[01] THERE come moments in our lives that summon all our powers — when
we feel that, casting away illusions, we must decide and act with our utmost
intelligence and energy. So in the lives of peoples come periods specially
calling for earnestness and intelligence.
[02] We seem to have entered one of these periods. Over and again have nations
and civilizations been confronted with problems which, like the riddle of
the Sphinx, not to answer was to be destroyed; but never before have problems
so vast and intricate been presented. This is not strange. That the closing
years of this century must bring up momentous social questions follows from
the material and intellectual progress that has marked its course.
[03] Between the development of society and the development of species there
is a close analogy. In the lowest forms of animal life there is little difference
of parts; both wants and powers are few and simple; movement seems automatic;
and instincts are scarcely distinguishable from those of the vegetable. So
homogeneous are some of these living things, that if cut in pieces, each
piece still lives. But as life rises into higher manifestations, simplicity
gives way to complexity, the parts develop into organs having separate functions
and reciprocal relations, new wants and powers arise, and a greater and greater
degree of intelligence is needed to secure food and avoid danger. Did fish,
bird or beast possess no higher intelligence than the polyp, nature could
bring them forth only to die.
[04] This law — that the increasing complexity and delicacy of organization
which give higher capacity and increased power are accompanied by increased
wants and dangers, and require, therefore, increased intelligence — runs
through nature. In the ascending scale of life at last comes man, the most
highly and delicately organized of animals. Yet not only do his higher powers
require for their use a higher intelligence than exists in other animals,
but without higher intelligence he could not live. His skin is too thin;
his nails too brittle; he is too poorly adapted for running, climbing, swimming
or burrowing. Were he not gifted with intelligence greater than that of any
beast, he would perish from cold, starve from inability to get food, or be
exterminated by animals better equipped for the struggle in which brute instinct
suffices.
[05] In man, however, the intelligence which increases all through nature's
rising scale passes at one bound into an intelligence so superior, that the
difference seems of kind rather than degree. In him, that narrow and seemingly
unconscious intelligence that we call instinct becomes conscious reason,
and the godlike power of adaptation and invention makes feeble man nature's
king.
[06] But with man the ascending line stops. Animal life assumes no higher
form; nor can we affirm that, in all his generations, man, as an animal,
has a whit improved. But progression in another line begins. Where the development
of species ends, social development commences, and that advance of society
that we call civilization so increases human powers, that between savage
and civilized man there is a gulf so vast as to suggest the gulf between
the highly organized animal and the oyster glued to the rocks. And with every
advance upon this line new vistas open. When we try to think what knowledge
and power progressive civilization may give to the men of the future, imagination
fails.
[07] In this progression which begins with man, as in that which leads up
to him, the same law holds. Each advance makes a demand for higher and higher
intelligence. With the beginnings of society arises the need for social intelligence — for
that consensus of individual intelligence which forms a public opinion, a
public conscience, a public will, and is manifested in law, institutions
and administration. As society develops, a higher and higher degree of this
social intelligence is required, for the relation of individuals to each
other becomes more intimate and important, and the increasing complexity
of the social organization brings liability to new dangers.
[15] To adjust our institutions to growing needs and changing conditions
is the task which devolves upon us. Prudence, patriotism, human sympathy,
and religious sentiment, alike call upon us to undertake it. There is danger
in reckless change; but greater danger in blind conservatism. The problems
beginning to confront us are grave — so grave that there is fear they
may not be solved in time to prevent great catastrophes. But their gravity
comes from indisposition to recognize frankly and grapple boldly with them.
[16] These dangers, which menace not one country alone, but modern civilization
itself, do but show that a higher civilization is struggling to be born — that
the needs and the aspirations of men have outgrown conditions and institutions
that before sufficed.
[17] A civilization which tends to concentrate wealth and power in the hands
of a fortunate few, and to make of others mere human machines, must inevitably
evolve anarchy and bring destruction. But a civilization is possible in which
the poorest could have all the comforts and conveniences now enjoyed by the
rich; in which prisons and almshouses would be needless, and charitable societies
unthought of. Such a civilization waits only for the social intelligence
that will adapt means to ends. Powers that might give plenty to all are already
in our hands. Though there is poverty and want, there is, yet, seeming embarrassment
from the very excess of wealth-producing forces. "Give us but a market," say
manufacturers, "and we will supply goods without end!" "Give
us but work!" cry idle men.
[18] The evils that begin to appear spring from the fact that the application
of intelligence to social affairs has not kept pace with the application
of intelligence to individual needs and material ends. Natural science strides
forward, but political science lags. With all our progress in the arts which
produce wealth, we have made no progress in securing its equitable distribution.
Knowledge has vastly increased; industry and commerce have been revolutionized;
but whether free trade or protection is best for a nation we are not yet
agreed. We have brought machinery to a pitch of perfection that, fifty years
ago, could not have been imagined; but, in the presence of political corruption,
we seem as helpless as idiots. The East River bridge is a crowning triumph
of mechanical skill; but to get it built a leading citizen of Brooklyn had
to carry to New York sixty thousand dollars in a carpet bag to bribe New
York aldermen. The human soul that thought out the great bridge is prisoned
in a crazed and broken body that lies bedfast, and could watch it grow only
by peering through a telescope. Nevertheless, the weight of the immense mass
is estimated and adjusted for every inch. But the skill of the engineer could
not prevent condemned wire being smuggled into the cable.
[19] The progress of civilization requires that more and more intelligence
be devoted to social affairs, and this not the intelligence of the few, but
that of the many. We cannot safely leave politics to politicians, or political
economy to college professors. The people themselves must think, because
the people alone can act.
[20] In a "journal of civilization" a professed teacher declares
the saving word for society to be that each shall mind his own business.
This is the gospel of selfishness, soothing as soft flutes to those who,
having fared well themselves, think everybody should be satisfied. But the
salvation of society, the hope for the free, full development of humanity,
is in the gospel of brotherhood — the gospel of Christ.
Social progress makes the well-being of all more and more
the business of
each; it binds
all closer and closer together in bonds from which none
can escape. He who observes the law and the proprieties,
and
cares for his
family, yet
takes
no interest in the general weal, and gives no thought to
those who are trodden under foot, save now and then to
bestow aims,
is not
a true Christian.
Nor
is he a good citizen. The duty of the citizen is more and
harder than this.
[21] The intelligence required for the solving of social problems is not
a thing of the mere intellect. It must be animated with the religious sentiment
and warm with sympathy for human suffering. It must stretch out beyond self-interest,
whether it be the self-interest of the few or of the many. It must seek justice.
For at the bottom of every social problem we will find a social wrong. ...
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