 14:27 60 
 
 21:27-28 30 15:1-8 83 
 
 22:24-27 55 15:7 109 
 
 22:42 108 15:11 31 
 
 23:34 107,108 16:7-13 33, 84 
 
 23:46 108 17:11 70 
 
 john^3^:3-5 ............... 86 l^i^ ;;;; ;;;/,\[[][\\ 70 
 
 4.'.q iKo 19:23 34 
 
 4.21.24 6 1^=26-27 150 
 
 4:27 . ::::::::::: : : : 150 20:21-23 100 
 
 5:17 58 Acts 1:6 4 
 
 6:17-47 44 
 
 6:24 19 Romans 16:13 156 
 
APPENDIX B. 
 
 EECENT PEOGBESS IN COSMOGONY. 
 
 The sky may be divided into two general regions: the 
 Milky Way, disk-like in form, but with irregular pro- 
 tuberances, a "heterogeneous assemblage" of gaseous 
 clouds, open clusters and star streams; and the extra- 
 galactic region, sparsely filled with open and globular 
 clusters and spiral nebulae. 
 
 According to Arrhenius,^ fine particles of matter, car- 
 rying a negative electric charge, are driven out by the sun 
 and other hot bodies. The cold and comparatively motion- 
 less nebulae, which occupy a large portion of the galactic 
 region (the dark nebulous tracts first discovered by Bar- 
 nard), collect most of this cosmic dust. The resulting ac- 
 cumulation of negative electricity causes electrons to be 
 ejected, which render luminous the gaseous envelope of 
 the nebula. Atoms of the lighter gases are also carried 
 out into space. The outer layer of the nebula, thus rare- 
 fied, is supplied with fresh material from the interior, 
 until this in turn becomes depleted, and the nebula con- 
 denses into a star cluster or sun. On this theory, inter- 
 stellar space is constantly being fed with star dust, which 
 in time will be gathered by existing stars or formed into 
 new ones. Through the balance of attractive and repul- 
 sive forces, the evolution of the heavenly bodies will con- 
 tinue in an endless cycle. 
 
 Jeans has approached the problem from the behavior 
 of gaseous masses. His general conclusion is as follows:^ 
 
 * World in the Making, 1908. 
 
 'J. H. Jeans, Proh's of Cosmogony and Stellar Dynamics, 1919, 
 288. 
 
 334 
 
APPENDIX B 335 
 
 '^Some hundreds of millions of years ago all the stars 
 within our galactic universe formed a single mass of ex- 
 cessively tenuous gas in slow rotation. As imagined by 
 Laplace, this mass contracted owing to loss of energy by 
 radiation, and so increased its angular velocity until it 
 assumed a lenticular shape. . . . After this, further con- 
 traction was a sheer mathematical impossibility and the 
 system had to expand. The mechanism of expansion was 
 provided by matter being thrown off from the sharp edge 
 of the lenticular figure, the lenticular centre now forming 
 the nucleus, and the thrown-off matter forming the arms, 
 of a spiral nebula of the normal type. The long filaments 
 of matter which constituted the arms, being gravitationally 
 unstable, first formed into chains of condensations about 
 nuclei, and ultimately formed detached masses of gas. 
 With continued shrinkage, the temperature of these masses 
 increased until a large proportion of them broke up by fis- 
 sion into binary systems. The majority of the stars broke 
 away from their neighbors and so formed a cluster of 
 irregularly moving stars — our present galactic universe, 
 in which the flattened shape of the original nebula may 
 still be traced in the concentration about the galactic plane, 
 while the original motion along the nebular arms still per- 
 sists in the form of ^star-streaming.' In some cases a pair 
 or small group of stars failed to get clear of one another's 
 gravitational attractions and remain describing orbits about 
 one another as wide binaries or multiple stars. The stars 
 which were formed last, the present B-type [Helium] 
 stars, have been unusually immune from disturbance by 
 their neighbors, partly because they were born when 
 adjacent stars had almost ceased to interfere with one 
 another, partly because their exceptionally large mass 
 minimised the effect of such interference as may have 
 occurred; consequently they remain moving in the plane 
 in which they were formed, many of them still constitut- 
 ing closely associated groups of stars — ^the moving star- 
 clusters." 
 
336 APPE]!n)IX B 
 
 Eussell's two-branch theory and Eddington's recent 
 studies have thrown new light on the life history of the 
 stars. In the diffuse or youthful stage, the effective tem- 
 perature rises as the surface contracts, the total luminosity 
 remaining unaltered. The star is first red, then in suc- 
 cession orange, yellow and white. The radiating surface 
 of the Hydrogen stars has a temperature of about 11,000° 
 C, and that of the Helium stars 15,000°. Only the larg- 
 est or "giant" stars are sufficiently massive to reach this 
 point. The temperature at the interior must be millions 
 of degrees.' The greatest effective temperature is reached 
 when the density is from one fifth to two fifths that of 
 water. From this point the temperature declines, and the 
 luminosity falls off rapidly, the star passing through a 
 descending series of yellow, orange, red, until it becomes 
 dark and cold. Differences in brightness, as well as in 
 the maximum stage of evolution attained, must be at- 
 tributed to differences in mass. The range in mass is re- 
 markably small. To reach the hottest stage, a star must 
 be two and a half times as massive as the sun, which shows 
 at present about 6000°, and may at one time have reached 
 9000°. Some few are known which are perhaps fifty 
 times as large as the sun. A body with mass less than one 
 seventh that of the sun would never reach 3000°, the 
 lowest temperature admissible if it is to shine as a star. 
 "No star as small as this has yet been found. A mass range 
 of 1 to 3 would include five sixths of all the known stars. 
 Eddington's conclusion is that most of the material in 
 the universe has been aggregated into stellar bodies of 
 fairly uniform size. A star much larger than the aver- 
 age would tend to be unstable; the radiation pressure 
 
 »H. N. Russell, Pub's of Astron. Soc. of Pac., Aug., 1919. He 
 suggests that hitherto unsuspected forms of energy may be devel- 
 oped at such temperatures, giAring the giant stars a much longer 
 life than the ordinary laws of matter would allow. Cf. note by 
 Shapley, id., Jime, 1919, and Eddington, Observatory, Oct., 1919. 
 Russell's original papers are in Observatory, 36, 324, 1913; 37, 
 165, 1914. 
 
APPENDIX B 337 
 
 would become so great that gravitation could not hold it 
 together.* 
 
 The Carnegie observatory on Mount Wilson, in south- 
 em California, has recently used its 60-inch reflector for 
 epoch-making discoveries as to the extra-galactic region 
 and its relation to the Milky Way.^ Dr. Scares, the di- 
 rector of the photometric division, was able to establish 
 definite color and magnitude scales for the fainter stars. 
 A type of variable stars, with a peculiar pulsating light, 
 the Cepheid variables, have long puzzled astronomers. 
 They are usually associated with^ the equally puzzling 
 globular clusters, of which some 86 are now known. Work- 
 ing from the observed similarity of these Cepheid variables 
 in magnitude, spectrum and color, Shapley was able to 
 determine their relative distances, and so the distances of 
 the globular clusters containing them. The results are so 
 amazing that it takes one a little time to catch one's 
 breath. The Galaxy, which we used to place at a maxi- 
 mum distance of about 3000 light years, now is extended 
 in some directions to between 120,000 and 180,000 light 
 years. Globular clusters extend still further. While the 
 nearest is only 21,000 light years from us, the most distant 
 known at present (New General Catalogue 7006) is at 
 a distance of 220,000 light years. The spiral nebulae, 
 of which Keeler and Perrine, at t^e Lick observatory, 
 detected about half a million, are comparable in distance. 
 
 The globular clusters occupy a wedge-shaped region at 
 one side of the Milky Way, and divided into about equal 
 parts by the plane of the Galaxy. They appear to be mov- 
 ing toward the Milky Way, which they closely approach, 
 the nearest globular clusters being in general the least con- 
 densed. The spiral nebulae, on the contrary, are moving 
 away from the Galaxy with great velocity, and come near- 
 
 *A. S. Eddington, Soientia, 23, 9, 1918. 
 
 ■The work of the newly installed 100-inch reflector is being 
 watched by the astronomical world with keen anticipation. 
 
338 APPEITDIX B 
 
 est to it on the opposite side. Here also are most of the 
 open clusters found outside of the Milky Way.^ Shap- 
 ley's provisional hypothesis is that "the discoidal galactic 
 system originated from the combination of spheroidal star 
 clusters and has long been growing into its present enor- 
 mous size at their expense. The evidence further suggests 
 that the galactic system now moves as a whole through 
 space, driving the spiral nebulsB before it and absorbing 
 and disintegrating isolated stellar groups. Apparently the 
 suggested interpretation requires that two types of sidereal 
 organization prevail generally throughout extra-galactic 
 space : spiral nebulae, and stars of known types assembled 
 for the most part into globular clusters; and while the 
 globular clusters now known are, at least potentially, mem- 
 bers of the galactic system, the spiral nebulae are not 
 members, being rather general inhabitants of extra-galactic 
 space. The hypothesis demands that gravitation be the 
 ruling power of stars and star clusters, and that a repul- 
 sive force, radiation pressure or an equivalent, predomi- 
 nates in the resultant behavior of spiral nebulae." It is 
 possible that spiral nebulae represent a failure to form 
 stars by condensation, because of an excess of material. 
 "The mean diameter of the proposed system appears to be 
 at least 300,000 light years ; its most conspicuous feature 
 is the equatorial segment, which apparently is thickly 
 populated with stars throughout its whole extent. From 
 this viewpoint the Milky Way is mainly a phenomenon of 
 depth." '^ 
 
 "In both cases the radial velocity may be only apparent. See 
 Russell, Ap. J., 53, 1, 1921. 
 
 ' Studies based on Colors and Magnitudes in Stellar Clusters, 14th 
 paper, Ap. J., 50, 107, 1919; N. Aoad. of Sciences, 4, 224, 1918. 
 
APPENDIX a 
 
 HABITABLE PLANETS AMONG THE STARS ? 
 
 The only stars to be considered are those of the Solar 
 typa If we assume that there are 1000 million bright 
 stars, and that one fourth belong to this class, we have 250 
 million specimens to consider. According to Eddington's 
 theory, most of these will have a mass comparable with 
 the sun. Binary stars must be excluded, as subject to in- 
 tense tides; Aitken estimates these at two fifths of the 
 entire number. Conditions are likely to be equally un- 
 stable for multiple stars, and those associated with nebulae 
 and globular clusters. Since our entire region is galactic, 
 we need no longer follow Wallace in excluding the stars in 
 the Milky Way. Confining attention to open clusters like 
 our own, we are left with perhaps 50 million stars. The 
 question is. How many of these have developed planetary 
 systems ? And that brings us to the perennial problem of 
 the way planetary systems are formed. 
 
 In order to advance at all, let us adopt the late Profes- 
 sor BarrelFs modification of the planetesimal hypothesis.^ 
 According to this theory, a star decidedly larger than our 
 sun approached it and raised large tidal protuberances, 
 which shot off one or two streams of matter. The attrac- 
 tion of the passing body gave to the parts of this material 
 a direct revolution around the sun, the whole taking the 
 form of a spiral nebula. The arms of this nebula included 
 several large nuclei, which ultimately formed the planets. 
 The rest of the material condensed rapidly into smaller 
 solid bodies, called planetesimak. Over 800 such bodies 
 
 ^Jos. Barrel!, in Evol, of the Earth, 1918, lecture 1. A similar 
 view is given by Harold Jeffreys, Sd. Prog., 12, 52, 1917. 
 
 339 
 
340 APPENDIX C 
 
 have been discovered. Most of them however were picked 
 up by the larger nuclei in their subsequent development. 
 The planets grew very much by these accretions, and at the 
 same time reduced the eccentricity of their orbits. 
 
 If such an accident has occurred in the life of one 
 Solar star, it may occur in others. The possibility of 
 actual collision is practically negligible. Even close en- 
 counters must be of rare occurrence. At the average speed 
 of 26 miles per second, Kapteyn's estimate of stellar den- 
 sity requires 100,000 years merely to cover the distance 
 from one star to another. The chance of close approach 
 for any star has been estimated at one in 1800, in a 
 period of a billion years; or one chance in 18,000, if we 
 take the 100 million years assigned for the existence of 
 life on our earth. This would reduce our 50 million 
 available stars to a little over 2000. Of the encounters 
 which might take place, only a very small proportion would 
 duplicate the conditions of the hypothesis, as to the mass 
 of the approaching star, the closeness of approach, the 
 amount of material driven out by tidal action, and the 
 resulting motions in the spiral nebula. Of the planetary 
 systems thus formed, not all would furnish a planet 
 with the conditions found on our earth. Any other set 
 of assumptions would be likely to bring us much the same 
 result. 
 
APPENDIX D. 
 
 THE EMERGENCE OF A NEW SPECIES. 
 
 A new species arises in a number of different ways. It 
 may represent a blending of the factors present in the two 
 types that are crossed, as in the loganberry. Burbank 
 states that in Central America the Western Blackcap and 
 Eastern Red Raspberry sometimes form a natural cross. 
 More frequently the blended factors in the hybrid will 
 segregate in their progeny, and appear in various new 
 combinations, which breed true. These form the raw 
 material out of which the breeder makes other desired 
 combinations. Most of our new domestic species have been 
 formed in this way, and something of the same process 
 must be going on in wild forms. Factors may be cumula- 
 tive in their effect, causing the gradual accentuation of 
 certain features, as in l!^ilsson-Ehle^s work with oats, two 
 dark browns producing a blacker pigment than one. Smith 
 in Illinois was able to increase or diminish the protein- 
 content or oil-content of maize, and Castle the color-mark- 
 ings of hooded rats. Again, absolutely new factors arise 
 from time to time. Organisms appear which differ from 
 their parents, perhaps in a number of features. The mu- 
 tation may be large, as in the sudden appearance of the 
 White Plymouth Kock fowl, in 1875. It may be exceed- 
 ingly minute, as in the variations of the fruit-fly Dros(y- 
 phila, or in Jennings' studies of the rhizopod Difflugia. 
 The mutation may represent the dropping out of a factor. 
 The essential thing is the obtaining of a feature which has 
 so affected the germ of the organism that it will be in- 
 herited, and thus become available for breeding and fur- 
 ther selection. Commercial breeders are constantly on the 
 lookout for favorable variations. 
 
 341 
 
APPENDIX E. 
 
 CHEMISTRY AND THE ORGANISM. 
 
 The chromosomes of the germ-cell nucleus have been 
 found to segregate in exactly the same way as the hypo- 
 thetical factors. In fact Morgan, in his study of linked 
 factors and their interference, has been able to lay off 
 the chromosomes of the Drosophila on an exact linear 
 scale. His preliminary estimate is that 7500 different 
 factors are involved, for the four chromosomes of this 
 species.^ It is evident that chromatin has some close rela- 
 tion to heredity. Some biologists question whether the 
 chromosomes themselves are to be considered as causes, and 
 the seat of individual "determiners," or whether they are 
 consequents of chemical changes in the germ-cell as a 
 whole, and "a useful superficial index" of such changes. 
 
 The proteins, starches and other fundamental constitu- 
 ents of the cell, show a composition and structure that 
 are "peculiarly and specifically modified in relation to 
 genus, species, variety, sex, individual or even part of an 
 individual." ^ With a germ-plasm of such molecular com- 
 plexity, it is easy to imagine the alteration of the equilib- 
 rium through slight changes in the internal or external 
 conditions of the organism, causing the "physico-chemical 
 fatality" of normal reproduction to give place to mutations. 
 The probability of recombination will be greatly increased 
 by cross-fertilization. 
 
 *T. H. Morgan, Critique of the Theory of Ewylution^ 1916, 143. 
 
 *E. T. Reichert, Science, 40, 649, 1914. The species relationships 
 of over 100 animals were accurately determined by the crystal 
 structure of molecules of hemoglobin. This "individuality-diflferen- 
 tlal" must be reckoned with in the transplanting of tissues; see Leo 
 Loeb, Am, Naturalist, 54, pp. 45, 55, 1920. 
 
 342 
 
APPENDIX E 343 
 
 Every change in tbe germ cell, as reflected in the altered 
 form and behavior of the organism, must be considered to 
 be due to some physical or chemical cause, rather than to 
 chanca Experimental work has shown that the develop- 
 ment of inherited characters may be modified by changes 
 in light, temperature, food and moisture. And the pro- 
 duction of new characters by external stimuli, while not 
 yet demonstrated, has reached the stage of circumstantial 
 evidence.^ 
 
 The physico-chemical nature of the organism is reflected 
 in the recent literature of Biology. D'Arcy Wentworth 
 Thompson, for example, has traced the part played by 
 physical stresses in the interaction of growth and form.* 
 E. G. Hopkins emphasized in illuminating detail the dy- 
 namic side of biochemistry, up to a few years ago.^ The 
 feeding experiments of Mendel and Osborne show that, of 
 the amino acids out of which the mammalian proteins are 
 built, lysine is essential to grbwth, and tryptophane to body 
 maintenance.^ We might extend almost indefinitely our 
 examples of this physico-chemical approach to the problem 
 of the organism. 
 
 *A good summary will be found in E. B. Babcock and R. E. 
 Clausen, Genetics m Bel. to Agricultwre, 1918, 21 if. Ellsworth 
 Huntington, World-Power cmd Evolution, 1919, chap. 9, discusses 
 variation due to climatic changes, and its relation to geologic 
 history. 
 
 * Growth and Form, 1917. 
 
 "Nature, 92, 213, 1913. 
 
 •Frank P. Underbill, PTiysiol, of the Ammo Aoids, 1915. 
 
APPENDIX F. 
 
 THE EVOLUTION OF THE ORGANIC MACHINE. 
 
 The earliest stage in organic evolution is that of Bac- 
 terial Life. Certain types of bacteria, still present in the 
 soil, are able, under the influence of moderate heat, to 
 capture the electrical energy of chemical elements. Oxygen 
 is drawn in through the attraction of some of the mole- 
 cules of the cell. By means of certain catalysts, or inter- 
 mediate chemical compounds, the ammonia present in the 
 soil is oxidized, the end products being nitrous acid, water 
 and heat. The nitrous acid is of no value to this organ- 
 ism, though it is in turn oxidized for the production of 
 energy by companion bacteria of another type. But the 
 heat liberated supplies the energy by which the first or- 
 ganism, through its catalysts, builds up its own cell out 
 of ammonia, carbon dioxide and various minerals. Bac- 
 teria which are able to work without free oxygen may 
 represent a still more primitive type. 
 
 Step by step new molecules were formed, which made 
 possible the performance of other chemical functions. "New 
 sources of chemical energy were utilized, such as iron and 
 sulphur compounds. In later stages, many of the bacteria 
 became parasitic, depending on plants or animals for the 
 elaboration of their food material. Some special enzymes 
 were developed, for breaking up organic compounds. The 
 organism began to show the cell-wall, nucleus and chromo- 
 somes of the typical cell. For millions of years, however, 
 the simpler forms of bacteria were the earth's only inhabit- 
 ants. Through their work in soil formation, and the pro- 
 vision in themselves of an organic food supply, they pre- 
 pared the way for more complex energy transformers. 
 
 344 
 
APPENDIX F 345 
 
 A second but still extremely primitive stage in Evolu- 
 tion is that of the Algae. By the acquirement of chloro- 
 phyll granules, the organism is able to capture the energy 
 in certain of the sun's rays. This is used to break up 
 molecules of carbon dioxide and water, and build the 
 deoxidized carbon and hydrogen atoms into the energy- 
 reserves which we know as carbohydrates. These reserves 
 are later oxidized, to supply the energy needed for life 
 processes. "Thus living matter," as Osbom puts it, "util- 
 izes the energy of the sun to draw a continuous stream of 
 electric energy from the chemical elements in the earth, 
 the water, and the atmosphere." Many of the algae are 
 floating or free swimming. They constitute with bacteria 
 the food supply of the earliest animals. 
 
 The world of Plants represents further organizing of 
 this original function : the transformation of solar energy 
 by means of chlorophyll. "In their evolution, while there 
 is a continuous specialization and differentiation of the 
 modes of obtaining energy, plants may not attain a higher 
 chemical stage than that observed among the bacteria 
 and algae, except in the parasitic forms which feed both 
 upon plant and animal compounds. In the energy which 
 they derive from the soil plants continue to be closely 
 dependent upon bacteria, because they derive their nitro- 
 gen from nitrates generated by bacteria and absorbed along 
 with water by the roots. In reaching out into the air and 
 sunlight the chlorophyllic organs differentiate into the mar- 
 vellous variety of leaf forms, and these in turn are sup- 
 ported upon stems and branches which finally lead into 
 the creation of woody tissues and the clothing of the earth 
 with forests. Through the specialization of leaves in con- 
 nection with the germ-cells flowers are developed, and 
 plants establish a marvellous series of balanced relations 
 with their life environment, first with the developing insect 
 life, and finally with the developing bird life." ^ 
 
 The fourth stage is that of Protozoa, or one-celled ani- 
 
 ^Osborn, op. cit, 105. 
 
346 APPEKDIX F 
 
 mals, which normally derive their energy from the bacteria 
 or algse on which they feed. The utilization of these 
 energy stores is made possible by their equipment with the 
 proper enzymes or other catalysts. In the highest types, 
 such as Jennings' Difflugm, the cell shows a highly com- 
 plex organization, and is protected by a shell of cemented 
 sand granules. The organism moves about in the water in 
 response to light or chemical attraction, and shows con- 
 siderable power of experiment and discrimination. 
 
 Metazoa, or many-celled animals, constitute the fifth 
 stage. Their energy supplies continue to be drawn from 
 other organisms, chiefly from green plants. 
 
 Fossil remains show that by the middle of the Cambrian 
 period, perhaps 45 million years ago, the Invertebrates had 
 spread over practically all water areas. Their adaptation 
 to various conditions of life "appears to have been governed 
 by mechanical and chemical principles fundamentally sim- 
 ilar to those observed among the Protozoa, but distributed 
 through myriads of cells and highly complicated tissues 
 and organs, instead of being differentiated within a single 
 cell as in the ciliate Protozoa. Among the elaborate func- 
 tions thus evolved, showing a more complicated system of 
 action, reaction, and interaction with the environment and 
 within the organism, were, first, a more efficient locomo- 
 tion in the quest of food, in the capture of food, and in 
 the escape from enemies, giving rise in some cases to 
 skeletal structures of various types ; second, the evolution 
 of offensive and defensive weapons and armature; third, 
 various chemical modes of offense and defense; fourth, 
 protection and concealment by methods of burrowing." ^ 
 
 We now reach the stage of Evolution, where "the su- 
 premely adaptable Vertebrate type begins to dominate 
 the living world, overcoming one mechanical difficulty after 
 another as it passes through the habitat zones of water, 
 land and air. Adaptations in the motions necessary for 
 the capture, storage, and release of plant and animal 
 
 •M, 119. 
 
appe:n^dix f 347 
 
 energy continue to control the form of the body and of its 
 appendages, but simultaneously the organism through me- 
 chanical and chemical means protects itself either offen- 
 sively or defensively to reproduce and protect its kind." ' 
 Sense organs become highly developed, and the parts of the 
 organism are correlated through internal secretions, 
 enzymes, and the fully organized nervous system. "In 
 the course of normal physicochemical environment, of nor- 
 mal life environment, of normal individual development, 
 and of normal selection and competition, an organism will 
 tend to more or less closely reproduce its normal ancestral 
 characters. But a new or abnormal physicochemical in- 
 truder either into the enviroimient, the developing individ- 
 ual, the heredity-chromatin or the life environment may 
 produce a new or abnormal visible character type." * 
 
 *Id.y 152. 
 *W., 147. 
 
INDEX 
 
 Abbott, E. v., 155 
 
 Absolute, 33, 65, 77, 160 
 
 Accident prevention, 121 
 
 Acquired characters, 69, 150 
 
 Acquisitiveness, 200-201, 209 
 
 Adaptation, biological, 58-59, 
 346-347 
 
 Addams, J., 69, 127 
 
 Adolpho Stahl Lectures, 44 
 
 Advertising, 156 
 
 ^ther, 20, 23-24 
 
 Agriculture, beef cattle, 95-96; 
 dairy cattle, 96-97; honey, 98; 
 wheat, 99; corn, 100-101; soil 
 improvement, 101-102; ethics 
 of, 102-103; rural credits, 159; 
 in Germany, 233, 245, 248; 
 Java, 276; Natal, 278-280; 
 among Negroes, 291; Inter- 
 national Institute of, 301 
 
 Albany, N. Y., 123 
 
 Alcohol, prohibition movement, 
 127 
 
 Algse, 56, 345 
 
 Algeciras, Convention of, 265, 
 307 
 
 Allen, F. J., 50, 56 
 
 Altruism, defined, 133; in home, 
 134-135; church, 136; fraterni- 
 ties, 136; labor unions, 136- 
 138; patriotism, 139-140; in- 
 stinctive basis, 141-142, 314 
 
 Amalgamated Clothing Workers, 
 137, 225-226 
 
 Amalgamated TeJrtile Workers, 
 226 
 
 American Federation of Labor, 
 137, 292 
 
 Ames, E. S., 163 
 
 Ames, J. S., 21 
 
 Angell, J. E., 77 
 
 Angell, N., 237 
 
 Arbitration, industrial, 198-199, 
 215, 217, 223, 225: national, 
 307, 309 
 
 Archer, W., 283 
 
 Armstrong, H. E., 50 
 
 Arrhenius, S., 44, 47-49, 318, 334 
 
 Arsenals, industrial democracy, 
 220 
 
 Art, landscape, 36, 39; origin 
 and nature of, 84-85; as inter- 
 national force, 297 
 
 Astronomy, 19, 43-44; Milky 
 Way, 44-45, 337-338; spirals 
 and globular clusters, 45, 337; 
 finite or infinite Universe, 45- 
 46; habitable planets, 47-49, 
 339-340; electrical phenomena, 
 334; behavior of gaseous 
 masses, 334; life history of 
 stars, 336 
 
 Atkins, G. G., 93 
 
 Atkinson, H. A., 178, 181 
 
 Atoms, 20-23 
 
 Augustine, 28, 35 
 
 Australia, aborigines, 71; trade 
 boycott, 156; arbitration, 198- 
 199; preferential tariff, 270 
 
 Ayuwasa, I. F., 305 
 
 Babcock and Claussen, 101, 343 
 
 Bacteriology, butter and cheese 
 making, 98; soils, 101; disease 
 and resistance, 106, 109-110; 
 intestinal flora. 111 ; water and 
 sewage, 123; milk, 123; in- 
 fectious diseases, 125-126; 
 primitive organisms, 56, 344- 
 845 
 
 Bagdad railway, 264 
 
 Bailey, L. H., 102-103 
 
 Baker, R. S., 178, 226, 284 
 
 Baltic, shipping trust, 302; eco- 
 nomic coi^erence, 308 
 
 Banking, 157; German, 246-247; 
 international, 298, 301 
 
 Barnett and MeCabe, 199 
 
 Barren, JL 59, 339 
 
 Basset, W. K., 209 
 
 349 
 
350 
 
 INDEX 
 
 Bateson, W., 52 
 
 Begbie, H., 162 
 
 Behavior, in industry, xx, 177, 
 195, 228, 315; in national re- 
 lations, xxi, 264 
 
 Belgium, 139, 236, 306; relief of, 
 128 
 
 Berenson, B., 41 
 
 Bergson, 25, 56 
 
 Beyer, D. S., 121 
 
 Binnie, J. F., 106 
 
 Bird, J. M., 21 
 
 Birth control, 68-69 
 
 Birth rate, 233, 277-278, 281 
 
 Bismarck, 232, 240 
 
 Blondel, G., 248 
 
 Bloomfield, D., 203 
 
 Bloomfield, M., 75, 178, 209 
 
 Boaz, F., 69 
 
 Bogart, E. L., 243, 247 
 
 Bonnefon, C, 248 
 
 Bonus, 200-202 
 
 Bousset, W., 5 
 
 Boycott, Chinese, 268-269 
 
 Brady, W., 106 
 
 Brain, 27, 72-73 
 
 Breastead, J. O., 95 
 
 Brill, A. A., 69 
 
 Brindell, K. P., 189-190 
 
 Brooks, J. G., 178, 196 
 
 Brown, C. B., 115 
 
 Bruce, H. A., 115 
 
 Bruere, E. W., 223-224 
 
 Bryce, J., 151, 271 
 
 Bubonic plague, 126, 295 
 
 Budish and Soule, 225 
 
 Bulgaria, labor conscription, 91 
 
 Burbank, L., 101, 341 
 
 Burkett, C. W., 102 
 
 Burns, W. J., 189 
 
 Burritt et al., 198 
 
 Butter, 97-98 
 
 Cabot, E. C, 106 
 
 Campbell, N. E., 21 
 
 Campbell, W. W., 44 
 
 Canada, 199n; anti-dumping tar- 
 iff, 246; part in War, 270 
 
 Cannon, W. B., 113 
 
 Capital, international, 299, 301- 
 302, 309 
 
 Cartels, 245, 247-248 
 
 Castle, W. E., 55, 341 
 
 Cattle, beef, 95; dairy, 96-97 
 
 Central America, 126, 295-296 
 
 Chamberlin, T. C, 44 
 
 Chapin, C. V., 123 
 
 Character, acquirement of, 160- 
 164, 320 
 
 Cheese making, 98 
 
 Chemistry, organic, 50, 55, 106, 
 108-111, 342-345 
 
 Chicago, 137, 224 
 
 Children's Year, 124 
 
 China, Boxer indemnity, 266; re- 
 lations with Germany, 267; 
 with Japan, 267-269 
 
 Chirol, v., 273 
 
 Cholera, 123, 126, 295 
 
 Christianity, as a working hy- 
 pothesis, ix, xvi, 1, 15, 32, 143- 
 145, 229, 294, 311; influence 
 on civilization, 150-151; on 
 character building, 162-164; 
 on practical success, 173, 311- 
 312; not an economic program, 
 319; an attitude, 322; its so- 
 cial value, 323 
 
 Christian Science, 105-107, 113 
 
 Church, 136, 297 
 
 Civilization, development of, 79, 
 89, 238; moral basis of, 314, 
 317, 321-322 
 
 Clarke, F. W., 44 
 
 Clarke, James Freeman, 81, 145- 
 146 
 
 Coe, G. A., 163 
 
 Cohen, J. H., 222 
 
 Collective bargaining, 216, 222-25 
 
 Colonization, motives, 250-251 ; 
 quick exploitation, 252; fran- 
 chises and public works, 252; 
 permanent exploitation, 253 ; 
 difficulties and dangers, 253; 
 labor problem, 254-257; cost, 
 257; colonies as a trust, 258; 
 trade, 258 ; monopoly, 259-261 ; 
 open door, 261-263; Dutch in 
 Java, 274-278; British in Na- 
 tal, 278-281 
 
 Colorado Fuel and Iron Co., 
 strike of 1913, 178-181; plan 
 of industrial cooperation, 215- 
 216 
 
 Colvin, F. H., 210 
 
 Commerce, German, 244-246, Co- 
 lonial, 259-263; Dutch, 278; in- 
 ternational, 298-300 
 
 Common interest, 262, 264, 293- 
 310, 315, 328 
 
INDEX 
 
 351 
 
 Commons, J. R., 151, 178, 227 
 Comstock and Troland, 21 
 Congo, 252, 307 
 Conklin, E. G., 69 
 Consideration, value of, 145-146, 
 
 148 
 Coordinates, 23-24 
 Corn breeding, 100 
 Coulter, J. M. and M. C, 52 
 Credit, private, 157; mercantile, 
 
 158; rural, 159; international, 
 
 298 
 Cremer, J. T., 278 
 Croee, B., 85 
 Croker, E. F., 118-119 
 Croly, H., 151 
 Cromer, Earl of, 272-273 
 Crowther, S., 178 
 Cubberley, E. P., 73 
 Culbertson, W. S., 261, 300 
 Culture System, 275-276 
 Custom, as ethical force, 160 
 Cutler, J. E., 284 
 Czernin, O., 241-242 
 
 Darwinism, 52-54, 60, 232-234 
 
 Da Vinci, L., 85-86 
 
 Davison, H. P., 128 
 
 Dawson, W. H., 244 
 
 Day, C, 278 
 
 Dearmer, P., 33, 113 
 
 Death, Jewish view of, 5; causes 
 of, 119; Christian view of, 6, 
 318-319, 324 
 
 Death rate, 120-124, 184, 276, 
 282, 291, 323-324 
 
 Democracy, in Jesus' teaching, 
 14; development of, 151; in in- 
 dustry, 208-209, 211-228 ; view- 
 point of, 325 
 
 Dewey, J., 73, 75, 269 
 
 Difflugia, 341, 346 
 
 Disarmament Conference, 238, 
 300, 307-308 
 
 Doane and Lawson, 98 
 
 Draft, causes for rejection, 107- 
 108 
 
 Drosophila, 341-342 
 
 Dubois, P., 106 
 
 Dumping, 241, 245-247, 300 
 
 Dutch East India Co., 274-275 
 
 Earth, geologic changes, 57; fu- 
 ture of, 318; planetesimal 
 hypothesis, 339 
 
 East and Jones, 71, 101 
 
 Ebert, J., 186 
 
 Eckel, E. C, 301 
 
 Eddington, A. S., 21-22, 26, 44, 
 336-337 
 
 Education, 73-75, 80; as ethical 
 force, 161; in Natal, 280; in 
 South, 290-291 ; effect of demo- 
 cratic movement, 325 
 
 Egypt, 95, 295; relations with 
 England, 272-274 
 
 Einstein, Albert, 21, 23-24 
 
 Electrons, 21-23, 26-27 
 
 Elliott, H. S. R., 82-83 
 
 Ellis, H., 122 
 
 Emigration, conditions in New 
 York, 137; in Lawrence, 186; 
 to tropics, 251; in relation to 
 industry, 233, 300-301 
 
 Emmet, B., 198 
 
 Employment department, 203 
 
 Endicott Johnson Shoe Co., 212 
 
 Energy, 20, 26, 31, 56-57 
 
 England, 36, 119, 139; industrial 
 relations in, 178n; reaction to 
 Germany, 239, 241, 246-247; 
 colonies, 258, 262-263; thwart- 
 ing of Germany in Turkey, 
 264; in Persia,. 265; reaction 
 of English-speaking colonies, 
 270; control of Egypt, 265, 
 272-274 
 
 Environment, vii-viii ; physico- 
 chemical, 55, 57; organic, 57; 
 social, 73, 75-76, 320; moral, 
 xxi, 150, 153, 162, 164-166, 228- 
 229, 231 
 
 Ethics, ix; Jesus' system of, 8- 
 15, 153, 167; influence of Chris» 
 tian idea of God, 150-151 ; ju3> 
 tice, 154; honesty, 155; attain- 
 ment of character, 160-164; 
 problem of harmful forces, 
 165; standards of national re- 
 lations, 248, 327; cosmic basis, 
 xxi, 314; goal of personality, 
 317; change from individual to 
 social standards, 326 
 
 Ettor, J. J., 185-186 
 
 Eugenics, heredity, 69-73; envi- 
 ronment, 72-76, 320 
 
 Evans, M. S., 253 
 
 Evans, W. A., 121 
 
 Evil, in Nature, 165; in Society, 
 294, 3^0-321 
 
352 
 
 IOT)EX 
 
 Evolntion, 52-60, 312; versus 
 aehievement, xxi, 316, 320; 
 stages, 344-347 
 
 Fairehild, H. P., 284 
 Farman, E. E., 273 
 Fatigue, 92-93, 201-202 
 Finite or infinite Universe, 45- 
 
 46 
 Fire protection, forests, 116-117; 
 
 buildings, 117-119 
 Fisher and Fisk, 106 
 Fitch, J. A., 181, 186, 216 
 Flexner, A., 127 
 Flexner, S., 295 
 Folks, H., 296 
 Force, in Physics, 26 
 Ford, Henry, 201 
 Foreign Missions, in Nigeria, 
 
 163-164; in Natal, 279 
 Forest fires, 116-117 
 Fosdick, H. E., 170 
 Foster, J. W., 267 
 France, 119, 139, 237; suspicion 
 
 of Germany, 239; commercial 
 
 reaction, 246-247 ; colonies, 
 
 257, 260-262; in Moroeeo, 265; 
 
 tariff war with Switzerland, 
 
 300 
 Francke, K., 234 
 Frank, Leo, 285 
 Frankel and Fleisher, 203 
 Fraternal organizations, 136 
 Freedom and determinism, xix, 
 
 94 
 Freeman, F. N., 73 
 French Eevolution, 235, 271 
 Friday, D., 239 
 
 Friedman, E. M., 248, 298, 300 
 Future, Jewish view of, 4-5; of 
 
 the earth, 318; of individual, 
 
 318-319; of the race, 323-328 
 
 Gantt, H. L., 201, 206, 326 
 
 Gary, Judge, 147 
 
 Geology, 44, 57, 339 
 
 Georgia Experiment Station, 97 
 
 Germany, 125; cult of Natural 
 Selection, 232 ; population, 
 233-234; theory of State, 234- 
 235; colonies, 240, 257, 262- 
 263 ; commercial penetration, 
 240; cost of military competi- 
 tion, 242-243; expansion of 
 industry, 243-244; economic na- 
 
 tionalism, 235, 244-246, 248; 
 inflation, 246-247; internal sit- 
 uation, 246, 248; in Turkey, 
 264; Morocco, 265; Persia, 
 265; Shantung, 271; Slesvig, 
 271; effect of War, 299 
 
 Gibbons, H. A., 263, 266-267 
 
 Gilbreth, F. B. and L. M., 93 
 
 Girault, A., 260-261 
 
 Gleason, A., 178 
 
 Globular clusters, 45, 337 
 
 Goldmark, J., 93 
 
 Goodwill, as business asset, 147- 
 150, 262; industrial asset, 227, 
 314-315 
 
 Gordon, K., 77 
 
 Gorgas, W. C, 121, 126 
 
 Gorilla, 72 
 
 Gourvitch, P. P., 244 
 
 Grant, L., 189 
 
 Gregory, W. K., 59 
 
 Grimke, A. H., 283 
 
 Groat, G. G., 178 
 
 Guatemala, 126, 295 
 
 Guayaquil, 126 
 
 Gulick, S. L., 267 
 
 Hadley, A. T., 151 
 
 Hagerty, J. E., 158-159 
 
 Hague Conferences, 306-307 
 
 Hale, E. E., 146 
 
 Hale, G. E., 44 
 
 Hall, W. E., 306 
 
 Hamburg, Ark., 125 
 
 Hamburg, Germany, 123 
 
 Hamilton-Beach Mfg. Co., 191 
 
 Hammond, L. H., 282 
 
 Hart, Schaffner and Marx, 224- 
 226 
 
 Harwood, W. S., 101 
 
 Hastings, E. G., 98 
 
 Hauser, H., 241, 245 
 
 Hays, W. M., 99 
 
 Health, 105-115, 119-126; inter- 
 national, 294-296 
 
 Hebrew literature, mystical ele- 
 ment, 4, 40 
 
 Henderson, C. B., 196, 209 
 
 Henderson, L. J., 55 
 
 Henley, W. E., 66 
 
 Heredity, 69-73 
 
 Herero revolt, 257 
 
 Herf ord, E. T., 4 
 
 Hershey, A. S., 306 
 
 Higgins, A. P., 306 s 
 
INDEX 
 
 353 
 
 HiU, D. S., 206 
 
 Hill, H. W., 123 
 
 Hillman, S., 226 
 
 Hirn, Y., 84 
 
 Hollman, G., 5 
 
 Holt, E. B., 162 
 
 Home, as center of altruism, 134- 
 
 135 
 Honesty, 155; basis of credit, 
 
 157 
 Honey production, 99 
 Hookworm, 295 
 Hopkins, E. G., 343 
 Horse, changes in dentition, 58 
 Howard, E. D., 244 
 Howard, E., 106 
 Howe, Julia Ward, 81-83, 86 
 Hoxie, E. F., 178, 202 
 Huckel, O., 115 
 Hunter, E., 193 
 Huntington, E., 343 
 Hyndman, H. M., 263 
 
 Immortality, 318-319 
 
 Indentured labor, 255-256 
 
 India, 262-263 
 
 Individual, in Jesus ' teaching, 9 j 
 relation to the Universe, 65- 
 66, 77, 89, 102, 317; in in- 
 dustry, 207, 211, 228, 317, 325, 
 327 
 
 Industrial education, 205-206 
 
 Industrial Eelations Commission, 
 181, 183, 186, 192, 196 
 
 Industrial Workers of tke World, 
 183, 185-186 
 
 Industry, social aspects, 75, 90- 
 93, 154-155, 211, 317; modern 
 development, 176, 178; strug- 
 gle for advantage, 177; re- 
 sults of exploitation, 178-194; 
 effect of better working condi- 
 tions, 195; welfare work, 196; 
 profit sharing, 197; compulsory 
 arbitration, 198 ; government 
 regulation, 199; bonus, 200- 
 202 ; employment methods, 
 203 ; training departments, 
 204-206; experiments in co- 
 operation, 211-226; peace and 
 war, 238-239; as form of mu- 
 tual service, 326-327 
 
 Infantile paralysis, 295 
 
 Infant mortality, 124, 184 
 
 Influenza, 295 
 
 Ingersoll, B. G., 104 
 
 Inglis, A., 73 
 
 Inspiration, 81 
 
 Instincts, expression and repres- 
 sion, 75; altruistic, 141-142; 
 discipline of, 154, 162 ; acquisi- 
 tiveness, 200-202 ; construc- 
 tion and self-assertion, 209, 
 211; as motives of action, 228- 
 229, 315 
 
 Insurance, 118-119; social, 203, 
 327; against war, 307-308 
 
 Intelligence, 70-71, 74 
 
 International associations, 294, 
 296-297, 301 
 
 International Bridge and Struc- 
 tural Ironworkers, 187-188 
 
 International Labor Legislation, 
 Association for, 303; in Peace 
 Treaty, 304; Conference, 304- 
 305 
 
 International Ladies ' Garment 
 Workers, 221-223 
 
 International Law, 306 
 
 International Maritime Commit- 
 tee, 302 
 
 International Metal Workers, 
 303 
 
 Intuition, 81 
 
 Iowa Experiment Sta., 96-97 
 
 Ireland, A., 252 
 
 Island universes, 45 
 
 Italy, 139, 241; adventure in 
 Tripoli, 257 
 
 Jacoby, H., 44 
 
 Jamaica, 255, 284 
 
 Japan, results of war with Bus- 
 sia, 237; treatment of China, 
 267-269; rise in wages, 303 
 
 Jastrow, J., 77 
 
 Jeans, J. H,, 44, 384 
 
 Jeffreys, H., 339 
 
 Jennings, H. S., 341, 346 
 
 Jephson, H., 122 
 
 Jesus, modernness, 1; a construc- 
 tive thinker, xvi, 2, 311-312; 
 sources for his teaching, 2; 
 teaching in detail, 3-15; ideas 
 of astronomy, 43 ; on marriage, 
 68; use of term love, 134, 
 149; broadening of group al- 
 truism, 143; consideration as 
 self-interest, 148; system of 
 
354 
 
 INDEX 
 
 ethics, 153, 162, 167; idea of 
 
 prayer, 167-171 
 Johnson, F. E., 186 
 Jones, D. F., 71, 101 
 Jordan, E. O., 106 
 Justice, 154-156 J for Negroes, 
 
 284-286, 289 
 
 Kaffirs, 278-281 
 
 Kapteyn, J. C, 46, 340 
 
 Keller, A. G., 252 
 
 Kellogg, v., 128 
 
 Kelly, E. W., 203, 205 
 
 Kerlin, E. T., 287 
 
 Kidd, B., 148, 252 
 
 King, W. L. M., 181, 207, 215 
 
 Kingdom of God, in Jesus' 
 teaching, 6-7, 9; not a Utopia, 
 149, 320; a cooperative enter- 
 prise, 316 
 
 Knopf, S. A., 125 
 
 Krehbiel, E., 307 
 
 Ku Klux Klan, 284, 287 
 
 Labor, moral value, 91; condi- 
 tions of efficiency, 92-93; un- 
 ions as centers of altruism, 136- 
 138; history and status, 176- 
 178; coal mining, 178-181; 
 lumbering, 181-183 ; textile 
 mills, 183-186 ; controversy 
 with National Erectors' Asso- 
 ciation, 187-188; N. Y. Build- 
 ing Trades Council, 189-190; 
 objection to welfare work, 197 ; 
 to profit sharing, 198; to com- 
 pulsory arbitration, 198; to 
 piece work, 201; to Scientific 
 Management, 201-202; unem- 
 ployment, 203; human factor, 
 207, 327; effect of war condi- 
 tions, 208; attempts to revive 
 craftsmanship, 210-220; needle 
 trades, 221-226; assuming re- 
 sponsibility for production, 
 226, 327; in tropics, 254-257; 
 international, 302-305, 309 
 
 Labor cost, and standard of liv- 
 ing, 200, 303 
 
 Labor turnover, 203, 205, 209 
 
 Ladies* Garment industry, 2£1- 
 223 
 
 Lane, C. B., 97 
 
 Laski, H. J., 151 
 
 Lauck, W. J., 186 
 
 Laughlin, J. L., 158, 247 
 
 Law, 155, 325; international, 306 
 
 Lawrence, Mass., 183-186 
 
 Lawrence, T. J., 306 
 
 Leacock, S., 178 
 
 League of Nations, 258, 296, 302, 
 
 304, 307-308 
 Leake, A. H., 206 
 Lebedew, P., 46 
 Le Bosquet, J. E., 151 
 Lecky, W. E. H., 150-151 
 Le Dantec, F., 50, 149-150 
 Leduc, S., 50 
 Lee, F. S., 93 
 Leitch, J., 218 
 Life, 26; theories of origin, 49- 
 
 50; physico-chemical basis, 55, 
 
 342-343 
 Lippmann, W., 151, 250-252 
 List, F., 234 
 
 Livingstone, W. P., 164, 255 
 Loeb, J., 66 
 Loeb, L., 342 
 
 London, sanitary evolution, 122 
 Lorentz, H. A., 21-22 
 Lull, E. a, 44, 50, 56, 58, 339 
 Lumber industry, 182-183, 195 
 Lusk, G., 106 
 Lynching, 284-285 
 
 Madagascar, 260-261 
 
 Maize, 100 
 
 Malaria, 125, 323 
 
 Malthus, 232-233 
 
 Man, evolution, 59, 141; heredi- 
 ty, 69-73; environment, 72-76; 
 mental adjustment, vii-viii, 77' 
 79; physical adjustment, 88- 
 90; developing food supply, 95- 
 103; control of health, 105- 
 115; of providence, 116-129; 
 moral adjustment, 42, 144, 164 
 167, 171, 173, 175, 228-229, 
 248, 294, 309, 311, 314-315, 
 322-323 ; as partner in creation, 
 313-314; as object of creative 
 process, 317; future social de- 
 velopment, 318; future of in- 
 dividual, 318-319; slow social 
 adjustment, 320-321; marks of 
 progress: lengthening of hu- 
 man life, 323-324; democratic 
 movement, 325; social solid- 
 arity, 326-328 
 
 Mandatories, 258 
 
im>EX 
 
 355 
 
 Marot, H., 206 
 
 Mars, 48 
 
 Marshall's Microbiology, 98, 102, 
 106, 123 
 
 Materialism, vii, 20-23, 28, 312 
 
 Mathews, A. P., 106 
 
 Matter, electrical theory of, 20- 
 23 J theological problem, 29, 31, 
 312 
 
 Mauritius, 256, 262 
 
 Mayo, W. J., 120-121 
 
 McDougall, W., 69, 297 
 
 McManigal, O., 188 
 
 McNamaras, 188 
 
 McPherson, J. B., 186 
 
 Meat-packing combination, 148 
 
 Medicine, surgery, 106-107; 
 chemistry, 108-109; bacteriol- 
 ogy, 109-111; mental hygiene, 
 112-115; prevention of disease, 
 120-126 
 
 Mendel 's Law, 53 
 
 Men's Garment industry, 137, 
 202, 224-225 
 
 Mental hygiene, 106, 112-115 
 
 Metchnikoff, 111 
 
 Migration, Negro, 288-289, 292 
 
 Miles, H. E., 205 
 
 Milk, 96-98, 123 
 
 Milky Way, 44-45, 337-338 
 
 Millikan, R. A., 20 
 
 Millioud, M., 245-247 
 
 Milner, A., 272-273 
 
 Minchin, E. A., 50 
 
 Minimum wage, 199 
 
 Minkow^ski, 24 
 
 Minnesota Experiment Sta., 99- 
 100 
 
 Mitten, T. E., 218-220 
 
 Monism and Pluralism, xix, 65, 
 77, 94, 105, 313 
 
 Montefiori, C. G., 4 
 
 Moore, B., 50 
 
 Morgan, T, H., 26, 52, 66, 234, 
 342 
 
 Morman, J. B., 159 
 
 Morocco, 251, 265, 295, 307 
 
 Morris Plan banks, 158 
 
 Morris, Wm., 91 
 
 Morse, J., 287 
 
 Mote, C. H., 199 
 
 Moulton, F. R., 44 
 
 Mt. Wilson observatory, 337 
 
 Mozart, 85-86 
 
 Miinsterberg, H., 77, 106 
 
 Murphy, E. G., 286-287 
 
 Music, 84 
 
 Mutations, 52-55, 70, 234, 341- 
 
 343 
 Mysticism, 32-33, 41-42 
 
 Natal, effect of British rule, 
 278-279; treatment of natives, 
 279-281 
 
 National Erectors* Association, 
 187-188 
 
 National Industrial Conference 
 Board, 199, 218 
 
 Nationalism, economic, 235, 244, 
 248; racial, 270-271, 281, 287, 
 328; political, 263, 272-274 
 
 National relations, contrasting 
 theories, 232, 248-249, 294 
 
 Natives, treatment of, 252-257; 
 in Natal, 279-281 
 
 Natural Selection, 52-54, 232-234 
 
 Nature, Jesus' view of, xvii, 3- 
 4; man's communion with, 35- 
 38; symbolism, 39-40; mysti- 
 cism, 41-42; uniformity of, 51, 
 87-88 ; cooperation with, 66, 88- 
 90; contact with, in manual 
 labor, 91; in agriculture, 103 
 
 Nearing, S., 178 
 
 Negro, 93; in tropics, 254-257; 
 in Southern states, 282-283; 
 sex relations, 283; lynching, 
 284-285; civil jusftice, 286; 
 effect on whites, 286, 293; ra- 
 cial tension, 287; migration, 
 288-289; education, 290-291; 
 agriculture, 291; public health, 
 291; purchasing power, 292; 
 and organized labor, 292 
 
 Neill, C. P., 186 
 
 Netherlands, 37; colonial policy, 
 258, 278; in Java, 274-278 
 
 Neurones, 72, 80 
 
 New Jersey Bureau of State Re- 
 search, 218, 224 
 
 New York City, 118-119, 137, 194, 
 221-223, 225 
 
 New Zealand, 199n, 270 
 
 Olivier, S., 254-257, 285 
 
 Olsen, J. C, 123 
 
 Open door, 261-263 
 
 Oppenheim, L., 306 
 
 Osborn, H. F., 50, 56-57, 59, 
 
 345-347 
 Osier, W., 106 
 
356 
 
 INDEX 
 
 Packard Motor Co., 204 
 
 Paleontology, 58, 346 
 
 Palgrave, F. T., 36 
 
 Panama Canal, reduction of 
 death rate, 121 
 
 Pan-Germans, 235-236, 240, 248 
 
 Panspermism, 47, 49 
 
 Parables, Jesus' use of, 2 
 
 Parker, C. H., 75, 183 
 
 Parmelee, M., 69 
 
 Patriotism, as altruistic, 139-140 
 
 Patten, S. N., 324 
 
 Paul, 68, 134, 298 
 
 Pearl, E., 119-120 
 
 Pearson, K., 71 
 
 Persia, 251, 265, 295 
 
 Perugino, 41 
 
 Peters, J. G., 117 
 
 Pfluger, E., 50 
 
 Pharisaism, 4-5 
 
 Philadelphia Eapid Transit Co., 
 218-220 
 
 Philanthropy, 151, 325 
 
 Philippines, TT. S. in, 257 
 
 Physics, electrical theory of Mat- 
 ter, 20-22; relativity, 23-25 
 relation to Biology, 26, 55 
 uniformity of Nature, 87-88 
 cooperation with Nature, 90 
 
 Piez, C, 192 
 
 Pigou, A. C, 203 
 
 Pillsbury, W. B., 77 
 
 Pirrson and Schuehert, 44 
 
 Planetesimal hypothesis, 339 
 
 Planets, habitable, 47-49, 339-340 
 
 Plants, evolution, 56, 345 j breed- 
 ing, 53-54, 99-101, 341 
 
 Poetry, landscape in, 35-36, 40 
 
 Popenoe and Johnson, 69 
 
 Population, theory of, 232-234; 
 emigration, 251, 300-301; Java, 
 276-277; Natal, 278 
 
 Porteus, S. D., 71 
 
 Pragmatism, viii, 149, 236, 323 
 
 Pratt, J. B., 163 
 
 Prayer, in Jesus* teaching, 11; 
 cooperative basis, 167-172; 
 answer to, 170; social value, 
 171-172 
 
 Prendergast, W. A., 158 
 
 President 's Industrial Commis- 
 sion, 199, 209, 226 
 
 Preziosi, G., 240-241 
 
 Price, G. M., 196, 222 
 
 Primates, 57, 59 
 
 Profiteering, 229 
 
 Profit sharing, 197-198, 212 
 
 Prostitution, 69; control, 127 
 
 Protocol, 221-223 
 
 Protozoa, 56, 345 
 
 Providence, in Jesus* teaching, 
 10-11; man's control of, 116; 
 fire, 116-119; health, 119-121; 
 accident, 121; sanitation, 122- 
 125; disease, 125-126; prosti- 
 tution, 127; alcoholism, 127; 
 famine, 128; meaning of con- 
 trol, 133, 168, 324 
 
 Psychology, 77; concepts, vii, 
 77-79; mind and brain, 26, 80; 
 the subconscious, 80-83, 86; 
 aesthetics, 84-85 
 
 Public health, 120-126; in South, 
 282-283, 291; as international 
 problem, 294-296 
 
 Punett, E. C, 52 
 
 Putnam-Weale, B. L., 269 
 
 Eace, 70, 263, 270, 282, 328 
 
 Eankin, M. T., 199 
 
 Eausehenbusch, W., 28 
 
 Eeclamation and drainage, 102 
 
 Eed Cross, work in Europe, 128; 
 in American communities, 139; 
 international, 296 
 
 Eedfield, W. C, 200-201 
 
 Eeichert, E. T., 342 
 
 Eeinsch, P. S., 252, 261, 294 
 
 Eelativity, 21, 23-25 
 
 Eeligion, viii, xvii; and Sci- 
 ence, 27-32; dualism, 29-30; 
 biological significance, 30; re- 
 lation to sex, 68; to labor, 90- 
 92; to agriculture, 103; to 
 health, 113-115; to character 
 building, 161-164; as interna- 
 tional force, 297; place of 
 Christianity, 311; pragmatic 
 value, 322-323; change of tone, 
 323-324 
 
 Eenaissance, 36 
 
 Eetail trade, modern evolution, 
 146-147 
 
 Eettger, L. F., 112 
 
 Eevolutionary propaganda, 183, 
 185-186, 194, 325 
 
 Eichardson, O. W., 21 
 
 Eitter, W. E., 66 
 
 Eobinson, W. J., 69 
 
 Eochester, N. Y., 123 
 
INDEX 
 
 357 
 
 Rockefeller Poundation, 125-126, 
 
 296 
 Rockefeller, J. D., Jr., 181, 215 
 Roe, J. W., 159 
 Romanticism, 37 
 Rosenau, M. J., 106, 123 
 Rotary Club, code of ethics, 156 
 Romnania, 139 
 Rowntree, B. S., 178, 203 
 Rubinow, I. M., 203 
 Rucker, W. J., 195 
 Russell, H. N., 336, 338 
 Russia, 139, 194, 293, 325; war 
 
 with Japan, 237; in Persia, 
 
 265 
 Ryan, F. M., 187-188 
 
 Safety engineering, 121, 203 
 
 St. Thomas, 255 
 
 Sanders, A., 96 
 
 Sanitary Control, Board of, 222 
 
 Sanitation, 122-126, 283 
 
 Sayre, F. B., 294 
 
 Schafer, E. A., 50 
 
 Schechter, S., 4 
 
 Schuchert, C, 44, 58 
 
 Science, inductive method, vii, 
 
 1, 32, 175, 227; and Religion, 
 
 27-32, 322-323 
 Scientific Management, 201-203 
 Scott, E. J., 289 
 Sedgwick, W. T., 123 
 Seligman, H. J., 287, 292 
 Senancour, E. P. de, 42 
 See, T. J. J., 43-44, 47 
 Serbia, 139, 305 
 Sex, 67-68; relations in South, 
 
 283-284 
 Shadwell, A., 244 
 Shantung, 267-268 
 Shapley, H., 44-46, 336, 338 
 Sherrington, C. S., 77 
 Shop committees, 217-220 
 Sidis, B., 77 
 Slessor, M., 163 
 Slesvig, 271 
 Slichter, S. H., 203 
 Small, A. W., 80 
 Smallpox, 125-126 
 Smith, Adam, 176, 235 
 Smith, G. E., 59 
 Smith, R. H., 155 
 Social insurance, 203, 327 
 Socialism, materialism, 28; and 
 
 production, 206 j in needle 
 
 trades, 225; German, 235; in- 
 ternational, 303 
 
 Society, not an organism, xviii, 
 316; solidarity of, 11-12, 316- 
 317, 326; as viewpoint, 152, 
 309, 325 
 
 Soil improvement, 101-102 
 
 Solano, E. J., 305 
 
 Sommerville, D. M. Y., 25 
 
 South Africa, 256, 270; treat- 
 ment of natives, 255, 278-281 
 
 Spargo, J., 207 
 
 Species, origin of, 52-55, 341- 
 343 
 
 Speech, 72, 78 
 
 Spencer, Herbert, 82-83, 86 
 
 Sport, 91; international, 297 
 
 Starbuck, E. D., 163 
 
 State, German theory of, 234- 
 235; economic nationalism, 
 236, 244, 248 
 
 Stoddard, L., 256, 263 
 
 Stoddard, W. L., 218 
 
 Stotesbury-Mitten plan, 218-220 
 
 Subconscious, 77, 80-82; training 
 of, 83 
 
 Suggestive therapeutics, 106, 112- 
 115 
 
 Superman, 70, 317 
 
 Surgery, 106 
 
 Switzerland, 241, 300 
 
 Tarbell, I. M., 196, 207 
 
 Tariff, protective, 236, 244-246, 
 248; preferential, 236, 252, 
 259-261, 263, 270; anti-dump- 
 ing, 246; wars, 300; bargain- 
 ing, 300 
 
 Taxes, German, 242-243 ; for colo- 
 nization, 257; of colonies, 261; 
 of natives, 256, 272, 275-277, 
 280 
 
 Taylor, F. W., 201-202 
 
 Tead, O., 210, 228 
 
 Tead and Metcalf, 178, 218 
 
 Teleology, 52, 54, 56, 316 
 
 Terman, L. M., 70, 74 
 
 Textile industry, 183-186, 261- 
 262 
 
 Thayer, W. R., 151 
 
 Thomas, A., 305 
 
 Thompson, C. B., 202 
 
 Thompson, D. W., 343 
 
 Thomson, J. J., 21 
 
 Thomson, W. M., 73 
 
358 
 
 INDEX 
 
 Thorndike, E. L., 73 
 Tolman, E. C, 21-22 
 Training department, 204-205 
 Troland, L. T., 21, 50 
 Tropics, control of, 250, 263 
 Tuberculosis, 124-125 
 Tufts, J. H., 85 
 Turkey, 264, 295, 306 
 Twenty-one Demands, 268 
 Typhoid fever, 123-124 
 
 TJnderhill, F. P., 343 
 
 Unemployment, 203, 248; inter- 
 national, 299, 303-304 
 
 TJnited Mine Workers, in Colo- 
 rado strike, 178-181; contract 
 with Victor American Fuel Co., 
 216 
 
 United States, in Philippines, 
 257; in China, 266-267 
 
 U. S. Steel Corporation, 147, 
 187 
 
 Usher, A. P., 178 
 
 Veblen, T., 238, 245-246 
 Verrill, C. H., 199 
 Vertebrates, 57, 346-347 
 Victor American Fuel Co., 216 
 Vocational training, 74-75; 205- 
 206, 210 
 
 Waddle, C. W., 69 
 
 Wallace, A. E., 47-48 
 
 Wallas, G., 151 
 
 Wanamaker, J., revolution in 
 business methods, 146; state- 
 ment of principles, 147 
 
 War, 121; America's part in, 
 140; practical futility of, 236- 
 237; competition in arma- 
 ments^ 239-241; cost, 242-243; 
 
 Canada's part in, 270; effect 
 on Egypt, 273-274; on Negroes 
 in U. S., 287-288; on world 
 trade, 299; change in moral 
 standards, 327 
 
 War Labor Board, 199-200, 217, 
 219 
 
 Washington lumber industry, 181- 
 183, 195 
 
 Washington, B. T., 93 
 
 Water and sewage purification, 
 123 
 
 Watson, D. M. S., 56 
 
 Watson, J. B., 69 
 
 Webb, S. and B., 178 
 
 Welfare work, 196-197 
 
 Wells, H. G., ix, 165 
 
 West, G. P., 181 
 
 Weyl, W. E., 151 
 
 Wheat breeding, 99-100 
 
 Wheeler, W. E., 269 
 
 White, A. D., 28 
 
 White, W. A., 106 
 
 White, W. F., 286 
 
 Whitman, Walt, 41 
 
 William II, 235, 241, 264 
 
 Williams, J. E., 216 
 
 Williams, W., 211 
 
 Willys-Overland Co., 197 
 
 Winslow, C. H., 222 
 
 Wolf, E. B., 213-215 
 
 Wolff, H. B., 159 
 
 Woodruff, L. L., 49-50 
 
 Woolf, L. S., 294, 297, 303 
 
 Work, M. N., 291 
 
 Wright, q. D., 178, 180 
 
 Yellow fever, 126, 295 
 
 Zinsser, H., 106 
 Zulus, 278-281 
 
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