New ^atk natt (5aUc90 nf Agriculture At (Hocnell ImnerBttB 3tt)aca. N. f . The original of tiiis book is in tine Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924013770544 VOCATIONS SETTING FORTH THE VARIOUS PHASES OF THE MECHANIC ARTS, HOME-MAKING, FARMING AND IVOODCRAFT, BUSI- NESS, THE PROFESSIONS OF LAW, MINISTRY AND MEDICINE, PUBLIC SERVICE, LITERATURE AND JOURNALISM, TEACHING, MUSIC, PUBLIC ENTERTAINMENT AND THE FINE ARTS ■. iVITH PRACTICAL INTRODUCTIONS BY A CORPS OF ASSOCI- ATE EDITORS WILLIAM DeWITT HYDE, D.D., LLD. Editor-in-Chief NATHAN HASKELL DOLE, CAROLINE TICKNOR AND ALBERT WALTER TOLMAN, A.M. ASSISTANT EDITORS TEN- VOL UMES RICHL Y ILL USTRA TED BOSTON HALL AND LOCKE COMPANY PUBLISHERS EDITORIAL BOARD WILLIAM DeWITTHTDE, D.D., LL.D., Editor-in-chief, Author, President Bowdoin Col- lege; Brunswick, Maine. RICHARD COCKBURN MACLAURIN, Sc.D., LL.D., Author, President Massachusetts Institute of Technology; Boston, Massachusetts. MARION HARLAITD (Mrs. Mary Virginia Terhune), Author, Lecturer; New York City. LIBERTT HYDE BAILEY, A.M., Author, Editor, Director New York State College of Agriculture, Cornell University; Ithaca, New York. audrew carbegib, ll.d.. Author, Lord Rector St. An- drew's University; New York City. Tbe HON. MELVILLE WESTON FULLER, LL.D., Chancellor Smithsonian Institute, Member Permanent Court of Ar- bitration at The Hague, Chief Jus- tice of the United States; Wash- ington, District of Columbia. The HON. JAMES RUDOLPH GARFIELD, LL.D.. Former Secretary of the Interior; Mentor, Ohio. MART EMMA WOOLLET, LittJ)., L.H.D., President Mt. Holyoke College; South Hadley, Massachusetts. HENRY VAN DYKE, D.D., LL.D., Author, Professor of English Lit- erature, Princeton University; Princeton, New Jersey. HORATIO PARKER, Mus.Doc, Composer, Professor of the Theory of Music, Yale University; New Haven, Connecticut. KENYON COX, A.N.A., N.A., Author and Artist; New York City. NATHAN HASKELL DOLE, Author, Lecturer, Editor; Boston, Massachusetts. CAROLINE TICKNOR, Author, Editor; Boston, Massa- chusetts. ALBERT WALTER TOLMAN. A.M. Author; Portland, Maine. LIST OF VOLUMES Volume I. THE MECHANIC ARTS Edited by Richaed Cockburn Maclaurin, Sc.D., LL.D. Volume II. homemaking Edited by Marion Harland Volume III. FARM AND FOREST Edited by Liberty Hyde Bailey, A.M. Volume IV. BUSINESS Edited by Andrew Carnegie, LL.D. Volume V. THE PROFESSIOHS Edited by Melville Weston Fuller, LL.D. Volume VI. PUBLIC SERVICE Edited by James Rudolph Garfield, LL.D. Volume VII. EDUCATION Edited by Mary Emma Woolley, LiTT.D., L.H.D. Volume VIII. LITERATURE Edited by Henry Van Dyke, D.D., LL.D. Volume IX. MUSIC AND PUBLIC ENTERTAINMENT Edited by Horatio Parker, MtJS. Doc. Volume X. THE FINE ARTS Edited by Kenyon Cox, A.N.A., N.A. After the pnivt.ino by p f rothermel Drafting the Declaration VOCATIONS, in Ten Volumes William DelVitt Hyde, Editor-in-Chief PUBLIC SERVICE EDITED BY JAMES RUDOLPH GARFIELD, LL.D. VOLUME VI BOSTON HALL AND LOCKE COMPANY PUBLISHERS GOPTBIOHT, 1011 Bt hall & LOCKE COMPANY Boston, U. S. A. ^17349 Stanbope ipreflfl H. CILSOM COUPANY ilOSTOH. U.S.A. CONTENTS FAasi List of Colored Illustrations . xi Introduction xiii By Jameb Ritdodph Gakfield, LL.D., Former Secretary of the Interior. GOOD CITIZENSHIP The Meaning of Citizenship in Republics . 1 By Theodohb Roosevelt, LL.D. Soldiers of Peace 22 Br Joseph Wingate Folk, LL.B., Fobmer Governor of Missouri. The Young Man and the Nation .32 Bt Albert Jeremiah Beveridge, United States Senator. Intelligent Prepabation for Public Service ... 54 Bt Arthur Twining Hadley, LL.D., President of Yale University. How a President is Elected . 61 By 'A. Maurice Low. The Governor's Rehearsal ... 81 By Charles Warren, A.M. MUNICIPAL SERVICE An Engine-house at Night 102 By Cleveland Moffett. A Fiery Ordeal . . . 108 By Albert W. Tolman, A Public Housekeeper . 114 By Sarah Comstock. Golden-Rule Jones, the Late Mayor of Toledo 118 By Ernest Crosby. Municipal Government 139 By Charles W. Eliot, M.D., LLD., President Emeritus, Harvard University. THE CIVIL AND FOREIGN SERVICE Heroes of the Surf . . .150 By John Randolph Spears. Joshua James, Life-Saver ... . 158 By Sumner Increase Kimball, Sc.D. The Conservation of Natural Resources 168 By Gifford Pinchot, LL.D,, President Conservation Association. Opportunities in the Federal Civil Service ... 178 Bt El Bie K. Foltz. X Contents FAOB Young Americans in the Consular Service . . . 200 By Jaues Edmttnd Dxn^fiNG, U. S. Consul at Havbe. Consular Service 212 By Herbert C. Hengsteb. American Diplomacy 216 By John Hay. ARMY AND NAVY The Army Training Schools at Fokt Riley .... 221 By Chaeles S. West. The Life of an Enlisted Soldier in the United States Army 231 Bt Lieutenant-Colonel Alfred Retnolds. Clara Barton, Founder of the Society of the Red Cross 248 By Lucy La:bcom. The War Record of Mary A. Livermore 262 By Elizabeth Stuabt Phelps Wabd. Training for War in a Time of Peace 276 By Major-Genebal Leonard Wood, M.D., LL.D. The Making of a Man-o'-Warsman . . . 296 CHARITIES AND CORRECTIONS Dorothy Dix 315 By Rev. Percy H. Efler. Dr. Barnardo : "The Father of Nobody's Children " . 330 By William Howe Toiaian, Ph.D. District Nursing 345 By Isabel Hampton Robb. Oxygenizing a City 349 By Bubton J. Hendbick. The Art of Saving Character 363 By R. E. Phillips. Ben B. Lindsey: The Just Judge 374 By Lincoln Steftens, A.M. Supplementary Readings 396 LIST OF COLORED ILLUSTRATIONS Drafting the Declaration . Frontispiece Landing op the Pilgrims . Face page 28 The United States Senate in 1850 68 A Fire on the Water Front . 110 A Rescue at Sea .... . 156 Launching the Lifeboat . .... 164 A Village Disaster . . 172 Fhanklin before the Lords in Council, London, 1774 . 214 An Emergency Call 252 Public Service . 332 xl INTRODUCTION By JAMES RUDOLPH GARFIELD, LL.D. Public Service covers a broad field of endeavor and activity. It is a duty resting upon every American citi- zen ; he can not free himself from it, but he may woefully neglect it. A serious mistake, commonly made, is to consider citi- zenship a right rather than a duty. We Americans are prone to lay great stress upon our rights and to forget or shirk our pubhc duties. The truth is that duties come first, they are the foundation for the enjoyment of rights. The rights of liberty and property depend upon the fulfillment of our obligations to our fellow men. Organ- ized society requires the individual to subordinate many . of his personal desires to the good of the whole community, and to assume duties for the pubhc good. Self-government — the democratic ideal toward which we are striving — is impossible unless the great majority of citizens honestly and wisely perform the duties of citizenship. Failure to fulfill these duties inevitably re- sults in government by the few and the establishment of special privileges enjoyed by the few to the detriment of the many. It is idle for men to clamor for rights if, through neglect or indifference, they fail to do their full share of public service for the common good. Rights will be permanently gained whenever duties are performed, not otherwise. xiii xiv Introduction The task of self-government is at best beset with great difficulties; we as a people have taken long steps ahead, but the bigger, richer, and more powerful we grow, the greater are our trials and dangers. The field of pubhc service enlarges with our growth, and the demand upon each of us to do something for the com- mon good becomes steadily greater. It is popular among a certain class of well-to-do people to decry pohtics as debasing and necessarily corrupt. Such people are the worst of citizens. Their opportunities and education shoiild make them appreciate their greater obUgations to society, and yet they hold themselves aloof and utterly fail to do their part in pubUc service. Pohtics will be purified when the dishonest, corrupt pohtician is driven out exactlj- as our industrial life is cleaned by driving out the dishonest, corrupt business man. The cleansing process in each case will take place as the result of hard, intelligent work on the part of decent, right-minded citizens. The name "pohtician" should be one of honor, not reproach. Everj' citizen ought to be in pohtics no matter what his other work. He should find out what pubhc service he can render, fit himself for it, and make it as much a part of his duty as is the care of his family. Thus he becomes a good citizen. There is no lack of opportunity for pohtical service — it is at every door. The trouble is that we usually look too far away; we see the big things and are blind to the needs close at hand. We are apt to be more interested in pohtical problems than in the practical work needed to solve the problems. The pohtical service of most men consists in voting. The duty of each man, therefore, is to make himseK a power for good in the smallest pohtical division, at the primary and election. It may not be so fascinating to Introduction xv work in a ward, for the election of an honest councilman, as it is to dream of what you might do if you were in office, but it is a far more effective way to ensure good government. The election and continuance in office of bad men is possible because citizens fail in their fundamental duty of intelligent voting. The worst citizen is not he who takes advantage of indifference but he who is guilty of in- difference. The corrupt political boss is the natural fruit of in- difference and neglect on the part of the voter. It is futile to declaim against bosses if we supinely abandon the ballot box to their domination. It is equally foolish to assail poUtical organizations and leaders. Both are essential to the accompHshment of public work. A duty of the citizen is to choose leaders who make their party and personal interests subservient to the pubhc welfare. Another kind of political service is being a pubUc officer. Many look upon this as the only public service worth doing. Such a view is usually held by those who consider public office not a duty, but a chance for personal gain or advancement. "To the victor belongs the spoils" is the controUing motive of their action. Of course the admin- istration of government on such a policy results in dis- honesty and inefficiency, and yet we have permitted it over and over again. It is a curious characteristic of our citizens, that, while individually they decry inefficiency and corruption in public offices, they collectively tolerate, yes, even excuse, both. Probably the chief reason for this incongruous action is that until recently the burden of government, as evidenced by taxes, has not been generally excessive. Many men felt it was cheaper to be robbed by pubhc officers than to spend the time needed to elect honest xvi Introduction officers. Fortunately, both the pubhc conscience and an inteUigent public opinion have been aroused. The people are not only demanding that the crook and the servants of special interest be kept from office, but they are beginning to perform their own duties as citizens by backing up their demands with effective votes. The expression "Drive the special interests from poli- tics" is the crystalhzation of the sentiment for the right kind of pubhc officers — men whose whole duty and abso- lute loyalty is to the pubhc service, the common good. As a rule, pubhc officers reflect the character of their constituents. They are efficient or inefficient, honest or corrupt, in accordance with the disposition of their con- stituents. If a constituency is content to allow its public officers to represent special interests rather than the pub- hc welfare, we may rest assured that the special interests will see to it that their friends are in office, and whenever a pubhc officer is a representative of any interest other than the pubhc he becomes a danger to popular govern- ment. While the people are themselves primarily responsible there is hkewise a duty upon the pubhc officer to lead in the creation of the right kind of pubhc opinion. The higher the office the greater is the opportunity for such leadership; hence, we should demand in pubhc officers not only integrity and capacity to perform particular duties, but in addition to those quahfications there is needed abihty to lead pubhc thought along progressive lines. The variety of pubhc work to-day required is greater than ever before. It ranges from the ordinary clerical and administrative positions to the most highly mechan- ical and technical. Furthermore, in the federal service in the service of some states and mxmicipahties, the merit Introduction xvii system has been established so that a person can make public service his hfe work, with the assurance that con- tinuance in office will depend upon efficiency and honesty. It is of course essential that pubUc employment shall be under the right kind of a merit system, if the best results for both the government and employee are to be obtained. A merit system that creates permanency of tenure only is vicious, because it inevitably causes inefficiency. The power of removal by the executives should be unham- pered, except for political or religious reasons, but the power of appointment should be absolutely restricted to selection from persons who have proved themselves quali- fied for the particular work required. At this point the merit system has been weak. It is folly to impose ex- aminations which do not bring out the qualifications called for by the actual work to be done. Proper exam- inations are the basis of a good merit system. It is not necessary for a policeman to know the geography of the world, but he should be in the right physical condition, and of good moral character. The merit system has often been justly criticized because of failure to provide the right kind of examinations, but the remedy is to change the examinations, not to abandon the system. The Army and Navy offer peculiar attractions and advantages to both officers and enlisted men, even in time of peace, for the reason that both services are being placed upon bases of the highest efficiency. It is an honor to wear Uncle Sam's uniform — the loafer and drunkard are not kept at the army post and aboard men-of-war. A pubhc service every man should be pre- pared to give is fighting for his country. We shall not be brawlers if we are prepared to fight intelligently, but surely we shall become cowards and weaklings if we edu- cate ourselves and our children on the theory that physi- xviii Introduction cal contest is always to be avoided and that war is a thing of the past. A kind of pubHc service that appeals to many, and should be of interest to all, has to do with social and industrial conditions. We are beginning to understand that we have certain kinds of obUgations to men and women with whom we Uve and work that may be termed collective rather than individual. The more complex society becomes the greater are the number and importance of such obligations. They have to do with intellectual, physical, social, and moral conditions. In society as now existing it is not enough simply to afford equality of opportunity. That is necessary, but it is not enough. Equal opportunity means that the race track of hfe is freed from unfair obstructions — spe- cial advantages — and is put in such condition as to let the best man win. However, we collectively owe more than this to each other. Equal opportunity fails to take into accoimt the widely different conditions in which people are born, Uve, and work. The collective obUgations upon us require that we take such actions as will steadily improve living conditions. Education, the foundation of self-government, must be of a character that \^^^ fit men and women for work. The great majority of citizens wiU earn a Uving by manual work. Our system of education should supply this need by providing trade schools. Thus will manual labor be properly recognized. Combine intelUgence with muscle, train the eye and hand with the mind and we then fit the boy or girl to really enjoy equal opportunity in life's work. Furthermore, by such education, manual labor is dignified as it should be. A trained farmer or mechanic is a far better citizen than a man whose education has Introduction xix made him look down upon manual labor, and whose capacity enables him to be but a poor clerk. Education is not limited to the schools. Citizens like Jane Addams and Jacob Riis have rendered invaluable public service by studying social and industrial condi- tions, making public the facts, and leading the fights for better conditions. The extent of this kind of public service is unlimited. There is much to do for every willing hand. Organiza- tions — religious, philanthropic, and social — are eager for intelligent aid. No one can justly plead lack of oppor- tunity for failure to do a fair share of such public service. This volume contains a collection of articles dealing with certain phases of pubhc service and the views of some citizens who have rendered distinguished public service. The purpose is to afford suggestions that may induce the reader to study his own situation, to find out what public service he can render, and finally to under- take his share of such service. Mentor, Ohio, October 17, 1910 PUBLIC SERVICE THE MEANING OF CITIZENSHIP IN REPUBLICS 1 By THEODORE ROOSEVELT 0-DAY I shall speak to you on the subject of individual citizenship, the one subject of vital 1^ importance to you, my hearers, and to me and my countrymen, because you and we are citizens of great democratic republics. A democratic re- public such as each of ours — an effort to reaUze in its full sense government by, of, and for the people — repre- sents the most gigantic of all possible social experiments, the one fraught with greatest possibiUties ahke for good and for evil. The success of republics like yours and like ours means the glory, and our failure the despair, of mankind; and for you and for us the question of the quaUty of the individual citizen is supreme. Under other forms of government, under the rule of one man or of a very few men, the quality of the rulers is all-important. If, under such governments, the quality of the rulers is high enough, then the nation may for gen- erations lead a brilUant career, and add substantially to the sum of world achievement, no matter how low the quaUty of the average citizen ; because the average citizen is an almost negligible quantity in working out the final results of that type of national greatness. ^ From Address at the Sorbonne, April 23, 1910. 1 2 Public Service But with you and with us the case is different. With you here, and with us in my own home, in the long run success or failure will be conditioned upon the way in which the average man, the average woman, does his or her duty, first in the ordinary, everyday affairs of life, and next in those great occasional crises which call for the heroic virtues. The average citizen must be a good citi- zen if our republics are to succeed. The stream will not permanently rise higher than the main source; and the main source of national power and national greatness is found in the average citizenship of the nation. Therefore it behooves us to do our best to see that the standard of the average citizen is kept high ; and the average can not be kept high unless the standard of the leaders is very much higher. It is well if a large proportion of the leaders in any repub- lic, in any democracy, are, as a matter of course, drawn from the classes represented in this audience to-day; but only provided that those classes possess the gifts of sym- pathy with plain people and of devotion to great ideals. You and those hke you have received special advantages ; you have all of you had the opportunity for mental train- ing; many of you have had leisure; most of you have had a chance for the enjoyment of life far greater than comes to the majority of your fellows. To you and your kind much has been given, and from you much should be expected. Yet there are certain faiUngs against which it is especially incumbent that both men of trained and cultivated intel- lect and men of inherited wealth and position should espe- cially guard themselves, because to these failings they are especially Uable; and if jdelded to, their — your — chances of useful service are at an end. Let those who have, keep, let those who have not, strive to attain, a high standard of cultivation and scholarship. The Meaning of Citizenship in RepubKcs 3 Yet let us remember that these stand second to certain other things. There is need of a sound body and even more need of a sound mind. But above mind and above body stands character — the sum of those quaHties which we mean when we speak of a man's force and courage, of his good faith and sense of honor. I believe in exercise for the body, always provided that we keep in mind that physical development is a means and not an end. I believe, of course, in giving to all the people a good education. But the education must contain much besides book learning in order to be really good. We must ever remember that no keenness and subtleness of intellect, no polish, no cleverness, in any way make up for the lack of the great solid quaUties. Self-restraint, self-mastery, common sense, the power of accepting in- dividual responsibility and yet of acting in conjunction with others, courage and resolution — these are the quali- ties that mark a masterful people. Without them no people can control itself, or save itself from being con- trolled from the outside. I speak to a brilliant assem- blage; I speak in a great university which represents the > flower of the highest intellectual development; I pay all homage to intellect, and to elaborate and specialized train- ing of the intellect ; and yet I know I shall have the assent of all of you present when I add that more important still are the commonplace, everyday qualities and virtues. Such ordinary, everyday qualities include the will and the power to work, to fight at need, and to have plenty of healthy children. The need that the average man shall work is so obvious as hardly to warrant insistence. There are a few people in every country so born that they can lead lives of leisure. These fill a useful function if they make it evident that leisure does not mean idleness; for some of the most valuable work needed by civilization is 4 Public Service essentially non-remunerative in its character, and of course the people who do this work should in large part be drawn from those to whomremunerationis an object of indifference. But the average man must earn his own livelihood. He should be trained to do so, and he should be trained to feel that he occupies a contemptible position if he does not do so; that he is not an object of envy if he is idle, at whichever end of the social scale he stands, but an object of contempt, an object of derision. In the next place, the good man should be both a strong and a brave man; that is, he should be able to fight, he should be able to serve his country as a soldier if the need arises. There are well-meaning philosophers who declaim against the unrighteousness of war. They are right only if they lay all their emphasis upon the unrighteousness. War is a dreadful thing, and unjust war is a crime against humanity. But it is such a crime because it is unjust, not because it is war. The choice must ever be in favor of righteousness, and this whether the alternative be peace or whether the alternative be war. The question must not be merely. Is there to be peace or war? The question must be. Is the right to prevail? Are the great laws of righteousness once more to be fulfilled? And the answer from a strong and virile people must be, "Yes," whatever the cost. Every honorable effort should always be made to avoid war, just as every honorable effort should always be made by the individual in private life tf) keep out of a brawl, to keep out of trouble; but no self-raspecting indi- vidual, no self-respecting nation, can or ought to submit to wrong. Finally, even more important than ability to work, even more important than ability to fight at need, is it to re- member that the chief of blessings for any nation is that it shall leave its seed to inherit the land. It was the crown The Meaning of Citizenship in Republics 5 of blessings in Biblical times; and it is the crown of bless- ings now. The greatest of all curses is the curse of ste- rility, and the severest of all condemnations should be that visited upon wiUful sterility. The first essential in any civilization is that the man and the woman shall be father and mother of healthy children, so that the race shall in- crease and not decrease. Character must show itself in the man's performance both of the duty he owes himself and of the duty he owes the State. The man's foremost duty is owed to himself and his family; and he can do this duty only by earning money, by providing what is essential to material well- being; it is only after this has been done that he can hope to build a higher superstructure on the solid material foundation ; it is only after this has been done that he can help in movements for the general well-being. He must pull his own weight first, and only after this can his surplus strength be of use to the general public. It is not good to excite that bitter laughter which expresses contempt; and contempt is what we feel for the being whose enthusiasm to benefit mankind is such that he is a burden to those nearest him; who wishes to do great things for humanity in the abstract, but who can not keep his wife in comfort or educate his children. Nevertheless, while laying all stress on this point, while not merely acknowledging but insisting upon the fact that there must be a basis of material well-being for the individual as for the nation, let us with equal emphasis insist that this material well-being represents nothing but the foundation, and that the foundation,, though indispen- sable, is worthless unless upon it is raised the superstruc- ture of a higher Ufe. That is why I decline to recognize the mere multi-millionaire, the man of mere wealth, as an asset of value to any country; and especially as not an as- 6 Public Service set to my own country. If he has earned or uses his wealth in a way that malies him of real benefit, of real use — and such is often the case — why, then he does become an asset of worth. But it is the way in which it has been earned or used and not the mere fact of wealth, that entitles him to the credit. There is need in business, as in most other forms of human activity, of the great guiding intelligences. Their places can not be supplied by any number of lesser intelli- gences. It is a good thing that they should have ample recognition, ample reward. But we must not transfer our admiration to the reward instead of to the deed re- warded; and if what should be the reward exists without the service having been rendered, then admiration will come only from those who are mean of soul. The truth is that, after a certain measure of tangible material success or reward has been achieved, the question of increasing it becomes of constantly less importance compared to other things that can be done in life. It is a bad thing for a nation to raise and to admire a false standard of success; and there can be no falser standard than that set by the deification of material well-being in and for itself. The man who, for any cause for which he is himself accountable, has failed to support himself and those for whom he is responsible, ought to feel that he has fallen lamentably short in his prime duty. But the man who, having far surpassed the limit of providing for the wants, both of body and mind, of himself and of those depending upon him, then piles up a great fortune, for the acquisition or retention of which he returns no corresponding benefit to the nation as a whole, should himself be made to feel that, so far from being a desirable, he is an unworthy, citizen of the community; that he is to be neither admired nor envied; that his right-thinking fellow countrymen put The Meaning of Citizenship in Republics 7 him low in the scale of citizenship, and leave him to be con- soled by the admiration of those whose level of purpose is even lower than his own. In fact, it is essential to good citizenship clearly to under- stand that there are certain qualities which we in a democ- racy are prone to admire in and of themselves, which ought by rights to be judged admirable or the reverse solely from the standpoint of the use made of them. Foremost among these I should include two very distinct gifts — the gift of money-making and the gift of oratory. Money-making, the money touch, I have spoken of above. It is a quality which in a moderate degree is essen- tial. It may be useful when developed to a very great degree, but only if accompanied and controlled by other qualities; and without such control the possessor tends to develop into one of the least attractive types produced by a modern industrial democracy. So it is with the orator. It is highly desirable that a leader of opinion in a democracy should be able to state his views clearly and convincingly. But all that the oratory can do of value to the community is to enable the man thus to explain himself; if it enables the orator to per- suade his hearers to put false values on things, it merely makes him a power for mischief. Some excellent public servants have not the gift at all, and must rely upon their deeds to speak for them; and unless the oratory does rep- resent genuine conviction, based on good common sense and able to be translated into efficient performance, then the better the oratory the greater the damage to the public it deceives. Indeed, it is a sign of marked political weak- ness in any commonwealth if the people tend to be carried away by mere oratory, if they tend to value words in and for themselves, as divorced from the deeds for which they are supposed to stand. The phrase-maker, the phrase- 8 Public Service monger, the ready talker, however great his power, whose speech does not make for courage, sobriety, and right understanding, is simply a noxious element in the body politic, and it speaks ill for the public if he has influence over them. To admire the gift of oratory without regard to the moral quality behind the gift is to do wrong to the republic. Of course all that I say of the orator applies with even greater force to the orator's latter-day and more influential brother, the journahst. The power of the journaUst is great, but he is entitled neither to respect nor admiration because of that power unless it is used aright. He can do, and he often does, great good. He can do, and he often does, infinite mischief. All journalists, all writers, for the very reason that they appreciate the vast possibilities of their profession, should bear testimony against those who deeply discredit it. Offenses against taste and morals which are bad enough in a private citizen, are infinitely worse if made into instruments for debauching the com- munity through a newspaper. Mendacity, slander, sen- sationalism, inanity, vapid triviality, all are potent factors for the debauchery of the public mind and conscience. The excuse advanced for vicious writing, that the public demands it and that the demand must be supplied, can no more be admitted than if it were advanced by the pur- veyors of food who sell poisonous adulterations. In short, the good citizen in a republic must realize that he ought to possess two sets of quaUties, and that neither avails without the other. He must have those qualities which make for efficiency; and he also must have those qualities which direct the efficiency into channels for the public good. He is useless if he is inefficient. There is nothing to be done with that type of citizen of whom all that can be said is that he is harmless. Virtue which is The Meaning of Citizenship in Republics 9 dependent upon a sluggish circulation is not impressive. There is little place in active life for the timid good man. The man who is saved by weakness from robust wicked- ness is likewise rendered immune from the robuster virtues. The good citizen in a republic must first of all be able to hold his own. He is no good citizen unless he has the ability which will make him work hard and which at need will make him fight hard. The good citizen is not a good citizen unless he is an efficient citizen. But if a man's efficiency is not guided and regulated by a moral sense, then the more efficient he is the worse he is, the more dangerous to the body politic. Courage, intel- lect, all the masterful quahties, serve but to make a man more evil if they are used merely for that man's own ad- vancement, with brutal indifference to the rights of others. It speaks ill for the community if the community worships these quahties and treats their possessors as heroes regard- less of whether the qualities are used rightly or wrongly. It makes no difference as to the precise way in which this sinister efficiency is shown. It makes no difference whether such a man's force and ability betray themselves in the career of money-maker or politician, soldier or ora- tor, journaUst or popular leader. If the man works for evil, then the more successful he is the more he should be despised and condemned by all upright and far-seeing men. To judge a man merely by success is an abhorrent wrong, and if the people at large habitually so judge men, if they grow to condone wickedness because the wicked man triumphs, they show their inability to understand that in the last analysis free institutions rest upon the char- acter of citizenship, and that by such admiration of evil they prove themselves unfit for hberty. The homely virtues of the household, the ordinary work- aday virtues which make the woman a good, housewife and 10 Public Service housemother, which make the man a hard worker, a good husband and father, a good soldier at need, stand at the bottom of character. But, of course, many others must be added thereto if a State is to be not only free but great. Good citizenship is not good citizenship if exhibited only in the home. There remain the duties of the individual in relation to the State, and these duties are none too easy under conditions which exist where the effort is made to carry on free government in a complex, industrial civili- zation. Perhaps the most important thing the ordinary citizen, and, above all, the leader of ordinary citizens, has to remember in poUtical life is that he must not be a sheer doctrinaire. The closet philosopher, the refined and cultured individual who from his library tells how men ought to be governed under ideal conditions, is of no use in actual governmental work; and the one-sided fanatic, and still more the mob leader, and the insincere man who to achieve power promises what by no possibility can be performed, are not merely useless but noxious. The citizen must have high ideals, and yet he must be able to achieve them in practical fashion. No permanent gofxl comes from aspirations so lofty that they have grown fantastic and have become impossible and indeed undesir- able to realize. The impractif:uble visionary is far less often the guide and precursor than he is the cmbitt(;red foe of the real reformer, of iJie man who, with stumblings and shortcoming's, yet does in some shape, in practical fash- ion, give effect to thf: hop(!S and desires of those; who strive for better things. Woe to the f^mpty phrase-maker, to the empty idealist, wIk), instead of making ready the ground for the man of action, turns against him when he appears and hampers him as lu; does the work! More- over, the preacher of ideals must remembf:r how sorry and contemptible is the figure which he will cut, how great the The Meaning of Citizenship in Republics 11 damage that he will do, if he does not himself, in his own life, strive measurably to realize the ideals that he preaches for others. Let him remember also that the worth of the ideal must be largely determined by the success with which it can in practice be realized. We should abhor the so-called "practical" men whose practicality assumes the shape of that peculiar baseness which finds its expression in disbe- lief in morality and decency, in disregard of high standards of living and conduct. Such a creature is the worst enemy of the body politic. But only less desirable as a citizen is his nominal opponent and real ally, the man of fantastic vision who makes the impossible better forever the enemy of the possible good. We can just as little afford to follow the doctrinaires of an extreme individualism as the doctrinaires of an extreme socialism. Individual initiative, so far from being dis- couraged, should be stimulated; and yet we should remem- ber that, as society develops and grows more complex, we continually find that things which once it was desirable to leave to individual initiative can, under the changed conditions, be performed with better results by common effort. It is quite impossible, and equally undesirable, to draw in theory a hard and fast line which shall always divide the two sets of cases. This every one who is not cursed with the pride of the closet philosopher will see, if he will only take the trouble to think about some of our commonest phenomena. For instance, when people live on isolated farms or in little hamlets, each house can be left to attend to its own drainage and water supply; but the mere multiplication of families in a given area produces new problems which, because they differ in size, are found to differ not only in degree but in kind from the old; and the questions of 12 Public Service drainage and water supply have to be considered from the common standpoint. It is not a matter for absl ract dogmatizing to decide when this point is reached, it is a matter to be tested by practical experiment. Much of the discussion about socialism and individual- ism is entirely pointless, because of failure to agree on terminology. It is not good to be the slave of names. I am a strong individualist by personal habit, inheritance, and conviction; but it is a mcro matter of common sense to recognize that the State, the community, the citizens acting together, can do a number of things better than if they were left to individual action. The individualism which finds its expression in the abuse of physical force is checked very early in the growth of civilization, and we of to-day should in our turn strive to shackle or destroy that individualism which triumphs by greed and cunning, which exploits the weak by craft instead of ruling them by brutality. We ought to go with any man in the effort to bring about justice and the equality of opportunity, to turn the tool user more and more into the tool owner, to shift burdens so that they can be more equitably borne. The deaden- ing effect on any race of the adoption of a logical and extreme socialistic system could not be overstated ; it would spell sheer destruction; it would produce grosser wrong and outrage, fouler immorality, than any existing system. But this does not mean that we may not with great ad- vantage adopt certain of the principles professfd by some given sot of men who happen to call themselves Socialists; to be afraid to do so would be to make a mark of weakness on our part. But we should not take part in acting a lie any more than in teUing a lie. We should not say that mrsn are equal where they are not equal, nor proceed upon the as- The Meaning of Citizenship in RepubHcs 13 sumption that there is an equahty where it does not exist; but we should strive to bring about a measurable equality,' at least to the extent of preventing the inequality which is due to force or fraud. Abraham Lincoln, a man of the plain people, blood of their blood and bone of their bone, who all his life toiled and wrought and suffered for them, and at the end died for them, who always strove to repre- sent them, who would never tell an untruth to or for them, spoke of the doctrine of equality with his usual mixture of idealism and sound common sense. He said (I omit what was of merely local significance) : "I think the authors of the Declaration of Independ- ence intended to include all men, but that they did not mean to declare all men equal in all respects. They did not mean to say all men were equal in color, size, intel- lect, moral development, or social capacity. They defined with tolerable distinctness in what they did consider all men created equal — equal in certain inalienable rights, among which are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happi- ness. This they said, and this they meant. They did not mean to assert the obvious untruth that all were then actually enjoying that equality, or yet that they were about to confer it immediately upon them. They meant to set up a standard maxim for free society which should be familiar to all — constantly looked to, constantly labored for, and, even though never perfectly attained, constantly approximated, and thereby constantly spread- ing and deepening its influence, and augmenting the hap- piness and value of life to all people, everywhere." We are bound in honor to refuse to listen to those men who would make us desist from the effort to do away with the inequality which means injustice; the inequality of right, of opportunity, of privilege. We are bound in honor to strive to bring ever nearer the day when, as far as is 14 Public Service humanly possible, we shall be able to realize the ideal that each man shall have an equal opportunity to show the stuff that is in him by the way in which he renders service. There should, as far as possible, be equality of opportunity to render service; but just as long as there is inequality of service there should and must be inequality of reward. We may be sorry for the general, the painter, the artist, the worker in any profession or of any kind, whose mis- fortune rather than whose fault it is that he does his work ill. But the reward must go to the man who does his work well ; for any other course is to create a new kind of privilege, the privilege of folly and weakness; and special privilege is injustice, whatever form it takes. To say that the thriftless, the lazy, the vicious, the incapable, ought to have the reward given to those Who are farsighted, capable, and upright, is to say what is not true and can not be true. Let us try to level up, but let us beware of the evil of leveling down. If a man stumbles, it is a good thing to help him to his feet. Every one of us needs a helping hand now and then. But if a man lies down, it is a waste of time to try to carry him; and it is a very bad thing for every one if we make men feel that the same reward will come to those who shirk their work and to those who do it. Let us, then, take into account the actual facts of Hfe, and not be misled into following any proposal for achiev- ing the millennium, for recreating the golden age, until we have subjected it to hard-headed examination. On the other hand, it is foolish to reject a proposal merely because it is advanced by visionaries. If a given scheme is pro- posed, look at it on its merits, and, in considering it, dis- regard formulas. It does not matter in the loast who proposes it, or why. If it seems good, try it. If it proves The Meaning of Citizenship in Republics 15 good, accept it; otherwise reject it. There are plenty of men calling themselves Socialists with whom, up to a cer- tain point, it is quite possible to work. If the next step is one which both we and they wish to take, why of course take it, without any regard to the fact that our views as to the tenth step may differ. But, on the other hand, keep clearly in mind that, though it has been worth while to take one step, this does not in the least mean that it may not be highly disadvan- tageous to take the next. It is just as foolish to refuse all progress because people demanding it desire at some points to go to absurd extremes, as it would be to go to these absurd extremes simply because some of the measures advocated by the extremists were wise. The good citizen will demand liberty for himself, and as a matter of pride he will see to it that others receive the lib- erty which he thus claims as his own. Probably the best test of true love of liberty in any country is the way in which minorities are treated in that country. Not only should there be complete liberty in matters of religion and opinion, but complete liberty for each man to lead his life as he desires, provided only that in so doing he does not wrong his neighbor. Persecution is bad because it is per- secution, and without reference to which side happens at the moment to be the persecutor and which the perse- cuted. Class hatred is bad in just the same way, and without any regard to the individual who, at a given time, substitutes loyalty to a class for loyalty to the nation, or substitutes hatred of men because they hap- pen to come in a certain social category, for judgment awarded them according to their conduct. Remember always that the same measure of condem- nation should be extended to the arrogance which would look down upon or crush any man because he is poor, and 16 Public Service to the envy and hatred which would destroy a man be- cause he is wealthy. The overbearing brutality of the man of wealth or power, and the envious and hateful malice directed against wealth or power, are really at root merely different manifestations of the same quality, merely the two sides of the same shield. The man who, if born to wealth and power, exploits and ruins his less fortunate brethren, is at heart the same as the greedy and violent demagogue who excites those who have not property to plunder those who have. The gravest wrong upon his country is inflicted by that man, whatever his station, who seeks to make his countrymen divide primarily on the line that separates class from class, occupation from occupation, men of more wealth from men of less wealth, instead of remembering that the only safe standard is that which judges each man on his worth as a man, whether he be rich or poor, without regard to his profession or to his station in life. Such is the only true democratic test, the only test that can with propriety be applied in a republic. There have been many republics in the past, both in what we call antiquity and in what we call the Middle Ages. They fell, and the prime factor in their fall was the fact that the par- ties tended to divide along the line that separates wealth from poverty. It made no difference which side was suc- cessful; it made no difference whether the republic fell under the rule of an oligarchy or the rule of a mob. In either case, when once loyalty to a class had been substi- tuted for loyalty to the repubhc, the end of the republic was at hand. There is no greater need to-day than the need to keep ever in mind the fact that the cleavage between right and wrong, between good citizenship and bad citizenship, runs at right angles to, and not parellel with, the lines of cleavage between class and class, between occupation and The Meaning of Citizenship in Republics 17 occupation. Ruin looks us in the face if we judge a man by his position instead of judging him by his conduct in that position. In a republic, to be successful we must learn to combine intensity of conviction with a broad tolerance of difference of conviction. Wide differences of opinion in matters of religious, political, and social belief must exist if conscience and intellect alike are not to be stunted, if there is to be room for healthy growth. Bitter internecine hatreds, based on such differences, are signs, not of earnestness of belief, but of that fanaticism which, whether religious or anti-religious, democratic or anti-democratic, is itself but a manifestation of the gloomy bigotry which has been the chief factor in the downfall of so many, many nations. Of one man in especial, beyond any one else, the citizens of a republic should beware, and that is of the man who appeals to them to support him on the ground that he is hostile to other citizens of the republic, that he will secure for those who elect him, in one shape or another, profit at the expense of other citizens of the republic. It makes no difference whether he appeals to class hatred or class interest, to religious or anti-religious prejudice. The man who makes such an appeal should always be presumed to make it for the sake of furthering his own interest. The very last thing that an intelligent and self-respecting mem- ber of a democratic community should do is to reward any public man because that public man says he will get the private citizen something to which this private citizen is not entitled, or will gratify some emotion or animosity which this private citizen ought not to possess. Let me illustrate this by one anecdote from my own experience. A number of years ago I was engaged in cattle-ranching on the great plains of the Western United States. There were no fences. The cattle wandered free, the ownership 18 Public Service of each being determined by the brand; the calves were branded with the brand of the cows they followed. If on the round-up an animal was passed by, the following year it would appear as an unbranded yearling, and was then called a maverick. By the custom of the country these mavericks were branded with the brand of the man on whose range they were found. One day I was riding the range with a newly hired cowboy, and we came upon a maverick. We roped and threw it; then we built a little fire, took out a cinch-ring, heated it at the fire; and the cowboy started to put on the brand. I said to him, "It is So-and-so's brand," naming the man on whose range we happened to be. He answered, "That 's all right, boss; I know my business." In another moment I said to him, "Hold on, you are putting on my brand ! " To which he answered, "That 's all right; I always puts on the boss's brand." I answered, "Oh, very well. Now you go straight back to the ranch and get what is owing to you; I don't need you any longer." He jumped up and said, "Why, what's the matter? I was putting on your brand." And I answered, "Yes, my friend, and if you will steal for me you will steal from me." Now, the same principle which applies in private life applies also in public life. If a public man tries to get your vote by saying that he will do something wrong in your interest, you can be absolutely certain that if ever it becomes worth his while he will do something wrong against your interest. So much for the citizenship of the individual in his rela- tions to his family, to his neighbor, to the State. There The Meaning of Citizenship in RepubUcs 19 remain duties of citizenship which the State, the aggrega- tion of all the individuals, owes in connection with other states, with other nations. Let me say at once that I am no advocate of a foohsh cosmopolitanism. I believe that a man must be a good patriot before he can be, and as the only possible way of being, a good citizen of the world. Experience teaches us that the average man who protests that his international feehng swamps his national feeling, that he does not care for his country because he cares so much for mankind, in actual practice proves himself the foe of mankind; that the man who says that he does not care to be a citizen of any one country, because he is a citizen of the world, is in very fact usually an exceedingly imdesirable citizen of whatever corner of the world he happens at the moment to be in. In the dim future all moral needs and moral standards may change ; but at present, if a man can view his own country and all other coimtries from the same level with tepid indifference, it is wise to distrust him, just as it is wise to distrust the man who can take the same dispas- sionate view of his wife and his mother. However broad and deep a man's sympathies, however intense his activi- ties, he need have no fear that they will be cramped by love of his native land. Now, this does not mean in the least that a man should not wish to do good outside of his native land. On the contrary, just as I think that the man who loves his family is more apt to be a good neighbor than the man who does not, so I think that the most useful member of the family of nations is normally a strongly patriotic nation. So far from patriotism being inconsistent with a proper regard for the rights of other nations, I hold that the true patriot, who is as jealous of the national honor as a gentleman of his own honor, will be careful to see that the nation neither 20 Public Service inflicts nor suffers wrong, just as a gentleman scorns equally to wrong others or to suffer others to wrong him. I do not for one moment admit that political morality is different from private morality, that a j)i-()iiiis(' made on the stump differs from a promise made in private life. I do not for one moment admit that a man should act deceit- fully as a pubhc servant in his deahngs with other nations, any more than that he should act deceit fully in his deal- ings as a private citizen with other private; (;itizens. I do not for one moment admit that a nation should tnsat other nations in a different spirit from that in which an honor- able man would treat other men. In practically applying this principle to the two sets of cases there is, of course, a great practical difference to be taken into account. We speak of international law; but international law is something wholly different from pri- vate or municipal law, and the capital difference is that there is a sanction for the one and no sanction for the other; that there is an outside force which compels individuals to obey the one, while there is no such outside force to com- pel obedience as regards the other. International law will, I believe, as the generations pass, grow stronger and stronger until in some way or other there develops the power to make it respected. But as yet it is only in the first formative period. As yet, as a rule, each nation is of necessity obliged to judge for itself in matlxsrs of vital im- portance between it and its neighbors, and actions must of necessity, where this is the case, be different from what they are where, as among private citizens, there is an out- side force whose action is all-powerful and must b(^ invoked in any crisis of importance. It is the duty of wise statesmen, gifted with the power of looking ahead, to try to encourage and build up every movement which will substitute or tend to substitute some The Meaning of Citizenship in Republics 21 other agency for force in the settlement of international disputes. It is the duty of every honest statesman to try to guide the nation so that it shall not wrong any other nation. But as yet the great civilized peoples, if they are to be true to themselves and to the cause of humanity and civilization, must keep ever in mind that in the last resort they must possess both the will and the power to resent wrongdoing from others. The men who sanely believe in a lofty morality preach righteousness; but they do not preach weakness, whether among private citizens or among nations. We believe that our ideals should be high, but not so high as to make it impossible measurably to realize them. We sincerely and earnestly believe in peace; but if peace and justice con- flict, we scorn the man who would not stand for justice though the whole world came in arms against him. SOLDIERS OF PEACES By JOSEPH W. FOLK ^^^^SpJOME years ago, in one of the great cities, fi^^^^M there was held a banquet, attended by a num- ^^^^lfl| ber of prominent business men. After the repast was over the band played "America," and the audience stood and sang the familiar words. As the last strains of the song died away, one of the men, with tears trickling down his cheeks, said, "Oh, that I could die for my country!" Just three weeks after that this same man was cringing at the feet of justice, confessing that he had bribed an en- tire municipal assembly to purchase a railroad franchise ordinance. This man seemed anxious to die for his country, but his conduct showed he had been unwilling to live for his coun- try. He aspired to be a patriot of war, and he was in fact a traitor of peace. He was but a type of many other men a few years ago, before the great awakening of the Ameri- can conscience. Under the inspiration of the spirit of civic righteousness now abroad, we are learning that the man who lives for his country may be as much of a patriot as he who dies for it. It should not be forgotten that there may be as much patriotism in giving one's time to the improvement of civic conditions and in electing good men to office as in baring one's breast to the bullets of the public enemy. The country needs patriots of peace as well as patriots of ' By permission of the Autlior, "The Youth's Companion," and Ginn and Company. Copyright, 1907. 22 Soldiers of Peace 23 war. It may not fall to the lot of many to go to battle under the flag, but every young American can rest assured there is a place for him in civic life where he can be of service. It is the everyday patriotism on which the safety of the republic rests, not that which hes dormant until thrilled by flying banners and martial music. Yet history shows that the great republics of old — Rome, Carthage, Athens, Florence, Venice — were overthrown through corruption in times of peace. "How can I live for my country?" the young man asks. He may reside in a rural district, where the opportunities are few for doing anything; he may live in the teeming city, one among so many that he feels lost and helpless when he tries to be of service. There was a country boy once who had no advantages of education, who was of what he termed "common" origin, in a new country with rough surroundings. His environment could hardly have been more discouraging. He wanted to serve his country, yet opportunity seemed lacking. He did not waste time deploring his situation; he did not exhaust his energies in dreaming of the impos- sible nor in waiting to "hit the high places." He did what he could among those with whom he came in contact. Step by step he rose, and to-day the name of Abraham Lincoln is honored wherever the English language is spoken. There never was a time when real men were needed more than now. The need is for more men in public affairs influenced alone by the public good, and fewer of those who are in politics for revenue only. I do not refer to men in public ofiice alone. It is a mistake to suppose that one must hold public office to serve his country. It is just as essential to good government for private citizens to 24 Public Service discharge the duties resting upon them as it is for officials to carry out faithfully their obligations in the pubhc ser- vice. For the greatest obstacle in the way of good govern- ment — government that represents the best there is, not the worst there is — is the inactivity of good citizens. When these disregard their obligations to their country they leave control to undesirable elements. These demand of those elected to represent the people that they be served even if the public interests suffer. If an official refuses to prostitute his trust, he is put under the ban of their dis- approval, and forever after that debarred from holding public office — that is, if these elements have their way. But they are swept aside when the people are aroused. No matter how strong the lawless may be, their strength does not amount to much when it comes in contact with an aroused public conscience. This was demonstrated in the elections of 1905. Wher- ever the issue was made between the law and the lawless, the law was triumphant. What was done in Philadelphia, in Cincinnati and in Pittsburg can be done everywhere. The people of any locality can overthrow civic evils when- ever they wish, and can secure a government just as good as they want to make it, or as bad as they permit it to become. There is hardly a community in all the country where the law-abiding people are not in the majority. They are generally quiet, though, while the lawless are usually so vociferous as to deceive many as to their number. A dozen lawbreakers can make more noise than five hun- dred law-abiding citizens. Go wherever you will, whenever the lawless have strength in pohtics or grafters rule, it is because of the default of the law-abiding. To combat the things of evil, men of courage are wanted Soldiers of Peace 25 to stand in the front, ranks of truth and repel the assaults of the enemy; men are wanted to meet the sophistries of error and the subtle attacks of the enemies of the people's welfare. Soldiers of duty are the greatest need. One day in the Revolutionary War a lame blacksmith's boy was disconsolate because he could not go to fight the Hessians, as many of his companions had done. Some soldiers rode up to the shop in great haste and wanted to know if there was any one there who could shoe a horse. The boy rephed, "I think I can." When the horse was shod, one of the men said, "Boy, no ten men who have left you to-day have served their country as you have." If Luke Varnimi, the lame boy, had not been in the blacksmith's shop that day Colonel Warner's horse could not have carried him so swiftly as to arrive just in time to save the Battle of Bennington. The boy was denied the privilege of fighting in battle, but in doing the -duty that was nearest he performed a greater service. This story illustrates how we may, in longing for opportunities that are beyond us, neglect the present duties on which our destinies may turn. There is a solemn duty for every man in this repubUc. This is a government, in theory, of the people, for the people, and by the people. If it is not so in fact anywhere the people axe to blame. Whenever corruption grows up it is not because the people govern, but because they do not govern, through indifference. I wish the duties of citizenship were taught to the young more in every school, so that aU might appreciate what it means to be an American citizen. The selfish people who would make money at the expense of the common good are morally blind, and can not appreciate how the indi- vidual serves his interest by promoting the pubhc good. 26 Public Service Those who understand the relation of the common good to the individual interest should inculcate among the people the supreme value of this doctrine. It would be well to have the pupils rise in their places each morning and put the question, "How can man serve his best interest?" and then give the answer, "Man serves his best interest by promoting the common good." This idea is the foundation of character building, and is a most important subject of education. In a monarchy- all authority is in the crown, and is delegated by the king to those beneath. In a republic such as ours the people are sovereign. Each American is one-seventy-five-mil- lionth of a sovereign on the throne of American manhood. It may seem small, but it marks the difference between the citizen and the subject. Men have died and millions have been spent in order to give us the right of free citizenship, and we would give up our lives rather than lose it. Yet there are many who do not appreciate the privilege of citizenship and are unmind- ful of its responsibihties. Some may think if the govern- ment were left entirely to them, public evils could not exist. But they have a portion of the responsibility now. Are they faithful to that trust? He that is faithless with a portion can not be trusted with the whole. I have sometimes thought that those men who thrill with patriotic fervor at the thought of going to war and fighting for their country, and then forget to take part in the selection of those who represent the people in official capacity, might prize the priceless privileges of citizenship more if they could see how those who lose it beg for its restoration. The enemies of peace must always be contended against. The greatest enemies to a representative government are those who promote lawlessness. In a republic the govern- Soldiers of Peace 27 ment rests entirely upon the law, which the people make for themselves. The rule of law means the reign of the people, for a majority of the people make the laws. It is usually more difficult, however, to get good laws enforced than it is to enact them. Laws which have been made to please the moral element have been left unen- forced, to please the immoral element. The law is merely a weapon in the hands of officials, for without officials to execute them, laws would be as useless as cannon in war without men. We need more respect for existing laws rather than new laws. The only way the people can govern is through the laws made by their representatives. If these laws are not obeyed, then instead of a government by the people, there is a government by those with wealth or influence enough to obtain oflficial nuUification of laws. The time will come when official oath-breaking will no more be submitted to than ofiicial grafting. The lawlessness of dramshop- keepers, of dive-keepers, or of trusts should not be counte- nanced any more than train robbery or any other crime. The laws of a state are the life of that state, and no man loves his state who deliberately disobeys her laws. Some oppose the enforcement of a law because they allege pubhc sentiment is against the law. The only correct way to determine public sentiment is by the expression of the people's will through the law-making body. If there is not enough public sentiment to repeal a law it can not be against pubhc sentiment. This so-called pubhc senti- ment m'ged against the enforcement of any law can usually be found to be the clamor of the lawless element and those having especial interests to serve by violating the law. Until 1901 the laws against bribery in all the states were considered dead letters. For the hundred years preceding 28 Public Service there had been only some thirty-four cases of bribery reported. At last came the revelations, and the people awoke to the realization of the fact that bribery is treason. They learned that no government can long exist where official acts can be bought and sold like merchandise. They reahzed that a government by "graft" was a government by venal wealth and not by the people. They saw the offense in all its enormity, and from one end of the land to the other there was an awakening on this subject. Now everywhere officials are made to give an account at the bar of public opinion for all official acts, and those who prostitute their trust and sell the powers that belong not to them but to the people, are being made to answer for the offenses. This civic awakening to the necessity of stamping out the things that dishonor in public life and the things that oppress in private life, the revelations of public corruption and of private grafting do not indicate a moral degenera- tion, but a moral regeneration. They do not mean that men are worse, but that men are better. They show that the new inspiration is to get right rather' than to get rich. The American people had been so busy with other things for seventy-five years that they had little time to devote to civic ideals. For thirty years prior to the Civil War public attention was fixed on the question of slavery. There was no time to consider other questions. For nearly forty years after the Civil War public thought was engaged in the settlement of the great questions arising out of that fierce conflict. While the people's minds were directed to other matters they were oblivious to the sowing of the seed and the grad- ual development of the harvest of graft. At last the fact r > z D Z a Tl H I m Soldiers of Peace 29 became known and the knowledge spread that this civic disease was rife in many municipalities. At first it was thought that this condition was confined to the cities. Then came another awakening, and the people learned that some state and national officials were forgetting their high trusts and were becoming involved in the meshes of greed. The remedy for public and private corruption has been found in the conscience of the people. The moral revival that is now going on all over the country is simply the pa- triotism that comes from the hearts of the people, a deter- mination to stamp out the things that oppress in private life and that dishonor in public life — a firm resolve that government shall be representative of the best, not the worst. A few years ago men would give and take bribes and still consider themselves honest. They have been taught better now. The public conscience has been aroused to the necessity of putting a stop to the offense that strikes at the heart of free government, and being aroused, has set itself to correcting rascality in private business as well as in public office. The officials of some of the great corporations were found to be using trust funds in their hands for their own gain. They, too, no doubt considered themselves honest, but they, too, have now learned the great lesson. The entire nation has been roused during the past four years by the exposures of official venality and of private crookedness. There are some who can see in these things only darkness for the future. To my mind the hope of the perpetuity of the government by the people was never brighter than it is at the present time. We had reached the danger line, the point where other republics had begun to decline, where wealth and luxury were sapping the morals of the people, and where the people were indifferent to 30 Public Service their duties as citizens, and corruption seemed to have fastened itself on the body poUtic. Many great crimes of modern times have been rendered possible by the fact that the people as a rule have been honest, but indifferent. They have learned now the neces- sity for aggressiveness, and we are, I believe, but in the beginning of the crusade for higher ideals in pubUc and private hfe. This revolution in the conscience of man- kind has been brought about by the energies of good citi- zens, who are soldiers of peace. There is a constant conflict between law and lawlessness, right and wrong, the true and the false, the evil and the good in every sphere of life. Lawlessness, the false, the wrong, must always be fought against. The ideal and the good must continually be fought for. The bad thrives by its own greed and feeds on its own wickedness. The useful grain must be sown and cared for, else the weeds will choke it out, while the thistles scattered by chance will flourish anywhere. So the good in goverimaent does not exist by accident, but must be nurtured by good citizens. We must likewise contend actively against the evils that creep into government. It is one thing to be against wrong; it is quite another thing to fight wrong. One is a noncombatant that never won a cause, and the other a soldier in the fight. Plenty of men can be honest pas- sively, but what we need is men who can be honest in action. I received a letter a few months ago, enclosing a petition from a number of citizens of one of the counties of Missouri, saying that the dramshop law was not being enforced in their township, and requesting that the sheriff be directed to execute the law there. I wrote to the sheriff, telling him of the petition that Soldiers of Peace 31 had been received, and asking him to see that the laws were upheld in that township as well as in every other part of the county. He wrote in reply, requesting me to send him the list of names on the petition, in order that he might have their aid in enforcing the law. I did not know whether he was in good faith or not, but the petition was sent him. In a few days a letter came from a man whose name was on the petition, severely criti- cizing me for giving out the names, and asldng by what principle of ethics I sent the sheriff the names of citizens who signed the petition urging the enforcement of the law in their township. I rephed that I had sent the sheriff the list of names because any man who is afraid to show his colors is of no benefit to good government. The citizen wTote in a few days, apologizing for his former letter, and saying that he had never considered the question in that light; that he had consulted with others who had signed the petition, and they had determined that in the future they would stand in the open and be as aggressive as the other side. It is needless to say that since then there has been no trouble about the law being enforced in that township. What was done in that little township can be accom- phshed in any place when those who believe in the right become as aggressive as those who stand for the wrong. Our forefathers fought to give us this government whereby rights are secured which were never obtained or exercised by any other people. It is for us to preserve it as a government by the people. They struggled against the enemies without to give us this nation; we must con- tend against the enemies within to keep it. They fought as soldiers of war to bring the nation into being; we must fight as soldiers of peace to preserve it. THE YOUNG MAN AND THE NATION ^ By albert J. BEVERIDGE OU are an American — remember that; and be proud of it, too. It is the noblest cir- cumstance in your life. Think what it means: the greatest people on earth — to be one of that people ; the most powerful nation — to be a member of that nation; the best and freest institutions among men — to live under those institutions; the rich- est land under any flag — to know that land for your country and your home; the most fortunate period in human history — to live in such a day. This is a dim and narrow outline of what it means to be an American. Glory in that fact, therefore. Your very being cannot be too highly charged with Americanism. And do not be afraid to assert it. The world forgives the egotist of patriotism. " We Germans fear God, and nothing else!" thundered Bis- marck on closing his greatest speech before the Reichs- tag. It was the very frenzy of pride of race and country. Yet even his enemies applauded. If it was narrow, it was grandly patriotic. It was more: it appealed to the elemental in their breasts. Love of one's own is a universal and deathless passion, common not only to human beings but also shared by all animated creation. Be an American, therefore, to the uttermost limit of consciousness and feeling. Thank God each day that your lot has fallen beneath the Stars 'By courteous permission of the Author and the publishers. From "The Young Man and the World." Copyright, 1905, by D. Appleton and Company. 32 The Young Man and the Nation 33 and Stripes. It is a sacred flag. There is only one holier emblem known to man. You have American conditions about you every day, and so their value and advantage become commonplace and unnoted. To any young man afflicted with the disease of thinking life hard and burdens heavy in this Republic, I loiow of no remedy equal to a trip abroad. You will find things to admire in France; you will ap- plaud things in Germany; you will see much in other lands that suggests modifications of American methods. But after you have traveled all over the earth; after you have seen Teutonic system made ten times more perfect in Japan, and Slav patience outdone in China; in short, after you circle the globe and sojourn among its peoples, you will come home a living, breathing, thinking Fourth of July. Of course I do not mean that we are perfect — we are still crude; or that we have not made mistakes — we have rioted in error; or that other nations can not teach us something — we can learn greatly from them, and we shall. But this is the point as it affects you, young man: Among all the uncoimted millions of human beings on this earth, none has the opportunities to make the most of life that the j^oung American has. No government now existing or described by history gives you such Hberty of effort, or scatters before and aroimd j^ou such chances. No soil now occupied by any separate nation is so bountiful or resourceful. No other people have our ^Imerican unwearied spirit of j^outh. The composite brain of no other nation 3delds in thought and ideas like the combined intellect of the American milhons. For, look you, om- institutions invite every man to do his best. There is positively no position which a man of 34 Public Service sufficient mind, energy, and character can not obtain, no reward he can not win. Everybody, therefore, is Uter- ally "putting in his best licks" in America. In other countries there is in comparison a general atmosphere of "what's the use?" — a comparative slumberousness of activity and effort. Then, again, the American people are made up of the world's boldest spirits and the descendants of such. The Puritans, who gave force, direction, and elevation to our national thought and purpose, were the stoutest hearts, the most productive minds of their time. Their char- acteristics have not disappeared from their children. The same is true, generally, but of course in an in- finitely lesser degree, of most of our immigrants. Usually it is the nervy and imaginative men who go to a new country. Our own pioneers were endowed with daring and vision. They had the courage and initiative to leave the scarcely warmed beds of their new-made homes and push farther on into the wilderness. The blue-eyed, light-haired Swede who, among all in his little Scandinavian village, decides to come to Amer- ica; the Irishman who does the like, are, for the most part, the hopeful, venturesome, self-reliant members of their communities across the sea. The German who turns his face from the Fatherland, seeking a new home half across the world, brings us some of the most vigorous blood in the Kaiser's empire. Such men beheve in bet- ter things — have the will to try to get those better things. Thus, the American Republic is an absorbent of the optimism of the world. We attract to ourselves the children of faith and hope among the common people of other nations. And these are the types we are after. They are the most vital, the least exhausted. I should The Young Man and the Nation 35 not want "the flower" of other nations to immigrate to om- shores. Nature is through with them, and they must be renewed from below. Do not object to human raw material for our citizenship. One or two genera- tions will produce the finished product. What says Emerson: The lord is the peasant that was, The peasant the lord that shall be. The lord is hay, the peasant grass, One dry and one the living tree. The purpose of our institutions is to manufactm-e man- hood. ■Make it impossible for the criminal and diseased, the vicious and the decadent to come to us; bar out those who seek our coimtry merely because they can not sub- sist in their own, and you will find that the remainder of our immigrants are valuable additions to our popula- tions. Don't despise these common people who come to us from other lands. Don't despise the common people anywhere on earth. The ^Master did not go to the "first citizens" for His followers. He selected the hum- blest. He chose fishermen. A promoter of a financial enterprise does not do this. But the Saviom* was not a promoter; He was teacher, reformer. Redeemer. Then, too, consider our imperial location on the globe. If all the minds of all the statesmen who ever hved were combined into one vast intellect of world-wisdom, and if this great composite brain should take an eternity to plan, it could not devise a land better located for power and world-dominance than the American Repubhc. On the east is Etu-ope, with an ocean between. This ocean is a highway for commerce and a fluid fortress for de- fense, an open gateway of trade and a bulwark of peace. On the west is the Orient, with its multitude of mil- 36 Public Service lions. Between Asia and ourselves is again an ocean. And again this ocean is an invitation to effort and a condition of safety. The Republic is thus enthroned between the two great oceans of the world. Its seat of power commands both Europe and Cathay. On the north is slowly building a great people, developing a dominion as imperial as our own. The same speech and blood of kinship make cer- tain the ultimate union with our vital brothers across our northern frontier. To the south is a group of govern- ments over whom the sheer operation of natural forces is already establishing a sort of American oversight and suzerainty. Mark, now, our harbors. Behold how cunningly the Master Strategist has placed along our coasts great ports from which communication with the ends of earth naturally radiates. Consider, too, the sweep of the ocean's currents in relation to this country. Observe the direction and effect of the Gulf Stream, and of the great current of the Pacific seas upon our coasts. Follow on your map the direction of our rivers, and see how nicely Nature has designed the tracery of the RepubHc's waterways. In short, ponder over the incomparable position of this America of yours — this home and country of yours — on the surface of the globe. When you think of it, not only will your mind be uplifted in pride, but you will sink to your knees in prayerful gratitude that the Father has given you such a land, with such opportunities, for your earthly habitation. Attempt now to estimate our resources. Your mathe- matics are not equal to it. The available productivity of the Mississippi Valley exceeds the supply of all the fertile regions of fable or history. The country watered The Young Man and the Nation 37 by the Columbia or the Oregon surpasses in wealth- producing power the valleys of the Nile or the Euphrates in ancient times. Our deposits of coal and iron aheady under development are equaled nowhere on earth ex- cept perhaps by the unopened mines of China; and greater fields of ore and fuel than those which we are now work- ing are known positively to exist within our dominions. The mere indexing of America's material possibihties well- nigh stuns creduhty. But all these are definite and physical things, things you can measure or weigh. More valuable than aU of these combined are our American institutions and our exalted national ideals. You can meditate all day on the reasons for pride in yoiu Americanism, and each reason you think of will suggest others. The examples I have given are only hints. Be proud of yom- Americanism, therefore — earnestly, aggressively, fervently proud of your Americanism. I hke to see patriotism have a reh- gious ardor. It will put you in harmony with the people you are hving among, which, I repeat, is the first con- dition of success. Also it puts a vigor, manliness, mental productivity into you. JNIake it a practice, when going to your busi- ness or yom* work each morning, to reflect how blessed a thing it is to be an American, and why it is a blessed thing. Then observe how your backbone stiffens as you think, how yoiu- step becomes hght and firm, how the very soul of you floods with a kind of sunUght of confidence. There was a time when each one of that masterful race that hved upon the Tiber's bauks, in the days of the Eternal City's greatest glory, beheved that "to be a Roman was greater than to be a king." And the ideals of civic duty were more nearly reahzed in that golden hour 38 Public Service of human history than they had ever been before — or than they have ever been since until now. Very well, young man. If to be a Roman then was greater than to be a king, what is it to be an American now? Think of it! To be an American at the begin- ning of the twentieth century ! Ponder over these eleven words for ten minutes every day. After a while you will begin to appreciate your country, its institutions, and the possibilities which both produce. ReaUzing, then, that you are an American, and that, after all, this is a richer possession than royal birth, make up your mind that you will be worthy of it, and then go ahead and be worthy of it. Be a part of our in- stitutions. And understand clearly what our institutions are. They are not a set of written laws. American in- stitutions are citizens in action. American institutions are the American people in the tangible and physical process of governing themselves. A book ought to be written describing how our gov- ernment actually works. I do not mean the formal machinery of administration and lawmaking at Wash- ington or at our state capitals. These multitudes of officers and groups of departments, these governors and presidents, these legislatures and congresses, are not the government; they are the instrimients of government. The people are the government. What said Lincoln in his greatest utterance? "A government of the people, for the people, and by the people," are the great Ameri- can's words. And Lincoln knew. The real thing is found at the American fireside. This is the forum of both primary and final discussion. These firesides are the hives whence the voters swarm to the polls. The family is the American poUtical unit. Men and measures, candidates and poUcies, are there The Young Man and the Nation 39 discussed, and their fate and that of the Republic de- termined. This is the first phase of our government, the first manifestation of om- institutions. Then comes the machinery through which these mil- lions of homes "run the government." I can not in limited space describe this system of the people; the best I can do is to take a type, an example. In every county of every state of the nation each party has its committee. This committee consists of a man from each precinct in each township of the county. These precinct committee- men are chosen by a process of natm-al selection. They are men who have an aptitude for mai'shaUng their fellow men. In the country districts of the Repubhc thej' are usually men of good character, good ability, good health, alert, sleepless, strong-willed. They are men who have enough mental AdtaUty to believe in something. TMien they cease to be effective they are dropped, and new men substituted by a sort of common consent. There are nearly two hundred thousand precinct committee- men in the United States. These men are a part of American institutions in action. They work all the time. They talk politics and think politics in the midst of theu business or their labor. Their casual conversation with or about everj^ f amily within their jurisdiction keeps them constantly and freshly informed of the tendency of public opinion. They know how each one of their neighbors feels on the subject of protection or the Philippines or ciA-il service or the cm*rency. They know the ^dews of every voter and every voter's wife on public men. They imderstand whether the people think this man honest and that man a mere pretender. The consensus of judgment of these precinct committeemen indicates with 40 Public Service fair accuracy who is the "strongest man" for his party to nominate, and what policies will get the most votes among the people. This is their preliminary work. When platforms have been formulated and candidates have been chosen, these men develop from the partisan passive to the partisan militant. They know those who, in their own party, are "weakening," and by the same token those who are "weakening" in the other party. They know just what argument will reach each man, just what speaker the people of their respective sections want to hear upon public questions. They keep every- body supplied with the right kind of literature from their party's viewpoint. They either take the poll of their precinct or see that it is taken; and that means the putting down in a book the name of each voter, his past pohtical allegiance, his present political inclinations, the probable ballot he will cast, and the like. Not many of these men do this work for money or ofHce. There are too many of them to hope for reward. Primarily they do it because they are naturally Ameri- cans, because they have the gift of government, because they Uke to help "run the show." Thc3y are useful elements of our political life, and they are modest. They seldom ask anything for themselves. They do require, however, that their opinions shall be taken into account as to appointments to office made from tl]cir country, and of course they make their opin- ions felt in all nominating conventions. Without these men our "American institutions" would look beautiful on paper but they would work haltingly. They would move sluggishly. They might even rust, and fall to pieces from decay. This much space has been given to the political pre- The Young Man and the Nation 41 cinct committeeman because, as I have said, he is a type. He is the man who sees that the "citizen" does not forget his citizenship. This great body of men, fresh from the people, of the people, hving among the people, are perpetually renewed from the ranks of the people. All this occurs, as has been said, by a process of natural selection. The same process selects from this great company of "workers" county, district, and state committeemen — county, district, and state chairmen. And the process continues until it culminates in our great national committees, headed by masterful captains of popular government, under whose generalship the enormous work of national and state campaigns is conducted. Very well. If you appreciate your Americanism, young man, show it by being a part of American insti- tutions. Be one of these precinct committeemen, or a county committeeman, or a state committeeman, or a worker of some kind. If you do not, a bad man will; and that will mean bad politics and bad government. You see, this whole question of good government is right up to you. You are the remedy for bad govern- ment, young man — you and not somebody else, not some theory. So be a committeeman or some sort of a "worker" in real politics. Help run our institutions yourself, or, rather, be a part of our institutions yourself. If you have neither the time nor aptitude for such active work, at least be a citizen. That does not mean merely that you shall go to the polls to vote. It does not even mean that you shall go to the primaries only. It means a great deal more than that. At the very least be a member of an active political club which is working for your party's success. There are such clubs in most wards of our cities. 42 Public Service They are the powerhouses of our political system. Party sentiment finds its first public expression there — often it has its beginnings there in the free conversations which characterize such American political societies. You will find the "leaders" gathering there, too; and in the talks among these men those plans gradually take form by which nominations are made and even platforms are formulated. These "leaders" are men who, in the practical work of politics, develop ability, activity, and effectiveness. There is a great deal of sneering at the lesser political loaders in American poUtics. They are called "politi- cians," and the word is used as a term of reproach, and sometimes deservedly. But ordinarily these "leaders," especially in the country districts of the Republic, are men who keep the machinery of free institutions run- ning. The influence of no boss or political general can retain a young man in leadership. Favoritism may give you the place of "local leader"; but nothing but natural qualities can keep you in it. The more we have of honest, high-grade "local leaders," the better. Whether you, young man, become one or not, you ought at least to be a part of the organization, and work with the other young men who are leaders. But be sure to make one condition to your fealty — require them to be honest. "I have no time for politics," said a business man; "it takes all my time and strength to attend to my business." That means that he has no time for free institutions. It means that this "blood-bought privilege" which we call "the priceless American ballot" is not worth so much to him as the turning of a dollar, or even as the loss of a single moment's personal comfort. The Young Man and the Nation 43 "Come down to the club to-night; we are going to talk over the coming campaign," said one man to an- other in an American city ■ of moderate size and ideal conditions. "Excuse me," was the answer; "we have a theater party on hand to-night." Yes; but while the elegant gentleman of society enjoys the witty conversation of chai-ming women, and while the business man is attending to his personal affairs and nothing else, the other fellows ai-e determining nomina- tions, and under the du'ection of able and creative polit- ical captains shaping the pohcies of parties, and in the end the fate of the nation. Of course that is all right if that is your conception of American citizenship. But if tliis is going to be "a government of the people and by the people," you, as one of the people, have got to take part in it. That means j"ou have got to take pai't in it all the time. Occasional spasms of violent ci^ic virtue amount to Uttle in their permanent results. They only scare bad men for a day or two. Their very ardor soon burns them out. The citizen has got to do more than that — he has got to take an every-day-and-every-week interest in our ci\ic life. If he does not, our brave and beautiful experiment in self-government will surety fail and we shall be ruled not even by a trained and skillful tyrant, but by a series of coarse and corrupt oUgarchies. In ancient Israel a certain proportion of the year's produce was given to the Temple. In like manner, if popular government means anything to you, you have got to give up a certain portion of 3^our time and money to being a part of this popular government. Just this is the most important matter in our whole national life. Recently there died the greatest master 44 Public Service of practical politics America has produced. Firmly he had kept his steel hand upon his state for thirty years. A dozen times were mighty efforts made to break his overlordship. Each time his resourcefulness, audacity, and genius confounded his enemies. But finally that undefeated conqueror, Death, took this old veteran captive. He left an able successor in his seat of power, but a man without that prestige of invulnerability which a lifetime of political combat and victory had given the deceased leader. "Here," said every one, "is an op- portunity to overthrow the machine." Within a few months an election occurred — not a national election, but one in which the "machine" might have been crippled. But, mirabile didu, the "good people," the "reform- ers," the "society" and "business" classes, did not come out to vote. They not only formed no plans to set up a new order of things, they did not even go to the polls. Yet these were the descendants of the men who founded the nation and who set free institutions in practical operation. This shows how American institutions, like everything else, have in themselves the seeds of death if they are not properly exercised. When the great body of our citizens becomes afflicted with civic paralysis, it is the easiest thing in the world for the strong and resourceful "boss," by careful selection of his precinct committee men and other local workers all over his state, to seize power — legislative, executive, and even judicial. It has been done more than once in certain places in this country. Where it is successful, the Republic no longer endures. The people no longer rule; an oligarchy rules in the name of the people. And where this is true, the people The Young Man and the Nation 45 deserve their fate. And so, young man, if you do not expect this fate to overtake the entire country, you have got to get right into "the mix of things." You, I say, not some other man, but you, you, you. You — you yourself — you are the one who is respon- sible. Quit your aloofness. Get out of any clubs and desert all associations which sneer at active work in ward and precinct. Do not get political locomotor ataxia. It was a fine thing that was said by a political leader to a singularly brilliant young man from college who, with letters of unhmited indorsement from the presidents of our three greatest universities, asked for a humble place in the diplomatic service. He wanted to make that service his career. "I like your style," said the man whose favor the young fellow was soliciting. "Your ability is excellent, your recommendations perfect, your character above re- proach, your family a guarantee of your moral and mental worth. But you have done nothing yet among real men. "Go back to your home; get out of the exclusive atmosphere of your perfumed surroundings; join the hardest working political club of yom party in your city; report to the local leader for active work; mingle with those who toil and sweat. Do this imtil you 'get a standing' among other yoimg men who are doing things. Thus you will get close to the people whom, after all, you are going to represent. Also this contact with the sharp, keen minds of the most forceful fellows in your town will be the best training you can get for the be- ginning of yom* diplomatic career." "Now let me tell you this," said President Roosevelt to this same young man: "You may have a small under- secretaryship; but let me tell you this," said he; "do not 46 Public Service take it just yet. You are only out of college. Take a postgraduate course with the people. Get down to earth. See what kind of beings these Americans are. Find out from personal contact. If you belong to ex- clusive clubs, quit them, and spend the time you would otherwise spend in their cold and unprofitable atmos- phere in mingling with the people, the common people, merchants and street-car drivers, bankers and working- men. Finally, when you get your post, do as John Hay did — resign in a year, or a couple of years, and come home to your own country, and again for a year or two get down among yom- fellow Americans. In short," said he, "be an American, and never stop being an American." That is it, young man, — that is the whole law and the gospel of this subject. Be an American. And do not be an American of imagination. You can not be an Ameri- can by seeing visions and dreaming dreams. You can not be an American by reading about them. Professor Mtinsterberg's volume will not make you an American any more than a study of tactics out of a book will make you a soldier. It is the field that makes you a soldier. It is march- ing shoulder to shoulder with other soldiers that makes you a soldier. It is mingUng with other Americans that makes you an American. Our eighty millions will make you American. Keep close to them. The soil will make you American. Keep close to it. UtiHze your enthusiasms. Do not neutralize them by permitting them to be vague and impersonal. Be for men and against men. Be for policies and against policies. And remember always that it is far more im- portant to be for somebody and something than to be against. There is an excellent though fortunately a small class of citizens in this and every other country who are The Young Man and the Nation 47 never for anybody but always against somebody. Fre- quently these men are right in their opposition; but their force is dissipated because they are habitually negative. I know of nothing better for a young man's character than that he should become the admirer and follower of some noted public man. Let your discipleship have fer- vor. Permit your youth to be natural. But be sure that the political leader to whom you attach yourself is worthy of your devotion. Usually this will settle itself. Public men will impress you not only by theh deeds, words, and general attitude; but also through a sort of psychic sense within you which illumines and interprets all they say and do, and makes you vmderstand them even better than their spoken words. This subconscious intelligence which the people come to have of a public man is seldom wrong. Some- how or other the people know instinctively those who really are unselfishly devoted to the nation's interest. In the end they never fail to know the man who is honest. This instinctive estimate of the qualities of mind and soul of public men will probably select for you the cap- tain to whom you are to give your allegiance. Be faith- ful and earnest in your championship of him. In this way you make your poUtical life personal and human. You give to the policies in which you believe the warmth and vitality of flesh and blood. And, best of all, you increase within yourself human sympathies and devotions, and thus make yourself more and more one of the people who in due time, in your turn, it may be yom- duty to lead, if the qualities of leadership are in you. This matter of leadership among public men is becom- ing more and more important, because personality in politics is meaning more every day. Obeying generally, 48 Public Service then, your instinct as to the pubhc men whom you intend to follow, subject your choice to the corrective of cold and careful analysis. It is probably true that the greatest danger of our future is the peril of classes, and inseparably connected with classes the menace of demagogy. The last decade has revealed signs that the demagogue, in the modern meaning of that word, is making his appearance in American civic life. Such men always seize the most attractive "cause" as argument to the people for their support. They are quite as willing to pose as the especial apostles of right- eousness and purity as they are to enact the character of the divinely appointed tribunes of patriotism. What- ever the political fashion of the day may be, your dema- gogue will appeal to it. It makes no difference what methods he finds necessary to use, so that he can achieve the power and consequence which is his only purpose. If the ruling tendency be for honesty, these men will make that serve their purpose, or commercialism or ex- pansion or war or peace or what not. There is no conviction about them. Sometimes such a man will rep- resent himself as a great conservative. He does this not because he is conservative (sometimes he does not even know what that word really means), but because he thinks by associating his name with this word he can capture the "solid" elements among the people, business men, and the like. These illustrations can be multiplied without limit. They are as numerous as the "issues" which can be used to influence the people. Beware of the demagogue in whatever guise he presents himself. Look out for the play-actor in poUtics. Whether he wear the cloth of The Young Man and the Nation 49 the pulpit, the uniform of the soldier, the garment of the reformer, he is always the same at heart, never for the people, always for himself; never for the nation and the future, always for power and the present. Make sure, then, that the captain whom you elect to follow is above all other things sincere. Insist upon his being genuine. See to it that he is intellectually honest. I do not mean that he should be honest in money mat- ters alone, or in telling the truth merely. I mean that he should be square with himself, as well as with you and the world. When a public man is honest and in earnest, you know it — know it without knowing why. It is safe to follow such a man as this even when you do not agree with all of his public views. You know that he is honest about them; and a man who is honest within himself will change his views, no matter how dear they may be to him, when he finds that he is mistaken about them. The first and last essential of the men who are to voice the opinion and enact the purposes of the American people is an honesty so perfect that it is un- conscious of itself. "He does not deserve the least credit for being square," said Dr. Albert Shaw, the eminent editor, scholar, and pubhcist, concerning a pubhc man; "he was born that way. His mind is so upright that he can not help saying what he thinks. It would be impossible for him to tell you or the people a falsehood. He is truth personified. His honesty works as naturally as his heart beats, quite free from the influences of his will." That is the kind of a political leader you ought to attach yourself to, while your young days last and your political and civic character is forming. But follow no man who is striving merely to advance his personal interests. What are they to you? Be sure that the 50 Public Service man you choose for your chief is trying to do something for the nation rather than for himself. Of course you will belong to some political party. That is all right. Be a partisan. And be a hearty par- tisan while you are about it. But do not be a narrow one. Never forget that parties are only modes of politi- cal action. They are not sacred, therefore. So never mistake partisanship for patriotism. Remember always that your only reason for belonging to any particular party is because you find that the best method of being an American. When your party is fundamentally wrong on some absolutely vital question of principle which affects the fate of the Repubhc, do not hesitate to leave it. It has ceased to be of any use to you. Because your poHti- cal association has been with certain men is no reason at all for continuing it. Or, rather, it is purely a sen- timental reason, like that which makes the companion- ship of friends so dear, or the comradeship of soldiers so lasting. But do not break away from your party merely be- cause you think it wrong on minor questions. If you think its general tendency right, stay loyally with it through its common mistakes. Try to prevent those mistakes within the party. Fight like a man to make your party take the right course on every question, big or little, as you see it. But when you are unable to convince the majority of your party associates that they are wrong; when they think that you are the person who is wrong, fall in line with them and march in the ranks, battling even more vigorously than you would had you prevailed. If the majority were right and you were wrong, you ought to help execute their views. If the majority were wrong The Young Man and the Nation 51 and you were right, the earher that fact is demonstrated the better for you and everybody. So keep step with your rank and file, whether your party does what you think it ought to do or not on matters of passing moment. But I repeat, on large issues which come to your conscience — on questions which you think affect the destiny of the nation, you are a traitor to the Republic if, in spite of your convictions, you stand by your party and against your country. But to break with your party on minor issues is fool- ish. A certain class is coming to regard leaving one's party as a smart thing. But it is not a smart thing. Quitting your party does not necessarily mean inde- pendence. It may mean that, and then again it may mean stupidity; and still again it may only mean a " sore head," as the political phrase has it. In a country as old as ours there finally comes to be in politics a fundamental division. There is the construc- tive and progressive on the one side, and the destructive and reactionary on the other side. These are merely the centripetal and centrifugal forces of nature at work in human society. Usually it is found that one of these parties is naturally the Governing Party, and the other one is naturally the Party of Opposition. Not only your judgment but your instincts will tell you, young man, to which one of these forces you belong. Each has its uses. You can well serve your country in either organization. It is merely a question as to whether you are in character and temperament a builder, a doer of things, or a critic of things done and the doing of them. Each is necessary. I have no quarrel with your partisan creed, no matter what it is. That is your business. But whatever you are, be national. Be broad. Do not be deceived by 52 Public Service catchwords. Remember that this is a nation in the making. When the first railroad was built across the boundaries of states it modified old-time interpretations of our Constitution. Telegraph and telephone wires, steam and electric rail- ways, all the means of instantaneous communication which this wizard-hke age of ours is weaving from ocean to ocean, are consolidating the American people into a single family. Natural conditions and the ordinary progress of indus- try and invention are making old methods inadequate and unjust. So keep abreast of the growing nation in your poUtical thinking. Solve all American problems from the view-point of the nation, and not from the view-point of state or section. Consider the American people as a People, and not as a lot of separate and hostile communities. Be national. Be an American. Know but one flag. Whatever party you belong to, and whatever your views on public questions, you will never make a pro- found mistake as long as you keep your civic ideals high and pure. Believe in the mission of the American peo- ple. Have faith in our destiny. Never question that this Republic is God's handiwork, and that it wiU surely do His wiU throughout the earth. Understand that we are not living for to-day alone. Keep in mind the future — the tasks, opportunities, and rewards of which, for the American people, will make our large performances of to-day seem like mere sugges- tions. Strive to make yourself worthy of this nation of your ideals. And of all your ideals, let the nation itself be the noblest. Fear not lest you pitch yom- thought too high for American realities and possibiUties. No single The Young Man and the Nation 53 mind can scale the heights the American people will finally conquer. No single imagination can compass the American people's combined acti^^ty, power, and right- eousness even at this present moment. We have defects and deficiencies; fear not, they will be remedied and supphed. We have perplexities and problems; fear not, they will be untangled and solved. We have burdens, foreign and domestic; fear not, we will bear them to the place appointed, and, at the hands of the IMaster who gave us those burdens to carry, receive the reward for the weU-doing of our work, and, strength- ened by om' labor, go on to heavier and nobler tasks which He will have ready and waiting for us. For this nation of ours is here for a purpose. He did not give us om* liberty for nothing, or our location or our physical resources, or any element of our material, intel- lectual, or spiritual power. No, the Father of Lights has thus highly endowed us that we may do the very things which are at our hands to-day, and those other and greater things which wdll follow. It is for us v^ericans to solve the problems that confront us now, and the still harder and deeper ones that we do not yet behold; and we wiU solve them, never doubt. Live up to this ideal of your nation's place and pm-pose in the world, young man. Be an American. INTELLIGENT PREPARATION FOR PUBLIC SERVICE! By ARTHUR TWINING HADLEY, LL.D. JHE trouble with most schemes to prepare men for politics is that they do little but cram the student with facts about our political life and pohtical machinery. These things are well enough in their way; but if anybody imagines that knowledge of facts will give him pohtical efficiency he is greatly mistaken. He must know men rather than facts. He must know how to get at the real wishes and thoughts and feelings of those about him, so that they will see that he is a friend, and not a critic. Knowledge of facts about government is of as much use in teaching a man how to govern as knowledge of facts about poetry in teaching a man how to write poetry — and no more. The most valuable preparation for political activity that you can make during the years of your student Ufe is to get acquainted with as many kinds of men as possible. The boy who lives by himself in college is likely to be iso- lated throughout life. The boy who runs with a clique in college will probably remain his whole life long the repre- sentative of a clique. That boy, on the other hand, who learns while in college the wonderful interest of knowing and influencing different kinds of men may in after life become the representative and leader of the whole nation. Unless you care for other people you can not know them. Unless you know them you can not influence them. Un- ^ By courteous permission of tiie Author and " The Independent." Copyright, 1907. 54 Intelligent Preparation for Public Service 55 less you influence them you can not lead them. I have in mind a college friend of my own who unconsciously pre- pared himself for large success, both at Yale and afterward, by the simple fact that he cared for so many kinds of men. There were others in his class who were more brilliant; there were others who were more tenacious of purpose; there were others who were more skillful in adapting means to ends. But there was no one else in the whole class whose welfare was a matter of concern to everybody as his was, for the simple reason that everybody else's welfare was a matter of concern to him. For this sort of preparation for politics a college fur- nishes an unrivaled field. Nowhere will you have the chance to meet so many kinds of men and know them so intimately. He who utilizes this opportunity has learned thoroughly the first lesson of politics. He who neglects it, no matter how many other things he may have learned, has missed that first lesson; and he will have to learn it for himself under much more difficult circumstances five or ten years hence. Another fine of preparatory work which I strongly rec- ommend is the reading of history, and especially of Amer- ican political history. The chief benefit which you will get from this is not the one which most men would suppose. It is not that you will learn facts about our government. Whatever facts of this sort you learn from books in college you will probably have to unlearn in after life, and sub- stitute some other ones. It is that you get a background of experience which will prevent your own little experience from occupying too much of the picture. The chief benefit derived from reading our history in times past is a certain quiet optimism which comes from contemplating the careers of men like Washington and Hamilton, Jackson and Calhoun, Webster and Lincobi. 56 Public Service When we realize how great their difficulties seemed at the time, and yet how small they look to-day in comparison with the work that they did and the fame they achieved, we shall learn not to be daunted by httle obstacles that look big, or upset by failures which, desperate though they seem for the moment, may be turned into means of suc- cess if we only know how to do it. "To see a good in evil and a hope in ill success" — this is the power which a man has acquired who has read history aright. If we have this sort of mental ballast of historical knowledge, every fact that we learn, whether from books or from experience, can be made to help us. If we have not this sort of mental ballast, the multipUcity of discouraging facts which we meet is liable to swamp us. After leaving college the first thing that a man has to decide is whether he will go into pohtics directly, by iden- tifying himself with a party and running for office, or whether he will be content to promote good government through his indirect influence on legislation and other forms of pubUc activity. Of course the two classes are - not entirely separate. The man who has helped to draft laws and influence public opinion without the hope of office may suddenly find himself promoted to a high posi- tion in the public service at a time when he least expects it. But these cases are the exception, not the rule. The old-fashioned idea that a man could go into pohtics as an honorable amusement to occupy part of his time is not applicable to existing conditions. To be able to go into pohtics professionally without the danger of sacrificing honor a man should have either inde- pendent means of his own or some calling like law or journahsm upon which he can fall back if office can be had only at the sacrifice of principle. If he has such a second string to his bow he can be sure, and his friends can be Intelligent Preparation for Public Service 57 sure, that in standing by a party when it does things of which he disapproves he is actuated by high motives of pubhc service instead of low ones of personal hvelihood. He should also be able to find a party with whose general aims and principles he is sufficiently in sympathy to en- able him to work with it. For, as matters now stand, the machinery of party gov- ernment is an exceedingly important thing in American politics. A man rarely gets office, and still more rarely keeps it, without the aid of this machinery. We may not like this fact ; but a fact it is, and one which we are bound to recognize. Lincoln made use of party machinery. So did Webster. So did Calhoun. So has every statesman, however high his principles, from the time that American politics was organized. If a man has not this natural affiliation with some one party and this independent means of hvelihood, he is likely to do more public service by indirect influence on legisla- tion than by direct participation in politics. If he can make it possible for others to give clean government, he can do quite as much for the country as if he were himself in public office as governor. He can always find plenty of opportunity for this sort of political activity, whether he be rich or poor, partisan or independent. The historic example of this kind of work is the civil service law, providing that tenure of administrative offices shall be based upon fitness and fidelity rather than upon party service. This was no political measiu-e. The men who carried and enforced it, in its successive stages, were for the most part not actively engaged in pubhc employ- ment. Some were Republicans, some were Democrats, some were not identified with any party at all. Yet it would be hard to find men who did more public service than Eaton and Ciu-tis and their associates in this move- 58 Public Service ment, which strengthened the hands of every good man in poHtical office and weakened the hands of every corrupt man. Civil service reform is an accomplished fact. But there are other reforms equally important which still remain to be carried out. The civil service law has put a stop to one particular form of corruption ; but it remains for us to deal more fully with the sources of corruption, by laws which shall make it easier for the people to show what they want and to fix the responsibility for disregarding their wishes ; which shall make it easier for men to govern in accordance with public demand instead of under the dictates of corrupt interests. For instance, the separation of the dates of local and national elections ought to be more complete than it now is. When the two come at the same time, a man lets his vote for mayor or councilman be influenced by his views on national politics; and a corrupt or misguided party leader may succeed in forcing upon the better class of voters a man whom they do not want, by persuading them that his defeat will in some way interfere with the success of the national ticket of which they approve. it is also important to separate the work of the state legislatures more clearly than we now do from the issues of national politics. For this reason I favor the direct election of United States senators by the people. It may be that the present system does not hurt the Sen- ate, but it certainly hurts the state legislatures. If you send a man to the state capital, nominally to make the kind of local laws you need, but actually to elect a man to the United States Senate on national issues, you prevent an elector from voting for the legislator he wants unless that legislator happens to hold certain views about the tariff, and the currency, and some other things that have Intelligent Preparation for Public Service 59 nothing at all to do with state laws. And you often make the legislator himself think that it is of very Uttle conse- quence what kind of laws he makes, as long as he votes straight on a national party issue. Another means of giving the voters power to express their opinion as to the kind of men they want in office would be furnished by what is known as a direct primary law. The old-fashioned system of caucuses gives every advantage to the professional politician in deciding who shall be nominated for office. A thousand men well organ- ized can carry the primaries in the face of five times that number of public-spirited citizens without organization. It is the object of the direct primary law to give every member of a party a chance to vote on nominations, in the same way that every citizen afterward has a chance to express his choice between the nominees of different parties. A thoroughly good direct primary law has not as yet been worked out. This condition of things makes your opportunity and responsibility all the greater, for the matter is practically in your hands. We also need a law which will fix more clearly than is now possible the responsibility of officials, after they are elected, for the good or bad conduct of public affairs. When the Constitution was framed our fathers were so fearful that the Executive would try to be king that they surrounded him with all kinds of checks and balances to prevent him from usurping power. In the few cases where a man is really trying to usurp power these constitutional checks are exceedingly good things; but in the ordinary, every-day running of a government, and particularly of a city government, they work rather badly. If a mayor is anxious to become a tyrant, it is a good thing to have a board of aldermen to stop him. But if he is trying to give the city a businesslike administration, a 60 Public Service board of aldermen whose views are narrower than his may prevent him from doing it; and if he is trying to give the city a corrupt administration, the existence of such a board of aldermen may give him an excuse for saying that it is not his fault. The good man's hands are tied; the bad man is furnished with an apology for his misconduct. For thirty years we have been experimenting with city charters, to see if we could not locate power in responsible hands and hold the man responsible who had the power. Something has been done in this way. Much more re- mains to be done. The men who can devise the right kind of city charter will do an even greater and more difficult piece of public service than the men who established the principles of civil service reform twenty years ago. One more word of advice and I am done. The man who would fully prepare himself for public service must not only do his duty in time of peace, but must be ready for the possible exigencies of war. The fact that for forty years we have not had a war which has seriously strained the powers of the nation should not blind us to the need of preparing to meet the dangers of international conflict from without and the still greater dangers of anarchy and lawlessness from within. If in the places where you settle there is any militia organization really worthy of the name, identify yourselves with it. If there is not, try to estabUsh one. It may be that you will not be called upon for any- thing heroic in the way of military service. I certainly hope that you will not. But if you are ready to meet the danger in advance you will lessen the liability of its com- ing; and if it does come you will have prepared yourselves for the performance of the most vital of all pubhc duties — the duty of protecting your country against imminent destruction. HOW A PRESIDENT IS ELECTED i By a. MAURICE LOW fTSf^"^. HE whole West is for Chicago." ■/5^ "Including St. Louis?" S^AfflR "Oh, well, St. Louis is nothing but a suburb ' ^^*"*^^' of Chicago." This dialogue took place in the banqueting hall of the Arhngton Hotel in the city of Washington. The RepubU- can National Committee was in session to decide the place and time for holding the next RepubUcan Convention and to hear the claims of the contesting cities. It was the Chicago spokesman who comprehensively brought the whole West into that hall m'ging the conunittee to go to Chicago. It was a member of the committee who u-oni- cally asked that innocent question about St. Louis. The answer of the Chicago man was happy — for the moment — and costly later. It raised a laugh, and it was not the first time that a joke in poHtics has turned victory into defeat. When the committee proceeded to baUot for the convention city, Chicago and Philadelphia were tied. Then the St. Louis committeeman, remembering how his city had been slurred by the joculai* orator from Chicago, threw his ballot to Philadelphia. A joke and a baUot won for Philadelphia. It is the fifteenth of December, 1899; the Arhngton Hotel is crowded with men from all parts of the country interested in the proceedings of the National Committee. How the committee comes into being shall be explained ^By courteous permisaion of the Author and Charles Scribner's Sons. Copyright, 1900. 61 62 Public Service later; for the present, at least, the committee is there, and one of its most important duties is to decide the time and place for holding the next national convention. Custom prescribes that the decision shall be reached six months in advance of the date, and that the dominant party shall hold the first convention. There is usually much keen but good-natured rivalry among cities contesting for the honor of what is euphemistically termed "entertaining" the convention. The local politicians are anxious to have their city selected because it brings them into prominence, it gives them a little brief authority, it enables them to find temporary places, with salary, for their henchmen, and the sum of all political equations is places for hench- men. Before the committee appear the oratorical cham- pions, and for several hours oratory flows and promises are made. The boomers are never modest about sound- ing the praises of their cities and dilating on their many advantages. National committees being always hard up, cities have been known to outbid one another for the con- vention and to promise fat contributions to the war-chest. Having decided when and where the convention shall be held, formal announcement of the fact is made to all. good Republicans and the country at large by a circular issued by the chairman. When the national committee decided the date and time for holding the convention they touched the lever which set the machinery in motion. The national committee is the captain on the bridge of the ship, who by the lightest touch of his hand sends his order to the engineer in the depths below. Every one can see the captain, but few see the engineer, and not even the engineer sees the coal- passers, the firemen, the water-tenders and oilers, without whom the machinery would soon jar and stop. The national committee, in a circular, prescribes the How a President is Elected 63 number of delegates to compose the convention and the way in which they shall be elected. A century of poUtics has brought its forms and observances. There are politi- cal traditions. The dominant trait of the Anglo-Saxon is his love of order and system. Wherever the English tongue is spoken there will be unwritten laws, more rigidly adhered to even than the laws enacted by Parliament or Congress. What man has made man can unmake, and the laws of Parliament or Congress may be repealed to meet new conditions, but the laws enacted by custom are sacred. The nomination of a president is brought about under rules as narrowly defined as if they were a part of the Con- stitution ; they are as rigidly obeyed as if their infraction subjected the violator to heavy penalties, and yet they exist merely by the consent of the governed and have validity only because of popular sanction. The National Convention, as defined by the committee, consists of four delegates at large from each state, and two delegates from each congressional district; the terri- tories and the District of Columbia have each two dele- gates. For each delegate elected an alternate is also elected. All delegates must be elected not less than thirty days before the meeting of the convention. Delegates at large are elected by popular state and territorial conventions; district delegates, by conventions called by the congres- sional committee of each district in the same way that representatives in Congress are nominated. And now there is much activity among the politicians, much wire- pulling, much logrolling, much running up and down states, much fixing of slates. At the state conventions a declaration of principles is adopted, and most states in- struct their delegates for whom they shall vote. ^Yhi\e under these instructions the delegates are permitted to 64 Public Service exercise a certain amount of discretion they are generally- considered binding, and a delegate must have good reasons for ignoring his instructions. Likewise at the district con- ventions some of the states instruct the delegates, but as a general thing the delegates go uninstructed, although the sentiment of the state is usually known, and as a mat- ter of honor the delegates are expected to respect this sentiment. Where a state has a "favorite son," his candi- dacy is usually indorsed at the state convention, and it would be treachery for the delegates from that state not to do everything within reasonable limits to compass his nomination. And now the day of all days in the political calendar. The scene, the convention city, the time, the day before the convention meets. For a week past the National Committee has been in session passing upon the contests, which must again be passed upon by the convention itself, selecting the clergyman who shall offer prayer, dealing with the thousand and one things which must be arranged before the convention is called to order. During the week delegates, alternates, newspaper correspondents, and spectators have been crowding in from the four quarters of the Union. The whole city gives itself up to politics, the whole country turns its eyes on the city and waits for the result. The delegates come in, not like a thief in the night, but like a conqueror returning fresh from his victory. For are not the delegates guests of the city, to be " entertained " at their own expense, and is not everything theirs for which they can pay? They come in headed by brass bands, with banners flying, banners which often bear the names of the men for whom they are to vote for the presidency, but which evidently are made on the adjustable plan, for, if the favorite son is defeated, in the twinkling of an eye his How a President is Elected 65 name disappears, and that of the son of destiny takes his place. Politics wastes no time with the dead or defeated; to the man of the hour alone does it pay homage. With then- drums beating and their banners flying, with buttons and badges on their coats so that by their signs they are known, they go to the headquarters which have been previously engaged for them, and before the dust of travel has been removed they are hard at work "sizing up the situation." The ease with which a situation can be sized up depends partly upon the " sizer " andpartly upon the situation . Some situations have been so comphcated that they have re- mained an indefinite quantity until the roll was called and the ballot announced; others have been so easy of solution that the veriest tyro in politics could read them without a key. But this is the exception. Usually there is that element of doubt which adds such zest to the game and makes it so fascinating to the players. Politics is a game of combinations, of putting a block inscribed "State of , votes, " on top of an- other block similarly marked, and seeing if the two will hold and are strong enough to support a third, and then a fourth, and so on. But just at the moment when the builders have laboriously upbuilded their column, when it begins to assume synunetry and is good to look upon, along comes an iconoclast to whom beauty does not appeal, and who, with a wave of his hand, sends the blocks spinning in a dozen directions. Hour after hour this goes on. The hotel lobby is crowded by a sm-ging, gesticulating, vociferating, excitable mass of men, discussing, arguing, cajoling, promising, threatening. They know neither night nor day. All day and all night the arguments go on; never an hour but what eloquence or persuasion or pledge of preferment or 66 Public Service hope of personal gain or promise of increased political authority is used to win over a recalcitrant whose voice is all-powerful in his delegation and whose support is essential. Here East meets West and mingles with the South. The men from the different sections can be easily distin- guished not alone by their manner, but even more strikingly by their dress. Midsummer though it be, with the ther- mometer soaring around one hundred, the Southerner clings to his black frock coat, his black slouch hat, and his white tie, which is in marked contrast to the man from the East, who adopts the more sensible light summer suit and straw hat, and heaps maledictions upon the weather; or the Westerner, who is easily distinguished from the Eastern man because his suit has the touch of the substantial West about it. Its checks and plaids have an aggressiveness all their own ; his waistcoat he regards as a superfluity, and his preference will be for a neglig4 shirt rather than the starched thing of linen in which the Eastern man must swelter in deference to his prejudices. There will be the negro from the Southern States, to whom politics is highly profitable and conventions serious business. In one thing there will be no difference. They all smoke ; perhaps one might say, without danger of libel, their cigars are all equally bad. Over everything this cloud of tobacco-smoke; it is everywhere. The noise, the heat, the excitement arc indescribable. A dozen times during the evening the human Niagara of sound is drowned by a band as a new delegation marches into the hotel and the echo of brass and thundering drums makes the gas-globes quiver and the walls shake. A dozen times during the evening a motley procession will parade around the lobby, perhaps to strike terror in the ranks of the enemy, perhaps to encourage How a President is Elected 67 their adherents to renewed efforts. A dozen times during an evening the lobby will resound with frenzied cheers. A certain delegation, whose position is uncertain, has declared for this candidate; another delegation, instructed for a favorite son, has voted to drop its candidate after the second ballot. Excitement finds its vent in cheers, in repeated pilgrimages to the bar. Human nature does not appear at its best in convention time. There is another scene less spectacular but more inter- esting. The lobby is like a theater open to the pubhc; upstairs, generally on the second floor, is the machinery which moves the puppets. Penetrate behind these locked and well-guarded doors and you shall see the springs and wheels, you shall see the stage furniture stripped of its tinsel, you shall see the men who shout not, neither do they cheer, who plan and calculate, who remain cool and impassive while their followers grow excited and exhibit their weakness and their vanities to all the world, who know what pressure to put on one man and what promise to make to another, who hold in their hands a hundred strings which run to all parts of ^the country, and who know by experience which one must be held taut, and which may be relaxed. Twoscore men usually manage a convention. They are the great managers, the personal friends, in whose hands the candidates have placed their fate. They are the men who deal directly with the heads of delegations and who make the ante-convention promises which turn up after election to plague a president. The rank and file imagine that they nominate a president. The managers are willing to encourage this delusion because it does no harm, but as a matter of fact the rank and file, like the rank and file in any other army, simply do as they are told. Occasionally, so seldom that the country stands amazed when it happens, 68 Public Service the army revolts and ignores its leaders, but as a general thing it is the men on the second floor behind the locked doors who originate, plan, and execute, and in whose hands the ordinary delegate is only a puppet. The convention day. Noon, and the convention meets. For hours before the delegates and spectators have been thronging to the hall, usually a building capable of hold- ing twenty thousand people. On the platform are the members of the National Committee and their guests, on the floor below, the delegates, each state marked off by a signpost bearing its name; behind them the alternates, who, like heirs expectant, wait for the crown to pass to them, and are seldom gratified; flanking the platform the newspaper men, in the galleries men and women by the thousand. Before coming to the convention hall the various state delegations have held meetings and elected their represent- atives on the committee on credentials, on the platform and other committees, and also a member of the National Committee, to hold office until their successors are ap- pointed at the next convention. Diu-ing the four years of their term the members of the National Committee are the highest executive body of the party, and they are charged with the management of the campaign and the convening of the following convention. The chairman of the conmiittee may or may not be one of its members. The chairman is always the personal representative of the nominee, who may select a member of the committee to act as his chairman if he so desires, or he may go outside of the committee for his chairman. That is the only control the candidate has over the com- mittee, although as a matter of fact the committee is always in sympathy with him and is ready to accept any sugges- tion he may see fit to make. After the enaravina hy p . f. rothermel The United States Senate, 1850 How a President is Elected 69 What the twenty thousand people have come there to see is the candidate nominated for the presidency, and the preliminaries do not interest them any more than they in- terest us. In the secrecy of the committee room, hours have been spent in planing down and trimming a single plank of the platform, or in smoothing off a corner so as to make it nearly dovetail into its fellow, but of this the pub- lic sees nothing. Usually the platform is adopted with- out dissent, and only once in a lifetime do politicians and spectators witness a dramatic scene like that of a few years ago, when a man who was present at the birth of the RepubUcan Party, his voice betraying his agitation, tears running down his furrowed face, protested against the adoption of the platform, and with all the force and sin- cerity which has characterized his public career implored his associates not to be false to the traditions of the party, and when his appeal fell on deaf ears he and a handful of followers marched out of the hall in solemn protest. Now for the supreme test. The roll of states is called for nominations for the presidency. When a state has a candidate to present the announcement is made by the chairman of the delegation and one of the delegates ad- vances to the platform. It is a great opportunity for a skillful speaker. If he pos- sesses that peculiar gift of magnetism, hypnotism almost, which defies analysis but which has been given to a few great orators, he can play upon that audience and make it as responsive to his will as the strings are to the master. A national convention is the most curious assemblage in the world. Its latent dynamic force is tremendous. It is a huge mine liable at any moment to fire itself. The air is surcharged with electricity. Delegates and spectators, in the proportion of one to ten, are alike under its influence. It needs but the skillful hand to connect the wires and ex- 70 Public Service plode the mine. A word, a phrase, an epigram has swept a convention off its feet, and once a convention is Htnmpeded its masters find it impossible to bring it bade to the corral. A convention has been known to sit through hours of weary oratory like men in the dark groping for a ray of light, when suddenly a man has sprung upon the platform, delivered an impassioned speech, driven the spectators half frantic with excitement, moved even the (l(ilegu(.(!s who were trying to sit impassive, and made hinisc^lf the nominee. So overwrought is the atmosphere of a con- vention that a thing trivial in itself assumes an impor- tance out of all real proportion. The suddcui display of a banner with the face of a candidate lias been known to set a convention wild. The speeches have all been made. The candidates hav(! been placed in nomination. The secretai-y emails the roll of states, the chairman of the delegation, as the state is called, announcing its vote. A thousand pens hang on every word. Hundreds of newspaper men put down the figures and they are telegraphed to every quarter of the country before the secretary has entered them on his roll. As the roll progresses, the (experienced politician can tell whether a nomination will be made. If no candidate receives a majority in a Republican Convention, or two- thirds in a Democratic, a s(!(;ond ballot is ordered. This ballot may show some changes, and the situation is be- ginning to develop. Another ballot and practically no change. And now the psychological moment. A recess is taken for ten minutes. The managers bustle about among the delegates, some delegations have their heads close to- gether and are deciding whether they shall continue to stand by their candidate or get into the band wagon and ride with the man who is evidently going to win, his man- How a President is Elected 71 agers are making a last desperate appeal to a delegation, whose twelve or twenty votes will turn the scale. The spectators who are ignorant of what is being done on the floor feel that the end is near. It is in the air. Not the most indifferent can remain quite calm. The excitement is contagious. Men and women who go there simply for amusement, much as they go to the theater, find their pulses beating a trifle quicker, and their eyes strained on the delegates trying to read their thoughts. Once again the secretary calls the roll. The states an- swer as before, with the gap swiftly closing until that state is reached whose vote will decide. Now only one state stands between doubt and certainty. There is a little pause, one of those unconscious pauses, as if to accentuate the response which shall make one man and destroy the hopes of all the others. The answer comes, the twenty votes are on the winning side, victory can be grasped. The convention cheers, the news has been flashed from Passamaquoddy Head to the Golden Gate, from the Rio Grande to the Gulf, while the secretary is still calUng the roll, while states which on the previous ballots gave their votes to other candidates are tumbUng over one another in their anxiety to have their votes changed and be recorded for the victor. Every man is anxious to be on the band wagon, to sit with the driver if possible and to escape the odium of not having sense enough to get a seat. The secretary adds up his roll and passes the figures to the chairman, who announces the result, and then The band crashes out, but louder than the lungs of brass are the human lungs. Men and women, delegates and spectators, give full vent to their enthusiasm and vie with one another in showing it. Everybody is carried away by the excitement, the delirium almost. Staid, respectable, gray-haired delegates seize the first thing at 72 Public Service hand to wave it; high in the air they throw their hats, papers, fans; some even have been known to pull off their coats and swing them about their heads simply to have some means of giving vent to their feelings and adding to the general tumult. Some one brings out a banner with the face of the nom- inee upon it, a dozen men spring up and parade around the hall, the procession growing as delegates from all sec- tions rush down to join it, many as they pass seize the sign- posts marking their seat, others bring their delegation flags and banners. Thus the circuit of the hall is made for three or four times, flags waving on floor and in the galleries, bedlam rioting everywhere. And never for one moment does the applause stop. It beats upon the ears like the roar of the ocean upon a bar- ren beach. One thinks this has been going on for hours; as a matter of fact it has only been ten minutes, and then there is a lull, just as at times for a brief second between two billows the ocean seems to be very quiet and the next moment a crashing wave throws its spume in all directions and beats more fiercely than ever upon the unprotected coast. The applause dies down, for a second, only to gain a newer, a deeper, a more vehement tone. The waves eddy and swirl and surge, they come thunder- ing down and up, they pour out in a tumultuous torrent, they engulf everything and make everything contribute to their volume. When men get tired of yelling they stamp, when they get tired of stamping they clap, when throats and feet and hands are forced to surrender, noise can be made with tin horns, with sticks banged against chairs, with chairs banged against the floor. Noise, noise, noise. These be the plaudits of the people to the uncrowned king. The chairman has been standing at his desk, gavel in hand. What avails one man against a multitude, one How a President is Elected 73 puny gavel against Thor's hammer? When the stream has spent its fury, when men and women stop because they are physically unable to go on, when the man with the trombone has tromboned himself into a fit of apoplexy and the drummer has paralyzed his wrist, the chairman timidly raps for order and at last succeeds in getting it. There is the vice-president to be nominated, but that is done in short order. There are a few routine mattere to be dis- posed of, and then the convention passes into history. The real work of the campaign now begins. The chair- man of the national committee has a small executive com- mittee to assist him, so that the campaign is managed by not more than ten or a dozen men. Presidential cam- paigns are costly, and one of the first things the committee has to do is to proAdde waj's and means. The only sources of revenue are the voluntary contributions from persons interested in the part^^'s success. It has alwaj's been an interesting question what a presidential campaign costs. The chairman, the treasurer, and perhaps one or two others, know, but they keep this information to themselves. Pohtics to-day means organization, the same thorough, eflBcient, comprehensive organization that one finds in the management of a great railroad or any other large business. The national committee works in conjunction with the state committees. There are states so absolutely safe that they require no attention from the national commit- tee. There are some states so hopelessly antagonistic that to make a fight there would be simplj* to sacrifice money and effort. To keep the enemj' fuUy occupied a sham campaign is 'sometimes made in such states, but the managers never count on carrying them. The real fight- ing ground is in the uncertain and doubtful states. These states must be carried to spell success, and it is here that the campaign will wage with deadly fierceness 74 Public Service from the day after the nomination has been made until the day before the ballots are cast. To bring to their support every voter in the state, the two committees, the Repubhcan and Democratic, will endeavor to put in the hands of every male of voting age, without regard to pres- ent or past affiliations, literature presenting the position of the party on the great issues of the day. To do this, mil- lions of documents are printed in every modern language, and through the literary bureau given circulation. The head of the literary bureau is the most important of the national chairman's subordinates. He must in a few weeks create the machinery for the distribution of these documents, he must attend to their preparation and printing, he must have an instinctive knowledge where to distribute his literature. In one state "imperialism," for instance, may really be the great issue, and the two chairmen will endeavor to flood that state with arguments for and against it. Not only will the speeches of the lead- ers in Congress be placed in the hands of the voters, but there will also be distributed carefully written articles, prepared with all the ingenuity and sophistry which trained writers know how to employ. Anything can be proved by figures, and in the course of a presidential campaign any argument advanced on one side is sure to be controverted by the other. In large cities, like Chicago and New York, where all the world has colonized, and where the people of one race may have a deadly hatred for those of another, the prepara- tion and dissemination of campaign literature calls for the nicest discrimination and an intimate knowledge of the conditions. While the written word is being sowed the spoken word is not neglected. The spellbinder is heard in the land. To arouse enthusiasm, to get men interested in the cam- How a President is Elected 75 paign as they are interested in nothing else, to make each man a missionary for the conversion of one from the other side who sits in outer darkness, for this all campaign man- agers strive. For this purpose the speakers are employed. Meetings by day, meetings by night, meetings in theater, meetings in schoolhouse, meetings in tents, meetings in the open air, everywhere the flow of words. We Ameri- cans are an emotional people, and our emotions are easily stirred by sound and color. The power of association is recognized by the managers, and to make the most of this men are encouraged to join clubs and other organizations for campaign purposes. In the daytime the streets echo to the music of march- ing feet, as a club escorts a great campaign orator to the place of meeting, and at night the sound of bands and the flare of torches announce that all those who care may hear more campaign speeches. It is a continuous performance, so adjusted as to suit the convenience of every one, no mat- ter what his station or what his hours of labor. To catch the business men, meetings are held in the business districts in the middle of the day, when a great banker or captain of industry talks for ten minutes, and as a business man gives the reasons why the party to which he belongs is worthy of support. At night, in another section of the city where men and women live in tenements like rabbits in a warren, where language and customs and dress are foreign, where men, after their day's work, are too tired to go to the ora- tor, the orator comes to them, relying on curiosity to gather him an audience. His stage is usually a cart, his footlights a couple of ill- smelling torches, whose sooty flickering throws fantastic shadows over a circle of bronzed and olive-skinned men, whose long hair and heavy beards show their foreign birth. They stand silent, eagerly drinking in the words 76 Public Service of the orator, and although their hands are dirty and their clothes bear witness to their occupations, they will, after the speaker has left them to make a similar speech in an- other quarter of the town, gather at the corner saloon and discuss politics with as much eagerness, if not with as much intelUgence, as the bankers gathered at their club talk over the speech they heard that afternoon. And in a republic, where all men are equal, and where the vote of the savant is balanced by that of the idiot, the ignorant foreigner in the slums is of as much concern to the politician as the banker on Nob Hill. Each state has its own organization. The national chairman keeps in close touch with the state chairmen so as to lend them assistance whenever it is needed. There are various ways to ascertain the political drift. In some states, about the middle of the campaign, a house-to-house canvass is made ; and it is done with such skill and fidelity that it is as accurate almost as a government census. A month or six weeks later another enumeration will be made and the figures compared, which will show whether the lines want strengthening, and, if so, where. The only factor in the equation which bothers the political mathe- matician is the vest-pocket vote — the men who say noth- ing, but whose minds are made up. While the captains of tens and hundreds are hard at work, the man for whom all this is done is not idle. If the candidate is a president seeking reelection etiquet prescribes that his interest in the campaign must be digni- fied and almost indifferent. He may not go on the stump, although he may deliver a few speeches here and there, couched in a lofty tone (or what is supposed to be lofty), as a patriot rather than a politician. A president can always find it convenient to make a speech where he thinks it will advance his cause the most. There are always fairs How a President is Elected 77 to be opened, corner-stones to be laid, volunteers to be welcomed, and a committee of arrangements is only too glad to have the president as an attraction. But if the candidate is not the president he is under far less restraint. He can stay quietly at his home and have the faithful brought to him to worship at his shrine, or he can go whither he listeth, making one or a dozen speeches a day, traveling a thousand or ten thousand miles, if he thinks it wiU be for his advantage so to do and he is physi- cally able to stand the fatigue. Perhaps the most trjdng time in a man's life are the months he spends between the nomination and election — or defeat. From the moment he is nominated he lives in a glass house with an X-ray machine at every corner of every room. Every word he utters is taken down and scanned by a thousand unscrupulous eyes and considered by a thousand unscrupulous brains, to see if it can be dis- torted or its meaning changed so as to do some harm. Even before he has spoken there are men trying to forecast what he will do or say on a certain occasion. The fierce hght which beats on a throne compared with that enveloping the candidate, making a perpetual pillar of illumination so that the beating of his heart even can be seen by all men, is a path blazoned by a tallow dip com- pai-ed to the blaze cut by an electric light. King, presi- dents, ministers of state, poets, warriors, and matin6e heroes may enjoy some privacy occasionally when they cease to be rare china, perpetually in dread of having their refined glass cracked, and become common clay, which does not fear for its pohsh. But a presidential candidate belongs to the public, and the public will not surrender one jot of its ownership. Nor can the candidate dispute it. A careless word, a too ready acquiescence in the half-mumbled sentences of a well- 78 Public Service meaning but indiscreet sympathizer, may cost him the election. When three words defeated a candidate, an election lost by twelve hundred votes, who shall say that the way is not beset with dangers? This constant living for the public, this constant weighing of words and dread- ing one misused, this anxiety as to the result, and the striv- ing to devise new methods to win votes generally has its effect upon the nominee, which has led to the axiom that no man can manage his own campaign. It is rare indeed that a man, no matter how long his experience in politics or how skillful a manager, can success- fully conduct his own campaign. No matter how cool his judgment and clear his vision, no matter how ready in resource and how courageous under attack, when he is both candidate and manager he loses his sense of perspec- tive proportion; his nerve is shaken, his eyes are clouded and he becomes erratic and irritable. Presidential candi- dates are watched by their advisers like a horse entered for the great event of the year is watched by his trainer and jockey. They watch the candidate mentally and physi- cally; they watch to see that he walks in none of the pit- falls so craftily spread in his path; they watch his words as he utters them, and they watch them again after they have appeared in print. And now the supreme moment, the culmination of all this labor. Everything has been said; everything has been done that skill and experience can suggest. The night before the election the two chairmen issue their final address to the armies, urging them to be vigilant, coura- geous and determined on the morrow; promising rewards for the arrest and detection of fraudulent voters, a piece of hypocrisy which means nothing and does not deter the scoundrel who has been bribed to vote under another man's name. How a President is Elected 79 On the day of election the headquarters, which for so long have been such a scene of activity, are deserted, but after nightfall, when the polls have closed, the rooms are crowded. Bulletins from state chairmen trickle in, frag- mentary and too indefinite on which to base calculations. As the evening draws on the dispatches come in faster and the telegraph hums its note of victory or despair. Poli- ticians of all ranks, from the "boss" down to the ward heeler, crowd the room, hanging on every word, nervously waiting the verdict; too excited to sit, too keyed up to stand quietly for more than a few seconds at a time. Now the dispatches come rolling in a steady stream and the telegraph instruments keep up their endless song, and it is a song intelligible enough to be translated into words. As the bulletins are received they are read out and the political mathematicians begin to cipher on the results. Like the scientist who, if given a bone, can tell the size, weight, and character of the animal, given a precinct, a city, or a county the political mathematician can tell the majority of the city, county, or state. If the current is running their way there is much joy, congratulations are exchanged, cheers given when an unexpected victory is announced, and cigars are smoked with a calm air of triumph. But when the telegraph tells one unbroken series of defeats, when stronghold after stronghold falls into the enemy's grasp, when the flower of the army has gone down and the citadel itself trembles, the cigars go out, faces are clouded, silently men creep away, and before the crowd on the streets has tired of watching the bulletins the hghts are out, the doors are locked, and there is naught but blackness to show for the labors of the past six months. It is in the camp of the victors that the watch-fires blaze merrily, and around which the tired soldiers are resting 80 Public Service content now that the battle is won. The successful chairman holds a reception, for his power is so great that he is a man to be flattered and courted, and, if he is ambitious, he may build his future as he pleases; he may go into the cabinet or be sent to an European court as an ambassador, for what a chairman asks from a president that must he receive. And while his rival has gone to his hotel disappointed and humiliated, smarting under the sting of defeat, the stigma of failm-e upon him, his poUtical future perhaps ruined, the successful chairman waits until the election is his beyond peradventure of doubt, and then sends a dispatch to the candidate, saying: "1 congratu- late you, Mr. President."- THE GOVERNOR'S REHEARSAL^ By CHARLES WARREN ^jARK SPENNER had made up his mind to h'i/MM ]^ii ^}jg Governor. That was the reason nearly two hours, in the dark, in the farthest corner of a seldom used rubbish closet leading from the private secretary's ojffice. He had come up that after- noon to the State House from Belltown for this express purpose. About foiu" o'clock he had entered the private secre- tary's room, and had been assigned his seat at the foot of a line of chairs filled with impatient visitors awaiting their turn. The private secretary had looked at him searchingly, struck with the old man's wildness of eye and intensity of speech. One by one the men ahead of Spenner saw, with a sigh of relief, the door into the Gov- ernor's room open, and the visitor hurry out looking happy, disappointed, angry, or puzzled, according to the degree of success in his mission. One by one the line lessened; and Spenner nerved himself for the coming test. Suddenly a tall, sturdy figure appeared at the door. It was the Governor himself. He bowed to the waiting men, and crossing the room with a vigorous step, he stood talking in an undertone to the private secretary, not six feet away from the last man in the line. Mark Spenner's breath came quick, and the blood rose in his head. He felt behind under his coat, where his ^ By courteous permission of the Author. From " McClure'a Maga- zine." Copyright, 1900. 81 82 Public Service hip-pocket was distended in a knobby lump. As he made the motion, the Governor happened to glance at him, and nodded courteously, as if to an old acquaint- ance. Spenner withdrew his hand, and sat hesitating. Just then he caught the last words that the Governor was saying to his secretary, and he trembled with ex- citement. "Mr. Porter, you and the clerks need not wait after five o'clock to-night. I shall see no one after then, and every one may leave. I am going to DoUiver to-night to declare my position on this strike question, and I want to stay here until half-past six to finish writ- ing out my speech." As he heard these words Mark Spenner suddenly changed his plan. He would not kill the Governor now, suddenly, publicly. He would wait until after five o'clock, when the State House would be quiet, and then he could kill him easily and peaceably. He looked around the room. At the lower end he perceived a door partially open. He rose, and walked down toward it. No one noticed him. The door led into a deep closet. He stood looking out of the window near it. Outside it was growing dark. He heard the private secretary call to his stenographer, who sat at the end of the room, to go to the outer corridor and answer the telephone. Then the door to the Governor's room opened again, a man emerged, and the private secretary went in to announce to the Governor the next visitor. Now was the time, thought Spenner. No one was in the room except the two men still ahead of him in line, waiting their turn. He glanced slyly and rapidly at them. One was reading his newspaper; the other was looking eagerly at the half-open door in which appeared the private secretary's back. In one dart Mark Spenner had reached the closet door, flashed behind it into the closet, The Governor's Rehearsal 83 and crouched in the farthest corner in the darkness. No sound had been made. One moment he had been outside, waiting impatiently hke any other visitor. The next moment he was gone. The private secretary showed the first man in to the Governor, and came back to his desk. The stenographer returned from the telephone. The man with the news- paper stiU sat waiting. On the sm-face, that was all. It came the newspaper reader's turn. The private secre- taiy looked for the pale, wild-eyed man with the rumpled hair; but did not see him. "Where is that other man, Jim?" he asked of the stenographer. "I don't know," said Jim. "He must have got tired waitiug and gone out. I didn't notice." "The Governor '11 be glad of that. There's been a perfect procession of callere this afternoon. Tell them outside to admit no one else. It 's a quai'ter of five, and I "m going home." "I've got about twenty minutes' dictation to write out , ' ' said Jim. ' ' Good-night . ' ' ISIark Spenner waited, trembling, to see if any one would come to the closet. No one did. He heard ]\Ir. Porter leave. The t3rpewriter chcked iminterruptedly, and then stopped. The stenographer left. A cab rattled by outside. The clerks in the outer corridor chatted a few minutes. There came a sound of doors shutting with a click and of keys turning in the locks. The sound of steps grew faiuter. Then all was very quiet. After a time he heard some one come into the room humming a tune. It was the Governor. The steps approached the closet door. Mark Spenner shook, and breathed hard. The steps went away. Then he heard the door of the Governor's room close, and it was very quiet again outside. And Alark Spenner crouched in the 84 Public Service closet, determined to kill the Governor and knowing that his time had come. The facts which had led Mark Spenner to that decision are part of the well-known history of the tragic poUtical State campaign of that year. Although the Governor had received a second renom- ination in the State Convention three weeks before, his party managers did not underestimate the strength of his opponent, Charles Fondridge; and they reaUzed that the campaign was to be so close that the result might hinge on the slightest change of votes. So it happened that a brief telegram brought into the midst of a meeting of the Executive Committee of the State Committee ten days before had produced an excited change in their plans, and spread a look of cheer around the committee room. The telegram was from the chairman of the City Com- mittee in Belltown, and read, "International Mills em- ployees voted this noon to strike." Belltown was a large manufactming city that had always cast a heavy vote against the Governor's party. For some months there had been a more or less active struggle going on there between the directors of the International Mills and their three thousand employees. The causes of the struggle have nothing to do with this history. No one had believed, however, that there would be any open outbreak. Indeed, Fondridge's political managers had been most active in appeahng to the directors and to Jerome Barton, the president of the company, to yield. Barton had, in fact, been a former treasurer of the party's State Committee. Hence he was so closely connected with the party that a strike in his mills would inevitably become a political issue; and real live state issues were the last thing that the managers wanted in this so-caUed "national" campaign. The Governor's Rehearsal 85 The news that the strike had come caused, therefore, a corresponding depression in the party ranks of the Governor's opponent. The recusant president and direc- tors of the International Mills were called all manner of names, and every argument was employed upon them to bring about a settlement of the strike. But as Presi- dent Barton said to the committee that waited on him, "Why, gentlemen, we 're not running these mills for our health or for politics. We 're running them to make money for the stockholders. Personally, I 'd hke noth- ing better than to see Charley Fondridge governor. I '11 make you a campaign subscription myself of five thousand dollars, and you can have my personal check when you want it ; but what you 're asking me to do is impossible. You are practically asking the stockholders of this cor- poration to make you a campaign subscription out of their profits, not of five thousand dollars, but more nearly of five hundred thousand dollars; for that is what this strike, unless successful on our side, would mean to us." The committee returned to headquarters discouraged. Meanwhile others were becoming discouraged. The fathers of four or five young children, with small credit at the stores and no deposits in the savings banks and httle food in the house; the childi'en who had earned enough to help support the rest of the family; the young men and young women who had hoped to be married soon — they, too, were beginning to grimible, down in the streets of Belltown. When all went well and they were working hard, they had no time to think about politics; and they had voted — those who had a vote — almost instinctively according to habit, tradition, or their father's vote. Now they had time to think for themselves, and they were asking each other whether they had not been de- 86 Public Service ceived; whether the party to which such a hard-hearted monster as President Barton belonged could possibly be the party for which the workingman should vote. And while these questions were flying round, the Governor's party managers, who had hoped for this situation, sent down into the midst of the rising dissatisfaction thousands of campaign documents. Then, one night, the rumor came that the mills were to start up the next day with "scab" labor. Men clus- tered, pale and excited, on the street corners. Women grew terrified, and tried to keep their sons and their hus- bands at home, foreseeing that trouble was coming. The nonunion men arrived the next day, and in less than an hour large bodies of strikers were gathered along the road leading to the mills and around the gates. There was no violence as yet; but there were hardly suppressed oaths and savage looks and searches of the pawnshops for revolvers. During the next day regular processions of strikers carrying banners paraded up and down the road past the mill grounds, which stretched along for nearly a mile in the open country outside the city proper. As the nonunion men went into the gates they were greeted with every kind of threat and hard name, but no one was molested physically by the strikers. The outburst was precipitated before its time by the careless act of a small boy who, more in fun than any- thing else, threw a stone at a window in a shed on the mill grounds. As the glass broke, suddenly the air was thick with stones, bricks, sticks, and iron bolts. The next morning the police were lined up along the road running by the mills. A nonunion man was pulled from their hands, and disappeared through the crowd yelling for help. That night the news spread over the city that the The Governor's Rehearsal 87 directors of the mills had obtained an injunction against Matthew Spanner, James Conlon, Peter Lachaude, and fifteen others, active union men. At the meeting of the union, the injunction was brought in and read. It re- strained them "and their agents and servants or any person in connection, association, or combination with them" from "interfering with the management and operation of said mills by their owners or those oper- ating them, either by menaces, threats, force, or any character of intimidation used to prevent the employees of said mills from going to, or from, or working in, said mills." And, further, "the defendants" were "re- strained from entering upon the property of the owners of the International Mills Corporation, or assembling in the roads leading to and upon said property, for the pur- pose of interfering with the employees of said_ corpora- tion either by threats, menaces, or violence." Head and front of all in wild oratory against the courts was young "Mat" Spenner. "We're enjoined off the face of the earth!" he shouted. "We must resist or lose all our liberties ! Have n't we a right to walk on the streets as well as those bloated monopolists? " Along toward the early dawn, after an excited debate, it was determined that the arrest of Spenner, Lachaude, and their fellow martyrs must be prevented. Meanwhile, that same evening, there was discourage- ment and cursing at Fondridge's State Headquarters when the news came that Barton had secured an injunc- tion. "This caps the climax," said the secretary of the committee. "We might have made a fair showing on the strike question; but if they are going to be allowed to bring up the injunction issue, it knocks Fondridge's campaign completely." "I see they 've persuaded the Governor to go on the 88 Public Service stump at last, too," said the chairman of the Executive Committee. "He 's billed for a speech on this labor business down at Dolliver, Saturday, and I suppose that from now till then he '11 be gathering hot shot." "It was hot enough for us last year," said the secre- tary. "RolUns, what do you think about this wretched mess Barton has got us into with his injunction?" Rollins, the corpulent, shrewd-faced chairman of the State Committee, had been sitting for some time silently rubbing the scowls from his forehead. "I think," he said, "that "the Governor may be in a tighter hole next Satur- day than we are now." "That sounds well. What does it mean?" asked the treasurer. "Did it ever occm* to you," Rollins replied, "that the Governor might be called upon to order out the troops? And if he did send the troops; if any — well, we '11 say any — accident happened, would that help him with the Belltown voters?" The secretary whistled. "Not so bad, not so bad, Rollins. There may be something in that for us." On Tuesday night Rollins's prophecy was fulfilled. Spenner and his comrades, against the protests of the soberer and wiser men in the union, put into operation their plan of defiance of the injunction, and its enforce- ment was openly resisted. The sheriff and his posse and the police were unable to take possession of the viola- tors. They were driven back with torn clothes, bruises, and even withi! serious wounds. Several nonunion men also were wounded by missiles, and dangerous bonfires were built in lots adjoining the mills. The sheriff was obliged to read the riot act. Finally the Mayor of the city, vigorously m-ged by President Barton to call on the Governor for troops, decided not to wait any The Governor's Rehearsal 89 longer. A delay of a few hours might mean the destruc- tion of the mills. Then, too, the Mayor was not of the Governor's political persuasion, and he was not at all sorry that some part of the responsibility for the con- dition of affairs should be shifted to the Governor's shoulders. On Wednesday morning, the Governor received the Mayor's telegram asking for the aid of the militia to put down the growing riot. He was not a man who hesitated when he saw his duty plain before him. But this was too serious a matter to decide at once without fullest knowledge of the facts. Two members of his staff and the Adjutant-General of the state were sent immediately to Belltown, and meanwhile the Governor summoned his campaign committee. A sight of their faces, when they were told the news, would have made Rollins and Fon- dridge laugh in glee. "But, Governor," said the chairman, "you can't think of ordering out the troops! This is all a political game of the other side. Things are n't so serious as all that down at Belltown. Rollins is trying to put you in a hole," he continued, unconsciously using RoUins's own words. "It wiU be the worst and most impopular thing you could possibly do," he added. "That isn't the question," said the Governor. "The only question is, is it really necessary? I don't choose to play into Fondridge's hands. But, much as I am in sjanpathy with the cause of the strikers, the mills shall have the protection that the law gives them. If the troops are needed at Belltown, the troops shall go there." "But hold on, Governor," said Jim Blakely, the editor; "here it is Wednesday. Election comes next Tuesday. I don't beUeve there 's such a terrible rush 90 Public Service about this. If, after Tuesday, Barton needs any soldiers to help run his mills, why let him have aU he wants. But, Governor, don't be fool enough to throw away your election untU it 's really necessary!" "What can you say at DoUiver Saturday night if the troops should — should — should^ — make any trouble?" groaned the chairman. The Adjutant-General returned, and reported that violence was increasing iu Belltown and that protection was needed at once. In two hours a part of the Seven- teenth Regiment of the Xational Guard was on its way thither. The State Committee waited for the news from that city, discouraged and fearful. The news came late that very afternoon. The strikers, led by the very men against whom the injunction had been issued, had attacked the troops. The troops had fired, first into the air, but on the second volley into the mob. And now eleven men lay dead in Belltown and twenty-four wovmded. Old Mark Spenner and his daughter, Mary Spenner, lived not far from Central Avenue. Toward dark they had heard the ominous rattling crash echo down the street, and had seen the smoke rise above the low houses opposite. And then in less than half an hour an ambu- lance came rumbling round the comer, followed by a confused group of men. As old Mark Spenner went to meet them they were lifting out a dark mass. Terrified at their suUen looks, he called out : "It is n't Mat. It is n't my :Mat." They nodded; and then iMark Spenner did not know for hoiu^ what was taking place about him. His Mat — his one boy, whom he had trained to take his place in the mills — whom he had seen go out that very morning, young and vigorous! It was not possible. And yet there The Governor's Rehearsal 91 in the front room lay something that had been, but was not any longer, Matthew Spenner; and outside in the city of Belltown men in blue uniforms were tramping slowly up and down; the streets were half deserted, and lights shone in the mill windows, showing that the Inter- national Mills were working overtime to make up for lost work. From that moment Mark Spenner began to form his project. For two days he thought of nothing else, until he felt as if all his blood was collecting in his head. His brain seemed to be bursting as this one refrain beat against it: "Who killed my son? The soldiers. Who sent the soldiers? The Governor." There was no question in Mark Spenner's mind as to the justification for the Governor's act. Very likely the strikers, his son even, may have been wrong. But the fact still remained, his son lay dead, and the Governor had killed him. Therefore he, Mark Spenner, must kill the Governor. The Governor sat intent on his Dolliver speech. Every now and then he rose, and walking toward the win- dow, leaned his head against the cool pane. Once he wandered restlessly into the private secretary's room, Vi nmmiTi g. Since Wednesday night he had been Hving under great pressure. The deep lines in his face and the tired black look around his eyes showed how heavily the responsibility for the Belltown tragedy was weighing on him. It was only the inner sense of complete justifica- tion for his share in that event that kept him from flinch- ing before the torrents of abuse and denunciation which had ensued after the terrible results of Wednesday night. The pendulum had swung violently; and those work- ingmen who had forsaken Fondridge because of the strike 92 Public Service were now flocking back, enraged at the Governor's action, which they regarded as treachery. So it was that this speech at DoUiver, iostead of being an attack on Fon- dridge and his party for their position on the labor ques- tion, must now be a defense of his own action; and the Governor reaUzed that it must be an all-powerful and all- convincing defense if he was to make good, in the three days which remained before election, the loss of the votes of those workingmen who now entirely misunderstood his position. It had been with the greatest sense of reHef that he had watched the last visitor leave and had heard his private secretary give orders to admit' no one else. He had listened to the steps of the departing clerks as the soxmd died away down the corridor. Then, left to himself in the quiet of the empty State House, he had set himself to embody in his fateful speech all the eloquence, the pas- sion, and the clear-cut reasoning which had so often be- fore made friends for him out of his ardent foes. It was after six o'clock when the Governor drew in a long breath, pushed his manuscript away from him, and, clasping his hands behind his head tipped wearily back in his chair. His speech was finished at last, and he felt very well content with it, for he knew that it was as true and real and sincere a thing as he had ever written. But how would it strike home to the workingmen of DoUiver and of the state? That was the question which could not be answered, perhaps, until their votes had been counted. The Governor almost wished that he had not let his private secretary go home. He should like to know how the words he had just written would impress some one else. He leaned fora'ard again, and, taking up his manu- script, began to read it carefully over. So intent was he The Governor's Rehearsal 93 that he did not notice the door to the Executive Chamber open very slowly and silently, and close just as slowly and sUently. Nor did he see a figure sMp cautiously into the room and creep toward him. In reaching forward for his pen to make a correction in his speech the Governor looked up. Directly before the flat, square desk stood an elderly man, with a pale face and rimipled hah-, holding a revolver pointed straight at the Governor's head. In a flash he recognized the perU in which he was placed; for, hke all governors, he had had many an experience with insane persons. They were always drawn hke a magnet toward the head of the state, whom thej" considered the head of all their troubles. He looked very calmly at the man, and replaced very dehberately his manuscript upon his desk. ■' WeU, my friend," he said, "what is your name, and what can I do for you? " ]Mark Spenner stiU felt the blood flooding up into his head, and with difficulty he could control himself, as he shouted, "I am ]Mark Spenner, and I 've come to kill you." The Governor's face became somewhat pale and rigid, j"et his mouth broke shghtly into a suave smile. He knew that the only waj' to deal with an insane man was to humor him. "Very well, my friend; but will you not teU me wh}' you want to kill me?" ^lark Spenner had not expected this kind of reception, j'et he did not lose sight of his prey for a moment. "Be- cause you murdered my son; because you sent the sol- diers to BeUtown to murder my son, [Mat Spenner." The Governor gave a httle breathless gasp. He had caught his cue, for he remembered the name and its con- nection with the BeUtown tragedy. "Let me see; you accuse me of murdering your son. 94 Public Service And you think, therefore, that you should condemn me to death instead of having me tried by the courts. Very well, we won't discuss that. You may be right." As his lips uttered these words, the Governor's brain was considering more things in a short flash of time than had ever driven through it before. Could he reach the side of the room where the electric bell was placed, con- necting his room with the watchman's office? Could he, in some way, get at his desk telephone? Could he make a sudden dash for the door or for the window? Could he overpower the aged but burly man holding the weapon? While swiftly running over these possibilities in his mind he glanced down at his desk, and noticed in a hazy kind of way the speech in which he had been so enwrapped. Suddenly, like a cool northwest wind driving the heat and fog before it, an idea came to him. Now was the moment for the supreme test of his powers of eloquence and persuasion. A few minutes before he had supposed that it was to be later in the evening, at Dolliver. He saw, however, that the time was now, and more than that, if not now, then probably never again in this life. "I will agree, Mark Spenner," he said, "that you shall be my judge and my jury; but you will surely grant me what is allowed to the vilest, lowest murderer or thief. I suppose you have served on a jury some time in your life?" He looked inquiringly at Spenner, and the latter nodded. "Well, then, you must know that before a poor fellow is condemned to imprisonment or — to death, if it must be so, the judge always gives him a chance to say a word for himself. I ask you, therefore, to hear what I have to say for myself before you execute me. This you owe me as one man to another. I don't ask it because I am a The Governor's Rehearsal 95 governor, but because I am — or, rather, because you saj' I am — a murderer." Spenner's eye glittered. "Go on," he said roughly, "but cut it short. You 've got to die whatever you say." The Governor ai'ose, and straightened his taU body to its most commanding height. "Don't you move; sit down ! ■ ' said Spenner, advancing his revolver. The Governor smiled, and remained standing. "Don't you remember what the judge says, 'Prisoner, stand up. Have you anything to say why sentence of death should not be pronounced according to law?' You remember that, don't you?" Again Speiuier nodded in a dazed fashion, evddently not understanding the Governor's tactics. Then the Governor began in almost the same words which he had intended for his DoUi^-er audience, at fii-st very quietly, but becoming more and more powerful in his appeal. He showed how he had been in sjTnpathy with the strikers and their cause at the beginning. He indignantly denied the accusations made against him — that he was out of sjTupathy with the working classes. Then he went on to describe the causes of the BeUto^Ti strike. "Had I had the right and power, I would rather have driven this great corporation — this International Mills Company — out of the confines of this state, than to have had one employee treated as unjustly as I beUeve the company in its demands did treat them. I would rather that this splendid commonwealth of ours should have lost every cent of the taxes which that corporation pays, than that one cent should have been stricken from the wages of one of its workingmen. Yet, that is not the question. I had no legal right or power in the matter. 96 Public Service I could not compel the International Mills Company to pay just wages. I could not prevent them from en- forcing unjust rules so long as they kept within the law as laid down by the coiu1;s. You and I know that every man can conduct his business mildly or harshly, as he pleases, if he does not break the law laid down by the courts or the law made by the legislature." The Governor went on to point out what rights the law gave to the miU-owner. "Now what does the law permit to you or me or any one else, union or non-union man, who seeks work? It says, 'You may seek work or quit work wherever and whenever you please, provided you don't break any ex- isting contract. You may persuade any other person to quit work, if you don't try to make him break his con- tract out of pure maUce.' On the other side, what does the law forbid you to do? It forbids you to try to keep the bread out of another's mouth by the use of force or threats against him or his employer. I am in favor of organized labor. So is the law. Yet I can not but recognize, and you must recognize, that a non-union man is a human being. He is an American citizen, free and equal. He is entitled to earn his Uving in peace. He has sons and daughters and a wife, as you or any of us may have." Spenner, who had been standing stiffly and grimly silent, broke in upon the Governor's appeal. "I have no son. Cut your talk short. I can not wait any longer." The Governor looked into the mouth of the barrel of the revolver without a tremor. "I say the non-union man has the same rights that you or I have, and one of those rights, the law says, is to try to get work from any man he pleases, and when it is obtained, to continue to work with his life safe and free from the fear of threats The Governor's Rehearsal 97 or violence or intimidation used by men trjong to throw him out of his job. And since the law gives him that right, the state must protect that right for him." Then the Governor, gazing straight into Spenner's eyes, explained in simple and eloquent language how one of the ways of enforcing this right to protection was the thing of which the very name was odious to the laboring man — an injimction. He showed how the working- men's hatred of injunctions came largely from their ignorance as to what they were and what they restrained. "Do you reahze how important for the protection of each one of you is this same power of the courts to issue injunctions? Suppose a powerful railroad or telephone company attempts to encroach on your httle, hard- earned piece of land; how can you stop it? Go to any judge, and you will, and can, obtain this hated injunc- tion. Suppose with great difficulty you pay a few dollars taxes, and you see the cit^^'s money wasted and stolen by corrupt officials, and your tax-rate going up and up; how can you stop it? Go to the judge whom jou hare just called an 'ally of entrenched wealth,' and you wUl have given you this thing 'oppressive of labor and of the poor man' — this injunction. Suppose you are working for a railroad which carries mails and goods from state to state, and which seeks to discharge jou and j-our fellow- men because certain other men will not work for the railroad unless you are discharged. Go to that very abused and despised judge of the United States Court, and he will issue in j^our favor an order which you call 'government by injvmction."" Then the Governor explained exactly what the Bell- town injimction did. It restrained from trespassing, and from interfering with others by force or by threats — that was all. 98 Public Service "All this injunction does is to try to keep you from breaking the law of this state. Now I don't say that I agree with the law. It makes no difference to you whether I agree or not with it. All I am Governor for is to enforce the law. I can not make it, no matter how much I desire to. I can not change it if I will. The con- stitution of this state — the great binding force on all of us — tells me expressly what I can and what I can not do. It says" — the Governor rolled forth the grand old language in a voice like the deep roar of a cataract — " In the government of this commonwealth, the legis- lative department shall never exercise the executive and judicial powers or either of them; the executive shall never exercise the legislative and judicial powers or either of them.' If the law is wrong and hard, it is for you to change it. Send yom- representatives to the legis- lature. Make them pass a bill changing the law; and if the change is a proper one, I will sign it when they send it up to me. "But what would happen in this state if its citizens could break the law simply because they felt it to be unjust? Why, you would not be safe for a minute. Your property, your Ufe, would be at the mercy of any crank or evil-doer. Your wife, your children, would not be safe," — Spenner gave an angry murmur at the word "children," but continued to Usten intently, for the Governor was not to be stopped. The Governor's whole frame seemed in motion with the intensity of his words; and Spenner could not keep his eyes away from the glowing face, — "would not be safe for a second. The law must be obeyed until it is changed. And no good or honest men can beUeve otherwise." The Governor then described in the saddest and most pitying voice what had happened at Belltown; how an The Governor's Rehearsal 99 appeal had been made to send the troops, and how he had taken extra precautions to be sure that they were necessary. Spenner still listened, growing paler and paler. The Governor moved to one side of his desk; but Spenner made no motion except to follow him with wildly fixed eyes, and he seemed to be unaware of any- thing. With arms flung out in a well-known gesture, the governor spoke on. He, too, seemed almost to have forgotten where he was or under what conditions he was speaking. In tones of earnest conviction and of tumultu- ous feehng, he spoke of the tremendous struggle that had gone on in him, between his horror at the results which might follow his dispatch of the troops and his sense of duty and fealty to the people of the state. "I ask you, Mark Spenner, you yourself, to answer me this. What would you do if you had hired a servant, had entrusted him with the care of your goods, your house, yoiu' honor, your wife's honor and safety, and that servant, hearing outside a party of men trying to get in to rob and possibly to kill, had let in these lawbreakers rather than make himself unpopular with them? And then suppose that, besides merely trusting him, you had made him solemnly swear to protect you and yours, and he broke his oath, what would you say, Mark Spenner, to that servant? Answer this! And I know that as you are an honest man, you can only answer it one way. Answer this, I say. ' ' As the Governor flung these words at him, he noticed that Spenner was growing nervous. The hand that held the revolver shook a little, while the muzzle of the re- volver turned shghtly down toward the table. "I am that servant, hired and trusted. I took that oath to protect you and yours, your neighbor and his, the men and women of Belltown, the men and women all over 100 Public Service this state. I swore solemnly to enforce the law of this state, whether I beheved in it or not, against any man breaking that law. Standing in that legislative hall, in the midst of hundreds of men who represented your rights and interests, I placed my left hand on the Holy Bible, and, raising my right hand to Heaven, I said, 'I do solemnly swear that I will bear true faith and alle- giance to this commonwealth, and that I will faithfully and impartially discharge and perform all the duties incum- bent on me as Governor, agreeable to the rules and regulations of the Constitution and the laws of this commonwealth, so help me God.' " What is it you would have asked of me? Not to send the troops to Belltown? But the law said that it was my duty to do so. The safety of tens of thousands depended on my doing my duty. Would you have had me do otherwise? No, Mark Spenner, no. You would have said to me, 'My servant, servant of my fellow- people, enforce the law you swore before God and man to enforce. The consequences of your act are not to rest on you. The responsibility for what may happen shall rest on none save upon all the people of the state who made the law, of whom you are the servant. Though some may die, others will be saved. But you, personally, neither kill nor save. Whatever may happen, j-ou have no choice. You must not be a scoundrel and a perjurer.' And so, Mark Spenner, I say to you, even if I am to be killed the next minute, so help me God, I have done but my sworn duty." The Governor stopped very suddenly, throwing his head back ^-ith a superb air. At the same time he stepped closer to Spenner. The latter appeared con- fused for a moment, seemed to wish to speak, and faltered. Then he began to recover his self-possession, and the The Governor's Rehearsal 101 revolver rose once more. Before he had time, however, to bring it up fully, the Governor, with a great leap, threw himself against him, plunging to obtain hold of the weapon. Spenner uttered an enraged yell, and fell back against a low bookcase, with the Governor almost upon him. A shot rang out, and a drift of smoke clouded the air of the room. Something tumbled heavily to the floor, and lay quite still. When the watchmen, aroused by the shot, came dash- ing up the stairs, down the outer corridors, and through the door of the Executive Chamber, they found the Governor leaning against the end of his desk and hold- ing a revolver. Something black lay at his feet, and there was a disagreeable pungent smell of powder in the air, while the lights in the room seemed to be burning dimly. "I have killed a man," the Governor said. "Send for the pohce and an ambulance. Do not let one word of this event be made public to-night. Order a carriage for me at once. I go to Dolliver at half-past seven. No, I don't need any aid. I am not faint. I shall be all right." That night at Dolhver the Governor delivered his famous speech on the strike question. People noticed that he looked very white, and seemed sad and serious; but never had an audience in that state been so im- pressed by the words of any man. It was not until the next morning, when they read their newspapers, that they learned how near death had come to silencing those eloquent Ups and leaving the speech unpublished to the world. No one knew even then, or for long after, that the speech had been spoken once already, and it is possible that it was due to poor old Mark Spenner that the Governor was elected for his third term. AN ENGINE-HOUSE AT NIGHT ^ By CLEVELAND MOFFETT HERE is something strange and solemn about an engine-house at night, hke the stUIness of a church or the hush of a drowsing menagerie. You are filled with a sense of impending dan- ger, which is symboUzed everywhere : in the boots ranged at bimksides of sighing sleepers, in the brass columns, smooth as glass, that reach up through manholes in the floor, and at which the fire crew leap, half drtmk with fa- tigue; in the engine, purring at the double doors (steam always at twenty-five in the boiler), with tongues and har- ness lifted for the spring; in the big gong which watches under the clock (and the clock watches, too), a tireless yeUow eye, which seems to be ever saying, "Shall I strike? Shall I strike? " And the clock ticks back, "Wait, wait," or "Now, now." That is what you feel chiefly in an engine-house at night — the intense, quiet watchfulness. Even the horses seem to be watching with the comer of an eye as they mimch their feed. I counsel a man, perhaps a woman; weary of the old evening things, the stupid show, the trivial talk, the laughter without nurth, the suppers without nourishment, to try an hour or two at an engine-house, making friends with the fireman on guard (it may be the driver of a chief, as happened to me), and see if he does n't walk back home with a gladder heart and a better opinion of his fellows. I fancy some of oxu* reformers, even, might visit an engine- ' By permission of the Author. From " Careers of Danger and Daring," Century Company, 1908. 102 An Engine-House at Night 103 house with profit, and learn to dwell occasionally on the good that is in our cities, and learn something about fight- ing without bluster and without ever letting up. It was a tall, loose-jointed fellow I met at the Elm Street Station, a typical down-easter, who had wandered over the world and finally settled down as driver of the nervous little wagon that carries Chief Ahearn, a daring man and famous, in his dashes from fire to fire over the city. In these days of idol-breaking it is good to see such hero worship as one finds here for all men who deserve it, whether in humble station or near the top, like this wiry little chief, asleep now upstairs against the night's emer- gencies. Ask any fireman in New York to tell you about Ahearn, and you '11 find there is one business where jeal- ousy doesn't rule. Ahearn? What do they think of Ahearn? Why, he 's a wonder, sir; he 's the dandiest man. Say, did ye ever hear how he crawled imder that blazing naphtha tank and got a man out who was in there imconscious? They gave him the Bennett medal for that. And d' ye know about the rescue he made up in Williams- bridge, when that barrel of kerosene exploded? Oh, but the prettiest thing Ahearn ever did was — Then each man will tell you a different thing. The driver's favorite story was of the night when Ahearn ran back into a burning tenement on Delancey Street, "where nobody had any business to go, sir, the fire was that fierce." It was fine to see his face light up as he told what his chief did on this occasion, and the whole quiet engine-house seemed to throb with pride. "You see," he went on, "there was a half-crazy mother screaming around that her baby was in the building. As a matter of fact, the baby was all right — some neighbors had it — but the mother did n't know that, and the chief did n't know it, either. He was chief of the Fourth Bat- 104 Public Service talion then; now he 's deputy chief — been promoted, y' know. Chief or not did n't cut any ice with him, and he just wrapped a coat around his head and went in. He got to the room all right where the woman said her baby was, and it was like a furnace; so he did the only thing a man can do — got down low on his hands and knees and worked along toward the bed, with his mouth against the floor, sucking in air. He went through fire, sir, that nearly burned his head off — it did bum off the rims of his ears — but he got to that bed somehow, and then he found he 'd done it all for nothing. There was n't any baby there to save. "But there was a chief to save now. He was about gone when he got back to the door, and there he found that a spring-lock had snapped shut on him, and he was a pris- oner, sir — a prisoner in a stove. He did n't have any strength left, poor old chief; he could n't breathe, let alone batter down doors, and we 'd had some choice mourning around here inside of a minute if the lads of Hook and Ladder 18 had n't smashed in after him. They thought he 'd looked for that baby about long enough. The last thing he did was to kick his foot through a panel, and they found him there unconscious, with his rubber boot sticking out into the hall. "Tell ye another thing the chief did," continued the driver. "He rescued a husband and wife, in the Hotel Jefferson, out of a seventh-story window, when the whole business was roaring with fire. That 's only about a month ago; it was a might j' sad case. We had three people to save, if we could, and two of 'em sick — the husband and wife — and the third was a trained nurse taking care of 'em. Shows how people get rattled in a fire. Why, if they 'd only kept their haU door shut — well, they did n't, and there they were, all three at the An Engine-House at Night 105 window, without hardly any clothes on, and the flames close behind 'em. "We got up on the top floor of the Union Square Hotel, the chief and I, about ten feet away along the same wall, and by leaning out of our windows we could tell 'em what to do. It was a case of ropes and swing across to us, but it is n't every man can make a rope fast right when a fire is hurrying him, especially a sick man, or mebbe it was a poor rope he had. Anyhow, when the nurse came out of that window, you might say tumbled out (you see, they made her go first), she just fell like that much dead weight, scared, you know, and when the rope tightened it snapped, and down she went, seven stories — killed her bang. "The chief saw that would never do, so we went up on the roof and threw over more rope. It was clothesline, the only thing handy, but I doubled it to make sure. And with that we got the husband and wife across all safe, for now, you see, we could lift 'em out easy, without such a terrible jerk on the rope. That was the chief's idea." "Yes," said I, "but you helped. What 's your name?" "No, no," he smiled; "never mind me. I 'm nobody. Let the chief have it all." And then he went on with the story, which interested me mainly as showing the kind of loyalty one finds among these firemen. Each man will tell of another man's achievements, not of his own. You could never find out what Bill Brown did from Brown himself. The clock ticked on; some service calls rang on the telephone, and once the driver bounded up in the middle of a word and stood with coat half off, in strained attention, counting the strokes of the gong. No, it was n't for them. They 'd go, though, on the second call. Second calls usually came within twenty minutes of the first, so we 'd 106 Public Service soon see. Meantime, lie told me about a fireman known as "Crazy" Banta. "Talk about daredevils!" said he, "this man Banta beat the town. Why, I 've known him to go up on a house with a line of men where they had to cross the ridge of a slate roof — you know, where the two sides slant up to a point. Well, the other men would straddle along careful, one leg on each side, but when Banta came he' d walk across straight up just like he was down on the street. That 's why we called him 'Crazy' — he 'd do such crazy things. "And f unn y? Well, sir, he 'd swaller quarters as fast as you 'd give 'em to him, and let you pvmch him in the stomach and hear 'em rattle around. Then he 'd Hght a match, open his mouth, put the match 'way inside, and let you watch the quarters come up again. Had a double stomach, or something. He could swaller canes, too, same as a circus man. Said he 'd learned all his tricks over in India, but some of the boys thought he hed. They said he 'd prob'ly traveled with some show. He used to tell us how he could speak Biumese and Siamese and Hindu, all those lingoes, just perfect; so one day a bat- taUon chief called his bluff when there were a lot of emi- grants from those parts down at the Battery, and blamed if Banta didn't chin away to the whole crowd of 'em; you 'd thought he was their long-lost brother. Was he a foreigner? No, sir; he was bom in Hobokus, N. J. "But the time Banta fixed his reputation all right was at a fire in Pell Street — some factory. After that he might have told us he could fly or eat glass or any old thing, and we'd have believed him. Tell ye what he did. This factory all smashed in after she 'd burned a while, and one of the boys — Dave Soden — got wedged imder the sec- ond floor, with all the other floors piled on top of him. It was a great big crisscross of timbers, with Dave at the bot- An Engine-House at Night 107 torn, and the flames eating in fast. We could see the whole thing was going to make a fine bonfire in about three min- utes, and it looked as if Dave would be in it. "You understand, we didn't dare pry up the timbers, for that would have brought the whole factory down on Dave and killed him plumb. And we could n't begin at the top .and throw off the timbers, for there was n't any time. We did n't know what to do, but Banta he did. He grabbed up a saw, and said he 'd crawl in and get Dave out. And, by thunder! he did. He just wriggled in and out like a snake through those timbers, and when he got to Dave he sawed off the end of a beam that held him and then dragged him out. He took big chances, for, you see, if he 'd sawed off the wrong beam it might have brought down the whole business on both of them. But Banta he knew how to do it. Oh, he was a wonder ! They gave him the medal for that, and promoted him. Say, you 'd never guess how he ended up?" "How?" I asked. "Got hit by a cable-car; yes, sir. Hm-t so bad they retired him. What d' ye think of that? Not afraid of the devil, and done up by a measly cable-car!" A FIERY ORDEAL^ By albert W. TOLMAN jRIZZLED and scarred, but tingling with the excitement of the fight he had so often waged, Thomas Jenkins, veteran fireman on the London force, thrust the nozzle into the hands of Arthiu* Scott, his new recruit from Yorkshire. Together they had dragged the hose through the snow up the narrow alley behind the burning building, until, twenty yards from the street, a brick wall barred their progress. Then, before the water came, Jenkins had smashed a window with his ax, and later had directed the increasing stream through the shattered sashes against the rear of a long stairway, from a closet beneath which the flames were beginning to burst. "Hold her there, lad! I '11 be back presently!" he shouted in the deafened ears of his subordinate, and was off down the alley to head an attack from another quarter upon the fire. Long experience had made him familiar with every foot of his district, and with the coolness and sagacity of a practiced fire-fighter, he saw in an instant what needed to be done. The scene of battle was in Southwark, not far from London Bridge, in a four-story brick building, the upper part of which was a pasteboard-box factory. When the engines arrived the flames were already bursting through the windows. The only exit from the factory was down 1 By courteous permission of the Author, " The Youth's Companion," and Ginn and Company. Copyright, 1905. 108 A Fiery Ordeal 109 three straight but steep and narrow flights of stairs, one directly over the other, up which flame and smoke were already surging. On the ground floor, beneath the last flight, the small closet filled with paint and oil lent ready fuel to the conflagration. Scott was to hold the fire at this spot in check. The first thing to do was to make sure that every one of the imperiled lives in the three upper stories was saved. The smoke drawing up the stairway had deterred all but a few of the women and girls from attempting to descend. Up the steps dashed the firemen, and began to bring down the half-smothered workers. Lives first; the build- ing afterward! Down in the gloom of the narrow alley Scott stood like an artilleryman at his gun. Before, behind, and to his left rose the brick walls. He was at close quarters with the foe. It took all his strength to hold the nozzle in its place, directing the rushing water to the spot where it was most needed. He heard with satisfaction the torrent hissing on the wood. The volumes of smoke told him he was doing good service. In the street at the end of the alley rose the stack of the shaking engine, filling the air with sparks at each hoarse, tremendous puff. That and the spot of flickering red through the window in front of him were the sole bright points in the hoseman's field of vision. Presently a gust of wind drove the smoke down round him, and it grew pitchy dark in that narrow, brick-walled canon. The engine disappeared, and even the lurid spot before him dimmed and blurred. As Scott stood awaiting further orders, he felt impatient to be actively at work inside the building. His mates had the inspiration of each other's presence and help. 110 Public Service They could move about. He was chained to a single place. He could hear the shuffling tread of feet, and now and then the smothered shriek of a woman, as men, bearing hea\-^' burdens, passed down the stairs. He could hear the crashing of wood, as doors and partitions gave way imder the swinging axes of his fellows. On the front of the building he knew that they were raising ladders, and he longed to be in the thick of the fight. But, as he stood there, holding the flames in check, he was the pivot on which aU turned, the hnk without which the life-saving chain would be useless. Jenkins knew men; and he felt sure that in the yoimg Yorkshire recruit he had a subordinate whom he could trust. From the street came a shrill whistling. Intermittent orders were shouted hoarsely beyond the smoke barrier: "This way with yoiu" ladders!" ":\Iore water!" ' ' Steady, everybody ! ' ' Scott heard it all, but could see nothing. He was enveloped by black, rolling clouds, that at times hid even the building from him. The broken window had hith- erto been fairly clear, but now it puffed out a choking flood of smoke full in his face. Still he kept the nozzle unflinchingly pointed through the window. But high above the hoseman's head was gathering a danger of which he did not dream. As is the case with many of the older buildings of that district, the valleys on the roofs were lined with sheets of lead, which melted in the intense heat, and began to trickle down the steep channels in gleaming threads. Soon these threads grew to silvery streams, which filled the gutters, overfiowed them, and poured down toward > > m O z .(umjiiui»fjlj((j{pi 1 A Fiery Ordeal 111 the snow-covered ground. Scott was right beneath the end of a valley down which one of these streams came darting. The first few scattered drops that pattered beside him he did not notice, for his eyes were glued to the dull red glare under the stairway, into the heart of which he was directing the jet of water. Suddenly a fiery drop fell on the back of the hoseman's right hand, and sank, hissing, into the flesh. Startled by the pain, the Yorkshireman involuntarily snatched his hand away, changing the direc- tion of the torrent that poured from the nozzle. In- stantly the flames burst forth afresh. Recalled to his duty by the sight, Scott turned his hose again toward the window; but he now saw a thin white stream faUing two feet from his right shoulder, and at once appreciated the danger that threatened him. The first leaden driblets disappeared under the snow, sending up a cohimn of steam. Then the volume of the riU increased, forming a little flake of metal, into which the stream fell with a heavy, guttering splash. With shrinking, sickened fascination Scott eyed the gleaming cascade. Let its course swerve ever so shghtly, and he might at any moment be covered with molten metal that would sear and bhnd and eat through skin and bone. Besides the danger to himseK, the growing leaden lake portended another peril. It was only six inches from the curve of the hose; if it spread but a httle farther it would burn a hole through the cloth and rubber, and he would no longer be able to hold the flames in check. He did not dare to attempt to move the line unaided, for fear that he might lose control of the fire. Yet, imperiled as Scott was, the thought of abandon- ing his post never entered his brain. No material bonds 112 Public Service held him there. He had but to drop the nozzle and step aside; three or iour paces would carry him safely beyond the reach of the searing stream. In that thick darkness no one would be the wiser for it. But the invisible tie of faithfulness to the duty entrusted to him chained him to the spot with bands stronger than steel. To desert his post now would mean to allow the fire to gaia headway beneath his comrades, as they labored to save the scores of fainting women above. The only exit was by the stairs. The fire threatened them. He held the fire in check. If he blenched, human fives would pay for it. Although his ruddy face grew pale, he did not move. Surely by this time the factory must be almost emptied of its workers! The sound of feet upon the stairs came less frequently. Jenkins might appear at any minute to order him elsewhere. Scott hoped with all his heart that his chief would come quickly. Scattered drops, hardening into shot pellets as they fell, pattered down roimd the fireman. Occasionally one struck his helmet or shoulder. Three or four burned through the hose, and fierce little geysers burst through its closely woven texture. A circle of snow about six feet in diameter was showered by the dropping lead. Scott could not see the roof from which it started. He did not dare to look up, fearing lest he might be struck in the face. The stream veered. Without warning a gush of seeth- ing fiquid fell on his helmet. The pohshed leather hat turned it aside, and in a second it lay on his right shoul- der. Before he could shake it off it had caught fast hold and sunk through his clothing to his skin, burning him frightfully. The Yorkshireman writhed in agony. Both hands were A Fiery Ordeal 113 busied with the nozzle, and he could make no motion toward brushing the lead away. He shook himself and shrugged his shoulders, but he did not Uft his hands from the cold steel pipe. Oh, that some one might come to relieve him! But not an inch did he retreat. On three sides the high, solid brick wall rose blankly, hemming him in; on the fourth stood the invisible wall of duty, higher and firmer than that of material brick. The cascade dwindled to a mere trickling thread. Then a final deluge of white-hot drops burst over the head of the new recruit, raining down like fiery hailstones, eating through his clothes and burning him cruelly in a dozen places. The limit of his endurance was almost reached. Sick with pain, he reeled, about to fall. For the last time the thought of his duty brought him back to consciousness. As he stood there, faint, staggering, suffering excru- ciatingly from his burns, but still directing the nozzle into the broken window, a shout reached his ears, and a black figure burst through the smoke. It was Jenkins. "It 's all right, Scott!" cried he. "They 're all out!" The strength of nerve and muscle that had carried the hoseman through his trial vanished, when no longer needed, and he collapsed in a dead faint. He came to just in time to hear Jenkins telling the story of his vigil to an interested group. The last sentence of his captain was the one that pleased Scott most : "We '11 keep him on the force, if we have to make an extra place for him." A PUBLIC HOUSEKEEPERS By SARAH COMSTOCK ELE state of Minnesota recently arranged to have its fall housecleaning done, and, that the matter might be thoroughlj- supervised, smnmoned an experienced pubUc house- wife to overlook the sweeping and scrubbing and window- cleaning and fresh painting. IMr. Scott Nearing, of the Universitj-" of Pennsylvania, hinted at some of woman's future acti^nties when he told of one he knew who was such a conscientious house- cleaner that she was in the habit of taking a skewer and picking the dust out of the cracks between the floor boards. "Imagine," said 2tlr. Xearing, "a skewer dex- teriously inserted into the cracks and crannies of our municipal flooring! What would it not reveal?" He added that women are famous housecleaners. Woman has already been robbed of many of her ancient pursuits. She no longer weaves her own wide-wale suit- ing, nor does she grind her own flour to make her Parker House rolls, nor does she kneel beside the gurgUng brook to launder her own lingerie waists. But the instinct of housekeeping can not be uprooted by a college education or even the ballot ; and if invention won't let her so much as sew on her own shoe-buttons any longer, and so forces her to seek new outlets for her energy, it is likely that she will do a deal of state housekeeping before she gets through. Here and there, the country over, we see women ' By permission of " Collier's Weekly." Copyright, 1910. 114 A Public Housekeeper 115 attending to such matters as doing away with a city's smoke, putting in order its back yards, sweeping its streets. As an example of what can be done when a woman sets about it, and a prophecy of what many women are hkely to do in the rapid onrush of the " femin- ist movement," we have the work of Mrs. Caroline Bart- lett Crane of Kalamazoo, Michigan. The state of Minnesota summoned Mrs. Crane to de- vote a month to looking into its cracks and poking therein with her skewer. A year ago she housecleaned twelve cities of Kentucky, spending five weeks at the task, and last month's adjournment of the Kentucky Legislature completed the securing of more advanced health legislation than in all the state's past history. Among the achievements are an annual school for county and city health officers, the model law for vital statis- tics, and an appropriation of thirty-nine thousand dollars annually for a state bacteriological laboratory. That much of this success was due to Mrs. Crane's efforts, no- body who watched her work doubts. Housekeeping, whether pubHc or private, begins at home, and Mrs. Crane did not pry into the affairs of her neighbors, such as Scranton in Pennsylvania, Concord in New Hampshire, Fargo in North Dakota, and Daytona in Florida, until she had set -Kalamazoo in the best order possible. Nor, for that matter, does she ever pry into her neighbors' affairs. They summon her. She travels under official auspices, commissioned by a state's board of health or a city's authorities, inspecting water supplies, paving of streets, street-cleaning, milk and meat, schools, lighting, heating, playgrounds, hospitals, workhouses, almshouses — in short, pokes her skewer to such an ex- tent that headlines Hke these mark her trail : "Mrs. Crane goes for the Henderson bakeries, dairies, 116 PubUc Service and scores the county jail; urges filtration plant, compli- ments parks and butchers, and goes on to Owensboro." "What :Mrs. Crane did to Calimiet in three days: Started whirlwind campaign which has already resulted in remarkable reforms in busy city." "Come out, fellers, ]Mrs. Crane's gone! Civic revivalist entrains for WUkesbarre and great is the reUef thereat. 'It 's a good job,' declared one, 'that she was n't a man.'" As a preacher in Kalamazoo she became interested in civic reform, and the People's Church over which she presided grew strong in institutional work. ]VIrs. Crane believed in practicing for six days what she preached on the seventh. She gave up her pastorate after awhile and went to work through the Woman's Civic Improvement League. Then her public housekeeping began in earnest. The street-cleaning campaign of Kalamazoo marked its opening. The streets of her town were dirty. Something must be wrong with the system. She set to work to study the methods of other cities, and at last caused to be installed the Colonel Waring system with its army of White Wings. Not only was it installed, but carried out thoroughly — so thoroughly that Kalamazoo became famous in that northwestern land as the Spotless Town of its region, and all the other towns came to see and copy. Back yards caught 'Slis. Crane's eye. The upshot was that cash prices for the best improved back yards were offered, the contest open to any family in the city. She issued a pamphlet, giving minute directions as to the disposal of garbage, the use of formaldehyde, the dangers of typhoid, and, as a final word, said: "^lake a beautiful flower-bed in the back yard. That will shame away the ash-heap, the old cans, the garbage. Everything will have to hve up to the beautiful flower-bed." A Public Housekeeper 117 Local charities were established under her auspices. A visiting housekeeper began to go the rounds of Kalama- zoo homes where lessons in homemaking were needed. The local slaughterhouses were visited and arguments for meat inspection set forth. A tramp's woodpile was estab- lished. The sad conditions of almshouses was discovered, and Mrs. Crane issued a pubhc letter headed: "Asylum vs. Poorhouse, or the Advantage of Being Insane." It took effect. And so she marched on, uprooting an evil here, inspiring fresh zeal there, rousing the people to their own needs and a sense of common welfare. Her fame spread and other cities wanted her. So her work of public housekeeping goes on in many states. The Conservation Congress held in St. Paul in March sent for her, and she told the big men of the state and the nation there assembled that women were tired of being told to "open your mouth and shut your eyes." Why shouldn't they be interested in clean streets, for instance, she inquired, since the streets lead directly to the home? Nine-tenths of what is called municipal busi- ness is nothing in the world but public housekeeping. Women don't want to compete with men but to cooper- ate with them. Have n 't women made as much of their limited opportunities as men? They won't want one- half or even one-tenth of the public offices, but they do want a chance to show their ability to better conditions. And so on. She does it in a way that the men don't mind in the least. Apparently they like it — at the end of this speech the men of Minnesota decided to summon Mrs. Crane to do their housecleaning for them. GOLDEN RULE JONES, LATE MAYOR OF TOLEDO 1 By ERNEST CROSBY ^N Chicago in the winter of 1895-96, I made the acquaintance of Samuel Milton Jones. I was natiu-aUy curious about this interesting man, and I heard some stories at this time which I have never forgotten. But perhaps before I tell them it would be best to give a brief outline of his life. He was born on August 3, 1846, in a laborer's stone cot- tage in the village of Bedd Gelert, North Wales. When he was three years old his parents emigrated to America with their family, taking up a collection first among their friends to raise the necessary fare. They made the voy- age in the steerage of a sailing vessel, and from New York they went by canal-boat up the Hudson and the Erie Canal to Utica and thence by wagon into Lewis Coimty, New York, where his father found familiar work in the stone quarries, and still later became a tenant-farmer. Sam went to the village school, and thirty months' attendance there constituted his entire formal education. He had a great dislike for farm work, but he was obHged to take part in it as a lad. At ten years of age he worked for a farmer who routed him out of bed at four o'clock in the morning, and his day's work did not end till sundown, for aU of which he received three dollars a month. At fourteen he was employed in a sawmill and his natural taste for mechanical work began to show itself. He had been considered lazy on the farm, but he assures us that ' By permission of "The Craftsman." Copjright, 1905. 118 Golden Rule Joiles 119 he never had a lazy hair in his head, and he makes his own case the text for a sermon on the importance of finding congenial work for boys and men. From the sawmill he passed on to the post of "wiper and greaser" in the engine-room of a steamboat on the Black River and learned a good deal about the management of en- gines. An engineer advised him to go to the oil regions of Pennsylvania, and soon after he arrived alone at Titusville, the center of that district, with fifteen cents in his pocket. For a short time he knew what it was to search for work and not find it, and all the rest of his life he felt the deepest sympathy with men in that sad con- dition. He had the greatest confidence in himself, how- ever, and, as he often pointed out, it was much easier to get work then and there than it is now anjTvhere. On arriving he had registered in a good hotel, trusting to luck to earn money to pay his bill, and in a short time the bill was paid. He wrote a letter home to his mother, but he did not have a cent to buy a stamp with. Seeing a gentleman on the way to the post-office, he asked him to post his letter, and then pretended to examine his pockets for the necessary three cents, whereupon the man offered to pay for it himself, which was just what young Jones had hoped he would do. Afterward Jones con- demned this deception of his, and cited it as proof of the evil effect of conditions which deny the right of work to any one. During his weary tramp in quest of a place one employer whom he accosted spoke kindly to him and encouraged him, giving him a letter to a friend of his who had oil wells twelve miles away. These kind words Jones never forgot and he always had at least a friendly smile for the "man out of a job" as a consequence of them. At last he found work, and remunerative work, too, in managing an engine which pumped the oil from a well. 120 Public Service He liked the work and advanced quickly, tUl, with occa- sional periods of hard times, and after doing all kinds of work connected with boring for oil, he saved a few hun- dred dollars and started digging for himseK, and became an employer. In 1875 he married, and after a very happy married life of ten years his wife died, as did also his httle daughter. These blows were almost too great for Jones's strength, and he followed the advice of his friends and removed with his two boys to the oil regions of Ohio, in order to divert his mind by change of scene. Here he was very successful, as these oil fields were just opened and developed very rapidly. "I have simpty taken ad- vantage," he says, "of opportunities offered by an tmfair social system and gained what the world calls success." In 1892 Jones married again, and about the same time he invented several improvements in oil-well appliances which he offered to the "trust," but they refused to touch them. His experience is evidence of the fact that our "trust" system does not encourage invention, being often satisfied to let weU enough alone, the managers sometimes buying up patents for the express purpose of suppressing them, and of thus saving the money already expended in old-fashioned plants. Jones was sure that his inventions were valuable, and hence he founded the "Acme Sucker Rod Company" and began manufactm-ing at Toledo on his own account, and made that city his home. He had ne-\-er Uved in a city before, and Toledo, with its hundred and fifty thou- sand inhabitants, proved to be a new world to him. City life was very different from the life he had hitherto knowTL. In the oil fields society was simple and there was no great gulf between employer and employee, but in to^Ti it was altogether different. In the factories which he A-isited the men were mere "hands," and were Golden Rule Jones 121 not considered as human beings, and in each shop there was a long hst of precise rules posted, invariably end- ing with the warning that immediate discharge would follow any infraction of them. This made Jones's blood boil and he determined to manage things otherwise in his factory. The idea occurred to him to put up the Golden Rule instead of a placard of regulations, but he fought against it in his mind, knowing that it might seem peculiar and that it would be misunderstood, but the thought took possession of him and finally up it went, "Whatsoever ye will that men should do to you, do ye even so to them," or, as he was wont to translate it in conversation, "Do unto others as if you were the others." When, on opening his shop, he sat down with his fore- man to make out the pay roll, the latter took from his pocket a statement of the wages paid by other companies. "Put that away," cried Jones. "What has that got to do with it? What can we afford to pay?" And the result of this novel plan was that he always paid the highest wages for the shortest hours of any employer in Toledo. One of those kindly critics who invariably find fault with honest efforts to do good blamed him once for paying high wages when so many men were out of employment. "You might employ twice as many if you cut down their wages one-half," he said. "If there is to be any cutting down," was the answer, "it seems to me it ought to come out of my share, and not from men who are getting much less than I am." Once when he was visiting the factory of a neighbor the latter said to him: "See here, Jones, here is a case that troubles me. How would you treat it according to your new ideas? I have a man here who has spoiled three 122 PubUc Service sets of castings in a week and that means a loss of so much. What would you do with him? " "The first thing I would do," Jones replied, "would be to imagine myself in his place. How long have you employed him? " "Two years, is n't it?" answered the proprietor, turning to his bookkeeper. "Yes, sir, two years and three months." "Has he ever spoiled a casting before," asked Jones. "No." "How much vacation has he had since he came?" "Look at the books and see," said the employer to the clerk. "Let me see," answered the latter, taking down a blankbook and turning over the pages, "two, three, — just five days in all." "Why, I understand it very well," said Jones with a smile. "His nerves have got out of order with continual wear and tear. If I were you I would give him a fort- night's vacation!" And in his own shop each employee had a week's holiday each summer with full pay, an imheard-of luxury until he introduced it. On one occasion one of Jones's workmen got drunk and injured a horse belonging to the company by dri'sdng it into a telegraph pole. The next day the foreman came into the office and said, "Of course Brown must be dis- charged to-day." "Why?" asked Jones, "He was dead dnmk, was n't he, with no more sense than a stick or a stone? Now, suppose we could take a stick or a stone and make a good citizen for the state of Ohio out of it, don't you think it would be even better than making sucker rods? Send Brown to me when he comes in." And when at last Brown came, shamefaced and repentant, into the private Golden Rule Jones 123 office, Jones said nothing, but took down his testament from the sheK and read the story of the woman who was accused before Jesus, ending with the words, "Neither do I condemn thee; go and sin no more." And that was all the reproof the man received. He was often blamed for keeping intemperate men in his employ, but his object was to reclaim them. "It would be an easy matter to 'fire out' every drinking man in the shop and fill their places with sober men," he says. "That would be easy. Any 'good business man' could do that. But to make conditions in and about a shop that will make life so attractive and beautiful to men as to lead them to live beautiful Uves for their own sake and for the sake of the world about them, this is a task calling for qualifications not usually required of the 'successful business manager.' " Such were the anecdotes which I heard with regard to Jones when I first met him at Chicago. And the strange thing was that his business methods were completely successful. He turned the vacant land next to his fac- tory ^ space which was sorely needed for his increasing business — into a park and playground and named it Golden Rule Park. He established an eight-hour day, although none of his competitors followed his example, and yet his business and his income grew. "If I don't look out," he said to me once, "I '11 become a million- aire, and what should I do with a million? It 's a curious fact that while I never thought of such a thing, this Golden Rule business has helped the company. People give me four hundred dollars for engines which they won't pay over three hundred and fifty dollars for to other manufacturers. I don't understand itat all." I was present once at his office in Toledo while he and two of his managers were discussing what to do with a recalcitrant debtor. They had delivered a machine to 124 Public Service this man a year before, and, although he was amply- able to pay, he had never sent the money. The two men were trying to persuade Jones to bring suit against him, but he would not look at the case in that Ught. He did not like the idea of going to law, and would only promise to think it over. One thing which troubled him was the handsome house in which he hved and which he had built or bought before his democratic nature had fully matured. The "settlement" idea impressed him at Chicago. "If I had only known of this before," he said, "I would have built my house down among the homes of our work- men." He felt like an exile in the fashionable quarter of Toledo, and he made it a point to take his midday meal with the men ia "Golden Rule Hall," over the fac- tory, where he organized a common dining-room for them at cost. Jones actually loved his fellow men, not in theory only, but bj' instinct, and it is interesting to watch a man who acts upon such imusual principles, for you are alwaj-s wondering what he will do next. What would a lover of his kind do under such and such circimistances? It is as interesting as a chess problem, "white to move and check in three moves." He dropped in upon a cooperative restaurant once in Xew York and found the young men and women employed there with two or three hours of leisure on their hands. He solved the problem on the spot by taking all hands off to a baseball match, and a merry and imconventional party they must have been. In his "Autobiographj-," which forms an introduction to his book, "The Xew Right," pubMshed in 1899, Jones gives us his first impressions of business life in Toledo. "I think," he says, "the first real shock to my social con- sciousness came when the swarms of men swooped down Golden Rule Jones 125 upon us begging for work, soon after signs of life began to manifest themselves around the abandoned factory which we rented for our new enterprise. I never had seen anything like it; their piteous appeals and the very pathos of the looks of many of them stirred the deepest sentiments of compassion within me. I felt keenly the degradation and shame of the situation; without knowing why or how, I began to ask myself why I had a right to be comfortable and happy in a world in which other men, by nature quite as good as I, and willing to work, willing to give their service to society, were denied the right even to the meanest kind of existence. ... I soon discovered that I was making the acquaintance of a new kind of man. Always a believer in the equality of the Declaration of Independence, I now, for the first time, came into contact with workingmen who seemed to have a sense of social inferiority, wholly incapable of any conception of equality, and this feeling I believed it was my duty to destroy. Without any organized plan, and hardly knowing what I was doing, I determined that this groveling conception must be overcome; so we began to take steps to break down this feeling of class distinction and social inequahty." He arranged for an occasional picnic or excursion, to which the men came with their families, and he invited them to receptions at his fine house to which his wealthier friends were also bidden. These experiments of Jones's attracted public atten- tion in Toledo to him. In the spring of 1897 a conven- tion of the RepubHcan party in that city was held to select a candidate for mayor, and it so happened that there was a deadlock between the supporters of three contending candidates, no one of whom could secure a majority. It was necessary to compromise upon a new man, and the belief that the name of Jones would 126 Public Service appeal to the labor A'ote caused the selection to fall upon him. He had always been a Repubhcan and a church member and was supposed to be entirely conser\'ative and respectable, — a httle eccentric, perhaps, but with eccentricities which might prove good vote-getters. To- ledo was a Repubhcan town and Jones was elected bj' a majority of over five hundred. If Jones's nomination was a surprise to the party man- agers, his course in office was still more so, for he refused absoluteh' to listen to partisan adAdce of any kind and devoted himself to the task of applj-ing the Golden Rule to the administration of the city government. He tells us that he thought that the great need of mtmicipahties was the formation of ideals. Looking upon us as "a nation of Mammon worshipers, with gold as our god," he endeavored to "lift the pubhc mind in some measm-e into the domain of art and ideahsm." "I beheve," he adds, "that it is the artistic idea of hfe that helps us to see the possibihtj' of a social order in which aU hfe, every life, may be made beautiful." In this way he took up the ideal of social justice, and advocated an eight-hour workday for mimicipal em- ploj^ees, and succeeded ia estabhshing it in the poUce department and the waterworks. He induced the pohce commissioners to adopt the merit system of appointment to the force. In his second annual message to the com- mon council he made many recommendations, including the ownership by the city of its own gas and electric- Hght plants, a larger share of home rule to be obtained from the Legislature, the referendmn upon all extensions of public franchises, the abandonment of the contract system of pubUc work, the addition of kindergartens to the school system, larger appropriations for pubhc parks and for music in the parks, and for playgrounds and Golden Rule Jones 127 baths. But it was not so much the specific measures advocated in it as the spirit of brotherhood breathing through the whole message which drew wide attention to this unusual document and brought letters of approval from Count Tolstoi and W. D. Howells. When the Mayor's two years' term of office drew near its end, the RepubUcan convention met again to name his successor. The supporters of Mayor Jones were almost numerous enough to nominate him, but by under- hand means they were prevented from securing the nec- essary votes and the choice fell upon another. Jones at once announced himself as an independent candidate, beheving that the people approved of his administration, and the liveliest campaign ensued that Toledo had ever seen. The Democrats nominated a third candidate also, and all the power of both "machines" was exerted to put down this political upstart. He was actively opposed by all the newspapers of the city. The clergy turned against him, because he was considered too friendly to the saloon- keepers, the fact being that he could not help being friendly to everybody, while he believed that the Sunday laws should be enforced "according to the standard of existing public sentiment." One of the reforms which he had instituted was the substitution of Ught canes for clubs in the hands of the poUce. "I have sought to impress upon the patrolmen that they are the pubHc servants and not public bosses," he says in a letter of defense of his mayoralty during this campaign; "I have told them individually and collectively, and especially impressed upon the new men, that the duty of a patrolman is to do all in his power to make it easy for the people to do right and hard for them to do wrong, and I have added, 'An officer can often render better service by saving the city the necessity of arresting one 128 Public Service of her citizens by helping a prospective offender to do right instead of waiting for him to be caught in a fault in order that he may be dragged a culprit to prison.' " And he pointed with pleasure to the fact that the num- ber of arrests had fallen off about twenty-five per cent, or a thousand cases, in a year, and that the city was more orderly than ever notwithstanding. The real issue of the local campaign was, however, the grant of a fran- chise for practically nothing to an electric-light and street-railway company, and the false issues of the saloon and the pohce were brought in to becloud the mind of the pubUc. The labor unions promptly ralHed to the support of Mayor Jones and his own employees organ- ized a band and glee club which accompanied him wher- ever he addressed the people, singing labor songs written by hims elf. The enthusiasm of his meetings was un- Umited, and a bUnding snowstorm was not suflacient to curb his followers, who carried out their program of a procession notwithstanding, their energy being only stimulated by "two or three inches of snow" on their umbrellas. The newspapers on the eve of election predicted the overwhelming success of their candidates, but when the votes were counted Jones had received sixteen thousand seven hundred and seventy-three out of a total of twenty- four thousand one hundred and eighty-seven, while his opponents divided the remaining votes pretty evenly be- tween them. He had received seventy per cent of the vote against the united and determined opposition of all the parties and the entire press. It was a personal triumph such as is rarely experienced in popular elections, and not only a personal triumph but a demonstration of the power of the spirit of the Golden Rule over the multitude when it is frankly expressed in the life of a Golden Rule Jones 129 man. Mayor Jones was reelected in the spring of 1901 and of 1903 and held the office at the time of his death. His knowledge of political parties gained in office led him to doubt the value of these institutions, and he soon after his second election announced his conviction that parties were evils, and occasionally he signed his name as "a man without a party." In the autumn of 1899 he was a candidate for Governor of Ohio upon a no-party platform, and received one hundred and twenty-five thou- sand votes, the campaign giving him an excellent oppor- tunity to preach his views in all parts of the state. He might have gone to Congress the following year, but he declined the nomination. The last time he was a candi- date for Mayor, in 1903, the animosity of the press was so great against him that the editors of Toledo agreed not to mention his name, referring to' him, when it was unavoidable, as "the present incumbent of the Mayor's office," but still he was elected by a plurality of three thousand votes. The most picturesque portion of the official life of Mayor Jones was that which he passed as a police magis- trate. If it is hard for an employer to express love for neighbor in his life, how much more so is it for a magis- trate and chief of police! and as mayor he had to fulfill the functions of both, and the result was sometimes amusing and instructive. The charter of Toledo pro- vided that in the absence of the pofice-justice the Mayor could occupy his place, and on several occasions he did so. He had formed the opinion that our police courts are "largely conducted as institutions that take away the liberties of the people who are poor" and he resolved that they should never be so used in his hands. On the first day that he sat there was only one prisoner, a beggar, who pleaded guilty but besought the Mayor to 130 Public Service let him leave town. "This man' has a divine right to beg," said the Mayor. The policeman informed him that the prisoner had been arrested for drunkenness the pre- ceding Friday. "Only the poor are arrested for drunk- enness," replied Jones. "You would not arrest a rich man for drunkenness; you would send him home in a hack." The beggar asked again to be allowed to leave Toledo. "I do not see what good that would do," said the Mayor. . "You would only go elsewhere and would not be any better off. We can not drive a man off the earth, and the worst thing that can happen to any man is to be out of work. Under the circumstances I think we shall have to let you go; but you must keep out of the way of the officers. You are dismissed." On the next court-day three men were brought before him on charges of burglary and petty larceny, and two of them pleaded guilty. The newspapers report that the Mayor watched the men during their arraignment with a "peculiar expression of face." Then he began to phi- losophize: "I do not know how it would benefit you," he said, "to send you to the workhouse. If I thought it would do any good to send you to the penitentiary, I would send you there for five or ten years, but I never heard of any person being benefited by serving time in that institution. I would not send a son of mine to the penitentiary, although it is not a matter of sentiment with me. If I thought it would do him any good, I might send him there. . . •. Now take the case of this young man," and he pointed to one of the prisoners, "he is suffering from a loathsome disease, — crime is a disease, you know, — and imprisonment would not to my mind effect a cure for him. I will continue the case for decision." On the following morning, before going to the court- Golden Rule Jones 131 room, the Mayor went to the turnkey's office and, caUing the three men before him, he gave them a good talk. "He reminded the Wilsons," says the newspaper reporter, "it was a crime to steal from the poor, at least that was the way his argument sounded" (but perhaps the reporter missed its full effect). "He spoke to the men at length, and then, shaking hands all round, told them to go home and be good citizens." No announcement of any de- cision was made in court, but on the docket the Mayor entered the words, "dismissed, sentence reserved," the meaning of which is perhaps a little hazy. On this day another case came before him involving the misdemeanor of using a gambling device in the form of a "penny-in-the-slot" machine. The Mayor was very impatient of the time consumed by the lawyers and apparently was not much shocked by the transgression. "The best way to dispose of this case, in my opinioli," he said in conclusion, "is to turn the machine over to the owner and let him stand it face to the wall. . . . The defendant is dismissed." jTwo months later the Mayor again held covirt in place of the regular magistrate. Five men were brought be- fore him on the charge of begging. The Mayor addressed them paternally. "It was like a parent threatening to chastise wayward children, but withholding the rod in view of their promises to be good," said the Toledo "Bee." They were discharged. Then came the case of a tramp, found drunk with a loaded pistol on his person. The Mayor held the pistol up so that every one could see it and declared that it was a devilish weapon, intended solely to kill human beings. It was worse than useless; it was hellish, and worse than whisky a thousand times. The prisoner was sentenced to smash the revolver to pieces with a sledge-hammer, and the court adjourned 132 Public Service to another room to see the sentence carried out. As they left the court-room "the ]\Iayor laid his arm affec- tionately over the shoulder of the prisoner, who grasped his hand with a sudden pressure that indicated how Uttle he had expected the unusual sentence." So runs the newspaper report. A poHceman put the pistol in a vise, the prisoner was given a sledge-hammer, and in an instant he had smashed the weapon to frag- ments and was a free man again. The last case which came before Mayor Jones was that of three young men who had indulged in a free fight over a game of ball and whose appearance testified to the fact. "You stand up where I can see you!" cried the ^layor. "There you have it without saying a word, — brute force," and after a stem lecture he let them go. The Legislature of Ohio soon got wind of the fact that a man with a heart was holding court in Toledo and they promptly repealed the law allowing the Alayor to take the magistrate's place. At his last appearance on the bench Jones made a httle farewell address which explains his coiirse. He said: "The Legislatm-e is greater than the people and it has seen fit to take the power of appointing temporary pohce-judges from the hands of the !Mayor. I have no fault to find with the arrangement. I have no unkind feeling towards any one connected with this police- court, and I have made friends do\^Ti here who' will last as long as life. It is a comfort to reflect that in aU my experience as acting poHce-judge I have done nothing either as judge or as a ^Maj'or that I would not do as a man. I have done by the unfortimate men and women who have come before me in this court everything in my power to help them to Hve better hves and nothing to hinder them. I have sent no one to prison, nor im- posed fines upon people for their being poor. In short, I Golden Rule Jones 133 have done by them just as I would have another judge do by my son if he were a drunkard or a thief, or by my sister or daughter, if she were a prostitute. I am aware of the fact that many people believe in the virtue of brute force, but I do not. For my part I would be glad to see every revolver and every club in the world go over Niagara Falls, or, better still, over the brink of hell." In a letter to the Toledo press he further explains that his actions in court were based upon the Golden Rule. "There are two methods," he says, "of dealing with people whose liberty makes them a menace to society, — on the one hand, prisons, penalties, punishment, hatred, and hopeless despair, and on the other, asylums, sym- pathy, love, help, and hope." The last time I saw Golden Rule Jones (for by this name he was known), only a month or two before his death, he showed me a letter from a condemned mur- derer in the Toledo jail, a man who has probably since then been executed. It was dated "Lucas County Jail, April 14th, 1904," and contained the following para- graphs: "During my confinement at the Central Station and the County Jail, and of all the large number of men who have come and gone, I have never heard one word of anything except praise and admiration for you. And this is not caused by a false conception of your theories — far from it ! They all understand how thoroughly and unreservedly you condemn crime. But the theories of punishment advanced by you are what calls forth their admiration. And the majority of these men do not fear corporal punishment, for they constitute a class who can never safely be driven, but they can be easily led, provid- ing the leader strikes the proper note." That there is truth in what this man says is shown by the reduced number of arrests in Toledo during Mayor Jones's in- 134 Public Service cumbency, and the improved order of the city, while the number of drinking places under his liberal policy was actually diminished. Opinions will doubtless differ as to the value of jNIayor Jones's contribution to the science of penology, but I am sorry for the man who does not appreciate his spirit. His attitude on the bench and his comments are the natural outgrowth of the heart of a man who takes his place as judge with a deep love of mankind within him. His position was necessarily tentative. The precedents of hatred, fear, and retribution are piled up in our law libraries, but the precedents of love and sympathy have yet to be established, and Mayor Jones was a pioneer in this department. The day may yet come when his ex- ample on the bench will be cited with greater respect than many a learned decision which is now regarded as impregnable. The Legislature not only removed jNIayor Jones from the pohce court, but from time to time it curtailed his power in various ways, taking away the right of appoint- ment to office, and building up hostile forces in the city government. The common council was always opposed to him, and outside of the mayor's office the franchise- grabbers had it all their own waj-. Still he succeeded in accomplishing a few practical things, which his friend Brand TMiitlock has simamarized in an article in the "World's Work." He himaanized the police, introduced kindergartens, public playgrounds, and free concerts, estabhshed the eight-hoiu- day for city employees and a minimum day's wages of one dollar and a half for com- mon labor. He used the carriages of the Park Depart- ment to give the children sleigh rides in winter, devised a system of lodging houses for tramps; laid out public golf links in the parks, and organized a policeman's band. Golden Rule Jones 135 He gave away all his mayor's salary to the poor and his office looked like a charity bureau, so many were the applicants for relief who besieged it. Nor did he turn away from any one. A thorough democrat in feeling, he never was conscious of any inequality when he met the great and rich, or when he dropped in at the jail to talk with the prisoners. He was a born orator in the best sense of the word, that is, he could think out' loud before an audience in such a way as to reveal to all his love for them and his earnest desire to follow the right as he saw it. He drew crowds, and those who came from curiosity stayed to hear and learn. Mr. Whitlock gives an example of the way in which he reached the hearts of his hearers. "What's the Polish word for liberty?" he asks of an audience of Polish workmen. They shout a word' in reply. "Say it again," cries Jones, turning his head to listen. They shout it again still louder. He tries to pronoimce it and fails, and they all laugh together. "Well, I can't say it," he says, "but it sounds good to me," and he proceeds to gpeak at length on freedom. Mayor Jones was an author as well as an orator. He published three books, "The New Right," and two vol- umes of "Letters of Love and Labor," containing letters which he wrote from week to week to his own employees and handed to them with their pay envelopes. It is safe to say that no such communications have ever before been made from the hirer to the hired. One letter, for instance, is entitled "The Slavery of the Wages System." "Dear Friends:" he writes, "... It is true that the present system of relation among men and women whereby some work for or serve others for hire is a system of modified slavery, the degree of slavery varying some- ' Wolnosc swoboda. 136 Public Service what according to the master or mistress. . . . The most conspicuous evil of the present system is found in the fact that it gives some men arbitrary power over others, and this sort of power of one man over his fellow men is in reality tjrranny, no matter by what other name it may be called: and because it is tyranny, it is damaging alike to the ruler and the ruled. . . . Because I believe in equality, — believe that you spring from the same divine source that I do, — because of that, I believe that the natm-al impulse for you and for all men is to desire to do the right thing because it is right. Therefore we have been trying to direct the business of the Acme Sucker Rod Company from that standpoint. ..." Another letter is on the subject of "Love and Reason or Hate and Force," and was called forth by the adoption of strict rules by the men to govern their insurance society, in fear of each other's dishonesty. "We have the authority of the greatest teacher the world ever knew," he writes, "for saying that the way to overcome evil is with good. The gospel of force and hatred as represented by laws, policemen's clubs, con- stables, sheriffs, jails, prison, armies, navies, and legal- ized murder in many forms has had its inning ; and crime, wretchedness, misery, and war still curse this beautiful earth. Let us try the other plan. Let us try, in a small way, to overcome evil with good — that is, to put out fire with water rather than with kerosene oil. "Let us manifest our faith in God by our faith in the God (the good) in our fellow men, by our faith in human- ity. Believe me, dear friends, there is good in every soul that breathes. All the rule that you really need is just enough to provide for Equality, that all shall be served alike, and I am sure that by trusting your fellow men, trusting to the rule of love and reason, and appealing to Golden Rule Jones 137 the manhood and honesty in them, you will be far more likely to succeed than by imitating lawmakers and rulers in an effort to 'force' men to be honest." The object of these letters was "to lead to a more perfect understanding" between him and his employees, and he placed a box in the office in which letters of criti- cism, anonymous or signed, could be dropped by the men, a privilege which was sometimes availed of. These letters of Jones's treat of a great variety of topics. In them he advocates trade-unionism, although he declares that he is "far beyond" it. "I want a condition where there will be no war nor need of war measures." He deprecates the caste feeling which exist,s among work- men and the contempt which skilled labor exhibits toward that which is unskilled. He points out what he has been able to accomplish in the factory, to wit, a minimum wage of two dollars a day for every man who had been in the service of the company for a year; no child labor, men being paid to do "children's work"; no "piece work," no work "contracted out," no overtime, no time- keeper, each man reporting his own time, and a cash dividend of five per cent on the year's wages at Christ- mas. In the oil fields he stuck to full pay for an eight- hour day, while all other employers required twelve hours' work. In one letter he urges the claims of cooperative insurance upon the men. If the men agreed to leave one per cent of their wages on deposit for this purpose, the company contributed a like amount for the same end, to be paid out as insurance in case of sickness or injuries. Still later a system by which the men could receive stock in the company was devised and put in operation. His Christmas letters to the men perhaps go the deep- est. One of them is on the "Christ principle" of love to enemies, doing good to those that hate you and over- 138 Public Service coming evil with good. Another is devoted to "peace on eaxth, and good -will toward men." "My meaning will be made clearer," he says, "when I say that I am addressing Jones as much, — perhaps more, — than I am addressing anybody else. My very intimate acquaintance with Jones leads me to say that he has not j'et come into that real- ization of 'peace on earth, and good will toward men' that is his privilege, and the privilege of all who listen to and obey the promptings of the voice within. . . . The practical apphcation of it is, you must Uve the Christ spirit, you must refuse to fight, you must refuse to kiU, you must reject force, you must deny that under any condition a big man has a right to force a Uttle man or a child, you must stand for love as the only arbiter of right, and you must stand for it at any cost. ... I am hopeful to the last degree, for 1 can see that just as soon as the people awaken to the idea of oneness and imity, of brotherhood, the common soldiers will throw down their guns, and, refusing to fight, will faU into each other's arms and laugh at their masters, and thus all war will end just as soon as the common workingmen determine that they will not kill each other. This is the promise that the Christmas bells annually renew in our ears — 'Peace on earth, good will toward men.'" MUNICIPAL GOVERNMENT 1 By CHARLES W. ELIOT jHERE is the keenest interest in municipal reform in all the intelligent communities which have suffered, or believe they have suffered, from municipal misrule; and the number of those communities is very large in our country. In the first place, we all want, it seems to me, — and I say this of all the communities where I have the privilege of discussing the question of municipal reform — to keep as close to the experience of American communities as we can. We do not desire to go off into violent experiments on city government. We want to be guided by the expe- rience acquired by American communities already, since that experience covers many of the points which must be under discussion whenever we aim at municipal reform. For instance, the experience of American cities which have within recent years procured new charters, has al- ready demonstrated the superiority of one-chamber gov- ernment to two-chamber government. That proposition we may assume, particularly in Massachusetts, where so many cities have had good experience — a universally favorable experience — of one-chamber government. It does not follow from this statement that all the one-cham- ber governments have been good; but it does follow that they have been better than the two-chamber in tlje same localities. Secondly, I believe that experience has demonstrated to our reasonable satisfaction that all the experiments of put- ' By permission of the Author. 139 140 Public Service ting the government of cities into the hands of one man have failed. I can not find a single case in which the gov- ernment of a city by an omnipotent mayor has succeeded. I can not find a single case in which it has prevented the conmionest and most objectionable forms of corruption and thie\'ing. The one-man power in the hands of a mayor has failed already in the United States as a remedy for municipal inefficiency and municipal dishonesty. It is not sufficient that you be able to put yom- finger on one man and say to him, "You are responsible for this evil." You can not get municipal reform in that way. Xo man can reaUy manage alone the extensive and diversified work of a great city; he can not be justh' held responsible for work beyond his physical and mental powers. He must have, in order to secure efficiency and honesty, both honest colleagues and expert subordinates. Again, it has been demonstrated over and over again in this country that ward elections will not give us what we want — capable, honest municipal administrators. There is only one voice on that subject ia our countrj', and the voice shouts that the election of mtmicipal officers by wards or districts is imsuccessful. The reasons are two- fold. In the first place, when you imagine a small group of electors electing a man to represent a ward interest you are attributing a wrong or petty motive to the electors. You can not get any real business of a cit j' done now on the principle of ward representation, or of local interest as defined by ward. To defend petty interests of that sort petty men -nill be elected; and the great affairs of a city can not be entrusted to men selected with such an object. Imagine providing a ward with a water supply, or good fights in the streets, or fresh air or a good sewerage system. It is absolutely Municipal Government 141 impossible to conduct those great businesses — for they are great businesses — on ward principles or on district principles. We found it absolutely impossible to get adequate sew- ers, water supply, and parks for the city of Boston unless we took into consideration the interests of the surrounding communities. The best work which has been done for Boston has been done by combining thirty or more com- munities together for a common task; and the very notion that the ward has local interests distinct from city interests is false from the start. I say, therefore, that the ward method of organizing a city government has failed and deserved to fail. Now to recapitulate. As results of experience, we have got rid or should have got rid of two-chamber govern- ments, of the one autocratic mayor and of the method of ward election. The experience of Boston itself teaches all three lessons. Boston also illustrates the next principle which the experience of American cities during the last few years in- clines us to believe in — • namely, the probabihty of secur- ing capacity and honesty in a small board elected at large. The new Boston School Committee is a first-rate case in point — few in number, all elected at large, and selected, as experience shows, with reference to capacity, honesty, and public spirit. Such being the teaching of experience, what remains to be studied, to be observed, and to be made the subject of experiment? In the course of the discussions to which I have Ustened during the last three years, often and often I have heard it said by experienced men — men experi- enced in municipal government, in state government, in the national government — that all these discussions about forms of government in cities are in vain. The real ques- 142 Public Service tion is — - can universal suffrage select and elect competent and honest ofl&cials to manage municipal affairs? You come down at last to the question what universal suffrage is capable of doing. What is the answer to this statement? Universal suffrage, as a matter of experience, has failed in aU the large American cities, including Boston of late. It is an actual failure of universal suffrage that confronts us. What is the remedy then? Well, some persons pro- pose modifications of imiversal suffrage. An increase, for instance, of the proportional number of tax-paying voters by giving the suffrage in Boston to people who own real property within the limits of the city, but do not re- side within those limits. That is one of the favorite pro- posals of those who believe that imiversal suffrage can not be trusted to produce, elect, and put into power competent and honest men. Various other suggestions for modify- ing the suffrage have been made by men who at bottom beheve that universal suffrage not only has failed, but in the nature of things must fail. I do not accept this doctrine at aU. I inquire. How can we give imiversal suffrage a better chance to select and elect competent and honest city officials? T\Tien we encounter a difficult}' in the administration of free gov- ernment, let us seek a remedj^ which is not inconsistent with the fundamental principles of our government. We all admit that imiversal suffrage is the foundation of our governments — of government municipal, state, and national. We beUeve that universal suffrage is an im- mensely strong educative force; and on the whole we do not propose to abandon those beUefs. For the e\-il condi- tions of municipal government we should first try remedies which are consistent with the maintenance of imiversal suffrage. The experience of the world — of other nations — will suggest many experiments upon the suffrage, when Municipal Government 143 we have demonstrated — as we have not done yet — that universal suffrage can not provide pure municipal govern- ment. Now, appealing again to experience, there is a group of American cities which have been trying experiments on giving universal suffrage a better chance to succeed. Is it not wise for us in Boston carefully to examine that expe- rience to see on what principles the new experiments rest, and to consider whether it were not wise for Boston to adopt similar experiments on helping universal suffrage to an honest and competent administration? What are these recent experiences in other American cities? They are all of one kind: First, a great reduction in the number of persons to be elected to constitute and conduct the government. Now, is not that itself a prom- ising aid for universal suffrage? Recall what we all of us go through at each of our elections. We are presented with a ballot containing anywhere from twenty to fifty names. At the very last election in Cambridge I was presented with a ballot that contained over thirty names, and among those names there were only four or five per- sons of whom I had ever heard in my life. What was my resort? I just voted for aU the Repubhcans ; and I felt mortified. We shall never give universal suffrage a fair chance until we get rid of such intolerable conditions for the voter. Universal suffrage is asked to perform a function which it is totally incompetent to perform, and which the most intelhgent of the voters absolutely fail to perform. I am told that the recent ballots in the city of New York con- tained many more than sixty names. Recent experiences in general elections at Galveston, Houston, and Des Moines, and in school-committee elections at St. Louis, Indianapolis, Rochester, and Boston, demonstrate that 144 Public Service universal suffrage has a fair chance when called on to vote for five men instead of thirty or sixty. When a voter is called upon to decide that he prefers these five men to those five men, he has a task before him which he can perform, and can perform weU. That is the hopeful direction for efforts to help imiver- sal suffrage to get a worthy result. What we want to do is to give the voters a good chance to make an inteUigent selection of agents. Is it not clear that the voter can say to himself, "These are five men whom I prefer; these are the five men whom I have heard about as competent, able men of business, and men of affairs ; these are the five men I know must be competent, because they have succeeded ia their own affairs, ia their own business; these are the men who I beheve have the character and the inteUigence to serve the citj^ well" ? Then the experiences of the cities I have just named have resulted in another constructive step. They have all of them abandoned the onmipotent mayor. Several of them do not give the mayor a veto. The cities are copying here the administration of all the successful great cor- porations. Our great industrial corporations are not ad- ministered by one man. There is a great deal of private fanuly or small firm business which is administered, or may be said to be administered, by one man. But city busi- ness and great corporation business have outgrown such limits. Take a great railroad, for instance, like the Pennsylvania. It is not administered by one man. It is administered by a small group of men — the president and the vice-presi- dents who employ experts for aU their subordinate divi- sions. Even in a great army it is not one man who makes the most important determinations — not at least untU he has consulted his staff and his corps commanders. Who Municipal Government 145 was it that decided that the army of the Potomac should not attack General Lee as he retreated from Gettysburg towards the river? Not General Meade. It was the majority of the council of generals that determined that Lee should not be attacked. Six men voted against it, and only three voted for it, and those were the three who would have had the least to do with an attack on General Lee. That was not to their discredit. One of the three was a general of cavalry, and cavahy can perform but a very moderate function in pitched battles like that of Gettysburg. Even in mihtary affairs it is oftenest the voice of a coun- cil of generals that guides the one man that is ultimately responsible. I have heard myself referred to on various occasions of late as having done many things for Harvard Univer- sity by my single might. The university's business per- fectly illustrates what I mean by group work. It has not been one man that has done this work; all along it has been a group, or groups, of men led or stimulated by one man ; but always the effective force, the real power, has been group efficiency and zeal. It must be just so in municipal government; and the experience of a dozen American cities within the last eight years illustrates the success of the small group method. Do not put power into one man's hands; put it into the hands of a group. That group will have a leader, if uni- versal suffrage succeeds in picking out the best man for mayor; although I am not stue that it would be best for universal suffrage to designate which one of the five should be mayor. That is a point of some doubt. It might be better to do what they often do in England and Germany — to leave the council, the five men, to determine themselves who shall be their leader. Elect a 146 Public Service group and not one man. That group will know that they sink or swim together, which is an enormous advantage from the start. The business of a great city is now too vast and too complex to be managed bj^ one man. It is necessary to divide the city business into several groups of departments with an elected head for each group. That is just what they have done in Galveston, Houston, and Des Aloines, and are now doing in Chelsea, Haverhill, Gloucester. I appeal to the recent experience of Massa- chusetts. The last legislature gave three new charters to Massachusetts cities. The first resembled the Galveston charter — a catastrophe charter — and therefore it pro- vided at the start for the appointment of five men, with provision for the gradual conversion of this appointed board of control into an elected board of control. In Haverhill and Gloucester they have elected commissions, elected at large. These I believe to be the principles toward which the recent experience of American cities guides us. Part of this experience leads to negatives — no ward election, and no one-man power; but most of it is of affirmative natm-e — have one chamber, elect a group of five men, and give universal suffrage everj' possible help in the selection and election of pure, competent, efficient municipal governors. Let me dwell for a moment more on the kind of man that is needed for the conduct of municipal business. We have seen in many cities of our country men elected to mu- nicipal office who have had no valuable experience in the conduct of their own business, or, indeed, in the conduct of any business. Over and over again men have been put in charge of this great and compUcated city business who had never given the slightest evidence that they were competent to administer any large affairs, not to speak of evidence that they were honest men. Everything is going Municipal Government 147 to depend on the kind of men that under better condi- tions universal suffrage will select. What kind of men? Men that have proved their capacity in their own affairs; that have kept a store, or run a machine shop, or been successful lawyers or physicians — men who have done anything among the higher parts of human service with success, efficiency, and honor. That is the only kind of men that will answer for city government in these days. What is the chance that universal suffrage under fair conditions will select competent men? It is difficult to estimate that chance. My opinion is that we ought to find out by experiment whether universal suffrage will select competent men. Election at large is indispensable to that result, and the diminution of the number of persons to be elected is also indispensable. But then there is another risk to be run. Will competent and honest Amer- icans take the job? So many times have I heard expressed an utter skepticism on this point. Granted that universal suffrage would prefer to select competent and honest men, will such men serve? Now, I beUeve they will, and I appeal to educational experience to show that they will. Look at the administrations of the colleges and universities of this country. Look at the administration of innumerable corporations for charitable and educational objects. Look at the service which Massachusetts has had from its state commissions within the last twenty-five years — admirable service, no better ever rendered. Indeed, I should maintain that the effi- cient, honest American citizen had already demonstrated that he would accept an honorable service to which he was chosen by his fellow citizens, given such conditions that he thought he could do some good work for his town or city. That is what the right sort of American wants — he wants to see that he has a chance to be serviceable in an honor- 148 Public Service able way. That is the reason why the reformed school committees all over our country are being so weU manned. The men elected saw a chance to serve their citj* honorably and well; and they took that chance, often abandoning their private business in large measure. Part of that good chance is a reasonably long tenure during which to work; and accordingly the new charters lengthen the tenures of city governors, or in other words, lengthen the period of service cf the indi\-idual ia the city government. There also the experience of educational and charitable corporations is to be relied on. They give a long tenure ; and there is nothing a competent and pubhc- spuited American likes better than that indispensable con- dition of effective service. Accordingly, the new charters unanimously lengthen the terms of service. For instance, everv- member of the school committee at St. Louis serves six j'ears and is eh- gible for reelection. Each member of the Boston school committee serves three years. !Many of the new charters provide for the election of experts to conduct the different departments of city business for a long term. Here we are approaching, though not equaling, German methods in the same field. When Berlin wants a mayor, the council, elected by a very limited suffrage, is empowered to make a contract with a new mayor. They look all over the king- dom for a mayor of some smaller city who has distinguished himself for capacity and power. Then they make with him a twelve years' contract. At the end of that time they are at hberty to reelect him for a similar term if he so chooses, but if he does not, or they do not see fit to reelect him, then he is entitled to a pension for life, ha\ing served twelve years as mayor of Berlin. Now, we have not arrived there yet, but the sooner we get there the better, because that method means that the Municipal Government 149 Germans regard a city mayor as a scientific expert to be hired on the most favorable terms possible, that is, on terms attractive to the best men. We have not as yet reached that sensible view of pubUc administration, though we are on the way to it ; but, for the present, may we not rest in the assm-ance that if the conditions of the pubhc service are made reasonably promising in the eyes of busi- ness men, who are also pubUc spirited, that good men and true will accept municipal service? I rest there com- pletely. I beUeve that will be the result. HEROES OF THE SURF ^ By JOHN R. SPEARS JHIS is a story for a stormy night. For while the reader Ustens to the splash of the sleet and the howl of the gale, the men of the hfe-saving service, — our heroes of the surf, — in a pro- cession that is almost unbroken are patroling the storm- swept beaches from Quoddy Head to Cape Fear, from Oswego to Duluth, and from Peterson's Point to the Golden Gate. And when the storm is most deadly — when the sands are slippery with ice, or clogged with snow — then the life-savers are most alert. In the annals of all the nation there are no stories more full of interest than those of the men whose hfe is given to this work. The story of the organized life-savers begins in 1786, when Noyes, the blind physician of Boston, invited some of his fellow townsmen to the "Bimch of Grapes Tavern," and there induced them to organize the "Humane Society of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts," with the Hon. James Bowdoin as president. This society was distin- guished in various ways. On the desolate beaches of Mas- sachusetts, beginning on Lovell's Island, in 1786, it built small huts in which people who escaped ashore from wrecked ships might find shelter, and in these huts it placed fuel, blankets, and food. It built lifeboats, and placed the first constructed at Cohasset,,in October, 1807. It also gave rewards to every person \^ho especially distinguished himseK in saving human life. This society was composed of people who were the social ' By permission of the Author and " The Outlook." Copyright, 1903. 150 Heroes of the Surf 151 leaders of the Commonwealth and of the nation. Once a year a pubUc meeting was held in some church, and after a sermon, the society, with invited guests, visited the rescue huts on the islands in the harbor to see that the sup- plies were in order. This cruise was the chief social event of the year. The Legislature adjourned to attend it, and the harbor forts fired cannon in honor of the society. Perhaps I may be permitted to observe, aside, that the chief annual social event of modern days in New York is not a meeting of a humane society. The date at which a hfeboat was placed at Cohasset is notable, because it was not until seventeen years later (1824) that "The Royal National Institution for the Preservation of Life from Shipwreck" was organized in England. The people of Massachusetts led the civilized world by seventeen years in the organized work of this kind. I beheve that the Chinese (heathen that they were) had well-organized life-saving stations floating on their rivers some hundreds of years earher, but it is pleasant to think that Americans led all civilized peoples in this matter. It is also pleasant to note that the Massachusetts Society gave medals to the heroes who risked life to save the ship- wrecked — it appealed to and cultivated the love of honor. But, sad to relate, the people of Massachusetts had a mo- nopoly of this kind of work in the United States for thirty years. On the morning of January 2, 1837, the bark "Mexico," loaded with immigrants, drifted ashore on Hempstead beach, Long Island. The courageous people of that re- gion, under the lead of Raynor Rock Smith, launched a fishing-boat, and, pulling through the mush ice that clogged the breakers, rescued seven men and a boy. The remainder of the ship's company, to the number of one 152 Public Service hiindred and fifteen, were driven on deck by the water that filled the hold. When on deck, the spray turned to ice as it fell upon them, and they all perished while gazing at a huge fire that was kindled on shore. No wreck has ever stirred the people as that of the "Mexico" did. A lifeboat, built by popular subscription, was placed on Rockaway beach a few months later. Engravings portraying the scene were on sale from the Atlantic to the Mississippi. The story of the wreck was discussed in Congress ten years after it occurred, and on February 25, 1847, at the iostance of Robert McClelland, of Michigan, an item of five thousand dollars was added to the Lighthouse BUI, in order to furnish "lighthouses on the Atlantic coast with means for rendering assistance to shipwrecked mariners." It is worth remembering, too, that when arguing in favor of the item, McClelland ap- pealed solely to the humanity of his fellow congressmen. The appropriation, he said, "would save annually from fifty to one hundred lives. Was this, bx the gentlemen's view, a matter of no importance?" Congressman William A. Newell, of New Jersey, took up the idea in 1848, and on August 9, 1849, got a bill through Congress by which the sum of ten thousand dollars was appropriated to provide "surf -boats, rockets, carronades, and other necessary apparatus" — such as had been found useful in Massachusetts — for the Jersey beach. A reference to the wreck of the "Mexico" was one of the arguments used to pass the bill. In this way, by providing apparatus for the use of vol- imteer life-savers the National Government began work in the storm surf. Ship merchants and seafaring people became greatly interested. With additional appropria- tions, boats were distributed freely along the coast. But in time the boats were found to be too heavy. Many had Heroes of the Surf 153 been placed where they could not be reached when most needed. Wrecks occurred between lifeboat stations (the "Powhatan" on April 15, and the "New Era" on Novem- ber 13, 1854, for instance), and hundreds of hves were lost. It became apparent, eventually, that the system was Uttle better than worthless; but in the meantime Con- gress had authorized the Treasury Department to em- ploy a keeper for each regular station, on a moderate salary, and the pohticians had found the keepere useful. Consequently the system remained alive, if moribund, rnitU 1871, when it was reorganized. A superintendent (Sumner I. Kimball) was appointed, and in the course of a year crews of trained men were employed vmder salary at several stations. Immediately the alongshore pohticians proceeded to fill the crews with heelers. ]Men who could not handle an oar — cripples and degenerates even — were placed on the roUs; but by 1S76 a nonpartisan and merit -only sys- tem, established by the superintendent, prevailed, and from that time on the United States has employed thor- oughly trained men to save life. With the inauguration of the merit system the heroic deeds of the Ufe-savers began. The annual reports of the service, published as separate volumes, number twenty-six. Bound in coflBn black, and placed on a hbrary sheU, their appeai-ance is forbidding; but one may search the hbraries of the world without finding twenty-six other volumes containing as many hero tales as do these reports of the United States Life-Saving Ser^-ice. Consider the storj- of Surfman Hatch, of the Cleveland crew, at the wreck of the schooner "IMinch," on the night of October 3, 1883. The schooner sank in shoal water oflf Cleveland, and after exhausting labor, lasting nearly all night, all the crew save two were taken from the icy fore 154 Public Service rigging by means of tlie breeches buoy. The two remain- ing men were in the mizzen rigging. It was impossible for the Ufe-savers to go aft along the deck to the mizzen- mast, because the deck was under water and the storm waves were sweeping across it. They could not go aft by means of the stays because there were no stays from the mizzen mast to the main. It was a case so desperate that all of the life-savers except Hatch gave it up in despair and went ashore. But in those desperate conditions Hatch found his op- portunity. Going over the stays to the mainmast, Hatch found that the mainsail had been lowered, and that the main boom was swaying to and fro with the roll of the schooner as each wave passed. He knew that the end of the boom passed close to the mizzen rigging. Working his way out on that boom, in spite of the wind. Hatch rose up as it swayed toward the lee rail, and, leaping into the night, caught the mizzen rigging. And he arrived just in time to save the two sailors there from falling overboard. By lending a hand and by rousing their courage. Hatch sustained the sailors until daylight came, when a line was fired to the mizzen rigging and all were taken ashore in the breeches buoy. When the schooner " H. P. Kirkham " was wrecked on the Rose and Crown shoal, fifteen miles out to sea from the Caskata station, Nantucket, on January 21, 1892, the off- shore gale that was raging was so fierce and the sea so ugly that an ocean-going tug, after steaming some distance out toward the wreck, turned back to port. But the Caskata life-savers launched forth with their surfboat, took off the crew of the "Kirkham," and then, anchoring on the shoal, waited until the tide turned to start for home. It was a midwinter gale. Those who have seen the Nantucket shoals at such a time may be able to imagine the plight of Heroes of the Surf 155 these men in a boat that was now overloaded, but no one else can. Yet, to the surprise of the old whalemen of Nan- tucket, they reached home, and but one life-saver died from the effects of the exposure. Then there was the wreck of the schooner "A. B. Good- man," on the Diamond reef, off Cape Hatteras. Two currents meet off Cape Hatteras, and the broken water on the offshore bars in a whole-sail breeze only is enough to dismay an ordinary seaman; but when a gale rages, the swirhng plunge of the surf is appalhng even to stoutest hearts. As they looked away across those seas at the "Goodman," the life-savers beUeved that death awaited them. One of their number was therefore chosen to re- main on shore, and to him each of the others made his will orally. Then they pulled out to sea, and they saved the crew of the "Goodman " and themselves. One of the most picturesque incidents in the history of the service on the Great Lakes occurred during the famous gale of November 17, 1886. The steamer "Robert Wal- lace" and the huge tow-barge "David Wallace" stranded at night in the breakers six miles east of Marquette, where the waves made a clean breach over them, and each wave left a coatiug of ice as it passed. The next day people of Marquette who braved the storm in order to look at the breakwater and the hghthouse that had been wrecked by the seas during the night saw the stranded vessels through rifts in the storm, and rescuers were soon on their way, with boats and ropes and materials for a fire. These rescuers included some of the bravest and most experienced sailors of the lakes — vessel officers who had passed through wreck experiences themselves. With unsurpassed zeal they strove aU day long to reach the wrecks, but the wind, and the clinging mush ice, and the curling breakers foiled them. Even a powerful tug that 156 Public Service tried to approach from the sea failed, and the crew were left freezing on the crumbling hulks. Finally, toward night, one man. Captain John Frink, remembered that a hfe-saving crew was stationed on the west side of the peninsula that projects into the lake half way to Duluth. The life-savers were six miles from the town of Houghton, but Houghton was connected with Marquette by rail. Seeing that the people in the two wrecks would inevitably perish if left there much longer, Captain Frink went to the raihoad station, wired to Houghton for a messenger to go after the Ufe-saving crew, and then arranged with the railroad officials for a special train to bring the crew and their apparatus to Marquette. It was 7.40 o'clock at night when a tug brought the life- savers through the driving blizzard to the dock at Hough- ton, but a train, with the safety-valve of the engine lifting, was in waiting, and a throng of men stood by to jump the apparatus to the car. In five minutes from the arrival of the tug the conductor leaped aboard the moving train, and it fled away at top speed, literally in a race with death. It was a race one hundred and twenty-five miles long, and the tracks became clogged with snow, but the hfe-savers won. They arrived at Marquette at 11.30 o'clock, and, going to the beach, they drove their boat through the mush ice and reached the wrecks in time. When the schooner "J. O. Moss" stranded four miles north of the Grand Point au Sable station. Lake Michigan, though a fierce gale was blowing, not a breaker, scarce a dash of spray, reached the shore. For the surf was covered and weighed down with mush ice — a vicious liquid, a sul- len gray horror that heaves and rolls and grinds, but never splashes on the beach. To whatever it touches it clings in masses, yet Siuiman Stillson waded shoulder-deep into the searing mass off the Lake Michigan beach that he After the painting bu a. dawant A Rescue at Sea, Heroes of the Surf 157 might save a sailor who had tried to bring a hne ashore from the stranded vessel. He came out clogged with ice, but he saved the sailor. It was not a singular case, however; many surfmen have done the same thing, though not all have escaped with their lives. The first surfmen to lose their lives while striving to rescue a shipwrecked crew with national apparatus were John F. Jones and R. D. Parker, who were drowned at the wreck of the bark "Tasso" on the Jersey beach in 1856. The first to lose their lives in the reorganized ser- vice were the Jones Hill crew on Currituck beach. They were trying to rescue the crew of the bark ^'Nuova Otta- via,", stranded March 1, 1876, and were upset by the sailors who jiunped on them in a mob as soon as the surfboat came to the wreck. All these life-savers (seven in all) were lost. From that time until March 17, 1902, when the crew of the Monomoy station were lost on Handkerchief shoal, the list of the dead who have lost their lives in efforts to save others has grown from year to year. A summary of the statistics for eighteen years shows that "the self- righting boat lost one life to every one hundred and thirty- six saved, the surfboat one to every one hundred and fifty-eight saved." A strenuous life the men of this service live — most strenuous. Scores of vessels are warned away from reefs by the danger signals of the night patrol men every year. Hundreds of people are rescued from stranded vessels every year. One may ask, as did Congressman McClelland, "Is this a matter of no importance?" To that may be added the less important statement that property worth millions is saved from the wrecks with the aid of the life- savers. JOSHUA JAMES, LIFE-SAVERS By SUMNER INCREASE KIMBALL ^N the yeax 1889 Captain James received the gold medal of the Humane Society for the rescue of twenty-nine persons in the great storm of No- vember 25 and 26, 1888, and for the same serv- ice he and ten members of his volunteer crew received also the gold medal awarded by the United States Govern- ment for exceptional daring in saving Ufe from shipwreck. The medal awarded to Captain James bore the following inscription : TO CAPTAIN JOSHUA JAMES FOR HIS HUMANE EXERTIONS IN RESCUING THE LIVES OF TWENTY-NINE PERSONS FROM FOUR VESSELS ON NOV. 25 AND 26, 1888 Considering the disheartening conditions under which most of their successes were achieved, the record made in that memorable storm by Captain James and his brave volunteers in attending upon five wrecked vessels scat- tered over nearly eight miles of beach, and saving the lives of twenty-nine persons, without the loss or serious injury of a single member of his crew or any of the ship- wrecked sailors whom it was within human power to save, is one that has rarely been surpassed. 1 By courteous permission of the Author and the American Unitarian Association. Copyright, 1909. 158 Joshua James, Life-Saver 159 A connected narrative of the occurrences at each suc- cessive scene of disaster — although no- pen can fit- tingly describe them — will convey some idea of the nature of the work the life-savers performed and the hardships they endured on this occasion. The storm embraced in its course the entire Atlantic seaboard and swept up the coast with the suddenness and violence of a tropical hurricane, leaving in its wake a chain of 'v\Tecks from the Carolinas to Maine. It struck Massachusetts Bay on Sunday, the twenty-fifth, un- heralded by the usual storm warnings of the Weather Bureau, and came in the guise of a northeast gale and snowstorm, accompanied by extremely high tides and a tremendous surf. Subsequently it ceased snowing, sleet and rain succeeding. So terrible a storm in November had never before been known in Hull. Early in the day Captain James and a few hardy beachmen, having climbed to the top of Telegraph Hill for observation, saw through the driving snow, before the air became too thick to make them out, several schooners anchored in the offing, which they felt sure must sooner or later yield to the growing fury of the storm and drift ashore in spite of their dragging anchors. He therefore notified his volunteers to be ready for service, and about two o'clock ordered a patrol all along the ocean shore. The patrol had hardly begun when a large three- masted schooner which proved to be the "Cox and Green" was discovered broadside on the beach just north of the Toddy Rocks. The gale was now intense, and with much difficulty the Hunt gun, breeches-buoy ap- paratus, and lifeboat were dragged against it half a mile from the Stony Beach station to the scene of the wreck. In the meantime the vessel had been forced near enough inshore by the heaving surges readily to admit of 160 Public Service the use of the breeches-buoy apparatus, rendering this first task of the life-savers a comparatively easy one. Without delay Captain James proceeded to fire a line aboard, which was soon followed by the whip-hne, hawser, and breeches buoy; and although the process of rescue under the prevailing conditions was necessarily difficult and tedious, the nine men were, one by one, safely landed on the beach, whence they were taken to a nearby cot- tage and ministered to by sympathizing hands. It had now become quite dark, but another three- masted schooner, the "Gertrude Abbott," could be dimly discerned upon the rocks an eighth of a mile far- ther up the beach, and to this point Captain James and his men laboriously transferred their boat and apparatus. This wreck gave them a far more serious problem to deal with. A brief survey of the situation showed that the vessel lay too far from shore for the use of the breeches- buoy apparatus, and that to attempt a rescue with the lifeboat under the actual appalling conditions of wind and sea was an undertaking which, to all appearances, invited certain death. Captain James warned his crew that the chances were they would never return from an attempt to save the shipwrecked men, but asked who were willing to go with him and make the effort. Without a moment's hesitation every man offered himself, and they ran the boat into the water and started for the wreck. In the meantime the people, by tearing down fences, had gath- ered material for a great bonfire on Souther's Hill, which lighted up the scene in spite of the storm, greatly assisting the boat's crew in their desperate struggle, and carrying renewed hope to the despairing fellows on board the wreck. The boat was repeatedly filled as the huge waves swept over it, disputing every inch of the way Joshua James, Life-Saver 161 and often forcing it back into imminent peril of being dashed to pieces on the rocks. Two men were con- stantly occupied in bailing. At length the powerful strokes of the crew brought the boat under the schooner's bow, a line was thrown aboard and made fast by the sailors, and as the boat rose high on the crest of a wave one of them dropped into the out- stretched arms below. This was repeated until all of the eight men were successively taken into the boat. But the hardest part of the struggle was still before them, and the danger of which Captain James had warned his men now became terribly apparent. To reach the shore with their heavy load through the riot of waters raging between was a task which called not only for all their strength and endurance but also the utmost skill and self-possession. As they approached the shore the crowd which had gathered there expected momentarily to see the frail craft tossed upon the rocks and crushed like an eggshell. The men, however, stuck desperately to their posts, and watched for a chance to make a land- ing, although repeatedly drenched by the overwhelming seas. When within two hundred yards of the beach the boat struck a submerged bowlder, filled and rolled one side under water. The occupants quickly shifted to the other side, which righted the boat, but one man had been thrown overboard, whom, fortunately, his comrades caught and hauled in before the sea could sweep him beyond reach. Captain James admonished the men to stick to the boat as long as possible. It struck the rocks a number of times, the crew just managing to keep it headed for the shore with the few oars that were left, so that the sea might heave it in. Finally, a monster wave lifted it high in the air and dashed it upon the rocks, completely 162 Public Service wrecked. By fortunate chance, however, all the nu>n got ashore, half wading anil luilf drugged by the e;>ger hands of the spectators who rushed into the surf as far as pos- sible to assist them. It was nine o'clock when the last man was safe on shore. Captain James and his iiu-n at once resumed the patrol of the beach, which they inintinucd throughout the bitter night, unmindful of the (enii)est, raging aboid. them. Often they had to wade dvvp gullies, with difficulty avoid- ing the wreckage that was thrashing about in the surf, and now and again they had to nm for (Ju-ir lives to escape an excejitionally high sea that chased them up the beach and threateninl to engulf them. About three o'l^lock in the morning they discoveriHl the third three-masted schooner, Ihe "Bertha F. Walker," ashore about half a mile northwest of the "Abbott." She, also, was beyond the range of the short line, and they now had to go all the way to the Strawberry Hill station, four miles distant, for a boat to replace the one wrecked the night before. Tliis was a nvw boat., recently built from a design by ('ajitain James's l)i'ot.her Samuel, which had not as yet been tested in actual wreck work. It was a cruel trick of fate to thus add t,o ihv. jx'rils of such a storm the anxiety naturally felt about the possilile I)ehavior of an unfamiliar boat.; for it is almost, an axiom upon the coast that surfmen will luidertake and su(H;ess- fully accomphsh a difficult enteiprise in a boat of a model with which they are thoroughly ac(iuaint(>d, when they would utterly fail in a strangle craft., though the latter might be much the better boat. With the help of horses and many willing hands, the boat was at length brought to the s(H>ne of the wreck, quickly manned by the tiriUess crew, and after a hard struggle with mountainous seas, in which the boat Joshua James, Life-Saver 163 proved itself entirely satisfactory, the seven surviving sailors were taken safely ashore. The captain and mate of this vessel had been drowned during the night, when the crew were forced to abandon their shelter under the forecastle deck and take to the rigging. They had re- mained behind to see all the others safely aloft, and before they could join them, were washed overboard by a huge sea and never seen again. Before the rescue of the "Walker's" crew was com- pleted, a messenger on horseback arrived from Atlantic Hill, more than five niiles away, with news of two more wrecks at that point. The Hull men had had no break- fast, some had had httle supper the night before, and most had been on the beach all night. But they did not falter. As soon as their work at the "Walker" was done they started with their boat for this new scene of dis- aster. Captain Anderson of the Humane Society's sta- tion at Crescent Beach and Captain Brown of the Government life-saving station at North Scituate had also been notified. Captain Anderson reached the point first with his Hunt gun and apparatus, and turned his attention to the lower of the two wrecks, the schooner "H. C. Higginson," which lay sunk, decks under, between two ledges, with five men clinging to the rigging. After he had fired several lines which, unfortunately, parted and failed to reach the vessel. Captain Brown and his crew arrived, having pulled their Lyle gun and apparatus through mud and slush a distance of nearly nine miles, and immediately fired a line which fell across the flying jibstay. Almost simultaneously Captain Anderson suc- ceeded in getting a line aboard, and as this fell closer to the men in the fore rigging, they got hold of it, paying no further hefed to the other line. The poor fellows sue- 164 Public Service ceeded in pulling the whip and hawser aboard and mak- ing them fast at the masthead. The outlook was now very hopeful, and the breeches buoy was about to be sent out, when a most unfortunate accident occurred. The lines, tossed about by the waves, in some way fouled with some floating wreckage and, despite the utmost efforts of the life-saving men, could not be freed, thus rendering their further use impossible. The life-savers and others on shore w;ere in despair, and thought they would have to see the poor sailors go down to death before their eyes. At this juncture Cap- tain James and his men arrived with their boat, and as nothing further could be done with the breeches-buoy apparatus, they at once launched, selecting a place slightly sheltered by a projecting point, and started on their third trip into the very jaws of death. The sea had gained in fury, if such a thing were possi- ble, the immense ridges of foam-crested surf bristling be- fore them and advancing rank upon rank like a phalanx to meet them, seemed unconquerable, and there was scarcely a hope that they would be able to reach the wreck, if indeed they themselves escaped alive. The skillful maneuvering of Captain James at the steering oar and the unsurpassed surfmanship and coolness of his crew, however, carried them safely through the surf, but they fought in vain against the heavy seas beyond to round the rocky point, and after a struggle of three- quarters of an hour they had to give it up, and were washed ashore, with two holos stove in their new boat. Patching the boat as well as possiljle, they dragged it to another place and launched again. Only after a long and desperate battle with the surf, during which they were in the direst peril, they reached the vessel. The sailors had now been in the tops fourteen hours, and ■n m m o > Joshua James, Life-Saver 165 in their exhausted and benumbed condition could do little to help themselves. Great care had to be exer- cised to prevent the boat from being dashed against the vessel and crushed. Four men in the foretop and one in the mizzen were all that were alive on board. The body of the steward, who had perished from exposure during the night, was lashed to the fore-topmast. The boat could come up only under the vessel's stern, and four of the men were at the other end. The man in the mizzentop cautiously descended the shrouds until he reached a position where he could catch a line thrown to him, which he tied about his waist, and, at the word of command, jumped into the sea and was quickly hauled into the lifeboat. "Now for the men in the foretop!" was the cry, and the crew strained every muscle to the utmost in re- peated attempts to force the boat as far forward as the foremast. But their most strenuous efforts could bring it no farther than abreast the mainmast. It was there- fore necessary for the sailors to get across the inter- vening distance. There were but two ways that this could be done. One was to come across hand over hand on the spring stay, a distance of twenty feet, and this was hopeless in their exhausted condition. The other, hardly better, was to shde down the hawser which had been sent aboard and made fast in the attempt to set up the breeches-buoy apparatus, and which was now trailing toward the mainmast, and gain a footing in the main rigging if possible. Quickly they chose the latter course, and one of them commenced the perilous descent, taking the desperate chance for hfe. It appeared every moment as if the swaying form would lose its hold and be swept away by the hxmgry waves which seemed to be leaping and 166 Public Service stretching upward to seize him and plunge him into the sea below. Slowly he came down, but surely, and at last caught the main rigging. Here a rope was thrown to him, and, tying it about his body, he jumped over- board and was hauled into the boat. In like manner, fortunately without mishap, the three remaining men, to whom, as in the case of their shipmate, the crisis seemed to lend superhuman strength, made their way down and were taken off. When the last man was safe in the boat a mighty shout went up from those on shore, and still a mightier and more victorious one when, after a long and desper- ate struggle, requiring the most skillful maneuvering to prevent a capsize in the surf, the boat came within reach of the eager hands stretched out to drag ashore the shipwrecked seamen and their heroic rescuers. Car- riages were at hand to take the poor sailors, all but dead from their terrible experience, to the homes in the vicin- ity, which were freely thrown open to them, and a phy- sician among the spectators rendered medical assistance. The body of the steward was left bound to the top- mast, presenting, as it swayed back and forth through the air with every undulation of the sea, a ghastly spec- tacle to the people who came to the shore in great num- bers to view the desolation wrought by the storm. Not until late the next day was it found possible to re- move it. The other wreck at this point was the schooner "Mattie E. Eaton," which the sea had forced almost high and dry upon the beach, so that the crew had got ashore themselves at low tide, and as no assistance was required, the Hull men now took advantage of the oppor- tunity to partake of much-needed refreshments. Then, having rested awhile, they made preparations to returt Joshua James, Life-Saver 167 to their homes. By this time the storm had somewhat abated. When about halfway they came upon the abandoned brigantine "Alice," which had parted her moorings at Gloucester and been driven across the Bay, and after a line had been fired over her by Captain Brown and no one appeared to take it, Captain James and his men went aboard and found her deserted. Two men who soon after boarded her in a dory were left on boai-d by their boat breaking away, and the life-savers went back and took them off. WTien their work was done. Captain James and his men had to show as trophies of their valor twenty-niae human lives, all the rescued being in a more or less piti- ful pUght from their terrible experience, it is true — but saved! THE CONSERVATION OF NATURAL RESOURCES 1 By GIFFORD PINCHOT HE most prosperous nation of to-day is the United States. Our unexampled wealth and well-being are directly due to the superb latural resources of our country, and to the use which has been made of them by our citizens, both in the present and in the past. We are prosperous because our forefathers bequeathed to us a land of mar- velous resources still unexhausted. Shall we conserve those resources, and in our turn transmit them, still unexhausted, to our descendants? Unless we do, those who come after us will have to pay the price of misery, degradation, and failure for the progress and prosperity of our day. When the natural resources of any nation become exhausted, disaster and decay in every department of national life follow as a matter of course. Therefore the conservation of natural resources is the basis, and the only permanent basis, of national success. There are other conditions, but this one lies at the foundation. Perhaps the most striking characteristic of the Amer- ican people is their superb practical optimism; that marvelous hopefulness which keeps the individual effi- ciently at work. This hopefulness of the American is, however, as shortsighted as it is intense. As a rule, it does not look ahead beyond the next decade or score of years, and fails wholly to reckon with the real future ' By permission of the Author and " The Outlook." Copyright, 1909. 168 The Conservation of Natural Resources 169 of the nation. I do not think I have ever heard a fore- cast of the growth of our population that extended beyond a total of two hundred milUons, and that only as a distant and shadowy goal. The point of view which this fact illustrates is neither true nor farsighted. We shall reach a population of two hxmdred milUons in the very near futme, as time is counted in the Uves of nations, and there is nothing more certain than that this country of ours will some day support double, or triple, or five times that number of prosperous people if only we can bring ourselves so to handle our natural resources in the present as not to lay an embargo on the prosperous growth of the future. We, the American people, have come into the possession of nearly four mil- Uon square miles of the richest portion of the earth. It is owes to use and conserve for om-selves and our descend- ants, or to destroy. The ftmdamental question which confronts us is. What shall we do with it? That question can not be answered -nithout first con- sidering the condition of our natural resources and what is being done with them to-day. As a people, we have been in the habit of declaring certain of our resources to be inexhaustible. To no other resource more fre- quently than coal has this stupidly false adjective been applied. Yet om* coal . suppHes are so far from being inexhaustible that if the increasing rate of consumption shown by the figm-es of the last seventy-five years con- tinues to prevail (and there is every reason to beHeve that it win grow rather than lessen), our supphes of anthracite coal will last but fiftj' yeai-s and of bitumi- nous coal but Httle over one hundred years. From the point of ■view of national life, this means the exhaustion of one of the most important factors in our ci^dhzation within the immediate futm-e. Not a few 170 Public Service coal fields have already been exhausted, as in portions of Iowa and Missouri. Yet, in the face of these known facts, we continue to treat our coal as if there could never be an end of it. The established coal-mining practice at the present date does not take out more than one-half the coal, leaving the less easily mined or lower-grade material to be made permanently inaccessible by the caving in of the abandoned workings. The loss to the nation from this form of waste is prodigious and inexcusable. The waste in use is not less appalling. But five per cent of the potential power residing in the coal actually mined is saved and used. For example, only about five per cent of the power of the one hundred and fifty million tons annually burned on the railways of the^United States is actually used in traction; ninety-five per cent is expended unproductively or is lost. In the best incan- descent electric lighting plants but one-fifth of one per cent of the potential value of the coal is converted into light. Many oil and gas fields, as in Pennsylvania, West Virginia, and the MissisKippi Valley, have already failed, yet vast amounts of gas continue to be poured into the air and great quantities of oil into the streams. Cases are known in which vast amounts of oil are systematically burned in order to be rid of it. The prodigal squandering of our mineral fuels pro- ceeds unchecked in face of the fact that such resources as these, once used or wasted, can never be replaced. If waste like this were not chiefly thoughtless, it might well be characterized as the deliberate destruction of the nation's future. Many fields of iron ore have already been exhausted, and in still more, as in the coal mines, only the higher The Conservation of Natural Resources 171 grades have been taken from the mines, leaving the least valuable beds to be exploited at increased cost or not at all. Similar waste in the case of other minerals is less serious only because they are less indispensable to our civilization than coal and iron. Mention should be made of the annual loss of millions of dollars' worth of by-products from coke, blast, and other furnaces, now thrown into the air, often not merely without benefit but to the serious injury of the community. In other countries these by-products are saved and used. We are in the habit of speaking of the solid earth and the eternal hills as if they, at least, were free from the vicissitudes of time and certain to furnish perpetual support for prosperous human life. This conclusion is as false as the term "inexhaustible" applied to other natural resources. The waste of soil is among the most dangerous of all wastes now in progress in the United States. In 1896 Professor Shaler, than whom no one has spoken with greater authority on this subject, estimated that in the upland regions of the states south of Pennsylvania three thousand square miles of soil had been destroyed as the result of forest denudation, and that the destruc- tion was then proceeding at the rate of one hundred square miles of fertile soil per year. No seeing man can travel through the United States without being struck with the enormous and unnecessary loss of fertility by easily preventable soil wash. The soil so lost, as in the case of many other wastes, becomes itself a source of damage and expense, and must be removed from the channels of our navigable streams at an enormous annual cost. The Mississippi River alone is estimated to trans- port yearly four hundred million tons of sediment, or about twice the amount of material to be excavated 172 Public Service from the Panama Canal. This material is the most fertile portion of our richest fields, transformed from a blessing to a curse by unrestricted erosion. The destruction of forage plants by overgrazing has resulted, in the opinion of men most capable of judging, in reducing the grazing value of the pubUc lands by one- half. This enormous loss of forage, serious though it be in itself, is not the only result of wrong methods of pasturage. The destruction of forage plants is accom- panied by loss of surface soil through erosion; by forest destruction; by corresponding deterioration in the water supply; and by a serious decrease in the quality and weight of animals grown on overgrazed lands. These soiuces of loss from failm-e to conserve the range are felt to-day. They are accompanied by the certainty of a futiu-e loss not less important, for range lands once badly overgrazed can be restored to their former value but slowly or not at all. The obvious and certain remedy is for the Government to hold and control the public range until it can pass into the hands of settlers who will make their homes upon it. As methods of agriculture improve and new dry-land crops are introduced, vast areas once considered unavailable for cultivation are being made into prosperous homes, and this movement has only begun. The single object of the public land system of the United States, as President Roosevelt has repeatedly declared, is the making and maintenance of prosperous homes. That object can not be achieved unless such of the public lands as are suitable for settlement are con- served for the actual homemaker. Such lands should pass from the possession of the Government directly, and only into the hands of the settler who Hves on the land. Of all forms of conservation there is none more important > < The Conservation of Natural Resources 173 than that of holding the pubUc lands for the actual home- maker. It is a notorious fact that the pubhc land laws have been deflected from their beneficent original purpose of homemaking by lax administration, shortsighted de- partmental decisions, and the growth of an unhealthy pubhc sentiment in portions of the West. Great areas of the pubhc domain have passed into the hands, not of the homemaker, but of large individual owners whose object is always the making of profit and seldom the making of homes. It is sometimes urged that enhghtened self-interest will lead the men who have acquired large holdings of pubhc lands to put them to their most productive use, and it is said with truth that this best use is the tillage of small areas by small owners. Unfortunatelj', the facts and this theory disagree. Even the most cm^ory examination of large holdings throughout the West vnR refute the contention that the inteUigent self-interest of large owners results promptly and directlj- in the making of homes. Few passions of the human mind ai'e stronger than land hunger, and the large holder clings to his land until circumstances make it actually impossible for Viim to hold it anj- longer. Large holdings result in sheep or cattle ranges, in huge ranches, in great areas held for speculative rise in price, and not in homes. Unless the American homestead sys- tem of small freeholders is to be replaced by a foreign sj'stem of tenantrj', there are few things of more impor- tance to the West than to see to it that the pubhc lands pass directly into the hands of the actual settler instead of into the hands of the man who, if he can, will force the settler to pay him the uneai-ned profit of the land speculator, or wiU hold him in economic and pohtical 174 Public Service dependence as a tenant. If we are to have homes on the pubUc lands, they must be conserved for the men who make homes. The lowest estimate reached by the Forest Service of the timber now standing in the United States is one thousand four hundred biUion feet, board measure; the highest, two thousand bilhon. The present annual consumption is approximately one hundred bilhon feet, while the annual growth is but a third of the consumption, or from thirty to forty biUion feet. If we accept the larger estimate of the standing timber, two thousand bilhon feet, and the larger estimate of the annual growth, forty bilhon feet, and apply the present rate of consiunp- tion, the result shows a probable duration of our supplies of timber of not more than thirty-three years. Estimates of this kind are almost inevitably mislead- ing. For example, it is certain that the rate of consump- tion of timber will increase enormously in the future, as it has in the past, as long as supplies remain to draw upon. Exact knowledge of many other factors is needed before closely accurate results can be obtained. The figures cited are, however, sufficiently reliable to make it certain that the United States has already crossed the verge of a timber famine so severe that its blighting effects will be felt in every household in the land. The rise in the price of lumber which marks the open- ing of the present century is the beginning of a vastly greater and more rapid rise which is to come. We must necessarily begin to suffer from the scarcity of timber long before our supplies are completely exhausted. It is well to remember that there is no foreign source from which we can draw cheap and abundant supplies of timber to meet a demand per capita so large as to be without parallel in the world, and that the suffering The Conservation of Natural Resources 175 which will result from the progressive failure of our timber was but faintly foreshadowed by the recent temporary scarcity of coal. What will happen when the forests fail? In the first place, the business of lumbering will disappear. It is now the fourth greatest industry in the United States. All forms of building industries will suffer with it, and the occupants of houses, offices, and stores must pay the added cost. Mining will become vastly more expensive; and with the rise in the cost of mining there must foUow a corre- sponding rise in the price of coaJ, iron, and other minerals. The railwaj's, which have as yet failed entirely to develop a satisfactory substitute for the wooden tie (and must, in the opinion of their best engineers, con- tinue to fail), will be profoimdly affected, and the cost of transportation will suffer a corresponding increase. Water power for hghting, manufacturing, and trans- portation, and the movement of freight and passengers by inland waterways, wUl be affected still more directly than the steam railways. The cultivation of the soil, with or without irrigation, will be hampered by the increased cost of agricultural tools, fencing, and the wood needed for other purposes about a farm. Irrigated agriculture will suffer most of all, for the destruction of the forests means the loss of the waters as surely as night follows day. With the rise in the cost of producing food, the cost of food itself will rise. Com- merce in general wiU necessarily be affected by the diffi- culties of the primary industries upon which it depends. In a word, when the forests fail, the daily life of the average citizen will inevitably feel the pinch on every side. And the forests have abeady begun to fail, as the 176 Public Service direct result of the suicidal policy of forest destruction which the people of the United States have allowed them- selves to pursue. It is true that about twenty per cent of the less valu- able timber land in the United States remains in the pos- session of the people in the National Forests, and that it is being cared for and conserved to supply the needs of the present and to mitigate the suffering of the near future. But it needs no argument to prove that this comparatively small area will be insufficient to meet the demand which is now exhausting an area four times as great, or to prevent the suffering I have described. Meas- ures of greater vigor are imperatively required. The conception that water is, on the whole, the most important natural resource has gained firm hold in the irrigated West, and is making rapid progress in the humid East. Water, not land, is the primary value in this Western country, and its conservation and use to irrigate land is the first condition of prosperity. The use of our streams for irrigation and for domestic and manufactiuing uses is comparatively well developed. Their use for power is less developed, while their use for transportation has only begun. The conservation of the inland waterways of the United States for these great purposes constitutes, perhaps, the greatest single task which now confronts the nation. The maintenance and increase of agriculture, the supply of clear water for domestic and manufactiu-ing use, the development of electrical power, transportation, and lighting, and the creation of a system of inland trans- portation by water whereby to regulate freight rates by rail and to move the bulkier commodities cheaply from place to place, is a task upon whose successful accomplish- ment the future of the nation depends in a pecuUar degree. The Conservation of Natural Resources 177 This is the problem to which the Inland Waterways Commission, recently appointed by President Roosevelt, has begun to address itself. We are accustomed, and rightly accustomed, to take pride ui the vigorous and healthful growth of the United States, and iu its vast promise for the futm-e. Yet we are making no preparation to realize what we so easily and gUbly foresee and predict. The vast possibihties .of our great futiu"e will become realities only if we make ourselves, ia a sense, responsible for that futvu-e. The planned and orderlj' development and conservation of our natural resources is the first duty of the United States. It is the onty form of insurance certain to protect us against disasters that lack of foresight has repeatedly brought down on nations since passed away. OPPORTUNITIES IN THE FEDERAL CIVIL SERVICE^ By el BIE K. FOLTZ HE adoption of a career is a matter of the ut- most importance to every yoimg man. The he is master of a vocation; the nation takes an interest in him as one who shall add to the common wealth. The ambition to take part in the strife is a com- mendable one ; it represents manhood and that something in our nature which is commonly termed "doing things." Sometimes we wonder where everybody will find employ- ment. Our shops are making journeymen out of their army of apprentices, the commercial, colleges send out thousands trained in the theory of business, and the uni- versities pour forth other thousands fitted for professional careers. But we need them all — the mechanic, the trades- man, the professional man, and the farmer. Our country is a lusty rich giant; and as long as the nation multiplies in number and increases in thrift, that long will every man find his level of usefulness. Families must be pro- vided for, and that means labor — physical or mental labor means a career. Men could not all choose the same occupation, though conditions demanded it, for we are differently constituted. Whatever occupation a man takes up as his life work it is his duty to be a master of it. However himible, however high, the- master is the one who reaps the best in his fifeld ' From " The Federal CSvil Service as a Career." By permission G. P. Putnam's Sons. Copyright, 1909. 178 Federal Civil Service 179 of action. And to become a master in any career it is necessary to have a love for the work. The European system of training the son to the father's trade is all right for Europe. We may come to that some day; but at present the spirit of our nation teaches inde- pendence of thought and of action. American young men are not taught to revere their fathers' callings; they are taught to think for themselves and to work out their own destinies. The right kind of fathers and mothers are pretty much the same the world over, but the American father in particular is hardly satisfied unless his son attains a higher success than himself. If this success lie in the same work, it is well; if the sons adopt a different career and build successfully, it is a matter for congratulation. Indeed, there is a growing disposition in our democratic land to encourage sons to eschew the career of the father. It is common to find as many occupations in an American family as there are sons. The business man, for example, advises his sons to take up professional hfe, the mechanic wants his boys to be business men and make money, the farmer would hke his sons to become physicians or lawyers or anything but farmers, the lawyer coimsels his sons to become masters of the engineering professions, and so on through the long Ust of occupations. Yet there is one field of activity, embracing hundreds of thousands, broad in scope, high in ideals, and honorable in duties, that is seldom thought of as presenting opportuni- ties for a career. Who ever heard of a father counseUng his son to adopt Government service as a career? Some- times the sordid attraction of pohtics appeals to the fam- ily's head; but he looks at the Government through the ej'es of the gamester, and when it comes to the question of adopting pubhc service as a career the idea becomes a re- mote one. It is well enough to play at politics or to spend 180 Public Service a few years in Federal employ, thinks he; but, outside the officers of the army and navy, no branch of the Federal service occupies his serious attention as presenting oppor- tunities for a son's career. As a matter of fact, the United States civil service does offer splendid chances for careers. Compared with the careers open to the average young man in other fields of endeavor, the Government offers more in the amenities that make up life than may be found elsewhere — not money reward, which, it is repeated, is not a proper gauge of successful life, but in usefulness, honor, and good living. It is a noble ambition to serve the state and a choice priv- ilege to help execute the policies of a great political party. Our civil service to-day offers to young men a wide field of opportunity where their individual tastes may be de- veloped and where they may take up congenial work and develop it according to their ambition. They are assured permanent tenure, which is more than is offered in private hfe. Whatever may be said for or against hfe tenure of office, the uneasiness attendant upon imcertain tenure of position is removed and with it one of the most unpleasant features of the average man's life. It is not comforting to know that your income and hopes depend upon the favor of one man, which is the case with employment in private life. Not only is tenure of office and income secure under the Government during good behavior, but the services per- formed are surrounded with a dignity not seen in private Hfe. The Government employee has the added advantages of earning a comfortable hving, congenial work, short hours, long vacation, ample provision against sickness, a chance to educate himself and his family, and, most im- portant of all, time to hve. The worries and haste to suc- ceed, common in commercial hfe, are entirely absent. Federal Civil Service 181 The struggle for success is strenuous. Business, which is almost synonymous with American life, has altogether too conspicuous a place in our national existence; it has come to be a god with us. There are thousands of young men in our factories and offices struggling along on less than a living wage, hoping against hope, who are fitted for better things. They have missed their calling. Of course some are peculiarly suited to busiaess life or the mechanical trades; these should adopt such vocations. There is no good reason, however, why young men should not look to the Government as offering careers, instead of to the ever swelhng tide of commerciaUsm, where the com- petition is already keen and growing keener every year. The first thing to do, for those who contemplate Gov- ernment service as a career, is to look over the field and get a general idea of the ramifications of our Government. Pubhcations deahng with the principles of our Govern- ment, its organization, administration, and methods of conducting its affairs, should be studied — not academi- cally, but with a view of gaining a practical grasp of the field. The independence and interdependence Pf the three great branches, — legislative, executive, and judicial, • — the extent of each branch, its organization, its duties, division of work, relation to the country at large, and the particular kind of work performed. Such general infor- mation can be gained before entering the pubUc service. After having secured a grasp on the situation, the most important thing to consider is that of adopting con- genial work. Success in Government work can not be anticipated if one's duties prove disagreeable, any more than it can in private life. While an applicant may pass an examina- tion with a remarkably high rating, it is manifestly impos- sible for appointing officers to judge his special ability for 182 Public Service work. It sometimes happens that a brilhantly educated person displays wonderful lack of application when it comes to actual work. This may be due to his own lazi- ness, or it may be due to the nature of the work assigned him upon appointment, which may be wholly distasteful. For example, a young active man who has been used to confidential relations with his employers would not be satisfied with the position of files clerk, where his duties consist of filing correspondence or indexing letter books day after day. Such a change would be extremely dis- agreeable and disappointing, not to say discouraging. Such a change, coming at a time of life when ambition is at its height, wrecks the career of men and causes them to become morose, despondent, and despairing, gradually giving up one hope after another until they have degenerated into the type of clerk sneered at by the newspapers. One must like his work if he would expect success. While occasional unpleasant duties are bound to arise in any occupation, it is important, in adopting public ser- vice as a career, to select some branch where the work is the most interesting and the best suited to individual taste. The young man whose likes run to engineering should get into one of the engineering corps under the civil service; the one with a taste for business should enter the adminis- trative offices; the lawyer should seek appointment where his duties will be of a legal nature ; the skilled mechanic should take up duties for which he is best suited ; and so on down the list of specialties. It is necessary to call atten- tion to this, for there are many now in the Federal service who occupy places the duties of which are distasteful and entirely unsuitable, for the sole reason that the monetary inducements appear better. It is a mistake for a person desiring to make Govern- Federal Civil Service 183 ment service his life work to accept uncongenial work for the purpose of seeming a larger salaiy. The practice puts him at odds with the service; he soon comes to look at his work through the eyes of the tradesman and deprecates all effort that can not be counted in dollars and cents. This does not mean that one should not seek to improve his financial status; but his efforts to reach the highest salai'ied positions should be confined to his chosen field and he should never engage in a struggle for salarj- to the detriment of his life work. TMien a man commerciaHzes his post it is time for him to resign and take up business pursuits. Having selected a line of work that promises to be in- teresting and congenial, every effort should be made to excel and to wi'ite a name in good results. The work chosen should have a future. To work to no pm-pose is to become a machine. When there is a prospect of rising, a powerful incentive to good work is always present. Sometimes a Une of work may appear to the unobser\Tng to have no futm-e, whereas the man of keen perceptions may see wonderful possibihties for development. The fact that a branch of the Federal service is small is no in- dication of a barren futirre; the Department of Agriculture is a conspicuous example of expansion. An enthusiastic and thoroughly prepared worker maj' sometimes develop results that take the country by storm. The emoluments of many posts under the ciyH sendee are insufficient to prove attractive to the majority of those best equipped to fill them. This is particularly true of the higher administrative and scientific positions. The Government at present needs men of broad ideas and hb- eral education, possessed of a private income sufficiently large to enable them to five independently of their salary, who are willing to devote their time to the deA^elopment of 184 Public Service Government work. There are some men of this kind now in the Federal service, but their nimiber is too small. Sons of rich men, seeking careers, have splendid chances for developing great usefulness in official Hfe. There is a large number of well-to-do Americans who hold aloof from politics and governmental office, o^\ing to a reluctance in taking time from their private pursuits. This nmnber includes financiers, lawyers, men of exten- sive landed and commercial interests, scientists, and econo- mists. Many of these are men of unfeigned pubUc spirit but private practicabiUty. The lack of men of this type in public office is due, perhaps, to the conditions of pres- ent American life; we are overenergetic and overanxious to accumulate property. There is every reason, however, to believe that the future will see more rich men in our Federal offices. The civil service offers httle to the employee in the way of individuaUsm. There is so much interdependence that the individual is largely lost — much more so than in com- mercial occupations. The individual sphere of influence is usually confined within narrow hmits. In some offices there is practically no opportunity to show what a man can do; his duties are laid out for him to the minutest detail, and he is expected to carry them out to the letter; he can exercise no discretion, and he is the merest cog in the wheel. Lack of individualism is a distinct drawback in many of the large offices, as it tends to smother ambition, especially the ambition that demands hurried reahzation. The de- tails of the work laid out in those large offices, however, must be performed with unfaiUng accuracy. It can be well understood that where there are a thousand clerks engaged upon one kind of work it is impossible for the ad- ministrative head to single out any one of them as being Federal Civil Service 185 more proficient than the others; he must depend upon the efficiency record as kept by the foremen and section chiefs, a system that is not conducive to individuahsm. There is considerable opportunity to demonstrate per- sonal capacity in the smaller oflaces, as in such ofiices the executive head is brought into closer touch with his sub- ordinates, a condition favorable for observing individuals and their work. On the whole, there is more individuahsm ta scientific work than elsewhere. The nature of scientific investiga- tion calls for personal capacity and the attention of supe- riors, and the public is drawn to the man who does the work in a much more direct manner than is the case in clerical or mechanical positions. The lower the grade of work performed the less indi- viduahsm exists, and vice versa. The senior clerkships, chiefships, foremanships, and similar grades offer some opportunities for uidiAddual exploitation. Speciahsts have ample chances to build up personal reputation. In fact, so secure a place does the speciahst occupy in the Govern- ment that attention is directed to his work ia much gi-eater measure than to that of the average man. Young men adopting Government service as a career should keep up with the day's thought. It matters not whether the nation's thoughts directly concern the pubKc work or not, the bright man wiU keep himseK informed on what the country is doing. He will take a real Uve interest in the economic, industrial, and poHtical conditions of this country; its people, their trials and hopes, their strug- gles and their successes, will appeal to him; advances in invention, education, and commerce will receive a share of his attention. He must keep in touch with progress, else he will become a clod and lose ambition; and the moment ambition is lost, his career is gone. There can be no career 186 Public Service without a dogged, persistent purpose to make every day his own. The Government is the mill in which history is made. Events are transpiring that concern, not our country only, but the world. It is a privilege to be placed where a good view can be had of the nation's progress. The successful officeholder will take a special interest in the deliberations of the Congress, the expansion of our territory, the edu- cation of our island peoples, the unification of national thought, and our growth in the great family of nations. He will be a subscriber to half a dozen of the leading maga- zines devoted to as many different phases of national and world thought, and will have a library of standard litera- ture supplemented by works bearing upon his specialty. The aspirant for a career under the Government will not only take a live interest in the events of the country at large, but he will look well to the work and poHcies of his department and the particular office Ln which he is occupied. One of the most important things for him to know and one of the first to learn is Government practice and procedure. Examples are not wanting where officials- well up show a remarkable, not to say amazing, ignorance of the simplest forms of procedure. This can not lead to success. The man who expects to evolve a successful career under the civil service must know what he is about and must act intelligently, not bfindly and machinelike. The machine-acting employee is a pitiable creature; he invites criticism and caustic remarks. As in the case of business, a hobby should be adopted by every officeholder; no one has a better chance to ride a hobby then he, for he has the time to devote to it. A good hobby acts as a lubricant and serves to keep the in- dividual bright. There are scores of harmless hobbies, such as various forms of collecting, branches of sport, the Federal Civil Service 187 pursuit of educational subjects, authorship, music, art, travel, and philanthropy. Anj-thing that will contribute toward keeping one's thoughts clear and the spirit young is of value. Resting on the oars has bhghted and damned more ca- reers in the Government service than any other one cause. Incompetency may be corrected, ignorance overcome, and judgment improved by earnest attention; but laziness is a weight that drags down progress with fatal certainty. The world has no use for the tired man; the business man hates him, society shuns him, and his fellows regard him with scorn. The lazy man, the one who secures a position under the Government to escape work, not many j^ears ago brought obloquy upon the "Government clerk" by boasting of his "snap." It is no longer fashionable to be idle in Government offices, thanks to strenuous executive officers; it is hoped that this \'igorous poHcy wiU continue tiU aU the drones are driven out of the departments. The influence of lazy employees is evil in the extreme, and aU men who hope to enjoy an honorable and successful career in the United States civil service are cautioned to avoid this class of persons. "Be loyal" is a piece of advice worth following. A goodly number of pubhc employees entertain an unreason- able dislike for superiors to the same extent that prevails in private employment. A certain class of persons feel it their duty to deride aU effort on the part of those in au- thoritj'. "Why they do this is a question in psychology. A spirit of discontent and disloyalty certainly can not produce good results. Pubhc criticism of superiors is not tolerated and is a cause for summary dismissal. This is the nearest approach to lese-majeste in this country. Honest discus- sion of men and methods is proper, as long as the discus- 188 Public Service sion does not smack of disloyalty. There is no doubt that caustic criticism of Government officials is sometimes well merited, but it ill becomes the civil-service employee to indulge in this practice not-withstanding his personal feeUngs. He should constantly bear iu mind that he is working for the United States and not for an individual; also, that he himseK is quite as likely to make mistakes as his superior. The successful and progressive employee wiU make it a point to please his executive superior. He may not like his chief's way, and that way may not be the best one ; but somebody must be in charge and be responsible for things. Authoritj' must proceed from a recognized head, and it is the dutj- of subordiuates to obej' cheerfully and without complaint, either openly or sullenly, all official orders. Xothing can be accomplished by cross-purpose efforts; such practice weakens everybody concerned. The wishes of a superior should be studied and carried out with intel- ligence. Personal likes or dislikes must not enter into the question of loyalty if a successful career be looked forward to in the civil service. Only on the rarest occasions is it wise to oppose superiors, and then only when specific delin- quencies harmful to the public interests can be sustained against him. When such rare occasions do arise, charges should be preferred and the fight conducted with \'igor. Closely aUied with loyalty is that of team work. Not infrequently the Federal employee seeks to build up his career bj' imfair methods. An example in point is that of declining to assist associates in ways that wiU accrue to their benefit when no direct advantage is gained by him- self. Alm ost every corps contains one or more men of this t j^pe, men who are able and willing to go to any inconven- ience if their effort will produce some good for self, but who sedulously avoid helping an associate. A good poli- Federal Civil Service 189 tician knows the value of a strong "machine," and no one can build a machine without team work. Team work produces results, and results count. While it is not neces- sary to be overofficious, it is good politics to help where help is needed and welcomed ; it is the building of influence, it creates friends, and it makes for public and personal success. "You can catch more flies with molasses than with vinegar: " this is merely saying that everybody likes to be commended. When a man has made a mistake it is not necessary to scold him and, in most cases, not even to remind him of it. A kind word has put many a man on his feet. A word of praise for work well done is like the grasp of an honest hand — it carries life and makes the recipient anxious to please. The employee struggling through his routine leaves his desk with a lighter heart when his chief comes to him with a "Well done," or "That's fine." The succeeding days will see light and hope in that man's every act, and his work will show the fruit of the good seed. Nothing will help an official, bearing a burden of responsibility, to better advantage than a few words from an appreciative citizen who has no ax to grind. The citizen can do a great deal of direct good by writing an occasional letter to the official, commending his efforts and wishing him godspeed. There is not an officeholder in our land who does not value honest words of encouragement — not flattery, but heartfelt and heart- spoken good wishes. It is all right to speak well of a man after he is dead; it is far more to the point to tell him while he is still afive. Another good thing to remember and religiously prac- tice is gratitude. Never forget a favor or a courtesy; seek to repay it in double measure. There is no better in- vestment for the professional officeholder than courtesy 190 Public Service and cheerful, not servile, performance of duty. The dis- gruntled man rarely rises high, for officials do not want an associate of this type. Every branch of the service has its flotsam and jetsam. The employee who would makehis career imder theGovern- ment a success vnR carefully avoid the hulks and drift- wood and will seek as associates, both in and out of office, successful and progressive persons. This httle point about associates is not thoroughly vinderstood. It is a fact that the man struggling along will be so influenced by associa- tion with successful men and will become so infected with the spirit of success that failure will be next to impossible. Success, like laughter, is contagious. Silence about official transactions is also enjoined upon the ambitious pubhc servant. Often work is planned, investigations outlined, or decisions rendered in the Fed- eral office that mean a great deal to the country, and the effect of premature annoimcement would be disastrous. The responsibility of giA-iag information to the news- papers, or otherwise divulging official acts, rightly rests with the men at the head of the service, not with subordi- nates. "Leaks" create confusion and often scandal, both of which are detrimental to any branch of the ser\'ice. The pubhc interests are sometimes best conserved by close secrec3\ The employee who can not keep a secret is not a fit person to intrust with Federal affairs. Betrayal of trust is, in most cases, imintentional, due to indiscretion; but the effect is quite the same. Unauthorized and garbled accounts of Federal proceedings are worse than disobedi- ence; they express disloyalty to the Government. A wag- ging tongue sends its owner into private life. "Idle money does n't grow," nor do idle brains. It is easier under the Government to become stale than perhaps in any other career. The Federal servant, whether oc- Federal Civil Service 191 cupying a high or a low position, must hold up his end; otherwise he fails. Hermits, misers, and eccentrics may keep themselves in seclusion in private life, but the public official must be known to the pubUc and the public em- ployee must be known to the official. The nature of public work demands this, and practically all opportunities for advancement in the civil service depend upon it. Those adopting Federal service as a career should recognize the condition and profit accordingly. How shall a man become known? Talents are worthless imless people know about them. Self-advertising, to put it bluntly, is the key. The practice of advertising one- self is in no manner objectionable, provided it be done in legitimate channels. The world is not apt to think better of a man than he thinks of himself. Self-advertisement, however, must be carried on with dignity and discretion, and the man using it must be ready at all times to make good his claims. Otherwise he becomes boastful, con- ceited, and empty-pated, and his constituency will lose confidence in him and set him down as imworthy of trust. People are ever ready to help the man who can prove his mettle. The Government employee or official who would rise in the civil service must possess considerable affability. He must have the traits of sociabihty and all the niceties that make up pohte society without carrying them to an extreme. The higher Government positions invariably carry the quaUfications of sociabihty. One who can make himself agreeable with his fellows both dming official hours and outside makes friends, and if there be one thing that helps advertise a man it is his friends — but not the friends who always want something. The professional office- holder should be a member of one or two good clubs; the acquaintances made there and the prestige that club mem- 192 Public Service bership affords are worth much more than the annual dues. His face becomes familiar to influential men who otherwise might never hear of him. This principle of club life is weU recognized ia the commercial world, and the sooner it is recognized by the ambitious young man desiring to make Government service his career, the sooner will he get a wide acquaintance of men that will be worth a great deal to him. He needs not only to make friends, but to place a proper value on his friends and never impose upon any one or take a mean advantage. Our ci^^l-se^vice system pro^^ides no plan of imiform promotions and there is no regulation requiring appointees to enter at the minimmn salaries and work up through the various grades to the higher places. It is pretty well recognized by obser\-ant persons, both in and out of the pubhc ser\'ice, that such a system would be distinctly advantageous, and to this end many offices encourage ap- _ pointees to enter at miniTmim salaries. Inasmuch as this plan does not obtain everj'where, it is not necessan,- for appointees to enter at the lowest pay of a grade in the hope of gradually rising. Indeed, for the man equipped with a specialty it is advisable to get as large an entering salary as possible, as the law specifically stops him from secur- ing a transfer to another department until he shall have sensed three years in the department from which he seeks transfer. The ci^•il-service systems of some first-class Powers pro\-ide places for understudies who shall ultimately fiU the higher positions. Oiu- system pro^-ides no scheme of this kind. Persons entering our e'vnl service must be well prepared to pass the examinations, and after securing ap- pointment they must keep their eyes and ears open for op- portimities to rise. That the future will bring changes in the methods of handling promotions there is Uttle doubt. Federal Civil Service 193 It is possible that an educational course for understudies may develop with time. The low-placed man's hope for rising lies principally in bringing himself to the attention of the higher officials. It is not enough that he enter low and devote himself closely to business. Such a course will carry one to a certain point by the rule of seniorage, which is well recognized in the departments, particularly in regard to clerical places; but it is very improbable that his will ever be a great success. He must prove his worth to persons who are in position to command his services. This principle is the same in the Government as in commercial and professional life. Precedent is a god in Government. Let no one forget that. The iconoclast is decidedly out of place in every branch of the Government, whether civil or mihtary. Few new appointees reahze this, but a short time in the de- partments serves to impress upon them the fact that the Government has ways of doing things that must take precedence over their own. If it were not for precedent our Government would be a mass of confusion; every official and employee would have his own way of fulfilling his duties, with the result that nothing would be done. Lawyers readily understand and appreciate the value of precedent, and as the higher executive posts are quite gen- erally filled by lawyers precedent is a fixture. Every act must have its authority. Freshmen, particularly from commercial offices, are sometimes inchned to ignore technicahties, which they term "red tape" and treat as of httle consequence, sub- stituting the short-cut methods of the business office. Persistence in this course usually ends in loss of position. Technicahties are the safety apphances of our ponderous Government machine, and ignoring them often results in 194 Public Service great loss and confusion. The safest way for the beginner is to observe all technicalities, no matter how seemingly- trivial. Scarcely less of a god is that of rank, which, however, is not so rigid and imyielding under the civil service as in the mihtary arm. Rank is a recognized condition throughout the Governments of the world, no matter how great or how small. The State Department ranks all other departments; the Army ranks the Navy; the assist- ant secretary of a department ranks the head of a bureau, though the latter receive greater financial compensation; the chief of a division ranks the expert under his direction, though the expert receive double the chief's pay; the clerk ranks the messenger, the messenger ranks the laborer. Good order demands that members of a rank give way to members of a higher grade and that subordinates give precedence to their superiors. The act of showing prefer- ence for members of a higher rank creates a good impres- sion. A close observance of rank in a respectful manner redounds to the benefit of the ambitious oflBceholder; it marks him as versed in the practice that makes for good government. While the careful employee will closely follow prescribed methods, in doing so he will guard against becoming a brainless automaton. Precedents are the things upon which law and order rest and their proper observance is mandatory, but with changing conditions new precedents become necessary, and here originahty is brought into play. In certain branches of Federal work it is a se- rious step to establish a precedent, for there is always the possibility that advantage will be taken of it by the imscrupulous or imthinking. Conservatism is therefore necessary. Military and naval ideas of rank and discipline are Federal Civil Service 195 often extremely distasteful to civilian employees who, lack- ing the training, rarely grasp the spirit of military disci- pline. Instances are not lacking, on the other hand, where military and naval officers entertain a contemptuous re- gard for civilian employees and do not hesitate to show it. It is almost unnecessary to say that such conditions are exceptional and individual and are not countenanced by the service. Notwithstanding, they create jealousies and ill feeling, and are a factor to be taken into account when adopting Government service as a career. There is less thrift among Government employees than perhaps among any other class of citizens with correspond- ing incomes. Very few department employees own a home, and few save anything from their salaries no matter how large or how small. A great deal of complaint is heard from Federal employees on account of an inability to ac- cumulate a competence. Debt is common; not the debt of a business man, but that of hand-to-mouth living. A Government employee in receipt of twelve hundred dollars a year has nothing at the end of the year; it is the same with those receiving two thousand or three thousand dollars, or even more. It is not a question of the size of the salary; the result is the same. While employees here and there will be found who save something from their pay they are the exceptions and, compared with the total number of officeholders, form a small minority. Spending is a habit with the public employee. In the city of Washington, where over twenty-five thousand Government employees reside, loan sharks do a thriving business. So greedy and annoying have these collateral vultures grown that it has become necessary to adopt stern measures against them. Complaints from creditors have been so numerous that department officials have found it necessary to issue circulars stating that the Government 196 Public Service is not in the collectiag business. In actual practice no official cognizance is taken of employees' debts, except when it is evident that some dishonesty exists; in that event the delinquency is regarded as conduct unbecoming a gentleman and the employee is treated accordingly — sometimes merely warned, sometimes dropped from the Federal pay roll. Several causes operate to bring about and maintain habits of thriftlessness among Government employees. The prospect of a life position, for one thing, tends to make incimibents careless in money matters. The temptation to spend against the assurance of a steady income becomes irresistible to many and the result is disastrous to sav- ings accounts. Another important cause is that persons adopting Federal work as a life career are not primarily of commercial bent. Owing to thriftless habits of officeholders, the question of providing pensions of insurance is now being seriously agitated, and there is little doubt that the Congress will be asked to enact some kind of legislation looking to the rehef of indigent employees now burdening some offices. Thousands of officeholders have spent over twenty-five years ia pubhc work, dimng which time they have received a steady income, on the whole averaging higher than is given for similar service in commercial life. A goodly proportion of these aged incumbents have not saved a cent during those years of steady income, and they find themselves, at the end of their life's work, no farther ad- vanced financially than when they began. It must not be understood that these employees have led fives of in- temperance and squandered their income in drink or at the gaming table. It is qmte the reverse. They are, as a rule, strictly sober, gentlemanly, and respected; their poverty is a result of environment. Federal Civil Service 197 In no class of occupation are the possibilities for saving better than in Government service. Every officeholder can and should live modestly within his income. He can buy a home and systematically save money. The oppor- tunities for investing savings are not the same as those coming to the commercial worker, yet the chances for placing money where it will grow are ample. The in- creasing value of land in this country offers an inviting field for savings; sound stocks and bonds netting four to six per cent are always to be bought; new industries are springing up, calling for subscriptions to the capital stock; savings banks all over the country pay from three to four per cent on deposits; home-buying is always a good investment. The yoxmg man adopting public service as a career should make it an inflexible rule to lay by not less than twenty-five per cent of his salary every pay day. This should be fastened upon himself on receipt of the first month's salary and should never be broken. It is easy to let one month go by in the hope of saving a double amount the next month; the next month sees an unexpected de- mand for money and the double amount is not put aside. The only way to save money is to make the rule absolute, even to the extent of great inconvenience ; in other words, systematic saving. This can not be impressed too strongly upon young appointees. Systematic saving induces prin- ciples of thrift which are felt in everything that a man does. The saving man remains young and vigorous, not only in his private life but in his public career. His whole life becomes systematic and he is kept away from the pit- falls of ease and luxury that are so disastrous. Commercialism is not to be commended to officeholders ; men so incHned should go into business and not take up public service. But failure to save is to be condemned. 198 Public Service Academic advice on saving money is, in a degree, useless ; but it sometimes spin's yoimg manhood to effort, and re- sults in good. Judging from the number of old persons in the depart- ments one might suppose that the health of the public employee is unusually good and that this class of the world's workers Uve to greater ages than those in other pursuits. Statistics on this point are lacking; but obser- vation would seem to indicate that the health of public employees does not differ much, if any, from that of others in similar grades of work. Perhaps, on the whole, it is somewhat better, owing to the amount of leisure gained by reason of short hours and long vacations. Moderation is general in the life of the oflSceholder, and moderation is well known to be conducive to health and long hfe. If this count for much, the Government employee is espe- cially favored. Yet statistics are unavailable, and this- is a matter of conjecture. The young man taking up Federal service as a career should plan for years ahead. He should fix upon some goal and bend all his energies to attain that object. The temptation to go out of one's course for something better is a peculiarly strong one in the service of the United States. Positions and conditions in some other office or branch of the service may appear so much better that it is next to impossible for the young official to withstand an attempt to lay hold upon something else. Fixity of purpose should be a rigid rule of the man aspiring to a successful pubhc career. Ambition should be anchored to a certain high post, and the attainment of that one place will form the basis of an honorable career in the nation's service. Assimiing that a young man twenty years old, with a high-school education and two years' commercial experi- Federal Civil Service 199 ence, aims for the chief clerkship of a department; his first step is to secure a clerical position by competitive ex- amination. Immediately upon entering the civil service he will matriculate at one of the colleges in Washington, selecting a career that will lead to the degree of A.B. Upon the completion of his college course at the end of four years he will begin a three-year course in law. He will thus spend seven years in educating himself. While serving these seven years he should have received promo- tions bringing him up to an annual salary of sixteen hun- dred dollars. Upon completing his law course he is ready to battle for the object of his ambition — the department chief clerkship. Self-advertisement is now indicated. His educational attainments will entitle him to membership in a good club, where he should make his influence felt in a quiet, conserva- tive way, and where he should make friends. He will be on the constant lookout for opportunities, always keeping abreast of progress. By making a close study of depart- ment methods and practice he will make himself known in his bureau and his advice will be sought by the higher officials. He will be careful to associate himself as closely as possible with the department officials, avoiding remote assignments even at higher pay and positions involving merely routine duties. Upon the occurrence of a vacancy in the position which he covets he will go to the proper officials and lay his case before them, a course that is fre- quently unnecessary for one who has proven his mettle. If a man's ambition lie among the higher offices outside of the so-called civil service, a political career is indicated. If a scientific career be chosen, specialism in his favorite profession supplemented by published work will bring him honors. Fixity of purpose, in all cases, is the one stern rule to be followed. YOUNG AMERICANS IN THE CONSULAR SERVICE 1 By JAMES E. DUNNING ROTUND, placid citizen presented himself, not long ago, at the door of a high officer of the government ©f the United States, and asked for an interview. The letter of intro- duction which accompanied his card was from such a source that the request was almost immediately granted. "I am a professional man, " explained the visitor, when he had been admitted, "and I want a rest and a change of scene. Politics in my state have shifted and left me without active occupation. I have never been abroad, and I have always wanted to go. My friends are willing to indorse me, and they will back up my request that I be appointed as consul in some large European city, where I can live agreeably without much expense to myself or many demands upon my family. I should like to be appointed as soon as possible, and I presume that, with such indorsements as I have, you can find a place for me." "Have you any knowledge of foreign languages, sir?" asked the cakn man behind the desk. "Not a word," repHed the caller, proudly. "Plain United States is good enough for me!" "Have you any knowledge of the work of a consular oflScer?" "Why — clerks do what work there is, I suppose." ' By permission of " The Youth's Companion " and Ginn and Company. Copyright, 1909. 200 Young Americans in the Consular Service 201 "Would you be willing to prepare yourself to pass this examination?" continued the officer, handing his visitor a printed folder containing a set of questions in econom- ics, history, geography, common and international law, arithmetic, bookkeeping, and other subjects of an entirely practical nature. "It wouldn't be dignified for me to go into anything like that, " said the applicant, returning the folder with- out reading beyond the heading of it. "My political indorsements and — " "Do you believe that you are suited to undertake, at your time of life, the direction of the business of a con- sulate?" asked the officer, with a manner of mild interest rather than of inferential criticism. "Why, as to that," responded the retired professional man, "what is the business of a consulate?" The applicant did not get his appointment. The officer who with such gentleness separated him from his ambitions took this opportunity to outline his attitude toward the consular service. "These are some of the things you would have to do, and do well," he said, at the end, "if I gave you an appointment to a consulate. I don't want to see a man of your stamp make a serious misstep. Even if you could pass the examination, could you do the work which we demand?" "No," replied the applicant, frankly, "I could not undertake it at my age. I did not know a consulate was a place where actual work was required of a man." As a matter of fact, the retired gentleman of this case was typical of the wide ignorance concerning a branch of our public service which has been so swiftly developing into a corps d'elite that the country has been unable to keep pace with its advance. The new consular service 202 Public Service demands, in the first instance, the best young men we can offer it. Once it gets them, it affords them an oppor- tunity for the exploitation of their talents not surpassed by the army, the navy, the marine corps, the alHed but entirely separate diplomatic corps, or by any other department of the government. No light in the consular service can be put under any one's bushel. Everything counts. The consulate in a great foreign industrial capital is nothing less than an official commercial agency, acting as a clearing house for transactions affecting the interests of the United States. It is a highly organized counting- house, and the better it holds to that idea, the more useful it becomes. The consul, like the navy captain, is an independent commander. He acts under the strictest possible dis- cipline, to which, unlike the specially trained navy man, he is often so little accustomed that his first years in the service are slightly disturbing to his inborn sense of inde- pendence; but, being so far away from his base, and isolated from the other units forming the subdivision to which he is attached, he has an unusual degree of hberty on the one side and of responsibility on the other. The natiu-e of his position and of his orders is such as to demand that he often act instantly on his own judg- ment, which must be reviewed later by merciless superiors, whose business it is to search out every flaw in his reason- ing, and admonish him accordingly. Is it any wonder, then, that this work demands the best men in the country, and that the entrance examinations have been made so difficult that out of fifty-four who recently made the attempt, only thirteen were able to reach the required rank of eighty in a possible one hundred? The youth who contemplates the consular service as Young Americans in the Consular Service 203 a career, no longer seeks out members of Congress with an invitation to forward him, with indorsements, to the Department of State at Washington. Years before he comes to the age at which he can enter the service, — twenty-one, — he must be preparing himself for that examination which is the initial test of his fitness. He should have a classical college training, if possible. Latin, modern languages, chemistry, higher mathematics, anthropology, sociology, political science and economy, constitutional law and the principles of general history should be studied. Everything he can learn about these subjects, everything he can store up in his mind and write down in his notebooks, will be of use to him in the consular service. If the youth be a college student pursuing a four years' course, he will have about, four months each year in vaca- tion. If he be working for his living, and getting his education at odd times, he will have no vacation at all. But in either case he can gain the business training required of the successful consul. The college student's sixteen months of recess time, applied to practical work in some convenient bank or countingroom, will give him a good hold on business methods if he is sufficiently apt. If he is not apt, the consular service is no place for him. The less fortunate young man who is working his way will acquire the business training by sheer necessity. Indeed, he must be careful not to acquire it at the expense of the equally necessary theoretical training which must be got out of books. Each of them will pass the exami- nation well up. Each will be assigned to either a small consulate or a vice consulship. Each will go out to his post full of confidence in himself because he knows that he is well prepared to undertake his duties. 204 Public Service After passing the consular exanunation, the young candidate is placed on the appointment hst, to be given a post or a vice consulship when his turn comes. Appoint- ments are governed by geographical considerations and the claims of each state based on its population. That is, it is intended, in a general way, that there shall always be in the service a certain proportionate number of consular officers from each state, and that all sections of the country shall be represented in the corps. There is a most excellent reason for this, since in a country so large as ours, and with a character so diver- sified, a commercial service like the consular corps should be representative of all our parts. During the waiting period the candidate has been ac- quiring information as to his prospective duties, study- ' ing the languages and commercial systems of the countries to which he may be sent, and familiarizing himself with the voluminous consular regulations. When at length he receives his appointment, he will be shown a map of the country, with the hmits of his consular district heavily outlined in black ink. That is his command, the deck he is to direct, the colony he is to serve; and I am sm-e that if the young officer has imagination, he wiU feel a thrill when he looks at that territory and realizes that there, to the best of what is in him, he is going to stand as the impersonation of the spirit of his country. Within his district, the new consul will find himself the center of all activity affecting the United States. From its most remote parts people must come to him, or sometimes he must go to them. He will learn its special physical features, its peculiarities, its resources. "My district" will always come off his lips with a certain emphasis of pride. He will glory in its advan- Young Americans in the Consular Service 205 tages and wink faithfully at its drawbacks. He will take pleasure in knowing every corner of it. He will do what he can to see that, in as far as it has needs and products of interest to American exporters and importers, they shall be made known. He will try to make it felt that when any one wants to know anything about the district, it is he to whom the inquiry can be sent with confidence in the response. This cultivation of his district will be the most inter- esting phase of the consul's official life. If he is luckily ordered to a post in one of the more remote and unde- veloped countries, as he is very likely to be if he is young and vigorous and unencumbered with a family, he will find it all the more worth his while to explore the outlying sections from which our trade is drawn. Naturally it is much less exciting and productive of much less valuable experience to visit one's district in an express train or trolley car than on horseback with a camp kit following on a mule. The man who is either obliged by the family consider- ations which must be regarded, or ordered by the Depart- ment of State, to take a post in some European country or in Canada or in one of the attractive cities of South America, will see that side of the service which, while more superficially inviting, will in the long run narrow his experience and have a tendency to stunt the growth of his capabilities. But there is as much opportunity in one post as in another, if the consul knows how to find it, although that of the European metropolis is totally different from that of the far trade outposts where, instead of going to the opera in the evening, the consul may have to defend his paddock against a hungry tiger which has made up its mind to devour the consular cow. 206 Public Service The corps is always producing examples of a very fine kind of personal courage. There have already begun to appear cases ia which the man takes gladly the im- welcome order which separates him from his family and drives him away into some fever-infested district, where the one reason why his life is worth more than the clothes on his body is the flag he flies above his office door. And this new disposition to obey orders to the letter, no matter where they lead, is bringing out, too, the char- acter of the young women of the corps, many of whom are following their husbands to the ends of the earth to aid them in their duty. It is true of the consular corps, more than any other, that the women of the ser\dce have responsibihties and duties, demands and privileges, equal in every way, if less obviously recognized, than those of the men them- selves. If yoimg Americans find in the consular service an unexampled field for the exercise of their abihties, the young women of America, some of whom wiU naturally be called upon to enter into the career as helpmates, will find their fives quite as full of abimdant opportunities. "Just what is it a consul has to do?" the novice will have been asked so many times at home by his owm people that he wiU arrive at his post with some personal curiosity toward that very question. Immediately on taking charge, he will find that a consul has to do a Httle of everything. In the new service, the consul who enters a post — or who transfers from one post to another — finds certain exact conditions which render his assump- tion of duty simple. In the old days each consul ran his office as he liked; sometimes he did not run it at all. Now, under the new unbending discipUne, one office is conducted exactly like another. Young Americans in the Consular Service 207 Each book called for by the regulations is kept in the same manner, almost in the same place. Each letter arriving and each letter sent out is registered and filed according to an inflexible system. If the young appointee, sent to Milan, in Italy, as vice consul, should, a month after his arrival there, be ordered by cable to proceed to Vladivostok, in Russia, to assume temporary charge of that office, pending the coming of the consul assigned to that post, he would walk into the latter office and take up his work exactly where he had laid it down in Italy two months before. The most difficult duty performed by a consul is the examination and certification of invoices of goods shipped to the United States. Every such shipment above one himdred dollars in value must be listed on a sort of bill called a consular invoice, in which the values and amounts are stated explicitly and attested by the shipper. Three copies of each of these invoices, and sometimes four or five, must be brought to the consulate, and on the back of each the consul must sign his name to a certificate in which he declares that he believes the values to be correct. That means that he must keep in touch with the main sources of trade information in his district; that he must possess the confidence of officials of all classes; that he must have studied and mastered the languages of the country; that he must have made special investigations of articles with which he was unfamiliar; that he must have done a great deal of quiet work to ascertain true values without offending influential merchants who can be of use to him in other numerous ways. Nothing in the consul's work requires so much tact and wisdom as this. Probably the young consul has not been at his post more than two or three days before he is called upon to 208 Public Service loan money to penniless travelers — practically none of them Americans. Although the United States wisely decUnes to allow its consuls to dispense funds on its account abroad, and the consul is entirely powerless to aid such visitors, there seems to be some remarkable magnet which draws all foreign wayfarers toward the Stars and Stripes. Many of them are the professional "standersup" of consulates, who, with a smattering of European languages, make the rounds of all the offices in town, acting the loyal but "stranded" citizen in each. One such wanderer made his appeal more effective by the use of an American flag knotted gracefully about his neck as the tie which not only bound him for the moment to the consul's sympathy, but secm-ed a very soiled linen collar. Investigation disclosed that he had a long series of flags of all nations, and that he carefully changed neckties before visiting each consulate! Broken-down circus performers, retired waiters, de- generated song-and-dance "artists," pale youths, tired- looking women, talkative ex-capitalists, whining tramps — every variety of vagrancy and indolence comes to the consul's door for aid, each telling its serio-comic lie in its broken English, and shedding its imitation tears at the sight of "the dear old flag." All these, like the more polite and even less scrupulous mendicants of a better class, are impostors of a pecu- liarly bold type; but the donsul, although he will speedily learn how to send them away without money loss to himself, will find that they will consume more of his time as beggars than they are worth as specimens to be added to his sociological collection. If the young consul should arrive at his desk at eight o'clock in the morning, as he must do if he is assigned to an active post, he will need an hour to lay out the day's Young Americans in the Consular Service 209 work and examine the mail which will come in before nine. At nine, when the doors open to the public, there will begin the unbroken stream of callers, which will stop only when the doors close at the end of the day. First, perhaps, a set of patent papers is to be prepared under the rules laid down by the United States Patent Office. Then in succession comes a series of interviews with shippers, who wish to protest against involuntary increases in their invoiced prices, to receive information upon the terms of the tariff law with relation to their goods, or to make voluntarily a statement safeguarding their prices by giving proof in advance. At eleven o'clock there will possibly arrive several American travelers, one with automobile troubles, an- other with a lost trunk to be found, another requiring identification at the post office or bank, a fourth — if the consulate is in Europe — looking for a boarding house for her daughter, who is coming over to study for the opera, and one or more others who "invariably call to pay their respects to the American consul," and who remain for an hour in unfettered conversation and genial reminiscences of their travels. For these the consul must be all things to all men and women. He must weep with them that weep, and rejoice with them that rejoice. He must throw open his heart to the amusing narratives of the "globe-trotter" from Massachusetts, or, as the occasion demands, assume the languid air of hooded motor ladies, or meet the keen American reporter face to face with all the alertness in him, eager to sustain the reputation of the service. The tariff, the tax on automobiles, the hours at which certain mountain roads are open to motors, the address of a reliable sausage-maker, the amount of the earnings of the state railroads in the past six months, the name of 210 Public Service a dark-complexioned dentist who practiced in the city twenty years before, the cost of renting a piano, the name of the principal doctor — these are some of the simpler questions asked at the consulate during the open ofl&ce period, which is natm-ally not less than four to five hours daily. After horn's, the consul works on his reports. The preparation of his reports is the part of his work to which the young consul will turn with the liveliest inter- est, because it is there that he can make direct use of the mental equipment which he has so carefully acquired, and be sure that each intelligent effort will be appre- ciated. He never lacks an opening. In the richness of sugges- tion afforded all the time by the routine of the day's work, the consulate is more like a daily newspaper oflSce than any other place in the world. The consul's report- ing work is hke that of the managing editor plus a very much better opportunity for selection, and a more pro- nounced flavor of serious hterary endeavor. Hence the consul's superiors are doing everything possible to send him subordinates to whom he can safely assign the preparation of reports, as a city editor assigns "stories" to his bright young men. He assiduously subscribes for and reads the foremost half dozen American newspapers, as well as those of his consular district, and while his assistants are at work on the actual con- struction of such reports as he considers suited to their abilities, he devotes himself to indexing clippings, and to studying the local and foreign trade and statistical publi- cations at his command. Certain reports he both collects and writes with his own hands. Next he must see to the cultivation of his personal and official relations in the town where he is stationed. Young Americans in the Consular Service 211 Often he must make as many calls as the pastor of a busy parish. Always he keeps in mind the strict regard for formal etiquette which at first seems strange to the American newly stationed on foreign soil. He learns that there are many innocent things which the private individual can do which can not be done by the consul without draw- ing criticism upon that service the reputation of which he jealously guards from even the thought of indiscretion. Through his intercourse with others, he tries to feel that in his small sphere of influence and in his own person he is standing for that high character and dignity of conduct, for which stands above all his ultimate superior, and the service as a whole. "I am an American," he says to himself, "and I stand for America, that America and Americans may fare well among these people with whom I have to do." And when all is said and done, it is less with the vital details of his work than with the fullness with which he realizes himself in this capacity, that his success in the new consular service is concerned — the new service which needs the best blood we can train for it, and which appeals to American youth with the full appeal of the true American ideal. CONSULAR SERVICE By HERBERT C. HENGSTER JHE Consular Service has been rejuvenated and the old-style go-as-you-please officer has been superseded by the bright, hustling, ener- getic young man who knows his country and his country's needs, and is constantly studying the best means for aiding in its commercial expansion and protecting its varied interests. He also knows that his retention in the Service depends upon himself and the sort of record that he makes. He is one of several himdred officers, all desirous of, and working for, pro- motion, and in order to achieve this he realizes that he can not be inactive and inefficient, and that his record must outstrip the records of his colleagues. Americans should be proud of their Consular Service and the work it is doing. It is daily becoming a stronger factor in the commercial prosperity of the country. In the past many manufacturers have had sufficient outlet within the United States for their manufactured product, and have not had to look for foreign markets, so that very generally they have failed to realize the benefits they may derive from the Consular Service and what it can do for them. One difficulty in the past which has to an extent re- duced the good results obtained from the Consular Ser- vice was the method of appointment of consular officers without regard to their particular fitness for the places to which they were sent, or as the former Secretary of State, Mr. Root, expressed it, "The placing of roimd pegs 212 Consular Service 213 in square holes." Since 1896, when the first order pro- viding for an examination before appointment went into effect, the tendency has been to strengthen and improve the Service. The greatest step forward was taken by President Roosevelt in his order of June 27, 1906, which for the first time in a regular and practical manner recog- nized the worth, ability, and work of a consul by provid- ing for his retention and promotion in the service on a basis of merit, and merit alone. This order also enlarged the scope of the entrance examination, making, among other things, a knowledge of a foreign language essential. After securing the issuance of this order, the Secretary of State determined that, in order that consular officers might fully appreciate and understand the importance of their work, they should not proceed to their posts until they had a knowledge of their duties and how to con- duct a consulate. Congress had provided by law that a newly appointed consul may receive salary for a period of thirty days in the United States while receiving in- structions. This, it was decided, was never intended by Congress as a bonus, but was meant to be an actual instruction period. Therefore, after consultation with Mr. Wilbur J. Carr, then Chief of the Consular Bureau, and since promoted to be the Director of the Consular Service, the Secretary gave directions that in order to secure any salary for the thirty-day instruction period a consul must actually be engaged during that time in receiving instructions. This has resulted in the estab- lishment in the Consular Bm-eau of the Department of State of a "model consulate" or, as it is popularly called in the press, "A Consular School." Every newly appointed consul is required to proceed to Washington and spend at least thirty days in this office learning just what he will be expected to do when he reaches his post, 214 Public Service and how he may get the best results from whatever con- ditions confront him. In the past three years approximately one-third of the consular officers in the service have had the benefit of this instruction. These men have gone out to all parts of the world, as is shown by one class of nine men re- cently in Washington, one of whom went to Cochin, China, one to Tasmania, two to Italy, one to Chile, one to Greece, two to Mexico, and one to China. Each day while in Washington they take up, under the leadership of some one with practical consular experience, some subject with which they wiU be called upon to deal upon arrival at their posts, such as their duties with regard to the certification of invoices and protection of the cus- toms revenue, quarantine matters, settlement of estates of deceased Americans, reUef of seamen, and other mat- ters connected with the merchant marine and the like. In addition to these conferences, addresses or talks are given by speciahsts on various subjects. For example, Dr. Wylie, of the Department of Agriculture, addresses the consuls on their duties in connection with the en- forcement of the Food Inspection Laws. The Agricul- tural Expert of the Department of Agriculture takes up the subject of the introduction into the United States of new and useful plants and fruits, and the aid that consular officers may render in this work. The chiefs of the Bureaus of Citizenship, Trade Relations, and Ac- counts discuss citizenship, commercial possibifities, and accounts, respectively. The Chief of the Bureau of Trade Relations calls attention particularly to the kind of reports and information that is most useful to Ameri- can business men. All those consular officers who are going to Latin America have the benefit of a talk by the Director of the ■n > z O m H I m r o a o z n o c z n r r o z o o z ^ 4^ Consular Service 215 Bureau of American Republics, while those going to other parts of the world are placed in touch ^-ith those persons in Washington who are thoroughly conversant with conditions in their respective districts. Each officer also spends a few days before leaving the United States in the customhouse at the port of departure, taking up there customs matters, imdervaluations, invoicing, and kindred subjects. It will be seen by this that every effort is now being made to give consular officers as thorough a training as possible in the limited time available before they pro- ceed to their posts. Although this training has been in force but a comparatively short time it is sho^dng its good effect by the improvement in the work and reports of the consular officers, and by the attitude of appre- ciation and understanding of their duties which the con- suls display as a result of the instructions. It is the first time that anything of the kind has been attempted, and is a great step forward and one which can not but work for more imif ormity of method and an improved Consular Service. AMERICAN DIPLOMACY 1 By JOHN HAY AM. asked to say something about our di- plomacy. You want from me nothing but the truth; and yet, if I confine myseK to the truth, I cannot help fearing I shall do my profession a wrong in the minds of those who have been in the habit of considering diplomacy an occult science, as mysterious as alchemy, and as dangerous to the morals as municipal politics. It must be admitted that this conception of the diplomatic function is not without a certain historical foundation. There was a time when diplomacy was a science of intrigue and falsehood, of traps and mines and coimter- mines. The word "machiavelic " has become an adjec- tive in our common speech, signifying fraudulent craft and g^lile; but Machiavel was as honest a man as his time justified or required. The King of Spain wrote to the King of France after the massacre of St. Bartholomew congratxilating him upon the splendid dissimulation with which that stroke of policy had been accomplished. In the last generation it was thought a remarkable advance in straightforward diplomacy when Prince Bismarck recognized the advantage of telling the truth, even at the risk of misleading his adversary. It may be another instance of that half creduHty with which I have often been charged by Eiu-opean critics when I say that I really beUeve the world has moved onward in diplomacy ^ From "The American Idea," by pennission of Dodd, Mead & Company. Copyright, 1902. 216 American Diplomacy 217 as in many other matters. In my experience of diplo- matic life, which now covers more years than I Uke to look back upon, and in the far greater record of Amer- ican diplomacy which I have read and studied, I can say without hesitation that we have generally told squarely what we wanted, announced early in negotiation what we were willing to give, and allowed the other side to accept or reject our terms. During the time in which I have been prominently concerned in our foreign rela- tions, I can also say that we have been met by the repre- sentatives of other powers in the same spirit of frankness and sincerity. Men of large affairs will bear me out in saying there is nothing like straightforwardness to beget its like. The comparative simplicity of our diplomatic methods would be a matter of necessity if it were not of choice. Secret treaties, reserved clauses, private understandings are impossible to us. No treaty has any validity until ratified by the Senate; many require the action of both Houses of Congress to be carried into effect. They must, therefore, be in harmony with public opinion. The Executive could not change this system even if he should ever desire to. It must be accepted, with all its diffi- culties and all its advantages; and it has been approved by the experience of a hundred years. As to the measure of success which our recent diplo- macy has met with, it is difficult, if not impossible, for me to speak. There are two important lines of human endeavor in which men are forbidden even to allude to their success — affairs of the heart and diplomatic affairs. In doing so, one not only commits a vulgar- ity which transcends all question of taste, but makes all future success impossible. For this reason, the dip- lomatic representatives of the Government must fre- 218 Public Service quently suffer in silence the most outrageous imputa- tions upon their patriotism, their inteUigence, and their conunon honesty. To justify themselves before the pub- lic, they would sometimes have to place iu jeopardy the interests of the nation. They must constantly adopt for themselves the motto of the French revolutionist: "Let my name wither, rather than my country be iu- jured." But if we are not permitted to boast of what we have done, we can at least say a word about what we have tried to do, and the principles which have guided owe actions. The briefest expression of our rule of conduct is, perhaps, the Monroe Doctrine and the Golden Rule. With this simple chart we can hardly go far wTong. I think I may say that our sister repubhcs to the south of us are perfectly convinced of the sincerity of our attitude. They know we desire the prosperity of each of them, and peace and harmony among them. We no more want their territory than we covet the mountains of the moon. We are grieved and distressed when there are differences among them, but even then we should never thiok of trying to compose any of those differ- ences unless by the request of both parties to it. Not even our earnest desire for peace among them will lead us to any action which might offend their national dignity or their just sense of independence. We owe them aU the consideration which we claim for ourselves. To critics in various climates who have other views of our purposes we can only wish fuller information and more quiet consciences. As to what we have tried to do — what we are still trjdng to do — in the general field of diplomacy, there is no reason for doubt on the one hand or reticence on the other. President McKinley iu his messages made the American Diplomacy 219 subject perfectly clear. We have striven, on the lines laid down by Washington, to cultivate friendly relations with all powers, but not to take part in the formation of groups or combinations among them. A position of complete independence is not incompatible with relations involving not friendship alone but concurrent action as well in important emergencies. We have kept always in view the fact that we are pre- eminently a peace-loving people; that our normal activi- ties are in the direction of trade and commerce; that the vast development of our industries imperatively demands that we shall not only retain and confirm our hold on our present markets, but seek constantly, by all honorable means, to extend our commercial interests in every prac- ticable direction. For this reason we have negotiated the treaties of reciprocity which now await the action of the Senate ; all of them conceived in the traditional American spirit of protection to our own industries, and yet mutu- ally advantageous to ourselves and our neighbors. In the same spirit we have sought, successfully, to induce all the great powers to unite in a recognition of the general principle of equality of commercial access and opportunity in the markets of the Orient. We believe that "a fair field and no favor" is all we require; and with less than that we can not be satisfied. If we accept the assurances we have received as honest and genuine, as I certainly do, that equality will not be denied us; and the result may safely be left to American genius and energy. We consider our interests in the Pacific Ocean as great now as those of any other power, and destined to indefi- nite development. We have opened our doors to the people of Hawaii; we have accepted the responsibility of the Philippines which Providence imposed upon us; we 220 Public Service have put an end to the embarrassing condominium in which we were involved in Samoa, and while abandon- ing none of our commercial rights in the entire group, we have established our flag and our authority in Tutuila, which gives us the finest harbor in the South Seas. Next in order will come a Pacific cable, and an isthmian canal for the use of all well-disposed peoples, but under exclu- sive American ownership and American control — of both of which great enterprises President McKinley and President Roosevelt were the energetic and consistent champions. We frankly confess we seek the friendship of all the powers; we want to trade with all peoples; we are con- scious of resom-ces that will make oirr commerce a soiu-ce of advantage to them and of profit to ourselves. But no wantonness of strength will ever induce us to drive a hard bargain with another nation because it is weak, nor will any fear of ignoble criticism tempt us to insult or defy a great power because it is strong, or even because it is friendly. The attitude of our diplomacy may be indicated in a text of Scripture which Franklin — the first and greatest of our diplomats — tells us passed through his mind when he was presented at the Court of Versailles. It was a text his father used to quote to him in the old candle shop in Boston, when he was a boy: "Seest thou a man diligent in his business? he shall stand before kings." Let us be diligent in our business and we shall stand, — stand, you see, not crawl or swagger, — stand, as a friend and equal asking nothing, putting up with nothing, but what is right and just, among our peers^ in the great democracy of nations. THE ARMY TRAINING SCHOOLS AT FORT RILEY 1 HOW THE UNITED STATES ARMY IS SUPPLIED WITH TRAINED BAKERS, COOKS, FARRIERS, AND HORSESHOERS By CHARLES S. WEST JHERE can be but little doubt that the Amer- ican soldier is the best-fed soldier in the world. His "ration," by which is meant the allowance for the subsistence of one person for one day, is sufficient in quantity and quality not only to sustain hfe and strength but to furnish a varied and satisfying diet. The regular garrison ration is composed of twenty ounces of fresh meat or its equivalent in salt meat; eighteen ounces of bread; two and two-fifths oimces of beans, peas, rice, or hominy; sixteen ounces of potatoes or other vegetables; one and three-fifths ounces of dried fruit; one and three-fifths ounces of coffee; three and one-fifth ounces of sugar; and a proportionate amount of seasoning components. Usually the entire amoimt of the rations due an organ- ization (troop, battery, or company) is not used, and such savings are paid for in cash, which is used to purchase delicacies not included in the ration. This fund is increased by dividends declared by the cooperative store conducted at each post and known as the "post exchange." At posts located on military reservations of sufficient ^ By courteous permission of the Author and " The World To-day." Copyright, 1906. 221 222 Public Service extent a plot of ground is set aside for a garden which is cultivated by the soldiers and its produce used fmlher to amplify the ration. From such an amount of food substances it is possible to secure three good meals, especially when it is provided and prepared in quantities sufficient for an organization of from sixty to more than a hundred men. Here is a soldier's biU of fare for three days, selected at random from among those recently prepared for actual use: MONDAY. Breakfast: Fried bacon. Fried potatoes. Coffee. Bread. Apple sauce. Dinner: Vegetable soup. Roast beef and gravy. Creamed potatoes. Com on the cob. Bread. Supper: Stewed beef and dumplings. Bread pudding. Coffee. Bread. Green onions. TUESDAY. Breakfast: Oatmeal and milk. Fried beefsteak. Fried potatoes. Coffee. Bread. Dinner: Bacon and beans. Sliced tomatoes. Pickles. Apple sauce. Rice pudding. Coffee. Bread. Supper: Fried beef loin and gravy. Apple dumplings, sauce. Coffee. Bread. WEDXESDAY. Breafcfast: Beef stew. Coffee. Hot biscmt. Bread. Dinner: Roast beef and gra\-j-- Mashed potatoes. String beans. Apple fritters, Sauce. Bread. Radishes. Supper: Beef hash. Hot biscmts. Syrup. Pumpkin pie. Coffee. Bread. While this fare may not appeal to some of the fastidious members of our more aristocratic classes, there are thousands of American citizens who work harder and longer than do Uncle Sam"s soldiers and who do not have so much or so great a variety of food. The soldier's Army Training Schools at Fort Riley 223 fare is varied as much as possible throughout the month, and on certain holidays, such as Thanksgiving Day and Christmas, a much larger variety' is provided from the funds in the treasury of the organization, and a big feast is spread. When, however, the soldier finds his meat blackened and dry, his vegetables scorched or soggy, and his bread sour, he is liable to become dissatisfied with his lot. Some one has aptly said that an incompetent cook will send more men to the guardhouse than almost anj- other agency of evil, and there is truth expressed in the old story of the woman who said that the best way to manage a man is to "feed the brute." This appUes with especial force in the case of the average enlisted man of the army with whom the words "ambition" and "appetite" are practically sjTionjrmous. If his appetite is not gratified by the food furnished him, he is likely to gratify it else- where, with the all too common result of a term of con- finement for drunkenness and disorderly conduct. The proper cooking of the army ration has long been a very serious problem confronting army ofiicers. The employment of civilian cooks is not permitted, as it would entail too much expense and it is not considered practicable to take so many civilian employees, not subject to military discipline, into active campaigns with troops. It is, therefore, the custom to appoint from among the enlisted men, bakers for each post and cooks for each organization, the men so appointed receiving slightly increased compensation. The post or organiza- tion commander who can find among his soldiers a sufficient number who have had enough experience in baking or cooking properly to perform these duties, considers himself fortunate indeed. It more often happens that such men can not be found, and then inexperienced 224 Public Service men must be detailed to do the work, and poor baking and cooking with all their attendant evils invariably follow. While difficulties of this nature have been encountered in feeding the soldier, other and just as serious difficulties have been found in the mounted service in caring for the army horse. Almost every American citizen knows how to feed a horse and can do it fairly well; but few indeed who enlist in the army know how to shoe a horse properly or care for one when it is sick. But in each organization of the mounted service one or more men must be de- tailed to shoe the horses, and one to act as farrier and take charge, under the direction of the army veterinarians, of the sick horses. It can be readily understood that many valuable government horses are ruined through improper shoeing by incompetent blacksmiths and by improper care when sick. To remedy, as far as possible, these conditions, the War Department has estabhshed, in connection with the School of Application for Cavalry and Field Artillery, at Fort E-iley, Kansas, the Training School for Bakers and Cooks and the Training School for Farriers and Horseshoers. The large post of Fort Riley, with a garrison composed of twelve troops of cavalry and five batteries of field artillery, with an average enUsted strength of over eighteen hundred men, is of necessity provided with a large and well-equipped bakery. With this plant, therefore, the question of estabUshing a training school for bakers presented no serious difficulties, as the classes under instruction could be employed under the direction of competent bakers and the product used to supply the large garrison with its daily bread. The products of a cooking school, however, if similarly Army Training Schools at Fort Riley 225 conducted, could not be so disposed of, and the resultant waste would entail so much expense as to render the plan impracticable. Captain M. S. Murray, of the Subsistence Department, stationed at Fort Riley as commissary offi- cer, hit upon the plan of giving practical instruction in the kitchens of the troops and batteries stationed at the post. This plan, worked out and elaborated by Captain Murray, under the direction of Colonel Ed. S. Godfrey, Ninth Cavalry, commandant of the school of application, was submitted to the War Department for approval, and the training school was established in 1905. The school was placed in charge of Captain Murray, and two civilians were employed to assist in conducting the theoretical and practical instruction of the students. The course of instruction covers a period of four months. Two classes of bakers and two of cooks are continuously under instruction, a new class of bakers or cooks enter- ing on the fifteenth of each month. They are detailed from recruiting depots, and, after completing the course, are assigned by the War Department to regiments or posts where their services are most needed. Thus, the number of competent bakers and cooks in the army is being constantly augniented by the graduates of the school, to a sufficient extent, it is believed, to offset the losses due to discharges, desertions, and other causes. The course of instruction for bakers includes: setting sponges and dough-making; machine process; scaling and molding dough; making bread by hand; making head and stock yeasts from flom*, hops, and the like; making potato ferments; hand-made bread, using head and stock yeasts and potato ferment; different processes of bread- making; actual practice in separate methods; baking in different patterns of portable and field ovens; field expe- 226 Public Service dients; making Vienna bread, rolls, buns, and other loaves, and general methods of cake-baking. Each stu- dent also receives theoretical and practical instruction in the keeping of bakery accounts, the issue and sale of flour and bread, and in the general duties of a chief baker. This course is very thorough, and already many men who have entered the school without any knowledge of the principles or practice of baking, have proven them- selves, by practical demonstration, to be expert bakers at the end of their term of instruction. At specified hours of the day the students in cookery assemble in the classroom where they receive the theo- retical lectures, and on the following day these lectures are illustrated by practical demonstrations given by the instructors in the kitchens of the organizations stationed at the post. The program of instruction for cooks, which is rigidly adhered to, gives a clear idea of what they are taught: FIRST MONTH. First Week: The army range and its equipment. Fires. Control of heat. Cleaning and care of kitchen utensils. Paring potatoes. Washing and preparing fresh vegetables. Preliminary instruction in the prepara- tion of other parts of the army ration for the noon meal only. Second and Third Weeks: Meats: cutting the hind or fore quarter for specific kinds of cooking; trimming and preparation. Assisting in pre- paring other parts of the army ration for breakfast and dinner only. Fourth Week: Assisting in the preparation and cooking of dinner and supper only. SECOND MONTH. First and Second Weeks: General cooking, covering all parts of the army ration. Alternating daily, by roster, in the preparation and cooking of breakfast and supper. Assisting the organization cook in the prepara- tion of dinner Third and Fourth Weeks: Alternating daily, by roster, in the prepar- ation and cooking of dinner. Assisting the organization cook at break- fast and supper. Army Training Schools at Fort Riley 227 THIRD MONTH. Alternating, by roster, as chief coolf, in the preparation of all meals for the organization. Making hght breads, pastry, and puddings. FOURTH MONTH. Review of the work of preceding months, as a theoretical and practical test of proficiency and economy. Advantage will be taken of practice marches of the organizations of the command, for practical instruction in cooking in the field. Throughout the course, lectures will be given on the army ration gen- erally and on each pai't individually, on meat cuts, the curing of meats, how to draw rations, quantities of the different articles of the ration required for any given number of men, the field range, cooking in the field, etc. The Training School for Farriers and Horseshoers was estabhshed by the War Department in 1902, and was opened on January 25, 1903. Captain Walter C. Short, Thirteenth Cavalry, one of the most expert practical horsemen in the United States Army, was placed in charge of the school, and under his direction it has made unexampled progress. A condemned shed for shoeing shop, an abandoned stable for a veterinary hospital and classroom, and a few old forges and tools, constituted the plant of the school when it was opened, its students being attached to the various organizations of the post for quarters and messing. Its value to the service soon became apparent, and facilities were promptly provided. It now has a fine building which contains quarters for one hundred and twenty men, recitation rooms, an oper- ating room, offices, Ubrary, bilUard room, and bath and toilet rooms. A new shoeing shop was completed in 1910, probably the most complete of its kind in existence, equipped with twenty steel forges, anvils, benches, lockers, and every possible convenience and facility for instruction. The veterinary hospital which was recently built is a structiire 228 Public Service that will be a model of its kind, containing isolation, insect- proof, and various other kinds of stalls, an operating room, a dispensary, and rooms with baths for the at- tendants. The senior instructor in farriery is Veterinarian Alex- ander Plummer, Foxu-th Cavalry, who has been detached from his regiment and detailed by the War Department for this duty. He is assisted by the veterinarians stationed at the post. The senior instructor in horseshoeing is Eugene A. Dowd, D.V.S., who has two assistants, one a civilian horseshoer and the other an enlisted man. In this training school there are two terms annually of four months each: February 15 to June 15, and July 15 to November 15. The classes are composed of specially recommended enlisted men detached from the various organizations of the mounted service serving within the continental limits of the United States, and of specially selected recruits detailed from recruiting depots. Each class contains about one hundred and ten men, half of whom take the course in farriery and the other half the coiu-se in horseshoeing. After completing the course, those detailed from the service are returned to duty with their organization, and the recruits are assigned by the War Department, usually to regiments serving in our insular possessions. The farriers are instructed in the anatomy and physi- ology of the horse; causes and treatment of diseases; treatment of dislocations, fractm-es, and v.'ounds ; weights and measm-es; administration of medicines; first aid to the sick and injured; and stable management of the sick and injured. It is not to be inferred that the students are graduated as professional veterinarians; but their instruction and training is such that they are capable of treating the simple ailments of the horse and of caring Army Training Schools at Fort Riley 229 for the sick horses of their organizations, under the super- vision of the army veterinarians. Thus, they bear about the same relation to the veterinarians as the trained nurse bears to the practicing physician or surgeon. The principal textbook is "The Army Horse in Accident and Disease," written by Veterinarian Alexander Plummer, Fourth Cavalry, and Veterinarian Richard H. Power, Artillery Corps, instructors in the school. This book is now undergoing revision to be republished with important additions to the text and with full-page illustrations. Students in horseshoeing are instructed in the anatomy and physiology of the horse's foot, the different kinds and uses of horseshoers' tools, the shoeing of the sound foot, shoeing to change gaits and to correct faults in gaits, and pathological shoeing as an aid in the treatment of the diseased foot. The textbook used is called "The Army Horseshoer." It was written by the instructors, and has just recently been printed by the School of Application for Cavalry and Field Artillery. The sub- ject is treated in a manner clear enough for the enlisted men to understand, and the book is profusely illustrated with full-page engravings. In the practical examination at the end of the course, each student who receives a certificate of proficiency must demonstrate that he can properly shoe horses under the various conditions of health and disease. The effi- ciency of the work of the instructors is shown by the fact that but few of the students fail to pass the examination. The graduates are sent to their organizations with a very thorough knowledge of the work and a fair degree of manual skill. A ionr months' course, during which much of the time is devoted to theoretical instruction, is not sufficient to make rapid workmen of the students; but they go back to their organizations and enter upon the 230 Public Service work of shoeing from three to six horses a day, and soon acquire, by practice, the dexterity necessary to speed. Over a hundred competent horseshoers are thus dis- tributed annually among the various organizations of the mounted ser\ace. The great value of these training schools to the United States Army is attested by the enthusiastic praise ten- dered by the army officers who have received graduates of the schools into the organizations under their command. Experimental in nature at their beginning, they have become necessities, reflecting great credit upon the officers in charge, who by their zealous efforts have made the schools sources of reUef, both to the soldier and his horse, from incompetence where competence is most needed. THE LIFE OF AN ENLISTED SOLDIER IN THE UNITED STATES ARMY By lieutenant-colonel ALFRED REYNOLDS JHE description of the soldier's life in our army necessarily begins with the steps to be taken by any young man who desires to become a soldier. This description applies particularly to the infantry soldier, but may be consid- ered applicable to soldiers in all branches of the service, with the exception of the mounted troops who have the additional care of horses and their equipments. The conditions the soldier must fulfill, the pay he will get, and the term of service are as follows : Applicants for enlistment must be between twenty- one and thirty-five years of age. They must be unmar- ried and of good antecedents and habits and free from bodily defects and diseases. They must be citizens of the United States, or have declared their intention to become citizens, and must be able to speak, read, and write the English language. The pay of the private is thirteen dollars a month, and all soldiers receive in addition to their pay, rations, clothing, fuel, bedding, medicines and medical attend- ance, and an increase of one dollar a month for their third year, and if they reenlist within three months from date of discharge, two dollars a month for their fourth year, and three dollars a month for their fifth year; that is, thirteen dollars a month during the first two years, fourteen dollars the third year, fifteen dollars the fourth year, and sixteen dollars the last year. 231 232 Public Service Supposing a soldier reenlists, he has in addition two dollars a month, after having served five years, untU his enlistment expires, and for every subsequent five years of continuous service a dollar more is added to his monthly pay. If at any time he shall be on duty in Alaska or the Philippine Islands his pay is increased twenty per cent. After thirty years' service he is entitled to be retired, and upon retirement to receive three-fourths of the pay he is drawing, and commutation of nine dollars and a half per month for allowances of clothing and subsistence. If he should become infirm during the twenty years' service or have to be discharged for wounds received or sickness brought on in service he is entitled to enter a comfortable Home which is maintained near Washington City. Twelve and a haK cents a month is deducted from each soldier's pay to be applied toward the support of this Home. The allowance for clothing for three years is about one hundred and sixty-two dollars. By care and econ- omy the soldier can save from this from fifty to seventy- five dollars. When a soldier is discharged a settlement is made with him on what are called "final statements," whereby he gets all the pay due him and whatever he may have saved from his clothing allowance, and, in addition, travel money to carry him to the place where he enlisted. There are many recruiting stations throughout the country where a man may present himself for enlistment. If he passes a satisfactory examination he will be accepted by the officer in charge and duly sworn into the service of the United States. HaAdng been sworn in, he will soon receive a portion of his uniform and after a few days be sent to what are called rendezvous. Having reached Life of an Enlisted Soldier 233 the depot, he will be assigned to one of the depot companies and his instruction in the duties of a soldier will begin. Enlistments are sometimes made for particular regi- ments, in which case the recruit is sent directly to the regiment, where he will receive his clothing, and other perquisites, and be taught his duties in the same manner as if he had gone to a rendezvous. Having been assigned to a company, the recruit will now be taken to the company quarters, where he will receive his bed and bedding and will be shown where to place them in the squad room. The squad room will now be his sleeping and living room in common with his companions until he leaves to join his regiment. Instruction of all kinds will occupy a large portion of the recruit's time. He will be instructed how to fold and care for his bedding and clothing, to keep his bed and that portion of the squad room about it in order, and in the barrack rules to be observed. During three hours each day, except Saturday and Sunday, he will be instructed in the drill regulations by noncommissioned officers. This is the hardest part of the life at the rendezvous, but as soon as the recruit is proficient in one part of the drill he is passed on to the next portion, so that there is a great deal to retain the interest of the man who is anxious to learn. On Saturdays there will be the regular inspection of the company by the company officer, for which every- thing must be put in the best order. This inspection lasts about one hour, after which the recruit will be free until "Retreat" or sunset. On certain days there is usually "General police" or 234 Public Service cleaning up the grounds and surroundings of the garrison, which is participated in by all hands. The recruit's daily duties then will be to get up at " Reveille," generally about six o'clock, put his bedding in order and assist in policing the squad room; half an horn- after he will get breakfast; one or two hours' drill during the morning; dinner at noon; one or two hours' drill in the afternoon, and parade at sunset. Four times a week he will hear a lecture on various military subjects pertaining particularly to the soldier's rights, duties, and the like. The evenings he will have to himself until eleven o'clock, at which time, unless he has permission to be absent, he will have to be in his bed. If he chooses he may attend school in the evening, otherwise he is free to spend the time as he pleases, either in or out of the garrison; he will also, in spare time, be taught how to put and keep everything pertaining to him- self in neat order; how to take care of his arms, belt, and other equipment. After a month has passed he will begin to take his turn at the important duty of going on guard, and at the end of three months he becomes available for assignment to a regiment, and will be shortly sent to it, together with others; or, in case he is the only one, by himself. On arrival at the depot each recruit is allowed a credit of three dollars at the commissary store, which is deducted from his pay; with this he is expected to buy such necessaries as a brush and comb, a piece of soap, a couple of towels, a button stick and brush for polishing his buttons, and brushes and blacking for his shoes. These are all he needs, as everything else is furnished by the Government. It may be well to mention here that it is not necessary to have more than a suit of clothes and a change of underclothing on joining. When the recruit reaches the regiment he will be taken Life of an Enlisted Soldier 235 by the first sergeant of his company to the company quarters, where he will be assigned to a place in a squad room, and be furnished with a bed and bedding, just as he was at the depot. Having at last joined the company which will be his home for the balance of his enlistment, it will be well for him not to be too ready to make advances to all his companions until he has seen more of them and has determined their characters to some extent, for he is now among soldiers of all ages and length of service, and there are always to be found men who, if they see a chance, will take advantage of newcomers. The sooner he can get into the habits of the company the more com- fortable he will be; so he must keep his eyes open and note everything that goes on in the squad room and about the quarters. There are lots of little things to be done in some par- ticular way which can only be learned by noticing how others do them. Soldiers are very good about helping one another, so the recruit need never hesitate in asking a comrade -who has served several years to show him the right way to do such things as folding up his bedclothes, packing his blanket bag, keeping his uniform clean, and the like. It will be well to mention here that soldiers rarely inter- fere with one another or force their company on one who shows he does not wish for company. If a man does his fair share of whatever work is to be done, and does his duty in other ways without grumbling, he can keep what company he may choose. It would be a bad thing for a soldier, no matter what his circumstances may have been, to put on airs and consider himself too good to mix with his comrades, but it is quite easy to be friendly with all and yet lead a quiet Ufe in quarters. 236 Public Service reading or writing, instead of joitung in witti whatever is going on of a less serious or quiet natiure. New hands in all callings have been and always wiU be subjected to more or less jokiag on the part of the old ones. It is always best to meet this sort of thing in a good-natured, manly way, and it wiU soon be dropped; in case of contiaued annoyance it should be reported to the company conunander. As the company quarters AsdU be the recruit's home he will naturally wish to know what they are hke. Almost all the companies in the army are quartered alike, so this description may be taken for aU of them: Each set of quarters consists matoly of one, two, or more squad rooms, according to the strength of the com- pany, a dining room, kitchen, and bathhouse or room, with a smaU room for an oflace, and one or more rooms for storing the company property. Each squad room has accommodations for from fom-teen to twenty men. The rooms are high, with plenty of windows and hght; the walls are plain, being either whitewashed or calctmined, and the floors are wood. There are usually one or more tables in this room, with chairs and benches enough to accommodate those wishing to use them. Every soldier is supphed with a good cotton mattress and cover, a pillow, two sheets and two pillowcases; his blankets he supphes himself from his clothing allowance. The bedding is required to be aired once or t'^'ice a week, and at suitable intervals sheets, pillowcases, and mattress covers are required to be washed; this the soldier does himself, or has it done at his expense, as is the case with all his washing. Every morning the room has to be swept out and gen- erally tidied up by one of the men who is detailed in his Life of an Enlisted Soldier 237 turn for that purpose as "Room orderly." Once a week the floor is well washed and everything cleaned up and made to look as well as possible. After dark the lights are lighted and allowed to burn until "Tattoo," which is usually about half past nine o'clock; the men, however, are not required to be in quarters or in bed until eleven o'clock. The dining room is usually furnished with two or more tables, the benches necessary for the accommodation of the company, and closets or sideboards for holding the tableware, and other household articles. This room is not for any other use, and everything in it is to be kept scrupulously clean, as likewise the kitchen, where all the food is prepared and cooked. These duties are performed by the cooks and one or more assistants, called "Kitchen Police," who are detailed from the men of the company in turn at frequent intervals. Cooks who, owing to their peculiar fitness for the important duty of preparing and cooking the food, are especially enlisted for the purpose and receive extra pay for their services. In the bathroom or house the men keep their hand basins. This room is usually furnished with a long trough, which is used with their hand basins for the everyday washing; it also has several suitably screened tubs for bathing. Plenty of hot and cold water is easily had from pipes or tanks conveniently placed. Whenever there are suitable workmen to be had in the company, there is usually a tailor's, shoemaker's, and a barber's shop, in which a competent man can earn con- siderable extra money. At every military station there are, in addition, a school, a post exchange, a gymnasium, a hbrary and reading room, and an amusement hall. The allowance of food for the soldier each day is three- 238 Public Service fourths of a pound of pork, or bacon, or canned beef (fresh or corned), or a pound and a quarter of fresh beef, or twelve ounces of salt meat; eighteen ounces of soft bread or flour, or one pound of hard bread, or a pound and a quarter of corn meal, and ample proportions of beans or peas, rice or hominy, sugar, vinegar, salt, and pepper, and coffee and tea, and one pound of fresh vegetables. The rations are drawn in bulk once in every ten days, or as often as may be necessary, by each company, and from them the meals, which are served three times a day, are prepared. By an economical use of the ration, together with the assistance of gardens (these gardens are vegetable gardens, in which a variety of vegetables are grown, the principal crop being potatoes) and the savings from the exchange, the plain ration furnished by the Government is very much improved, giving variety to the meals and an ample supply for all. On holidays special efforts are usually made to provide quite fine dinners, the usual bill of fare being increased by the addition of turkeys or chickens, puddings and pies, and the like, and such game as hunting parties may have brought in. It must be remembered that all this is furnished free to the soldier, and that whatever game he may kill, or fish he may catch, he is at liberty to have cooked in the company • kitchen. If any one happens to be away on duty at meal times, his share is always set aside and kept for him, and when he is on guard a good lunch with coffee is provided for him at night. Within a few days after enlistment the recruit will be furnished with part of his uniform — that is, with a cap, blouse, trousers, and probably an overcoat and some underclothing. Soon after he arrives at the rendezvous, Life of aii Enlisted Soldier 239 if he has no overcoat, one will be issued to him, together with a blanket, shoes, and such underwear and stockings as he may need; he will also draw a canvas coat and trousers for use when he is detailed for work which might soil or wear out his other clothing. When the recruit joins his regiment he will be fitted with his "full dress uniform"; he will likewise draw his "field kit" for use when out on marches, or elsewhere, which consists of a knife, fork, and spoon, a canteen and tin cup, a haversack for carrying his rations, a plate, and a clothing bag for soiled clothes, when in quarters. In addition to all these he will be supplied with the needed implements of war, rifle and bayonet, intrenching tool, and necessary belts and boxes for carrying his ammunition. It must be borne in mind that although these things are furnished the soldier free of cost, they are furnished for his use in the service; he is required to take all possible care of them, and is not at liberty to dispose of anything in any way. If he sells or through neglect loses them, he will be punished by court-martial. The clothing fur- nished is of good quahty, and, as before stated, so ample that with care a man may not need to draw it all, and so at the end of enlistment receive the value in money of what is undrawn. If, however, he is careless and ill uses his clothing, so that to keep up a neat appearance he is obliged to overdraw his allowance, that will be deducted from whatever moneys are due him at the final statement. The work of a soldier is subject to a great deal of variation, for when Uving in quarters he is, as it were, an inhabitant of a village or town, and as the conditions of life are nearly the same everywhere, he will be called upon to perform all the necessary work or labor which falls upon the individuals of other communities. 240 Public Service The country fiimishes the soldier with pay, clothing, board, and lodging, and in case of illness with medicines and the best of medical attendance, and in return therefore expects him to take good care of himself and his sxuround- rags; to keep everything connected with him clean, neat, and wholesome, so that when he has finished his recruit driU, and has been properly instructed in the use of his rifle, — has, in fact, become a private in his company, — the soldier wiU have a great number of different employ- ments; some of them come in as part of the daily routine, being taken ia tmn in regular rotation by aU the private soldiers; others, which can only be performed by intel- Ugent men, and being often posts of responsibihty or reqiiiring special knowledge, carry with them extra pay and privileges. The first case wUl be that of an ordinary soldier, leading the Ufe that the majority have to lead. As regards mere drill, he will have a decidedly easier time of it than he had as a recruit, not over two horn's each day, Saturday and Sunday excepted. After breakfast the day's work begins; if he is not detailed for either guard or fatigue work, the day's routine will be to assist in cleaning up in and aroxmd the quarters, which never occupies much time; drill for an hour or an hour and a half, and in the season, school, dinner at noon, and then perhaps another hour's drill, or school; supper about five o'clock, and "Retreat Parade" at sunset; after that he is free until eleven o'clock, when he must be ia bed. All the time he is not engaged in these duties he has to himself for amuse- ment, study, or cleaning and caring for his arms, and other occupations. Dming the target season, about three months in the year, his entire time will be mostly devoted to the duties on the target range. Nothing is allowed to interfere with Life of an Enlisted Soldier 241 this important duty, as it is desirable that he become an efficient rifleman. Near the end of the target season the company commander selects the best shot in the com- pany, due regard being paid to other soldierly qualities, and sends him to a place appointed, where he meets the other men, so selected, from each company serving in the same department. At this place the men enter into a competition with the rifle, firing at targets for places on the department team of twelve. Each man winning a place on the team receives a suitable medal and remains a member of the team until the next competition. These competitions are always held at important posts and everything is done to make the hfe of the competitor as pleasant and agreeable as possible. At the end of the competition he is ordered back to his company, and if he has not succeeded in getting on the team, he has at least had a pleasant trip and exemption from the routine of garrison life. There are other possibilities for distinction in this Une, which it is not deemed necessary to show here, except that if he becomes an "expert marksman" he gets additional pay. Suppose a soldier is detailed for guard duty, he will have been warned of it the day before, so that he may get his arms, kit, clothing, and himself in the best order. Guard mounting usually takes place about nine o'clock in the morning. The soldier for guard is marched to the parade ground, and after being inspected, together with others detailed on the same duty, is marched to the guardhouse, where his duties begin. This duty is in many respects the most trying and tedious, as it is the most important the soldier has to do ; but, as each one takes his turn at it, and has the morning after it is through for rest and recuperation, it can not be considered a very great hardship. 242 Public Service The tour of guard lasts twenty-four hours — from guard mountmg one day until guard mounting the following day. The chief work the men have to do is to look after the pubUc buildings and places, to stop and arrest suspicious persons found about, to take charge of prison- ers at work, and to give warning in case of fire or dis- tm-bances. For this purpose they have to walk up and down and aroimd that part of the garrison assigned par- ticularly to them, as may be seen at any place where soldiers are stationed. One man keeps at this for two hours, then another takes his place for two hours more, and he is in turn reheved by a third man who does the same; after that the first man comes on again, and so on, so that every man has alternately two hours' walking and four hours' resting all through the day and night. After a man has done his two hours' walking about, or as is called "being on post," he goes back to the guardroom to wait his next tmn, and while there can read, write, smoke, he down and take a nap, or get his meals, but he is not allowed to take off any of his accouterments or uniform, so that he may be ready at a moment's notice should he be wanted for anything. It can be easily understood, then, that a soldier who has been on "guard" is very glad to get back to the quarters and to feel that it can not be his turn for several days. These are the most important duties the private soldier has to perform, but there are many other emplojTnents which fall to his lot which may be mentioned briefly, as they have to be taken in turn by all the men. For in- stance, as cleanliness is an important point in the army, all the buildings and the siurounding groimds have to be tidied up every day, and the floors have to be cleaned, and perhaps the windows washed, the fires Hghted, fuel suppUed, lamps cleaned and fiUed, and perhaps rations Life of an Enlisted Soldier 243 have to be drawn, and if it is the season for gardening there may be work to do in the garden. All these duties are taken strictly in turn, which is insured by a list kept in a book by the first sergeant, who marks the date against each man as his turn comes round. The details for such work, except when skilled labor is required, are made from the men of the different com- panies as before, and while they are on such duties they are excused from all others. This duty is called "General Fatigue," and sometimes lasts all day, but never more than eight hours in each day. Private soldiers are often detailed for duty as bakers, machinists, laborers, carpenters, painters, clerks, and the like. When so detailed they receive extra pay, ranging from thirty-five to fifty cents a day, according to the kind of work. This affords an opportunity to a steady man to increase his pay considerably, and the advantage of omitting guard duty and many drills. For that reason they are not generally given to any but soldiers well up in their duties and intelligent enough not to forget them readily. We have now taken a private soldier through his every-day work, and it may be well to mention here the relaxations and privileges given the well-conducted soldiers, and it will not be out of place to mention also that the good things of the army, as in other walks of life, are for the good characters, and that as long as a man behaves himself properly he will have little fault to find with the rules which govern him, but when once he begins to get careless about his duties or to misbehave himself, he will find his life far from pleasant. As already stated, the soldier coming off guard has the following half day to himself. Sunday is a free day, as is most of Saturday. Men coming off guard are usually granted a pass (a written permission) to be absent for 244 Public Service twenty-four hoiu-s, and it is not unusual to grant such permission for two or three days at a time, and in that part of the country where game and fish aboimd, to grant what are called "himting passes" for as much as ten or twelve days. For the man who is fond of huntmg or fishing this offers a fine opportunity to enjoy such sport. Everything is done to encourage hunting, because it not only helps improve the company fare, but it also tends to make the men famiUar with the country around where they may be stationed. Each company is supplied with shotguns and the necessary ammunition, and these, together with their rifles and cartridges, the men are permitted to take with them on these excursions. They are also allowed the use of pubhc animals, wagons, and the necessary camping outfit. Fiurloughs ranging from twenty days to fom* months are sometimes granted enlisted men, when they are de- serving of such indulgences, provided their services can be spared. Soldiers are not allowed to take their arms or equipments with them on furlough, nor are they to receive their pay until they return, without authority from the War Department. On reporting back to their proper stations at the end of furlough, they receive twenty-five cents for each day they have been away, this being in lieu of rations; but if they fail to retiu-n at the proper time this money will be forfeited. The soldier is often called to take the field with his company or a detachment sent out to perform some duty, such as moving from one post to another, scouting, escorting paymasters, or trains, etc. When this is the case he of course leaves behind the comforts and con- veniences of life in quarters, his food becomes plainer, and he may have to sleep out in all sorts of weather and Life of an Enlisted Soldier 245 encounter hardships, but the pleasure of camping out and the many incidents attending such expeditions more than balance the hardships, and when he again gets settled in quarters he will find the trials and experiences such pleasant topics for conversation and discussion that he will gladly hail the next opportunity to get out and away from the routine of life in garrison. Let us now take the case of a soldier (still a private) who may be a good tradesman, carpenter, mason, or any other kind of a workman, or a man with a fair education, and it may be mentioned that even if when a man enlists he is not up to this mark, he may, by a little application and by taking advantage of chances to inform himself, very soon become a good scholar or improve at his trade. As in the case first cited, the pay will be the same, and in addition he will have plenty of chances of earning from thirty-five to fifty cents a day by being detailed for duty in some of the places for which extra duty is paid at these rates. So that if he is saving he will have quite a sum to add to that already mentioned. There is still another source of profit for the saving man; that is the interest on whatever money he may deposit in the United States Treasury. The soldier is allowed to deposit in the Treasury his savings in sums not less than five dollars. All money so deposited receives interest at the rate of four per cent a year from the time it is turned over to any paymaster for deposit, and can not be forfeited except by desertion, nor can it be drawn out until the man's term of service expires. The advan- tage of this is that the money is not only in safe keeping, but it also is growing larger all the time. A private soldier of fair education, who proves himself to be a good soldier by his conduct and aptitude for his duties, can with certainty_count upon being promoted 246 Public Service to the position of corporal (the lowest noncommissioned officer) sooner or later, and having once made this, the first step upward, he is brought into a position where, if he is ambitious and shows fitness, he can be sure that his worth and talents will be noted and rewarded by still further promotion. It may not come during his first enUstment, but it will in time if he continues in the right way. The next step will be the position of sergeant, and when this promotion has been earned there are possi- bilities for advancement to the important position of first sergeant of the company, battalion sergeant-major, regimental quartermaster-sergeant, regimental commis- sary-sergeant, and sergeant-major of the regiment. These last three positions are the highest an enlisted man can reach in the regiment. They are positions of great trust and responsibility and are only given to ex- ceptionally fine men. To attain them the aspirant must prove his fitness by a zealous performance of all his duties, honesty and fair deahngs in everything, and the display of all the quahties which go to make a good soldier. There are other positions in the army which are no less in importance than those just named. They are the ordnance-sergeant, commissary-sergeant, and post quartermaster-sergeant. These positions are in what may be termed the supply departments of the army and are given to none but faithful and well-tried sergeants, who must pass an examination as to their fitness for them before a board of commissioned officers. The quahfications necessary to pass this examination can all be acquired while in the army. If a young sol- dier desires to become a commissioned officer, there is provision for that also. After all the cadets graduating from the Mihtary Academy in any year have been ap- Life of an Enlisted Soldier 247 pointed second lieutenants (the lowest commissioned grade), the vacancies left over may be filled by such meri- torious soldiers as may be able to pass the examinations as to their qualifications for the lowest commissioned grade. In concluding this brief sketch of the life and prospects of the enlisted man it must be said that it was not written with the intention of enticing with fair words and prom- ises young men into the service, but to set forth the true stage of life in the army, to the end that any one with a leaning toward the soldier's profession may have the chances and possibilities of such a life fairly stated to him before he takes a step which he may have cause to regret, and with a hope that it may correct those who have hitherto misconstrued the character of the soldiers of the Regular Army; and it is also hoped that when con- sidering these pages they will take into account that the United States soldier is the representative of a conserva- tive body of men trained to uphold the laws of his country, even at the cost of his life, and that his devotion has enabled his countrymen to conquer the wilderness and to people it with happy homes, and therefore give him that place in their esteem to which he is justly entitled. CLARA BARTON, THE FOUNDER OF THE SOCIETY OF THE RED CROSS By LUCY LARCOM LARA BARTON'S life is before the world, not through any effort or wish of her own, but only through her having taken hold, with all her heart and with all her strength, of work that she saw needed to be done. Her labors have been almost unique in the annals of womanly endeavor, for their steady perseverance, for the wisdom, the cour- age, and the self-forgetfulness which animated them. She is a daughter of New England. Her birthplace was North Oxford, among the hills of Worcester County, Massachusetts; and the fact that she was born on Christ- mas Day is not without significance in her history. Her childhood was blessed with outdoor freedom and indoor comfort and peace, such as are known to the healthy, well-cared-for country children of our Cormnonwealth. The youngest of a large family, with many years inter- vening between her and her brothers and sisters, she was left a good deal to herself for amusement and occupa- tion, both of which she readily found, — going through wild snowdrifts or summer sunshine two miles to school, playing on hillsides, wading in the brooks, or scampering across her father's fields on any untamed pony she could find. So it went on until she was eleven years old, when more care fell upon her than often comes to so young a child. One of her brothers, an athletic young man, had a fall from the top of a building he was helping to raise. 248 Clara Barton 249 He seemed not at all hurt at the time, but the shock re- sulted in a long period of utter prostration, during which his little sister became his nurse, for two years scarcely leaving his bedside, day or night. It may seem strange that this wearing task should have been given to the youngest of the family; but it was characteristic of Clara Barton from the first to assume the most self-denying work as her own especial right. Moreover, she grew into her position through a natural fitness for it. Placed beside the sick man, as the little girl of the household, to fan him or bring him a glass of water at need, he became accustomed to her deft ways and fresh sympathies, and could not well do with- out them. And the child-nurse, for love of the sufferer and of the work of ministering, took only a half day's respite for herself during that long period. After the invalid's recovery, when Clara was about sixteen years old, having prepared herself in the studies ordinarily required, she began to teach in the district schools of her own home neighborhood, not shrinking from those where rough boys had been in the habit of forcibly ejecting the master. She had no trouble with her pupils, winning at once their hearts and their obedi- ence. Her services were in constant demand, and she pursued the occupation for several years, — during inter- vals of leisure assisting her brothers, who had become prominent business men of their native place, in their countinghouse labors. Later she went through a thorough course of study in Clinton, New York, and then resumed teaching in the state of New Jersey. In 1853 we find her doing a remarkable work at Bor- dentown, where there had been a strong prejudice against the establishment of free schools. She had been told 250 Public Service that such an undertaking would certainly be unsuccess- ful; but she agreed to assume the entire responsibility for three months at her own expense. She took a tumble- down building, and began with six scholars, making it understood that the children of rich and poor were alike welcome. In four or five weeks the building proved too small for the number who came, and the one school grew into two. The result in one year was the erection of a fine edifice and the estabhshment of a free school at Bordentown with a roll of five hundred pupils. It is but just to the authorities of the town to say that they insisted upon Miss Barton's receiving the salary she had agreed to do without. Her exertions here, added to the fatigues of previous years, began to tell upon her health, and she was obUged to rest. She went to Washington, where she had rela- tives, for change of scene and a more favorable cHmate. Just at this time, through the treachery of clerks, troubles had arisen in the Patent Office. Secrets had been betrayed and great annoyance caused to inventors who had appfied for patents. The Commissioner was at a loss what to do, when Miss Barton was recommended to him as a person who could be trusted, and whose clear chirography and aptitude for business affairs well fitted her for the situation. Her services were at once seciu-ed. But although her new employment was less fatiguing than teaching, it was not without its trials. Hitherto male clerks only had been employed, and these men did not hke to see their province invaded by a woman. They were perhaps the more displeased because they had brought her there by their own unfaithfulness, which could no longer profit them. They adopted the chivalrous course of making her position as uncomfortable as they could, hoping to Clara Barton 251 drive her from it by personal annoyance. They ranged themselves every morning, in two rows, against the walls of the long corridor through which she had to pass on her way to her desk, staring hard at' her and whistling softly as she went by. Miss Barton felt the insult keenly, but she determined to bear it for the sake of the principle involved. Day after day she passed through this ordeal, with ha- eyes upon the floor, seeing nothing of those two lines of indig- nant mascuUnes but their boots. Failing to oust her in this way, they tried slander, but signally failed, her accusers instead of herself receiving their discharge. She suffered no further indignities of the kind, and remained in the Patent Office three years, doing her work so well that her books are still exhibited as models. In the Buchanan administration her acknowledged anti-slavery sentiments drew upon her the charge of "Black Republicanism," and she was removed; but, being urgently recalled again by the same administra- tion, she yielded to her father's advice and returned. When the Civil War broke out, and the Government found itself involved in serious pecuniary troubles. Miss Barton looked about to see what relief she could bring to the situation. There were clerks of known disloyalty in the Patent Office, and she offered to do with her own hands, and without additional pay, the work of two of these, if they might be dismissed. The offer, though warmly appreciated, could not legally be accepted. But she decided that she could at least save her own salary to the impoverished Treasury, and she resigned her posi- tion, determining to find some other way of serving her. country in its need. And ways were opening before her in which none could 252 Public Service walk but with bleeding feet and a martyr's fortitude. Every energy was to be tested, every fiber of her loyal heart strained to its utmost tension. The departure of the Sixth Regiment of Massachu- setts Volunteers from Boston was a scene which the women who witnessed it can never forget; and there were naturally more women than men among the spec- tators. A look of solemn consecration was upon the eager faces of those who went and in the tearful eyes of those who said farewell. The very air seemed to breathe the joy of heroic, self -forgetting purpose. Clara Barton was in Washington when these soldiers of her own state arrived there from Baltimore, where the first blood of the war had been shed. She was among those who met them at the station; she saw the forty wounded men taken to the Infirmary and the rest quar- tered at the Capitol; and she visited both with such help as she could coimnand. On accoimt of the suddenness of the call, little provision had been made, in a regular way, for the himgry crowd at the Capitol, and she caused food to be brought in great baskets and distributed among the men, while she read to them from the Speaker's xiesk an account of their own progress from Boston to Wash- ington as it had been recorded in the daily papers. From that hoiu" she identified herself with the soldiers in their risks and sufferings. During the campaign of the Peninsula her custom was to go down the Potomac on the boats which carried provisions to the army and returned loaded with wovmded men, taking with her such things as would give them reUef and refreshment until they could be cared for in the hospitals. In this way she became a medium of communication between the soldiers and their friends at home, — she writing letters for the men and receiving > m s z n -< O > r r Clara Barton 253 such comforts and delicacies as were intrusted to her care for them. Not only was her own room soon filled with these contributions; she hired several spacious store- rooms, which continually overflowed. It became a serious problem how to get these things — the offerings of individuals, of churches, or >of town societies — to the persons for whom they were intended. As regiments were ordered further away from Washing- ton the difficulty increased. But Miss Barton deter- mined that if she could compass it they should at least reach the rank and file of the army. Meanwhile other matters perplexed and troubled her yet more. On her errands of mercy down the river she was con- stantly distressed at the sight of sufferings which might have been avoided could the wounded men have been attended to on the battle-field where they fell. They were sent up from the swamps of the Chickahominy, covered with mud and gore, in which they had lain for days. There was no relief for them, except of the volun- tary kind Miss Barton gave, until they were landed at Washington. While saddened beyond measure at this state of things she was called home to her father's sick-bed. It was late in the year 1861. He had attained the ripe age of eighty-six years, and this was his last illness, although his death did not occur until the following March. Sitting beside the beloved old man, who had himself in his youth been an officer under General Wayne, she talked with him of what she was doing and of what more she might do for the soldiers. She told him of her desire to go to the front, of her feeling that she ought to be there to relieve suffering and perhaps to save lives. It was a new thing for a woman to undertake, and among other dangers the possibility of exposure to insult was 254 Public Service disciossed, as what she most dreaded. But her father said: "Gro, if you feel it your duty to go! I know what soldiers are, and I know that every true soldier wiU respect you and your errand." And comforted by the good man's blessing, she re- turned to her post with Uttle anxiety about herself, but with a confirmed resolution to persevere iu the labor of love which she had chosen. It was not easy to carry out her purpose. At first she waited, hoping that influential ladies of the capital would take steps that she might foUow. But they only touched the matter sUghtly. Things remained much in the same sorrowful condition. When at last she did apply for a pass beyond the army lines she was everywhere rebuffed. Perhaps her youthful looks were against her. Officers could not im- derstand what this dark-haired yoimg woman with the keen bright eyes had undertaken to do and was so ear- nest about. But she persevered, although so discouraged that when, as her last hope, she stood before Assistant Quartermaster-General Rucker, she could not teU him her wish for tears. This kind-hearted man listened to her, sj-mpathized with her, and befriended her in her work, then and ever after. To his warning suggestions and inquiries she re- pUed that she was the daughter of a soldier, and that she had no fears of the battle-field or of being imder the enemy s fire. She told him of her large storerooms filled with suppUes which she could not get to the soldiers, and she asked of him means of transportation for herself and for them. Everj-thing she requested, and more, was cheerfully given; for the good Quartermaster had that in his own Clara Barton 255 nature which enabled him to look into the large heart and strong character of the woman who stood before him. Abundant means of transportation were fur- nished, and she was free to go to the relief of soldiers in battle whenever and wherever she would. In the quar- termaster's department of the army, at whatever point she appeared, her errand was at once understood and its purposes forwarded. The record of the good she accomplished during the war could never be fully written out, even by herseK, and in this brief sketch only a hint of it can be given. We may catch a glimpse of her at Chantilly, — in the darkness of the rainy midnight bending over a dying boy who took her supporting arm and soothing voice for his sister's; or falling into a brief sleep on the wet ground in her tent, almost under the feet of flying cavalry ; or riding in one of her train of army wagons toward another field, subduing by the way a band of mutinous teamsters into her firm friends and allies; or at the terrible battle of Antietam (where the regular army- suppUes did not arrive until three days afterward), fur- nishing from her wagons cordials and bandages for the wounded, making gruel for the fainting men from the meal in which her medicines had been packed, extract- ing with her own hand a bullet from the cheek of a wounded soldier, tending the fallen all day, with her throat parched and her face blackened by sulphurous smoke, and at night, when the surgeons were dismayed at finding themselves left with only one half-burned candle amid thousands of bleeding, dying men, illumining the field with candles and lanterns her forethought had sup- plied. No wonder they called her the "Angel of the Battle-field! " We may see her at Fredericksburg attending to the 256 Public Service wounded who were brought to her, whether they wore the blue or the gray. One rebel officer, whose death agonies she soothed, besought her with his last breath not to cross the river, in his gratitude betraying to her that the movements of the rebels were only a ruse to draw the Union troops on to destruction. It is needless to say that she followed the soldiers across the Rappahannock, undaimted by the dying man's warning. And we may watch her after the defeat, when the half-starved, half- frozen soldiers were brought to her, having great fires built to lay them around, administering cordials, and causing an old chimney to be puUed down for bricks to warm them with, while she herseK had but the shelter of a tattered tent between her and the piercing winds. Or we may follow her to ^Morris Island, to the attack upon Fort Wagner, where no one but herseK was prepared for repulse, and see her ministering to the men who dragged themselves back over the bm-ning sands that the sea winds blew hke needle points into their wounds. When asked by a friend how she dared risk in midsummer the climate of Morris Island, with its sickly swamps and shadeless sand lulls, the unconscious heroism of her answer was characteristic: "Why, somebody had to go and take care of the soldiers, so I went." It was the same story of coiuage and helpfulness and endurance all through the war. She was in many bat- tles, often directly under fire, but she bore a charmed life; for, although her clothing was frequently grazed or pierced, she was never wounded. At the battle of Antietam, as she stooped to lift the head of a wounded man, a ball passed between her arm and her body, enter- ing the soldier's breast and instantly killing him. As the conflict drew to a close and prisoners were exchanged, ^liss Barton received numerous letters from Clara Barton 257 the mothers of soldiers, who had willingly given their sons to their country, but who felt that they ought at least to be told what had become of them. She con- ferred with President Lincoln, whose great heart felt the necessities of the case, but who could not decide at once how to meet them. Meanwhile she was called home to Massachusetts by family afflictions. While there she saw it announced in the daily papers that Miss Clara Barton had been appointed by the President to corre- spond with the friends of missing prisoners, and that she might be addressed at Annapolis, where the survivors of Andersonville were received. Leaving her own sorrow behind her, she went at once to Annapolis, finding there that, during the three days since the announcement, about four bushels of letters had arrived, every one of them full of heart-breaking appeal. These letters continued to accumulate after the discharge of the Andersonville prisoners, and Miss Barton went to Washington to go on with the work, which, in her "hands, was sure to be methodical and thorough. She estabUshed, at her own expense, a Bureau of Records of missing men of the United States armies, employing several ' clerks to assist her. These records, compiled from hospital and prison rolls and from burial lists, came to be of great value to the Government in the settlement of bounties, back pay, and pensions, no less than to the friends of the soldiers, to whom, indeed, they brought often but a mournful satisfaction — the confirmation of dreaded loss. Miss Barton went to Andersonville and, with the aid of Dorrance Atwater, a Union prisoner who had been employed in hospital service there, and had preserved the prison rolls, identified all but about four hundred of the thirteen thousand graves of buried soldiers. She had 258 Public Service a suitable headboard placed at each grave and a fence bmlt around the cemetery. In aU that she had done through the war she had never asked for money. She had used her own income freely, saving, when friends demurred: "What is money to me if I hare no country?" But the work of this Bureau could not be carried on without large expenditures. She had aheady used several thousand dollars of her own, and there were five or six thousand letters stiU awaiting examination. This came to the knowledge of some members of Congress, and it was voted that Miss Barton be reimbursed and the means for going on furnished her, an appropriation of fifteen thousand dollars being made for that purpose. For her services then, as always before and after, she neither desired nor received pay; they were a freewill offering to her country and to humanity. It may be added that her income was almost entirely the result of her own patient earnings and wise investments. Her remarkable business facility might easily have won her great wealth; but she preferred to be rich in the most royal way, — that of doing good. At this Bureau she continued four years, giving mean- while to large audiences east and west her thr illin g war reminiscences. But her army labors were not yet ended. There was service, for humanity awaiting her in another hemisphere. There is nothing in the divine ordering of human lives more beautiful than the way in which opportunities to do noble work grow out of similar work which has aheady been faithfully done. Life is no longer fragmentarv-, every part has meaning and unity, and the toiler goes thank- fully on through the broader activities and into the deeper consecration, developing always a less seK-con- Clara Barton 259 scious personality but one everywhere more definitely recognized and honored. Even a careless observer can not fail to see in Clara Barton's work a unity peculiar to itself, — a work which grew out of her own character and which no one but herself could have done. Her labors went on in mind and heart and will, even while she was in the helpless- ness of prostration; for she was more than once obhged to yield to the physical reaction resulting from her unsparing strain upon her powers. But new work always awaited her recovery; new, and yet invariably a widen- ing and deepening of the old, as a stream, however impeded, swells to a river, its fullness flowing from the freshness of its own distinctive source. The autumn of 1869 found her seeking renewal of her strength under the shadow of the Alps at Geneva. There she was waited upon by leading members of the Inter- national Committee of Geneva for the Relief of the Wounded in War, who had for several years been doing, as an organization, what she had attempted personally and alone. The most striking feature of their plan was its wide humanity, which recognized in the wounded soldier the man only, not asking on which side he fought. On this principle Miss Barton had persistently worked in our Civil War, although subject often to official reproof, and sometimes even accused of disloyalty to the national cause. The society these gentlemen represented had minis- tered to the wounded on many battle-fields, imder a treaty of neutrality for all who wore its badge and were doing its humane work. This treaty had been signed by nearly all civihzed nations and also by some not com- monly regarded as such. It had twice been offered to the United States for signatm-e, but no response had 260 Public Service been received. Knowing something of what Miss Barton had done for wounded soldiers in her own country, these gentlemen natm-aUy turned to her as one who niight be able to explain the reticence of our government. She could only say to them that she had never even heard of the treaty or of the society organized imder it; that the documents relating to it, being in a foreign language, had probably been passed on from one oflBcial to another, possibly unread; and that the fact of its existence was doubtless quite forgotten. The silence and seeming apathy on the part of the United States must have seemed the more strange to these philanthropic men, since the idea of their work had partly been suggested by the methods of the Sanitary Commission and of other hmnane efforts on our battle- fields dm-ing the rebeUion. The object of the Society as set forth in the articles of the Geneva Convention of August, 1864, was the ex- emption from capture and the protection, under treaty, of those who were taking care of the woimded on battle- fields, and also of such inhabitants of invaded territories as gave them shelter and assistance. It imdertook to care for woimded men where they fell, no matter to which of the beUigerent armies they belonged. The Society had agreed to adopt a uniform flag, which was to be recognized and protected by all beUigerents; and also an arm badge corresponding to the flag, to be worn by members in active service. The design chosen for the flag and badge was a red cross on a white ground, — simply the colors of the national flag of Switzerland reversed, that bearing a white cross on a red ground. The association took its name from its flag, — the Society of the Red Cross. . . . After the conclusion of her splendid work in con- Clara Barton 261 nection with the Franco-Prussian war Miss Barton re- turned to America, her health being greatly impaired by her tireless activities; through extreme physical prostra- tion she was for several years debarred from all exer- tion, but as soon as she was able she went to Washington, to urge the acceptance of the Geneva treaty, under which the philanthropic work of the Red Cross might be effi- ciently organized. The matter was delayed, apparently for no other reason than that it had always been delayed. No satis- factory response was received until the inauguration of President Garfield. From him it met with prompt ap- proval, and only the assassin's hand stayed his from signing the treaty. It received the signature of his suc- cessor. President Arthur, in March, 1882; and our country may know that one of its wisest, most humane treaties exists through the unwearying perseverance of a woman. THE WAR RECORD OF MARY A. LIVERMORE By ELIZABETH STUART PHELPS S far as the public is concerned, Mary A. Livermore's life began with her career in the War of the Rebellion. It was a grand history. A large proportion of the men we sent forth from North and South are in their graves; and the dead take no trouble to remind us of themselves. Those who returned to us are beginning to drop out of the ranks fast enough, and in the press of Ufe we do not turn to see who falls. Often the erect shoulder and the direct eye, all the signs left of the soldier whom we gave with tears and welcomed with huzzas, pass us with- out raising so much as an association with the sacrifice which we have accepted at his hands. The widowed wives and the widowed girls with whom the war saddened the broad land, are already "entering into peace" — that of eternity, or that of time, and if neither has comforted them, who stays to ask? Thus, too, with the army woman, she who did what the rest of us desired, and carried woman- hood so soldierly, yet right womanly, to the very front of war — how more than easy we have found it to forget her in these prosperous years! How once we honored her, sought her, envied and loved her, leaned on her strength and hung on her words! How frivolous seemed our idle lives beside her own, how small our motives and poor our achievement; above and beyond all else how great om* debt ! In looking over the record of the deeds of women in the nursing and sanitary service of the war, one is some- 262 The War Record of Mary A. Livermore 263 times blinded by tears that come from the bottom of the heart, at chancing upon some now forgotten name, some "ex-honess" of a once grateful public, who compressed into those four short years poetry, pathos, glory, and sacri- fice enough to make the staple of any dozen whole lives such as we are living, and are not ashamed to be content with, in these later days. Few women in the long, heroic list did a better, braver, sounder work than Mary Livermore. It should be remem- bered that she gave her clear head, no less than her strong hands and warm heart, to the emergency. "The columns of her husband's paper," we are told, "furnished her the opportunity she desired of addressing her patriotic appeals to the country, and her vigorous pen was ever at work, both in its columns and those of other papers open to her. During the whole war, even in the busiest times, not a week passed that she did not publish somewhere two or three columns at the least. Letters, incidents, appeals, editorial correspondence, — always something useful, interesting, — head and hands were always busy, and the implement 'mightier than the sword' was never allowed to rust in the inkstand." In an article of Mrs. Livermore's, published soon after the fall of Fort Sumter, we find this vivid reminiscence of those fateful days : — "But no less have we been surprised and moved to ad- miration by the regeneration of the women of our land. A month ago we saw a large class, aspiring only to be lead- ers of fashion and belles of the ballroom, their deepest anxiety clustering about the fear that the gored skirts and bell-shaped hoops of the spring mode might not be becom- ing, and their highest happiness being found in shopping, polking, and the schottische — pretty, petted, useless, ex- pensive butterflies, whose future husbands and children 264 Public Service were to be pitied and prayed for. But to-day we find them lopping off superfluities, retrenching expenditiu-es, deaf to the calls of pleasure, swept by the incoming patriotism of the time to the loftiest heights of womanhood, wilUngto do, to bear, or to suffer for the beloved country. The riven fetters of caste and conventionaUty have dropped at their feet, and they sit together, patrician and plebeian, Catho- Uc and Protestant, and make garments for the poorly- clad soldiery. An order came to Boston for five thousand shirts for the Massachusetts troops at the South. Every church in the city sent a delegation of needlewomen to 'Union Hall,' a former ballroom of Boston; the CathoUc priest detailed five hundred sewing-girls to the pious work; suburban towns rang the bells to muster the seamstresses; the patrician Protestant of Beacon street ran the sewing machines, while the plebeian Irish Catholic of Broad street basted — and the shirts were done at the rate of a thousand a day. On Thursday, Miss Dix sent an order for five hundred shirts for the hospital at Washington — on Friday they were ready." Mrs. Livermore, it will be remembered, was most closely identified with the work of the United States Sanitary Commission. Many a brave woman foimd her way, in the teeth of shot and shell and surgeon's opposition, to the chartered nursing service along the hues. Many a noble woman, sheltered in her own home, kept there, per- haps, to guard the children whose father she had sent to the front, served the Commission in the quiet ways with- out which no great imdertaking can be supported, — knit the stockings, made the clothes, picked the lint, rolled the bandages, packed the boxes, collected the money, — those "home ways" whose name was legion, and whose memory must not die. Mrs. Livermore's work seems to have been a combination of home, commissary, and hospital service. The War Record of Mary A. Livermore 265 At the beginning of the year 1862 the Northwestern branch of the United States Sanitary Commission was organized at Chicago. It was an influential body. Mrs. Livermore with Mrs. A. H. Hoge, a well-known army worker, were appointed agents of the Northwestern Conmiission, and went to work as two such women would. Upon them fell the yoke of organization — often the heav- iest of the load, in crises where the strain upon the sym- pathies can only be eased by a quick stroke and immediate response. Throughout the great Northwest Mrs. Liver- more traveled, arousing, instructing, and vivifying the people by the painstaking patience which is the final sign of strength in excitement. The Sanitary Aid Societies sprang up under her departing feet like shadows; the enthusiasm, the ignorance, the ardor and heartbreak of women were ordered and utilized, and so the great Com- mission, with the precision of the Corliss engine, got to work. In December of 1862 the National Commission called a council at Washington, and appealed to the Branch Com- mission at the North to send two ladies practically familiar with the work, as delegates to this convention. Mrs. Livermore and Mrs. Hoge were detailed for this errand. There was need of it, and of them. This was the time when sanitary supplies had fallen off, and the demand for them desperately increased. "One and one," says the Oriental proverb, "make eleven." The strength of union in the Commission, as in the ranks, carried the hour over the need, and the results of this coun- cil were felt throughout the land like an accelerated pulse. On this Washington trip Mrs. Livermore visited the convalescent camp at Alexandria, known as Camp Misery. Here, from improper drainage, from actual lack of fuel, clothing, and food, our soldiers were slaugh- 266 Public Service tered like slaves in an amphitheater. But here was one woman to "keep the count." When she found that eighteen sick soldiers died at that camp in one night, from cold and starvation, the country heard of it. Her unrest- ing pen flew to the help of the aroused Commission and "carried the story of these wrongs all around the land." Early in this year Mrs. Livermore was ordered to make a tour of the hospitals and military posts on the Mississippi River. This brought her into still more direct contact with army sufferings. One may doubt which was more to the purpose, among the wounded, home- sick, neglected boys, her chartered power to relieve them, or her womanly presence among them. She was a fortress of strength and a fountain of comfort. She was one of the rare women who know how to make feminine sympathy tell with masculine force. Her emotions never bubbled over into froth; they swelled a current of practical and practicable relief, as inevitably as healthy breath flowed from her broad lungs, or magnetic vigor radiated from her massive frame. Mrs. Livermore always worked largely, small motives and small results seem as foreign to her ca- reer as small feelings. One's impression in reviewing her army record is that she served like a general. She had the broad sweep of eye, the reserve of expedient, and the instinct of command. These Mississippi tours, for in- stance, resulted in an organized attack upon the scurvy, which was threatening the ranks to an extent unstayed, and even unknown, by the military authorities. Mrs. Livermore and Mrs. Hoge, having observed the mischief while serving as agents at Washington, kept their woman's eyes well open, and were quick to detect both the premonitory and actual symptoms of the dreaded dis- ease at Vicksburg camps and hospitals. They personally explained to General Grant the facts with which his sui- The War Record of Mary A. Livermore 267 geons had not acquainted him. But this was not enough. These two women did not shift the responsibility upon the shoulders of the man, but made, themselves, trips up and down the river, whose object was to arouse practical excite- ment upon this matter. Their appeals, their circulars, their enthusiasm, their persistence, and their personality resulted in an outburst of immediate relief. In three weeks over a thousand bushels of potatoes, onions, and other veg- etables were sent to the scurvy-threatened army, and by their prompt distribution the danger was averted. On one of these tours up the river, Mrs. Livermore dis- covered twenty-three sick and wounded soldiers, who had been left at a certain station with the most insuffi- cient care and not a loophole of escape by which they could get back to die among their friends. Their descriptive lists were with their regiments; their regiments were in the field; no one had authority to discharge them; home, with its last comforts or its desperate chance of life, was denied; a knot of red tape tied them down. Mrs. Livermore took in the case at a glance, and pre- sented herself immediately at the headquarters of General Grant. Without waiting so long as to take the chair he offered her, she hastened to tell her story in a few soldierly words, briefly intimating that she had chartered power from the Sanitary Commission, and adding : "General, if you will give me authority to do so, I will agree to take those twenty-three wounded men safely home." The General eyed her in silence — a tremendous look. Many and varied were the types of women who came down the river in those days on errands sometimes more enthusiastic than rationally available. Mrs. Livermore was a stranger at headquarters, and, as the officer's eye asked, "Is she lying?" the woman's eye silently replied. 268 Public Service When the mute duel was over, the General, still without comment, called his chief-of-staff. "This lady is Mrs. Livermore of the Sanitary Commis- sion. She finds twenty-three wounded soldiers who can not get home for lack of their descriptive Usts. She agrees to take them herself." Then followed the necessary order, which empowered her for her extraordinary venture; and as quickly as will could act she was under way with her twenty-three soldiers. Their homes were scattered all over the West, but the transportation service at her command was equal to the emergency and her pluck to anything. It had not occurred to her, however, that a power more silent and greater than the General could get her into difficulties for which he had provided no authority; and when, the first day up the river, one very sick man died, she had nothing more or less to meet than the fact that she could not get him buried. The Sanitary Commission, to which she appealed, through its nearest agent, was compelled to reply that its power dealt with the living, not with the dead; that it had no money for burying men ; that she must go to the govern- ment. But the government authorities declined with equal decision. The man was discharged. He was no longer a soldier. He was now a civilian. The nation could not bury civilians. So, back and forth in vain, from one to the other, the question passed. Meantime, the soldier remained unburied, and the cap- tain of the steamer, being Southern in his sympathies, as most of his calling were, peremptorily declared that if that man were not buried by simdown his body should be put on the levee and left there. At this, Mrs. Livermore, returning in desperation to the military authorities, be- sieged them by arguments from which there was no appeal. The War Record of Mary A. Livermore 269 Such an outrage would be the property of the newspapers in three days. The whole land would ring with it. She presented the case in such colors that the official yielded, and agreed to give the man burial, stipulating that the surgeon in charge of the party should fill out the necessary blanks. How tell him there was no surgeon in charge? And the fact was the last thing to be thought of — that twenty- three wounded men were in the sole care of one woman for transportation to their twenty-three several homes in the broad Northwest. The woman left the military pres- ence without remark, herself filled out the poor fellow's blank, — regiment, company, name, cause of death, what- ever items she knew, — and they were few enough, — and after a moment's desperate hesitation loyally appended to the paper, for humanity's sake and the country's, M. A. Livermore, M.D., — so buried her soldier like a patriot, and quietly went on her way with her twenty-two. Verify that title, Union soldiers! M. A. Livermore, Ma Donna, let her be forever ! Probably the thing most closely connected with her "army name" was the great Northwestern Sanitary Fair, which occurred in Chicago in 1863. This undertaking, in which, of coiuse, the labors of many women must not be forgotten in the prominence of the few, is conceded to have been the inspiration of Mrs. Livermore. She suggested, urged, and carried the immense experiment through. She supplied the faith, the will, and the fire. Her colaborers, at first timid and reluctant, fell in with her purposes, and the thing was begun and done as if fail- ure were an impossiblility and success a divine right. This fair was the first of the series of great fairs organized throughout the North for the benefit of the Commission. It netted almost one hundred thousand dollars. 270 Public Service A contributor to Dr. Brockett's "Women of the Civil War," who was present at a convention of the women of the Northwest, summoned to Chicago to consider the feasibiUty of that undertaking, gives forcible testimony to the remarkable influence of Mrs. Livermore: "A brilhant and earnest speaker, her words seemed to sway the atten- tive throng. Her commanding person added to the power of her words. ... As all know, this fair, which was about three months in coxn-se of preparation, was on a mammoth scale, and was a great success; and this result was no doubt greatly owing to the presence of that quaUty, which, like every born leader, Mrs. Livermore evidently possessed, that of knowing how to select judiciously her subordinates and instruments." We are able to give, in Mrs. Livermore's own words, a few clear-cut pictures from her experience as agent of the commission. This, clipped from a letter from Louisiana, in April, 1863, says: "As the 'Fanny Ogden' was under orders, and would be running up and down the river for two or three days on errands for General Grant, we determined to accept the invitation of the Chicago Mercantile Battery, encamped at Milliken's Bend, and try tent life for a day or two. So we were put ashore at the landing, and in the fading twilight picked our way along the levee to the camp. What a hearty welcome was accorded us! What a chorus of cheerful, manly, familiar voices proclaimed the gladness of the battery at our arrival! Forth from every tent and 'shebang' swarmed a little host of the boys, all bronzed to the color of the 'Altantic Monthly' covers, to use one of their own comparisons; all extending eager hands, . . . hearty, healthy, impatient to hear from home. . . . Here they were, 'our boys' of whom we took sad and tear- ful leave months ago, when we gave them to God and our The War Record of Mary A. Livermore 271 country at the altar of the sanctuary, when they alone were brave, calm, and hopeful. Here they were — the same boys, but outwardly how changed. Then they were boys, slender, fair, with boyish, immature faces; now they were men, stalwart, fuller and firmer of flesh, the fair, sweet boyish look supplanted by a strong, daring, reso- lute expression. . . . We told all the news, and still the hungry fellows asked for more. . . . We examined photographs of dear ones at home. ... A plain dress- cap fell from our traveling basket; the boys instantly hailed it as a home affair; 'it seemed natural to see it, as their mothers had heaps of such female toggery lying around at home,' they would have it . . . and the cap was accordingly donned, greatly to their satisfaction. "General McClernand's army corps is encamped at Milliken's Bend, and the next day we called at his head- quarters, and informed him that the 'Fanny Ogden,' laden with sanitary stores, would be at the Bend in the afternoon. He ordered immediate notice of the same to be sent to every chief surgeon of the regiment or battery, which brought them out in full force on the arrival of the boat . . . The pleasure was exquisite when we went to the hospitals, most of them miserable affairs, intended for temporary use, and beheld the grateful emotions of the sufferers. "Ale, eggs, lemons, codfish, condensed milk, tea, and butter were among the articles we furnished. . . . Many insisted on paying for them; they could hardly be made to understand that they were the gift of the North- west. In ward after ward we repeated the story that the people had sent these supplies to the Commission, to be distributed to the sick in hospitals. . . . This evidence of kind feeling seemed of itself to send a wave of heal- ing through the entire wards. . . . 'And so they don't 272 Public Service forget us down here? That's good news. We were afraid from what we heard that they were all turning secesh, and that we 'd got to pint our guns t' other way/ said one ^lissouri boy. "And here let me say, that in all my intercourse with our soldiers, in camp and field and hospitals, in the East, West, and Southwest, from the commencement of the war to the present time, I have never encountered the least disrespect in word, maimer, tone, or look from officer or private. Had I been what the sick men in hospitals have so generally called me — 'mother' — to them aU, their manner could not have been more wholly unexception- able. I can not nor do I beheve any woman can say the same of the surgeons. ... Of coiu*se there are noble ex- ceptions to this statement. . . . ^ly observations have also forced upon me the conviction that our men in the army do not deteriorate morally as greatly as is repre- sented. I do not beheve they are worse than at home." She testifies, also, that of the uncounted deathbeds of soldiers which she has attended, not one instance can be recalled where the dying man did not beheve in immortal- ity. Upon being asked how many such death scenes she witnessed, she rephed that it was impossible to tell. 'I wrote seventeen hundred letters for soldiers in one year." Among the men to whom death and life were such tremen- dous facts she invariably foimd the expectation of a world to come more or less clearly fixed. "There was none of this prevailing indifferentism: this 'I don't know any- thing about it' spirit; 'it may be one way, and it may be another; nobody can prove it, and why should I trouble myself?'" She also says, that of them all she knew but one who was afraid to die. This was a moving story. The end was near at hand, the man imcontroUable, not with physical The War Record of Mary A. Livermore 273 so much as mental agony. "I can't die," he cried. "I can't die ! I have been a wicked man ! A wicked, wicked man! I am afraid to die." He flung himself from side to side of the mattress on which he lay upon the floor. He tossed his arms wildly and writhed for relief from the soul-wound that hurt so much more than the mangled body. "He won't last half an hour," said the surgeon, "if he is not quieted. You must calm him some way." The best was done, but the raving continued unchecked. The man demanded a minister; "he had been a church member once," he said, "and that was the trouble with him; he must see a minister." With great difficulty a clergyman was brought, but when he got there he could do nothing with the maniac sinner, and was retreating, baffled, from^ the sickening scene, when Mrs. Livermore, who saw that the poor fellow was going, for want of a little nerve-control, to pass on uncomforted, and that all too soon, herself made a bold stroke. She got upon the mattress, kneehng beside him, and taking both his arms, held them like iron in her own. Looking the dying man straight in the eyes, she sternly said :" Now stop.' Stop this, the whole of it. You can keep quiet, and you shall. Lie still, and listen to what this man has to say to you." "But I 'm afraid I 've got to die!" wailed the terrified creature, "and I have been a wicked man." "And what if you have got to die?" rang the womanly voice which had melted over him so tenderly, now stiffened into the sternness of a rebuking mother. "Then die like a man, not like a baby! You 've sent for this nainister. Lie still, and hear what he has to say to you." Like a child in her arms the man obeyed; the tortured nerves grew calm; the soul gathered itself to meet its fate 274 Public Service and its God. The poor fellow listened gently and intelli- gently to the sacred words, and passed quite reconciled. Perhaps I can not better bring to an end this imperfect and brief account of ^Irs. Livermore's war record than by relating a beautiful story which spans, Uke a slender golden bridge, the distance between that glorious past and this earnest present, between the sacrifices of war and the consecrations of peace. Upon a recent lectiuing tour, in Albion, jNIichigan, jNIrs. Livermore was approached after the evening's lec- ture by an elderly woman, white-haired, and with a face that time had sadly graven. "Mrs. Livermore," she began at once, "do you remem- ber writing a letter for John of the One Hundred and Twenty-seventh Michigan Volunteers, when he lay dying in the Overton Hospital at JNIemphis, dm-ing the spring of 1863, and of completing the letter to his wife and mother after he had died?" Mrs. Livermore was forced to reply that she could not recall the case, she wrote so many such letters during the war. The gray-haired woman drew the letter with trem- blinghands fromher pocket. It had been torn at the folds, and sewed together with fine stitches ; it was greatly worn. !Mrs. Livermore recognized her own hand, and silently reread the forgotten pages. The first fom- were dictated by the soldier, as he lay dying — shot through the lungs. After the Hps were still which gave the message to mother and wife — those precious "last words" on which the two had hved for twenty years — the writer herseK had added to the sacred letter such suggestions as her sympathy wrung from her, in consolation to the inconsolable. "I think," said the woman, lifting her worn face to the strong one above her, "my daughter-in-law and I would have died when we heard that John was dead but for that The War Record of Mary A. Livermore 275 letter. It comforted us both, and by-and-by, when we heard of other women similarly aflflicted, we sent them the letter to read, till it was torn into pieces. Then we sewed the pieces together, and made copies of the letter, which we sent to those of our acquaintances whom the war bereft. "But Annie, my son's wife, never got over John's death. She kept about, and worked, and went to church, but the life had gone out of her. Eight years ago she died. One day, a Uttle before her death, she said : '"Mother, if you ever find Mrs. Livermore, or hear of her, I wish you would give her my wedding-ring, which has never been off my finger since John put it there, and will not come off till I am dead. Ask her to wear it for John's sake and mine, and tell her this was my dying request.' "I five eight miles from here," added the woman, "and when I read in the paper that you were to lectm-e here to-night I decided to drive over, and — if you will accept it — to give you Annie's ring." Too much moved to speak, Mrs. Livermore held out her hand, and the lonely woman put the ring upon her finger with a fervent and solemn benediction. TRAINING FOR WAR IN A TIME OF PEACE! By MAJOR-GENERAL LEONARD WOOD JHE ultimate object of all military training is the thorough preparation of the soldier for war. The final and highest stage of such training is found in field maneuvers partici- pated in by large numbers of troops operating over large areas and conducted under conditions simulating as closely as possible those of actual campaign. This t3T)e of training embodies in its thorough and intelligent appli- cation nearly all the details of the military training re- ceived by the soldier during his period of instruction, and calls for the fullest and most intelligent application to practical ends of what he has been taught. The demands made upon the general officers and officers of the staff corps during the maneuvers are severe, and closely simulate those of actual war. They constitute in many ways a very practical test of the general officers engaged, especially those in command, who are called upon to organize and transport, either by rail or by sea, large bodies of troops, and to assemble them at the point or points previously determined upon for concentration. All this requires much forethought, careful preparation and execution. The methods employed should be the best possible under the circumstances, as the officers and men of the command will remember them with a view to applying 1 By coiirteous permission of the Author and "The Outlook." Copy- right, 1909. 276 Training for War in a Time of Peace 277 them on some future occasion; hence, all work must be done in the most systematic manner. WTien so done, movements of this kind are easy and rapid; whereas when thoughtlessly attempted, carelessly executed, and done without system, the greatest confusion results, much time is lost, all appearance of miUtary efficiency and organization disappears, the men are discouraged and fatigued, lose confidence in their oflScers and feel that they are in the hands of inexperienced men, and the operations commence under conditions prejudicial to their successful execution. In movements by sea the officers gain valuable experi- ence in the care and handling of men on shipboard, and in weU-planned and weU-executed landings they acquire a knowledge and experience which will be of the greatest value to them in oversea or coastwise expeditions. In equipping their commands they must see to it that the troops take only what is absolutely necessary for the efficient performance of the duties before them, and leave all that can be left without affecting the fighting efficiency of the conomand. Once the troops are assembled, the problem is not alone to maneuver them, but also to feed them and look after them in many ways, for the troops are generally green and many of their officers inexperienced; aU of which means that the conomanding general or generals must give an imusual amount of attention to the care of the troops, and see to it that subordinate officers are in every way attentive to their duties. Company commanders of infantry are charged with many apparently small but really vital details, such as seeing that the shoes of their men are of the proper type and properly fitted, that the men take the best possible care of their feet, that their packs are properly made up 278 Public Service and adjusted, that their meals are properly served, of good quality and sufficient in quantity, that every proper opportunity is taken on the march to rest their men, that steps are taken to obviate as far as possible chafes and sprains, that in .hot weather every advantage is taken of shade while halting, that the men are cau- tioned and, if necessary, controlled in the use of drinking water. In mounted organizations the officers are especially charged with the detailed care of their animals, which have to be looked after as carefully as the men in the infantry, or else the organization soon breaks down and its efficiency is greatly reduced or even entirely destroyed. They have not only the problem of the proper care of their men, but also that of their animals. Both foot and mounted officers learn much about the art of marching their commands, of which too often they know little or nothing. Officers of the various staff corps, especially the supply departments, are called upon to perform their duties under conditions which are very nearly those of campaign. Medical officers are required to perform practically the same duties which they would perform in campaign. The sick and injured must be looked after on the march, and arrangements made to transport those seriously ill to the base hospitals. In short, from general officer to private soldier, all are called upon to perform their various duties under condi- tions as much like those of actual campaign as it is possible to have them without the destructive use of the weapons of war. Once the troops are assembled at or in the vicinity of operations, and the general features of the problem under- stood, the actual work of the maneuver commences. The Training for War in a Time of Peace 279 opposing commanders strive by all means in their power to ascertain the position, movements, and intentions of their opponent. The cavalry is called upon to do the work it would do ia campaign, as are the various bicyclists, patrols, scouts, and the like. The general officers are almost as keen to win as if war actually existed, for they realize that every move will be severely criticized, and that the general handling of the situation will be carefully studied, and their reputation affected accordingly. They also reaUze that their entire conduct of the operations, the method of supplying the troops, the means adopted for their care, and the like, all count for or against them. The same feeling governs every officer in the supply departments and the commanding officers of smaller units, and even the soldiers themselves. For gradually the feeling grows upon all that they are really applying the principles of their profession under conditions as closely simulating those of war as it is possible to have them. The people of the country are interested. They see troops working with the greatest seriousness, the magni- tude and importance of military operations are gradually impressed upon them, and they commence to realize, oftentimes for the first time in their lives, what the war game means, and to appreciate how important it is for the instruction of all concerned. For many years European countries have held very extensive maneuvers. In France and in Germany the number of troops engaged each year varies from eighty thousand to one hmidred and thirty thousand men. The game is played with the greatest seriousness. Large areas of country are covered. Every detail of concen- tration, supply, and movement is carefully worked out, exactly as it would be in case of war. 280 Public Service In short, the whole purpose of the maneuver is to do in advance, as nearly as it is possible to do, exactly what would be done if war were declared. Not the slightest detail is neglected. The way in which the commanding generals solve the problems given them is carefully noted. If those in command display marked incompetency, their military careers generally terminate with the maneuver period. Criticism is not confined by any means to the higher general officers, but it extends to every officer engaged, and his conduct of the operations assigned to him is most critically observed, and his standing and rating are largely affected by the results. It is difficult to overestimate the value of exercises of this sort for troops. In this country, where our regular army is only a hand- ful, wholly inadequate for the duty which it is called upon to perform even in peace times, and where the organized militia has so few opportunities for practical training, maneuvers are of the greatest possible value. MiUtia and regular general officers are called upon to perform duties which, in some instances, they have never had an opportunity even to attempt. They are suddenly con- fronted with the whole problem of organization, supply, transportation, and maneuvering of troops in the face of an enemy. They find themselves operating over an area many hundreds of times greater than the camps of instruc- tion at which they have been accustomed to handle their brigades and divisions. In place of the well ordered and supplied permanent camps, they find themselves called upon at the close of each day's operations to select camps which must not only be suitable as far as possible from a sanitary stand- point, but must also be well suited to the military situa- tion with which they are dealing. Each day's operations Training for War in a Time of Peace 281 brings them into a new country. They axe called upon to study their maps, to take into consideration the best use of the various roads, trails, and other means of moving troops and suppUes. They are confronted with the prob- lem of putting to the best military use the natural features of the country for offense or defense. In short, they are, most of them for the first time in their Uves, called upon to handle their commands under conditions closely simulating those which would exist if they were called into service in time of war. -When these facts are considered, the importance of maneuvers will be readily appreciated. All officers learn to use maps inteUigently, a subject they often know Httle about and have never had occasion to take up seriously. Map reading and proper appfication of the information con- vej^ed by good maps become questions of great impor- tance. The system of supply is tested, and the efficiency or inefiiciency of the supply departments is quickly apparent. In short, maneuvers are to war what fencing with the tip is to fencing with the unguarded point. Troops engaged do everything but wound and kill. On small maneuver fields, where the troops return each night to their camp, there is Httle demand made on the general officers for the display of the higher quahties of command, the demands upon the staff officers are reduced to the minimum, and the experience they gain is of much less value, as the camps are fixed and the movement of baggage and supphes, one of the most difficidt problems in war, is practically removed from consideration. The demands upon the conamanding officers of smaller units axe hkewise much less exacting than when the maneuvers cover large areas. Maneuvers on small areas are very valuable for small bodies of troops, especially 282 Public Service as they give a good opportunity for detailed instruction in the elements of field work, but they can not be con- sidered except as a preliminary for the final test of the troops' training, namely, their exercise in weU-conducted maneuvers covering a large section of country. To get the niost out of the maneuvers the troops en- gaged must play the game in all seriousness, and conduct themselves exactly as if confronted by a real enemy. They must scrupulously observe aU the rules of the game, and strive to carry out to the letter the instructions they have received ki their preliminary training as to the use of cover, selection of positions, security and informa- tion, and the like. They must obey promptly and follow unquestiontngly the orders and decisions of the umpires. When the maneuvers are conducted in this spirit, they have a value which can not be overestimated, for they embrace pretty much the entire field of the soldier's training. Our miUtia has had maneuvers at various times and at various places. As a rule, however, the theater of opera- tions has been too limited to obtain the best results or to give opportunity for the proper handling of large bodies of troops and daily study of country with a view to its employment to the best advantage by attack and defense. Generally speaking, after the first or, at most, the second day, the coimtry is so well known by both sides that the work has lost much of its difficulty and interest. Maneuvers should always be conducted with a definite object in view. That is to say, a situation should be assumed and a problem given. This situation and prob- lem should be thoroughly understood by aU ofiicers concerned. Every movement thus becomes of interest to them. It is also most desirable that the maneuvers should take place on ground which would probably be Training for War in a Time of Peace 283 the scene of operations in time of war, and that the prob- lems proposed be those which would probably arise in case of hostilities with a foreign power. All this tends not only to increase the interest of the troops engaged, but it at once arouses widespread interest on the part of the general public, which sees in the working out of the problems its practical application to the problems which would arise in case of war. They also serve to demon- strate the strength or wea,kness of the defenses of our great cities and ports, and to suggest possible remedies for existing defects. In the recent Massachusetts maneuvers the condition assumed was as follows: General Situation On August 10, immediately following an unexpected severance of diplomatic relations, war was declared be- tween a strong European power (red) and the United States (blue). On August 11 the (blue) North Atlantic battleship "Fleet," after a severe engagement with a superior (red) fleet off the Maine coast, was defeated and scattered; the remnants of the crippled (blue) fleet took refuge in Port- land and Portsmouth harbors, and are now blockaded by the victorious (red) fleet. Command of the North Atlantic Ocean has thus been positively secured by the Red fleet. Special Situation, Red On August 12 a portion of the victorious Red fleet left the Maine coast to report as escort to General Bliss, com- manding the First Division, First Corps, Red Army, designated for operations in the Boston District. 284 Public Service On the same date General Bliss received the following letter of instructions: Headqttaeters, Red Army, 12 Aug. '09, 10 P.M. General Tasker H. Bliss, Commanding First Division, First Corps, Red Army: General : It is reported that the enemy is concentrating militia and a small force of regular troops for the defense of the Boston-Narragansett District. Reliable information received through our spies indicates that the fortifications in these districts are too strong to be carried by direct assault. Our main army is already mobiUzed, and its concentration is nearing completion. Reenforcements will follow you as rapidly as our transport service will permit. It is desired that you take full advantage of the victory gained by our navy. To this end you will press forward as rapidly as possible, and land your command, and turn the enemy's fortifications from the rear. Endeavor to capture and hold a good base for subsequent extensive land operations of our armies. To seciu'e the greatest degree of mobility the transportation and bag- gage of your command will be reduced to a minimum. Captain Guhek, commanding your naval escort, has been directed to cooperate with you. Very respectfully, Leonard Wood, Major-General, Commanding. Special Situation, Blue. The main Blue Army is mobilizing as rapidly as possible, and Albany, N. Y., has been designated as its point of concentration. On August 10, General William A. Pew, Massachusetts Volunteer Mihtia, was assigned to the command of the First Division, First Corps, Blue Army, constituting the coast guard for the District of Boston. On August 12 General Pew received the following letter of instructions: Training for War in a Time of Peace 285 Headquaktehs, Blub Army, Albany, N. Y., 12 August, 1909, 11 P.M. General William A. Pew, Commanding First Division, First Corps, Blue Army, Coast Guard for District of Boston: General: It is reliably reported that the enemy is preparing to follow up his naval victory by making a combined land and naval attack upon our seacoast fortifications, at some point between Narragansett, R.I., and Portland, Me. One of our scout cruisers has reported by wireless that at dusk to-day a hostile fleet, conveying a number of transports, was moving south about twenty miles east of Cape Cod. He could give no further information as to the strength of the fleet or the number of the transports. Our mobilization is not as yet complete: our army is concentrating as rapidly as mobilized. No additional troops will be available to support you for ten days, but upon completion of our concentration you will be reenforced by our entire main army. It is desired that you advance to the line of Adamsdale, Attleboro, East Norton, North Raynham, Bridgewater Silver Lake, Kingston, not later than midnight, August 14, and that you hold yourself in readiness to operate against the enemy wherever he may appear. After reaching the designated point your further operations will be left entirely to your discretion. Very respectfully, K., Major-General, Commanding. The objective of the Red Army was the capture of the city of Boston and, if possible, such portion of its harbor defenses as would open the port to the Red Fleet and make it available as a naval base for such further operations as the enemy might determine upon. There has been a general feeling in this country that it would not be practicable to employ our militia or regular troops in large numbers in maneuvers in the thickly inhabited and cultivated portions of country, because of the damages which would occur, and other objectionable features. I have believed, however, that if officers and men were imbued with the right spirit and brought to appreciate the tremendous value of maneuversand the 286 Public Service absolute necessity of having them, if we are ever to be in any way prepared for hostilities, they would enter into them in the right spirit, and that they could be held with the minimum of damage and the maximum of advantage to all concerned. Acting upon this conviction, I took the matter up with the War Department and obtained its approval. The proposition was then presented to the authorities of the states concerned, and those of the District of Columbia, all of whom approved the plan and entered into it in a manner which can only be described as enthusiastic, and their support throughout was most cordial. The troops engaged were those of Massachusetts, Connecticut, New York, New Jersey, and the District of Columbia, and one squadron, Tenth United States Cavalry. The section of Massachusetts lying between Buzzards Bay and New Bedford on the south, Boston on the north, Plymouth on the east, and Taunton on the west, seemed, for various reasons, to be an especially desirable one for the exercises contemplated. Such maps as were avail- able were secured and others prepared. The selectmen of the various towns throughout the section in which it was proposed to operate were visited and the situation explained to them. Generally speaking, they received the proposition very well, although, naturally, many of them were alarmed at the prospect of having a body of twelve thousand or fifteen thousand troops passing through their villages and fields. The desirability of the maneuvers, the means which would be taken to secure good order and immediately pay for damages, were explained, as well as the methods which it was proposed to carry out to prevent forest fires, which were really the greatest danger we had to contend with, much of the region being forest. The section selected Training for War in a Time of Peace 287 for the maneuvers was well adapted for one of the principal purposes of the maneuvers, namely, to give to the people of the country an illustration of the facility with which troops can be transported by water, landed, and moved through the country for operations against one of our great seacoast cities, and also the difficulty of mobilizing a sufficient force in any state or group of states to oppose effectively a well-trained, well-organized, and rapidly moving invading force, landed suddenly on the coast, thoroughly prepared to move quickly toward a well- defined objective. Nothing save the enemy could teach this lesson better than the actual presence of troops engaged in an opera- tion of this kind. The people of our country are, as a rule, very ignorant of the preparedness of foreign nations, and of our own unpreparedness to meet effectively any aggressive action. We are too often told of our remark- able resources and too seldom made to understand our entire unpreparedness effectively and promptly to employ them. For, while we have a great mass of most excellent material, it is entirely undisciplined and uninstructed, and we have little with which to arm and equip it. Very few of our troops, either regular or militia, have been organized in brigades or divisions and given practical field exercises in maneuvers simulating the operations of war. Our general officers have been loaded up with petty administrative details, our troops so scattered and our organization so defective that operations of regulars and militia covering large areas have been almost unknown in this country in times of peace. Our people sit in fancied security behind our seacoast defenses, which are excellent for the purpose for which they were designed, but the general public is unaware of 288 Public Service the general limitations of these defenses. The most they can be called upon or expected to do is to prevent the enemy's fleet from entering our harbors or lying sufficiently near their entrance to bombard the cities behind them. If they do this, and are so placed as to compel the enemy to land at some distance from his objective, they have successfully performed the duties for which they were designed. But while efficient seacoast defenses add to the difficul- ties of an invasion, they are in no sense prohibitive. They make the enemy's work more difficult, but they do not necessarily prevent his ultimately carrying out his de- signs, which generally have for their object the captiire of some great city or port, to be used as the base of further operations, or for the purpose of exacting an indemnity or compelling peace. Most of our great cities, once the command of the sea is lost, are open to land attack, and for this reason our militia should be so thoroughly or- ganized, instructed, and practiced in real field work as to be immediately available for defense in case of attacks of this kind. The best way to impress upon the people the necessity for action of this sort is to demonstrate the facility with which an invading force can land and deliver successful attacks upon our seaboard cities. This kind of work emphasizes not only the necessity for an excellent militia, but for a sufficient amount of it to meet such demands as may be made upon it. The regular army, as at present maintained, is so small, so scattered, and so occupied with work in our insular possessions, as elsewhere, that very little of it can be counted upon to meet an emergency, and we must see to it, all of us, that the organized militia is much strength- ened and brought up to a standard of the highest possible Training for War in a Time of Peace 289 efficiency, and that the regular army is maintained at such strength as to make immediately available at least three full divisions in case of war. The success of the maneuvers depends very largely upon the work of the umpires. These officers should be carefully selected, and should be fully conversant with the duties which they are to perform, well up in the proper employment of the arms to which they are assigned, their capacities and their limitations. Their duties are ex- tremely delicate and difficult, and call for a quick and clear grasp of the situation, good judgment, careful atten- tion to all details, and great decision of character. They must keep themselves thoroughly posted as to the move- ments and whereabouts of the troops they are with, as well as the troops opposed to them, their strength, equip- ment, and the like ; and they should be, whenever possible, officers of sufficient service, rank, and standing to entitle their decisions to the fullest consideration. Umpires are intended to supply, as far as possible, the impressions and effects of actual war. Their decisions may be said to take the place of bullets and sabers (and other projectiles and weapons), and prevent unnatural or impossible situations. It is for them to decide whether a command has held a position for a sufficient length of time to intrench itself; whether the dispositions for attack are properly made and the attack so supported and pushed home as to warrant its being judged successful or the reverse ; whether the arrival of supports was at the moment to warrant success; whether the attack has made the proper use of cover; whether its fire has been of such a character as to warrant the decision being made that the fire of the defense was smothered, and the like. They must see to it that the maneuver exercises do not develop too rapidly, as is always the tendency; and they 290 Public Service must, in judging movements, insist upon an amount of delay which will cause the movements to resemble closely in their execution those of actual war. They must note carefully the conduct of the troops, their leadership, 'their employment of cover, their use of ammunition, their adjustment of the sights of their pieces to the proper range called for by the position. They must not only give their decisions promptly, but they must see that they are immediately carried out. They must divest them- selves of all interest in the troops with which they are associated, and judge each action solely on its merits, taking into consideration all the elements in the problem before them. The orders which they give to the troops should always be given, when possible, through the commanding officer. In a word, their duties are to take into consideration everything that is happening — the strength of the forces engaged, their position, field and volume of fire, pre- paredness for attack or defense, and to decide what would have happened had an actual conflict taken place under the existing conditions. Once having reached this de- cision, they instruct the troops to do what they believe would have been done in action. They may decide that the troops on the defense have successfully repelled the attack, that the attacking force has been badly defeated and demoralized, that it should fall back into a new position, and that it will take it thirty minutes or an hour to reorganize. Or they may decide that the position has been captiired with a portion of the defenders, and order the captured portion out of the maneuvers for the rest of the exercises. It will be seen that their duties are extremely delicate, and that upon their efficient performance depends very largely the success of the maneuver. With each army is Training for War in a Time of Peace 291 a senior umpire who must decide questions affecting several units of the command; and, as a final resort, is the chief umpire, or, as he is more frequently called, the general in charge of the maneuvers, to whom important questions affecting one or both armies are referred for final settlement in case of protest or disagreement among the umpires. When the umpiring is well done, the maneuvers can be made to simulate very closely the con- ditions of actual war, and the operations made of the greatest value to both officers and men. To this end the umpires should, after the operations of the day, explain to the officers in command of the troops in detail the reasons for their decisions; why they judged them successful, or unsuccessful, and the like. The umpire-in-chief should, whenever practicable, hold a critique, at which the principal decisions of the day are fully discussed and explained. Where this is not prac- ticable, as is often the case in large maneuvers, a full report of the entire maneuver, covering each day's move- ments in as much detail as possible, should be furnished to the commanding officers of the troops engaged, together with maps showing the position of troops, their move- ments, etc. All this adds greatly to the value of the instruction, and enables officers to take up the problem as a whole and study it carefully after the maneuvers are over. There are assigned to troops of each army officers of experience and ability as observers, who, in addition to the reports of the umpires, should note and report fully upon the general conduct of the troops, the way in which they were handled, the use made of terrain by the various officers, and the hke. These reports, wherever sufficiently explicit and detailed to be of value, should be furnished to the officer concerned, in order that the mistakes noted may be avoided in future. 292 Public Service Maneuvers carried out on these lines are, as stated, of the greatest value to both officers and men. The maneuvers held this year covered five days of hard work, commencing at five o'clock in the morning and ending at one o'clock in the afternoon each day. The interval from one o'clock in the afternoon to five o'clock in the morning was devoted to rest, and to readjustment, when necessary, of lines in compHance with the decisions of umpires when such decisions called for a change of position on the part of the troops engaged. The district operated over is an ideal one for field exercises of this kind. It is a country covered with forests sufficiently open for troops to pass through it whenever necessary. There are numerous lakes and rivers, small towns and villages, and numerous cultivated fields, cranberry bogs, large swamps, fences, and stone walls. It would have been difficult to find, everything con- sidered, a better section for operations, or one in which the opportunities for an intelligent application of the miUtary art were better. The inhabitants of this section were at first rather dubious as to the advisability of maneuvers. They feared extensive damage to property, possible forest fires, disorderly conduct on the part of the troops, and other troubles. At the close of the maneuvers the general sentiment throughout the section was one of appreciation of the work done, and there was general approval and commen- dation of the excellent conduct of officers and men. Very few complaints were made. With each army there was a board of officers provided with funds and blank receipts and releases. They were assisted by a number of officers detailed as appraisers. Each organization commander was required to report immediately any damage done by his troops. These damages were investigated at once and Training for War in a Time of Peace 293 a settlement made on the spot wherever it was possible, and in most cases the claims were sufficiently reason- able to warrant an irmnediate settlement. Whatever was needed by the troops in the way of forage or fuel was bought, receipts were given, and arrangements made for prompt payment. The maneuvers as a whole, in addition to demonstrating their great value from a military standpoint, have estab- lished conclusively the fact that exercises of this kind can be held in this country for a moderate cost and with a small outlay for damages. They have further demon- strated that the troops of the regular army and the organized militia can be depended upon so to conduct themselves as to warrant their extensive employment in maneuvers in the future in a settled and cultivated sec- tion of the country, such as is much of the country oper- ated over. The total amount allotted by the General Government for these maneuvers was only one hundred thousand dollars. This, in addition to such funds as were provided by the states, represents the entire cost of the maneuvers. The amoimt (one hundred thousand dollars) allotted was from the general allotment made by Congress for the miUtia, and no additional or new appropriation was needed. This amount covered the use of transports, rail and land transportation, wagon and auto trucks, extra pay, rations, rentals, and damages. It was interesting to note the partisanship of the people. There was a decided sentiment in favor of the Blue Army, and many amusing incidents took place illustrating the desire to aid the Blues and delay as much as possible the Reds. The result of the five days' operations was the advance of the Red Army to a point within striking distance of 294 Public Service Boston, and there is little reason to believe that the in- vasion would have been checked had the maneuvers con- tinued two or three days longer. The conduct of the troops on both sides was excellent. They entered into the spirit of the exercises thoroughly. Too much praise can not be given. Drunkenness was unknown. There was no disorder, no acts of vandahsm or hoodlumism, and I beUeve the object-lesson has been a useful one to the people of the country. It also demonstrated to all people who looked at the problem from a military standpoint the entire inefficiency of our available force to meet any sudden, well-organized attack, and the necessity of a decided enlargement of our organized militia and its thorough instruction and equip- ment. It is especially short in cavalry, field artillery, and signal corps. Too much attention can not be paid to this part of our establishment, and every effort should be made to stimulate and build up the interest of the public in the organized militia, as well as to impress upon it the necessity of a thoroughly organized regular army of sufficient size to meet, in conjunction with the organized militia, the first shock of active hostilities. In considering the success or failure of staff departments at the maneuvers, it should be remembered that these departments were all placed under the charge of officers of the organized militia. The chief quartermaster, chief commissary, chief surgeon, chief ordnance officer, and chief signal officer were all officers of the organized militia of various states. They were placed in these responsible positions, first, to give them a very necessary experience, and, second, to demonstrate by a practical test whether or not they were fully equipped for the positions they held. It would have been comparatively simple to run these departments by detaifing regular Training for War in a Time of Peace 295 oiRcers, but in so doing one of the real purposes of the maneuvers would have been lost, namely, the trying out of staff corps of the organized militia. Whatever mistakes were made did not result in any real hardship. The naval operations against the fortifications of Boston were extremely interesting and valuable. The artillery garrison of the Artillery District of Boston was strength- ened by troops from other districts, with a view to meet- ing the rather elaborate scheme of operations against the defenses which had been prepared. Unfortunately, a severe northeast gale rendered it impossible to carry out a great portion of this program. Sufficient was accom- pHshed, however, to indicate certain points of weakness and indicate the necessary measures to correct them, and also to demonstrate the great desirability and necessity of the frequent repetition of operations of this sort against seacoast defenses. It is believed that maneuvers on the lines followed this year should be of yearly occurrence on the Pacific and Atlantic coasts in those sections which would be most liable to attack in case of trouble with a foreign power. If this policy is carried out, our organized militia will soon become not only much more efficient than at present, but it will begin to realize more fully than ever before its real importance. Its officers will study the country over which they would probably have to operate in time of war. They will acquire most valuable experience in transporting and handling their troops under conditions most closely simulating those of actual war; and the public, once it appreciates the value of the work being done, will, I am confident, see to it that the organized militia and the regular army are given much fuller support than at present. THE MAKING OF A MAN-O'-WARSMAN TT3 HERE is a fascination about a life that fol- lows the sea, from port to port, from country to country, from ocean to ocean, amid ever-' changing, ever-shifting scenes, as compared with the quiet, stationary, though commendable, life in the factory, the farm, or the office. There is fascination about being one of the crew of a ship of the United States Navy; the Navy that carries the Stars and Stripes; the Navy that produced a John Paul Jones, a Lawrence, a Decatm-, a Perry, a Farragut, a Porter, and a Dewey; the Navy that gave birth to such expressions as "I have only begun to fight," "Don't give up the ship," "We have met the enemy and they are ours," "Damn the torpedoes; go ahead!" "You may fire when you are ready, Gridley," — expressions that will live in the minds of men forever. There are fascinations in a man-o'-warsman's life other than the spectacular and patriotic side. During the bluejacket's leisure hours (and he has many) there are numerous pleasures and entertainments to occupy him. There are fencing and boxing matches, concerts aboard ship every night by the ship's band, short concerts each morning during breakfast hour, dancing, minstrel shows by the crew's own troupe, use of the ship's boats when members of the crew wish to go sailing in the harbors, to visit points of interest and foreign ships, or to go fishing. There are football and baseball and boat-racing, for which the Government furnishes uniforms and racing boats. The Government furnishes fencing foils, boxing gloves, and 296 The Making of a Man-o'-Warsman 297 almost everything that will enable the bluejacket to enjoy himself. One-fourth of the crew of a man-o'-war is allowed to go ashore each day after the afternoon drills, whenever practicable, and may remain ashore until the following morning. On Wednesday and Saturday afternoons leave is granted immediately after dinner, and on Sundays, directly after the captain's inspection, with the privilege of remaining on shore until the following morning. Shore leave is regulated by conditions. Sometimes it is cur- tailed, while at other times even greater liberty than above described is allowed. It might be well to point out here that the civilian, working on shore, gets mighty few "days off." On board ship the bluejacket passes his leisure hours as best suits his fancy, — playing cards, checkers, chess, reading books of the ship's library, and, if so inclined, studying correspondence-school courses. Many crews have their own piano and quartet and choir, or their own phonograph, and some, even, have moving-picture outfits. The Navy Department does not wish to misrepresent the life of a man-o'-warsman. He must endure hard- ships, the same as any other human being, although it is believed that his hardships are fewer than those of the landsman. The man who goes to sea is separated from his family: this is not entirely agreeable. He is confined to small quarters, though he has more room than he who dwells in a city apartment. He is subject to military discipline, which is a fine thing for every boy, though many of them dislike it. He can not quit his job when he gets tired of it or when he is angry with his "boss." He has got to stick to his job until the end of his enlistment, unless he 298 Public Service purchases his discharge. It may be unpleasant at times, but it teaches a boy "stick-to-it-iveness," a thing for which he will be thankful in later years. Sometimes he must "stand watch" at night. This may prove irksome, but he is allowed to regain his lost sleep the next day. Then there is homesickness, which is a very painful experience, but the necessity of his enduring it will make a man of him and teach him to brace himself for hard knocks later in life. As to seasickness, well, many millionaires frequently pay large sums on "ocean greyhounds" for that experience, and most blue- jackets must endm-e it at first, but they soon get their "sea-legs." The Navy requires men of varied knowledge to operate its ships. It requires seamen to steer, man the boats, handle the anchors, and clean the ships; clerks, stenog- raphers, and bookkeepers to attend to its clerical work; nurses to care for the sick on board ship and in the hos- pitals ashore ; commissary stewards and cooks ; carpenters, machinists, plumbers, painters, ship-fitters, coppersmiths, blacksmiths, and boilermakers to keep the ships in repair, and expert gun-pointers and gunners' mates to man the guns. In order to get experienced men to fill all its require- ments, the Navy maintains a number of schools, or training stations, where each recruit is educated to fill a position in some one of the above-named branches before he is put on board a man-o'-wa". The recruit, now known as an apprentice seaman, on arrival, is placed in charge of a petty officer and taken before a medical officer, who examines him, physically, to see whether he has any disqualifying defect not de- tected by the examining surgeon at the recruiting station, and to see that his record corresponds with the enlistment The Making of a Man-o'-Warsman 299 papers. If he passes this rigorous examination, he is given an outfit of clothing, for winter and summer, con- sisting of uniform, shoes, underwear, cap, sweater, over- coat, oilskins, and rubber boots — in all amounting to sixty dollars in value. These clothes the government gives him outright as capital with which to start his new hfe. A tailor is provided, free of charge, to make these clothes fit him with tailor-made exactness. Having received his outfit, he is ready for instruction. He is given a stencil and marks his new clothes so that there can be no mistakes. A petty officer teaches him how to fold neatly each article of wearing apparel. When he learns the trick of it he will discover a strange thing — that a well-folded and well-rolled garment is as neatly pressed as if it had been done by a tailor with a flat-iron. That is his first lessoii in keeping his own things ship- shape. He is- taught how to stow his bag, so that every article will be handy and well cared for. From the start he is taught that neatness of person and clothing is a requirement that the Navy exacts of every man. He is given a hammock and taught how to sling it, how to lash it neatly and handily. His hammock is his bed, and unlashing his hammock is making his bed for the night. It is surprising to see how simple the whole process is, once the recruit has mastered ,the trick. All of this takes place in well-heated and well-ventilated barracks. The dormitories on the upper floors are fitted with hammock hooks just as they are on board ship. When these early lessons are learned the recruit is taught to swim. There is a fine swimming pool (with heated water for cool months) and petty officers are detailed to teach each apprentice seaman, by the aid of rope and tackle, to look out for himself in the water. It does not take very long to make a good swinuner out of the aver- 300 Public Service age healthy boy. In other hours of the day his drills and setting-up exercises occur. The walls of the drill hall are covered with represen- tations of flags of all nations and the signal codes. Wher- ever the eye looks there is opportunity to learn something. A huge compass is painted on the wall, in exact repre- sentation of the compass on board a man-o'-war. If he does not soon learn to box the compass it is his own fault. There is a "log" and a "lead line" where he can learn the "marks" and "deeps," and there are stages out on the breakwaters near by, where he is shown how to heave the lead. In the Model Room and the Rigging Loft the appren- tice seaman is taught how to make knots, to sphce ropes, to make hitches and bowhnes, to coil down gear, and to make himself a handy man about the decks. In the summer time he is taught how to handle boats, both under sail and under oars. Dm-ing all this time he is given good, plain food, well cooked and served hot and appetizing, three times a day. Long, clean tables stretch from one end of the room to the other. Cooks and mess attendants are busy iu the galleys (kitchens), alongside the mess hall, and the shining copper receptacles are filled with soups, meats, and vegetables. There is plenty of coffee, hot soup, potatoes, all brought in steaming, with appetizing odors which would appeal to any man, no matter what his manner of life at home. Having been assigned to a battalion, other drills are at once begun. The apprentice seaman is continued in the instruction of the semaphore (signaling with arms), is given the "wig-wag" (signaling with a flag), and is taught the use of hghts, or rockets, and other night signals. He is given a rifle and is taught how to handle it and how to The Making of a Man-o'-Warsman 301 fire it; he is taught the manual of arms and target prac- tice, all under warrant officers and petty officers, and in a way that oan not fail to prove attractive. Many of the movements of the drills are timed to the music of well- known marches and two-steps played by the navy band. There are target ranges outdoors and indoors, where the apprentice seamen are taught to shoot at a mark with the navy rifle and revolver. Their averages in this and all other work are recorded, and if their improvement warrants it they are made apprentice petty officers while at the training station. These appointments carry with them an increase of money and perquisites, two dollars and a half, two dollars, one dollar and a half, and one dollar being added to their monthly pay in accordance with their class. Apprentice seamen are given short cruises on small practice vessels in Narragansett Bay, Long Island Sound, and near-by waters, where, under a boatswain in com- mand, they are taught to put what they have learned in the barracks to practical use on board ship. These vessels usually anchor every night in the quiet waters and harbors, and the crews are taught the life on shipboard in such a practical way that when transferred to the regular service they are already largely prepared for the duties they are to follow, and can in no sense be looked upon as "greenhorns" or "landlubbers." By the time these cruises are over they know about hoisting boats, anchoring, getting under way, steering, boxing the com- pass — applications of their early training they could not get in any other way. They also learn how to make themselves at home on board ship. These small vessels are yachts, especially adapted to the purpose, and a boy must have sluggish blood indeed who would not enjoy this kind of an outing. 302 Public Service After foiir o'clock in the afternoon the time of the apprentice seaman is his own. He can devote it to reading, study, letter-writing, baseball or football (in the proper seasons), or whatever he wills. There is a very complete library filled with fiction and textbooks of every sort." If the apprentice seaman is ambitious, there is nothing to prevent his training body and mind. This course of first instruction usually lasts fom- months. At the end of that time the apprentice seaman is exam- ined, and if he qualifies he gets a rating and goes aboard a man-o'-war, with an advance in pay. The course is sim- plicity itself, and is so planned that there is no work wasted. It is a gradual development of the landsman into a sailor. The great improvement in the make-up, both moral and physical, of a boy is in itself the strongest recom- mendation in favor of enlistment. The petty officers in charge of each particular squad or company, and the warrant officers in charge of battalions, have been through just this same training at Newport themselves, and are especially selected from the service for this only; and when they learn to know each particular man under them, the apprentice seamen look to these petty officers for advice and counsel. They have been "through the mill" themselves, and so are qualified by their experi- ence to know just what the stumbling-blocks and pitfalls are. These petty officers are thoroughly impressed by the officers in charge of the station with the necessity of keeping in close touch with the thoughts and feelings of the men directly under their charge, especially the new ones. There is no swearing or rough language permitted on the part of these petty officers, and a petty officer, or any other officer, who should raise his hand against or strike a recruit, would be immediately court-martialed and The Making of a Man-o'-Warsman 303 dismissed from the Navy. They are always ready to give a wiUing ear to any who need advice or encourage- ment. The petty officers are taught that they are build- ing from these men the bone and sinew of the American Navy — a great responsibility, and they must set a high standard by example. What is true of the Newport Training Station is true of the stations at Norfolk and at San Francisco, except that at the latter stations the milder climate permits of a longer coiirse of outdoor training. The work at the other stations, while different in character, is the same in system and method. Men to go to the electrical school must be electricians by trade, or show aptitude for the work. They are given a thorough training in all that has to do with electrical work. They have wireless telegraphy. They work in machine shops and learn to make all parts of dynamos and engines. They learn to wire a battleship, or cruiser, as an electrician on shore learns to wire a house. They are taught all the "faults" and repairs of dynamos, and learn the different kinds of armatures. They know as much about a telephone as the electrician of a telephone company. The work is both practical and theoretical. "Faults" are put in the wiring of searchlights, telephones, bells, and other apparatus and the students are made to look for the trouble and find it. The man who takes the electrical course and is dUigent and ambitious is amply quahfied to take any job in the line of his trade, or in wireless telegraphy, should he, at the end of his enUstment, decide to return to civil hfe. The Yeoman's School instructs men in forms of clerical work in use in the Navy — bookkeeping, accounting, and simpler branches of mathematics, so that they may be able to compute the capacity of coal-bunkers and learn 304 Public Service the figuring of averages. Textbooks are furnished by the Department. A knowledge of clerical work is required beforehand. Talent upon any musical instrument is ^eatly en- com-aged. The class teaches the groundwork of reading music at sight, with exercises in plain waltzes, popular airs, and marches, until they are equipped to play in the company of the skilled musicians who compose the bands of the naval vessels. Men of the Hospital Corps who show fitness for hospital work after a short period of prehminary duty at a Naval Hospital, may be_detailed to the Hospital Corps Training School. This school gives the recruits of that branch of the service a first-class groundwork in the elements of practical and theoretical nursing, pharmacy, and materia medica. In the beginning the recruits are taught all the simplest forms of treatment of accident cases, first aid to the injured under different and trying conditions, ban- daging drill, the handkerchief, the tourniquet, the manual of the stretcher, the handling of the disabled with one, two, and three bearers, marching with stretcher, and hoisting and lowering, as on board ship, the sick and injured under different conditions. They study anatomy, physiology, pharmacy, materia medica, nursing, cooking, and are trained in clerical work. They are given typical cases of accidents and asked what they would do under the circumstances. The course covers about four months, and upon its completion a certificate of proficiency is given to those who attain the required mark. The artificers are taught the general construction of vessels, carpenter work, fitting, plumbing, and all matters pertaining to the putting together and repair of different parts of vessels in wood, steel, iron, copper, lead, and other materials. The Making of a Man-o'-Warsman 305 When a bluejacket has served his first enhstment, he is given four months in which to reenUst, with continuous pay. A reenUsted man under thirty years of age, with marks on his previous record aggregating seventy-five per cent of the total, and with good conduct record, is given an opportunity of a course of instruction in one of the seaman-gunners' classes. These classes are located at the Navy Yard, Washington, D. C, and the Naval Torpedo Station, Newport, Rhode Island. The class at Washington assembles in August and February, and the course is six months long, qualifying men for gunners' mates in all that pertains to the battery. Here he learns the assembling of guns, the breech mechanism, and every- thing to do with the practical part of ordnance, the manufacture of shells, fuses, and the working of electrical firing devices. He learns to take apart and put together all kinds of large and small guns. The course at the Torpedo Station is eight months in duration, the classes assembling on January 1st, May 1st, and September 1st. Here he is taught all that pertains to torpedoes and mines. He learns to assemble torpedoes, is taught diving and electricity as applied to ordnance mechanism. In both classes he has textbooks to help him, but works- in the shops as well. Men completing the course at Newport are given an acting appointment as gunner's mate in the third or the second class, according to proficiency. Petty officers of other branches of the service, who are sent to the class at Washington need not give up their appointments, but may leave the class upon graduating, as a boatswain's mate, electrician, quartermaster, and the hke. When he completes the course he should be a fine type of the young man-o'-warsman, full of ambition, ready to apply his knowledge, and capable of looking after the 306 Public Service guns of any ship in the service. With the certificate of graduation there comes a new confidence in himself and a pride in the profession he has chosen. The coiuse is intended to fit him to become, in course of time, as he shows himself apt and willing, a chief petty officer. This school offers to the men of the engine-room force the same facifities for fitting themselves for advancement and promotion to petty officers, and later to warrant rank, that the Seaman-Gunners' School offers to men of the seaman branch. Men in the ratings of water-tender, oiler, and fireman, first-class, are entitled upon their reenlistment to be sent to this school at the Norfolk Navy Yard. The coiu-se consists of a thorough training in the duties of a machinist, both on shore and on board ship. We have told you the life and duties at the training stations. Now we will describe the sailor's daily life on board ship, in order that you may know exactly what work he does, and judge as to its character. Reveille bugle call is at half past five in the morning, when all hands are required to turn out promptly, ex- cepting men who have been on watch dxu-ing the night. There is no taking a few extra naps, as the decks must be cleared of hammocks in fifteen minutes. Then fol- lows early coffee or cocoa, with bread or hardtack, if wanted, and smoking for half an hour. Then follows the washing of clothes, each man being required to wash his own clothes. At half past six all hands commence to clean the ship. The crew is divided into divisions, and to each division is assigned a certain portion to clean. For example, one man will have to clean a certain amount of paint work; another must clean a boat, while still another helps in scrubbine and washing down a certain portion of the The Making of a Man-o'-Warsman 307 deck. This is what is meant by a "cleaning station." The work is not arduous, as the stations are snaall, there being many men on board ship among whom to divide up the work, and, as the cleaning is done daily, it is not difficult for each man to keep his station clean. This cleaning must be completed in time to afford ample oppor- tunity for the men to wash and prepare themselves for breakfast at half past seven in the morning. Cleanliness and neatness of person and clothing are requirements which the Navy demands of every person in the service. Breakfast lasts from half past seven to quarter past eight, during which time the bluejackets may smoke and get into uniform. The uniform of the day depends upon the climate in which the ship is located, or the work to be done, and is designated each morning by signal from the flagship. At half past eight the sick-call is sounded and those who do not feel well must consult the medical officer of the ship. Also at this time the ditty-boxes and bags are put away and the ship is tidied up and put shipshape for inspection at quarters. The officer in charge of each division carefully inspects at quarters all men under him for neatness of uniform and general condition, notes all absentees, and reports to the executive officer, who in turn reports to the cap- tain. On Sunday morning the captain and the executive officer personally inspect each division. From half past nine to half past eleven the time is devoted to drills, with fifteen-minute intermission for rest. These driUs consist of: Great Gun Drill, In- fantry and Light Artillery, Boats under Oars or Sails, Signals, Collision and Abandon Ship, Fire Quarters, General Quarters, Clear Ships for Action, Coaling Ship. 308 Public Service Not all these drills are done each day, but they are changed to avoid monotony, and, to make them inter- esting, are interspersed with short talks by the officers of the division, or by an officer specially well informed on the subject under discussion. From ten minutes of twelve imtil one o'clock is noon hour, with dinner, and another smoke. At hah past one the afternoon drill commences, and consists usually of short talks on some of the subjects before mentioned, or instruction in sighting and firing small arms and great guns. This afternoon drill finishes about three o'clock in the afternoon, after which the bluejacket's time is his own until the crew is assembled for the calisthenic drill, which lasts about twenty min- utes. This drill consists of certain movements of the arms, legs, and body, designed to develop and harden every muscle. Supper is at half past five, after which a man's time is free, up to nine o'clock, excepting at half past seven, when he is required to get and sling his hammock. At nine o'clock the bluejacket must retire, unless there is a concert, minstrel show, or some other function in progress, in which case he is given leave to remain up later; or unless he is on watch. While these drills are supposed to occur only in the daytime, now and then the commanding officer will sound a call for a drill during the middle of the night. How- ever, this is rare. On Wednesday and Saturday afternoons there are no regular drills, and the man's time is usually his own. After the inspection by the captain, and divine services on Sunday morning, the bluejacket is unoccupied. The routine and periods of drill as given above are often changed by reason of the duty the ship is engaged The Making of a Man-o'-Warsman 309 upon, or because of the severe weather of the North, or the heat of the tropics. As has been shown, the work in the Navy is divided up into a number of different branches, i.e., the seaman, electrical, machinists', clerical, musicians', hospital corps, commissary, and artificers. Promotion in the seaman branch is from apprentice seaman to ordinary seaman, thence to seaman, thence to third-class petty officer, second-class petty officer, first-class petty officer, and chief petty officer. In May, 1908, Congress increased the pay of all enlisted men by ten per cent. When the apprentice seaman enlists he is immediately put on the pay-roll at seventeen dollars and sixty cents per month, although a month's pay must be accumulated on the books as soon as possible. After four months at the training station, he goes on board ship, if he passes the examination as an ordinary seaman, with pay at twenty dollars and ninety cents per month. After one year as ordinary seaman, he is advanced to seaman at twenty-six dollars and forty cents per month, provided, of course, he passes the necessary examination. After reaching the position, or rating, of seaman, he is im- mediately eligible for advancement to third-class petty officer, with pay at thirty-three dollars a month. After one year as third-class petty ofiicer he is eligible to the grade of second-class petty officer, with pay at thirty- eight dollars and a half and forty-four dollars per month. After a year as second-class petty officer he is qualified to be promoted to first-class petty officer, with pay at forty-nine dollars and a half or fifty-five dollars per month. After a year as first-class petty officer he is in line for promotion to chief petty officer, who, after serving one year creditably, can get what is called a permanent appointment, if recommended by an examin- 310 Public Service ing board, with pay at seventy-seven dollars per month. This permanent appointment is issued by the Navy De- partment, and is irrevocable, except by court-martial. That is, the chief petty officer can hold this seventy- seven-dollar appointment as long as he Uves and attends properly to his duties, even if he goes no higher, and no ofl&cer can deprive him of it. A chief petty officer who has been in the Navy seven years is qualified to advance to the rank of Warrant Officer at fifteen hundred dollars to twenty-four hundred dollars per annum, if recommended by an examining board. From warrant officer the specially qualified man may be promoted through the various ranks of commissioned officer; but the Department does not wish to convey the impression that an enUsted man may rise with ease from apprentice seaman to commissioned rank. It is possible, however; many enhsted men have succeeded after diligent application, and are now regular commissioned officers of the Navy. But there is excellent chance for promotion to the grades of petty and warrant officer. For example: A man is not compelled to wait until there is a vacancy on board his own ship. If he can pass the examination and shows himself quahfied to be a petty officer, he will be promoted and transferred to some other ship where there is a vacancy. Furthermore, there are always vacancies in the petty officer and warrant grades. Not since the Spanish War have all these grades been filled. A man's advancement depends upon how capable he is and how hard he is wilhng to work to capture one of these vacancies. The harder the capable man works, the greater his success, as measured by rank and pay. It may be supposed that most men enter as seaman and never get any higher. This is a mistake, as no man can The Making of a Man-o'-Warsman 311 stay in the Navy more than four years, or at the outside six years, without being promoted to petty officer. His superiors will force him to qualify as a petty officer, and if he does not he had better abandon the service. At the present time there are about forty-five thousand men in the Navy, and twelve thousand of these are petty offi- cers. Thus the opportunity for promotion will be seen. However, the recruit must not get the idea that he will advance easily and speedily, even to the petty and war- rant grades. Promotion in the Navy does not come any easier than it comes in civil life. A man must enter the service with his mind made up to stick to it as long as he lives and make it his life's business. If he does, and fights hard enough and fights steadily enough and fights long enough, he is absolutely certain of promotion, and in the evening of life he will retire with honors and the comforts of a substantial income. In addition to the regular pay, as described above, the crew of a man-o'-war has many opportunities to make extra money. For example : The ten per cent increase in pay provided by Congress May 13, 1908, is computed on the base pay, and also on all 'permanent additions, such as continuous service, good-conduct medals, reenlistment money, and the Uke. Thus five dollars and a half is added to the monthly pay upon first reenlistment, and three dollars and thirty cents for each and every additional reenlist- ment thereafter. In addition every man gets one dollar and a half per month added to his pay on each re- enlistment, provided he reenlists within four months from date of discharge. Still, in addition to the above, the man who reenhsts within four months from date of discharge is given, as a bounty, four months' pay. This is a considerable item. 312 Public Service Seaman-gunners receive two dollars and twenty cents per month extra. Every man who receives a good- conduct medal, pin, or bar gets eighty-three cents per month extra for each medal he holds; men detailed as cox- swains of launches get five dollars per month extra; men on duty in submarines get five dollars per month extra, and when quaUfied as submarine men can get an extra dollar per day every day or part of a day under water, not to exceed fifteen dollars per month; men in charge of storerooms and holds get five dollars per month extra; men serving as messmen to the crew get five dollars per month extra; men detailed as signalmen get one dollar to three dollars extra per month, according to ability; men serving as gun-pointers get two dollars to ten dollars per month extra, depending on the gun they are serving; men serving as gun-captains get five dollars per month extra; chief petty officers detailed as instructors at training stations receive ten dollars a month extra; men designated as Navy mail clerks and assistant mail clerks get from fifteen dollars to twenty-five dollars per month extra; ship's tailors get twenty dollars in addition to the pay of their rating, and "tailor's helpers" ten dollars. Men who especially distinguish themselves and are recom- mended by their commanding officer for some extraor- dinary deed of heroism in the line of their profession receive one hundred dollars and a medal of honor. After twenty years' service a man-o'-warsman, if phys- ically disqualified, may retire on one-half the pay he is receiving at the time he retires, and after thirty years' service he may retire on three-quarters of the pay and allowances he is receiving at the time he retires, plus fifteen dollars and seventy-five cents per month in lieu of rations, clothing, quarters, fuel, and light. He is not compelled to serve twenty or thirty years of continuous The Making of a Man-o'-Warsman 313 service. If he can prove that he has served twenty or thirty years, even though not continuous, he may retire as above stated. Service in the Army or Marine Corps is also counted. Time served during periods of war is counted as double time. In case of disability, the man-o'-warsman receives a pension,, depending upon the extent of his disability. This pension can not be explained in dollars and cents, but is sufficient to maintain him comfortably as long as he lives. In case of death while in the service, the man-o '-wars- man's family can apply to the regular Pension Office for a pension. The public, who are unfamiliar with discipline in the Navy, believe that it is so rigorous as to be unendurable. This is not so. If a man conducts himself on board ship as well as he must conduct himself on shore, he will not realize there is any such thing as discipline on board a man-o '^war. Each commanding ofiicer is required by law to hold divine service each Sunday morning on board his ship, whenever the weather and other circumstances will per- mit, and every officer and seaman is urged to attend the worship of Almighty God. Unbecoming conduct during devotions is punished in such a manner as a summary or general court-martial may direct. On many ships and at shore stations the Navy Young Men's Christian Association is strong and holds its regular evening meetings. Men are also allowed to go on shore on Sundays, when the ship is in port and cir- cumstances permit, to attend the church of their own denomination. Whenever the ship is in port, whether at home or abroad, and it is practicable for men to be away, fur- 314 Public Service loughs are granted to visit home or distant inland points. The Navy Department is liberal about furloughs. Deserving men can usually get all the "leave" they want. Their furloughs are calculated so as to give the bluejacket ten days or more at home, or at the point he wishes to visit, the travel time required in going and returning being added to the ten days. The men are required to pay their own expenses while traveling on leave. In a few years it will undoubtedly be more difficult to seciu-e an appointment as an apprentice seaman in the Navy. Recently the complement allowed by law was filled, and enlistments were practically suspended, until Congress authorized an increase in the enlisted force. The Navy's requirements will again be filled with honest, conscientious, capable men, who will make service in the Navy their life's business, and will constantly re- enlist, which will reduce vacancies in the training stations to a minimum. The public does not even yet realize the opportunity which the United States Navy offers to the ambitious young man. DOROTHY DIXi By PERCY H. EPLER jVER the central portal of Memorial Hall at Harvard University is set a small stand of the United States national colors. What patriot do they commemorate? What heroic act? What dear-won victory? What blood- bought cause? Not that of a hero, but a heroine; not that of a soldier, but a saint; not that of a fighting man in uniform, but of an American imveiled Sister of Mercy — Dorothy Lynde Dix. As a testimonial of that which she had done as it culmi- nated in her acts of mercy in the Civil War, what should it be? Should it be by Congressional vote a fortune of many thousands of dollars? Or, as tendered by the War Cabinet at Washington, should it be the ovation of a national mass meeting? Which, asked the Cabinet, did she prefer? "Neither!" "What, then?" "The flags of my country" were all she asked, and of such are the tri-colors at Harvard. Signal as is the distinction of this memorial to Dorothy Dix, under which daily troop thousands of the country's best young blood, and which, though that of a woman, heads the sacred mementoes in the hall of fame dedicated to the quick and the dead, it stands second to far greater memorials — memorials unspeakably grander than even 'Prom "Master Minds at the" Commonwealth's Heart." By permis- sion of Author and Publisher. Cop3rright, 1909, by F. S. Blanchard & Company, Worcester, Massachusetts. 315 316 Public Service this, for built by her work, thirty and two memorials (now grown to over three hundred) reared their roof-trees throughout the length and breadth of the Union. Twice did they break over the line into Canada. Carried by her, they crossed the Atlantic to more than one great pile in England and Scotland. The Pacific they were to cross in time, even to far-away Japan. Under the shadow of the Vatican, through her plea, they became entrenched in the "Eternal City" of Rome. Just what are these memorials? They are none other than the colossal hospitals for the world's insane. These hospitals when as yet they were not, this Uttle woman, an invalid, broken in body, alone and unattended, founded and promoted. To use her own title to her task, her life's masterpiece lay in her career as "Champion and Chal- lenger of the Insane." Doubly well do those colors dedicated to Dorothy Dix stand over the vestibule of a temple largely dedicated to fighters; for the entire life of this frail lady in gray was a fight from first to finish. And of the truly great, whether men or women, is there any life worth remembering where it has not been so? Differences bridged are the pontoons to success. And across these bridges have walked all the immortals. Weak characters evade these differences. Merely strong characters quarrel with them. But great characters use them as the way to triumphs they could never have achieved had it not been for such differences thus bridged. "The tonic I need," once said Dorothy Dix when laid low by sickness, "is the tonic of opposition. It always sets me on my feet." Of this tonic there was plenty. Her first difference was with her home. "I never knew childhood," was her ver- dict upon the usual care-free age of from one to twelve. Dorothy Dix 317 She was born in Hampden, Maine, in the year 1802, and concerning her father's household her heart never regis- tered anything but an aching void. In the city of Worcester, where her father moved soon after her birth, such was her keen mind that before twelve she perceived her home but a sinking ship to which she was tied down, together with her father, Joseph Dix, already up to the armpits in debt, her mother a hopeless invalid, and her brothers, doomed with her to a life of dependence, poverty, and ignorance. So absorbed was the head of the family with his habit of peddling tracts, which he kept Dorothy home to sew, that the education of his family, the bills of his creditors, the health of his wife, — all had to be sacrificed. Ignorance and the poor- house, towards which they were tending, stung Dorothy's httle soul and goaded her spirit to shake itself free, escape, run away, be educated, then return to the sinking ship and save all that she could! Such was the moving impulse under which she acted. That conditions were such she had to do so was always an open wound. The Boston home of her grandfather, Dr. Elijah Dix, was still held by her grandmother, a veritable Puritan. Hither Dorothy turned her steps. Dame Dix received her to the mental and moral rigors of her training. No good-night kisses, no stories to warm the imagina- tion, no affection to melt the heart or warm the nature in the stately Dix mansion! A special indulgence granted as a prize was the making under Dame Dix's eye of an entire shirt, not one stitch of which could vary from the other "by the width of a micrometer." Under this and the pressing intellectualism of Boston's school life, Doro- thy's heart was starved to feed the mind and will. But the girl refused to stifle heart and imagination. In 1816, coming back to Worcester to teach after two 318 Public Service years of such training, at the age of fourteen, it seemed as if the vise of iron about her frail frame and mind had pressed out these higher and finer traits. Her little Worcester pupils later recalled, along with her excellent teaching, the cold dignity with which, like a pillar of chilled steel, she stood erect over their desks, irresponsive to the more playful and tenderer heartstrings of a child. An aristocratic day and boarding school she was set over by Dame Dix. It contained the daughters of Bos- ton's most select and exclusive. Dorothy's ability and drawing powers upon this quarter enabled her to gratify her desire to relieve financially her father's load. This she did by taking her two brothers to Boston to educate and start in business, one to become commander of an American vessel, the other a successful Boston merchant. To Dr. Daniel Tuke, the English alienist, she confided later in life that up to this time she had been determined "to live to herself, to enjoy literature and art" — in other words, to be a useless vestal of culture. Happy the change! Happy the time when to return to her own beautiful confession she "discovered the fatal mistake and deter- mined to live for the good of men. It came to her in this way. Knowing her reputation as an authority and expert in charity work, which began • in her barn school, a Cambridge divinity student, who had failed to reach the women of the Cambridge jail, came to see Miss Dix, who was now much sought in Boston. "I shall take them myself," she replied. To the young clergyman's expostulation she simply added: "7 shall be there next Sunday!" Among the prisoners was a group of insane, and par- ticularly noticeable were two women with no fire to warm Dorothy Dix 319 them, planked in, and caged by a stone wall all winter from November to March. The elder was a hag shrieking curses at the younger, who was but a sUghtly irrational girl. To Dorothy Dix it became but a focal point from which to see ten thousand times ten thousand similar cases all over the world. But were all insane so beyond the pale Of human mercy? Relying on no impulsive judgment which might be due to a woman's hypersensitiveness, she investigated. Two silent years of intensest activity followed. At every keeper's door, at every poorhouse and jail in Mas- sachusetts, there her frail hand knocked. From Cambridge jail to the Berkshires, from Province- town to Fitchburg, the trim little woman in white linen and gray traveled alone. Into a notebook she jotted down specifically and exactly what she saw. None dared deny her entrance. The fire of a spirit willing to be mar- tyred if necessary gleamed in her eye and convicted by its determined gaze. Twenty-four months were thus con- sumed when, like the apparition of an ancient seer, she appeared before the Legislature of Massachusetts — not with the hysteria of a sentimentalist, but armed with facts — /acfe scientific, proved, articulate ; /ads compelling and incontestable. She spoke not a word in pubhc from the rostrum, but with that delicate feminine instinct that at once disarmed opposition she worked in private, chose the mouthpieces of her facts, then charged upon Senate and House with the irresistible caHber of her loaded memorial. Drawn up in it were the points she had taken over seven hundred laborious days to collate and which she thus prefaced : "I tell what I have seen, painful and shocking as the details are, to prevent the possibihty of repetition or con- 320 Public Service tinuance of such outrages upon humanity. I proceed, gentlemen, to call yovu- attention to the present state of insane persons within this Commonwealth — in cages, closets, cellars, stalls, pens; chained, naked, beaten with rods, and lashed into obedience." Charles Sumner headed the memorialists who presented Dorothy Dix's monograph of facts. Behind him were such other memoriaUsts as Samuel Howe, Horace Mann, Drs. Palfrey and Channing, and Superintendents Bell of the McLean and Woodward of Worcester. The memorial concluded: "Men of Massachusetts, I beg, I implore, I demand pity and protection for these of my suffering, outraged sex. Fathers, husbands, brothers, I would supplicate you for this boon. Here you will put away the cold, calculating spirit of selfishness and self-seeking, lay off the arimor of local strife and poUtical opposition; here and now, for once forgetful of the earthly and perishable, come up to these halls and consecrate them with one heart and mind to a work of righteousness and just judgment. Gentle- men, I commit you to this sacred course. Your action upon this subject will affect the present and future condi- tion of hundreds of thousands." Seated for consultation in an out-of-the-way alcove, the modest author of the memorial never appeared upon the floor. Nevertheless here, as in state after state, she be- came the storm-center round whom raged the wrath of keepers, selectmen, and politicians. Her memorial was referred to a committee. Sumner, Howe, Mann, Bell, and Woodward confirmed her point of view as even an under- statement of facts. The committee's report came back citing additional cases of maltreatment and an appeal for legislative action. Brought to vote under pressure of pub- Uc opinion, previously, as always, preinformed and edu- Dorothy Dix 321 cated by Miss Dix's editorials and contributions, the bill was carried by a majority, and the first step taken was to build quarters for two hundred more insane at Worcester. Facts collected at the southern boundaries of Massachu- setts apprised Miss Dix of similar conditions in Connec- ticut and Rhode Island. Doing the duty at hand always commands the larger beyond, and over the line into other states Dorothy Dix was to go on till her experience was to be repeated in thirty-two states of the Union, and since then to be reproduced and yet again reproduced the world over. Given confidence by this success in Massachusetts and Rhode Island, Dorothy Dix saw the horizon lift, and felt inspired to a campaign whose field was the United States and the world! So far she had worked with the feeble beginnings of one or two semi-private plants, such as existed in Massachusetts and Rhode Island. She was to conquer now a world — a world almost destitute of any insane retreat — a world foreign even to the idea. In such a world New Jersey afforded this first point of action. Instead of a foolish bombardment upon reacting sym- pathies. Miss Dix as usual spent months in a patient col- lection of facts in every jail and poorhouse. Winning a leader in the Hon. Joseph S. Dodd, she ad- vanced the attack by laying less accent than before upon the cruelty of keepers and more upon the positive "way out," pointing to something better in the place of that which she could only elsewise condemn. This positive treatment grew upon her and worked with increasing effect. March 25, 1845, came the unanimous passage of the bill for the establishment of the New Jersey Insane Hos- pital, — the first full-fledged triumph, — a hospital built 322 Public Service on no other's foundation. But it was a triumph we are to see her reproduce again and again. Under the roof- tree of this New Jersey Hospital she was to choose her place to die. But that day was forty-two years off, and this triumph of a hospital built on no other's foundation was in this time to be reproduced in over twenty American commonwealths before it leaped the border into Canada and crossed the seas into the Old World. In Pennsylvania it was duplicated at Harrisburg. But between sessions in one state Miss Dix was always busy in another. For instance: From Lexington, Kentucky, as early as 1843, two years before the New Jersey vote. Miss Dix recorded this statement: "I have been labo- riously traveling through the country collecting facts and information." Let us imagine the cultured, sensitive gentlewoman day after day standing in her physical frailty before wild- eyed maniacs as the bolts were drawn and the keepers retired — a mental and moral queen. And previous to this experience, day after day recall her, enduring the coarse stares of hostile keepers and confronting the meanest and lowest, "the party demagogues, shocking to say, the basest characters." Yet doors unlocked before the avenger, and in her telltale notebook the books were opened. Every time she entered, Judgment Day had come for the insane. "I shall go to the Southern prisons after the Legislature arises in this state," was her untiring prophecy. Down the Mississippi to New Orleans and Baton Rouge, into the state of Mississippi to Jackson; back into Mis- souri to Jefferson City; over into Illinois to Alton — thus she penetrated the interior and the South. No railroads, — and highways all but impassable, — she was compelled to carry a kit of tools to mend with her own skill broken-down wagons as they jousted over cordu- Dorothy Dix 323 roy roads, or sank in black mud to the hub, or forded streams with water up to the floor, where once and again the horses sank their haunches into sandbars, and axle- trees broke as back wheels rolled off in the rapid current. On river-boats with burning malarial fever — once on a boat blown up by a boiler explosion — she traveled the waterways as the highways, never thinking of self. Upon crossing the gangplank her first question was always not as to her berth, but — "Are any sick aboard?" In Michigan she boldly forced her paths across trackless wilds of forests. "I had hired a carriage and a driver to convey me some distance through an uninhabited portion of the country," she recorded of this state. "In starting I discovered that the driver, a young lad, had a pair of pistols with him. In- quiring what he was doing with arms, he said that he car- ried them to protect us, as he had heard that robberies had been committed along our road. I said to him : 'Give me the pistols, I will take care of them.' He did so reluctantly. "In pursuing our way through a dismal-looking forest, a man rushed into the road, caught the horse by the bridle, and demanded my purse. I said to him with as much self-possession as I could command : ' Are you not ashamed to rob a woman? I have but little money and that I want to defray my expenses in visiting prisons and poorhouses, and occasionally giving to objects of charity. If you have been unfortunate, are in distress and in want of money, I will give you some.' "While thus speaking, I discovered his countenance changing and he became deathly pale. ' ' ' My God ! ' he exclaimed. ' That voice ! ' — and imme- diately told me he had been in the Philadelphia Peniten- tiary and had heard me lecturing to some of the prisoners in an adjoining cell and that now he recognized my 324 Public Service voice. He then desired me to pass on, and expressed deep sorrow at the outrage he had committed. But I drew out my purse, and said to him: 'I will give you something to support you until you can get into honest employnaent.'" Dorothy Dix's record in the three years before 1845, even in this bedraggled and dangerous type of travel, was more than ten thousand miles. Besides her great quest she visited in this time state penitentiaries, three hundred county jails, five hundred almshouses, besides hospitals and houses of refuge. In these thirty-six months alone, she succeeded in planting and promoting six hospitals for the insane, besides a number of county poorhouses and improved jails. After 1845 the great achievement of founding colossal hospitals for the insane where none existed was completed in Indiana, IlUnois, Kentucky, Tennessee, Missouri, Mis- sissippi, Louisiana, Alabama, South CaroUna, North Carolina and Maryland. "Nothing can be done here," had been the people's rejoinder at North CaroHna. "I reply," said she, "I know no such word in the vocab- ulary I adopt." "Kill the bill, stillborn," was the opposition's cry. Exposure of conditions recast public opinion, and with a previously prepared hold on the Hon. James C. Dobbin as leader, December, 1848, she found the vote to build, one hundred and one, to ten! Constantly an invaUd, able to rest only by steahng snatches of repose between the long travel stretches, she was often compelled to stay up till one o'clock at night in order to strike when the iron was hot. When not con- fronting groups of men whose will power she had to handle and control, she was writing newspaper broadsides. Seldom free from enervation, it was in the South that Dorothy Dix 325 she wrote: "I shall be well when I get to Alabama" (a storm-center of protest). "The tonic I need is the tonic of opposition. It always sets me on my feet." "Just one chance that my bill would pass," was her comment concerning this Alabama crisis. In 1849, as a last blow, the Alabama State Capitol burned. Yet backed by her picked leader, Dr. Lopez, and the Alabama State Medical Association, one hundred thousand dollars was voted, and later one hundred and fifty thousand dollars more! The magnanimous act was closely seconded by Mississippi with twenty-four majority in the Senate and eighty-one in the House — marking a conquest over a pre- determination "not to give a dime!" In true Southern style the legislators' thanks were followed by those drawn up by the commissioners, and not finding this enough the Southern 'great-hearts bestowed upon the institutions Miss Dix's name, an honor that she always proceeded to refuse. That simmier — into Canada ! — But not for rest. Canada was seemingly hopeless. "I must go by thy faith, for mine is gone," wrote the Hon. Hugh Bell, the crushed leader of the cause. This was in 1850. In but a short time Miss Dix's little figure stepped into the breach and the Canadian Parliament closed with sixty thousand dollars appropriation, followed by twenty thousand dollars more subscribed. Punctuated was this period by cheering news from other centers of agitation. Baltimore, Maryland, wrote that her bill had passed. Kentucky followed, declaring for a hospital at Lexington as well as at Hopkinsville, Indiana for the hospital at Indianapohs, IlUnois for the hospital at Jacksonville, Missouri for the hospital at Ful- ton, Tennessee for the hospital at Nashville, North Caro- Una for the hospital at Raleigh, Alabama for a hospital at 326 Public Service Tuscaloosa, and the District of Columbia for a hospital at Washington. Yet this was not enough. " On to Washington! " became her cry. Twenty odd State Legislatures and Canada already won — Congress must be won ! In the meantime the few friends of the Army and Navy Hospital for the insane were about to give up the fight, sajdng: "There is nothing more to be done." " We must try what can be done," was her reply. Two days after came an answer to Dorothy Dix's plea, from the owner of the coveted but refused site, who now offered her the land, "regarding you," as he wrote her, " the instrimient in the hands of God to seciu-e this very spot for the imfortunate whose best earthly friend you are, and believing that the Almighty's blessing will not rest on or abide with those who may place obstacles in your way." The Army and the Navy Hospital thus secured, before the Federal Congress Dorothy Dix now launched her twenty-five-milUon-acre bill for a land-grant " to pro- mote, plant, and sustain insane hospitals in the newer states and territories." For school purposes one hundred and forty-three million seven himdred and four thousand nine hundred and eighty-two acres had already been given, and vast tracts to railroads, and deaf and dumb, and blind institutions ; why should not grants be made the insane? One-sixth of the insane of the country were in hospitals, but five-sixths were outside, in horrors she only too well had discovered and thus described: " I have myself seen more than nine thousand idiots, epileptics, and insane in the United States destitute of ap- propriate care and protection. And of this vast and mis- erable company sought out in jails or poorhouses and in private dwellings, there have been hundreds, nay, rather, Dorothy Dix 327 thousands, bound with gaUing chains, bruised beneath fetters and heavy iron balls attached to drag-chains, lacerated with ropes, scourged with rods, and terrified beneath storms of profane execrations and blows; now subject to gibes and scorn and torturing tricks, now aban- doned to the vilest and most outrageous violations." Congressional action, however, was deferred, owing to the new Democratic move against land-grabbing, which foolishly included such righteous causes as this. At this opposition in 1850 Dorothy Dix did not give in, but in- stead characteristically increased the number of acres in the bill by twelve million two hundred and fifty thousand. In 1851 the Senate passed the act by a large majority. In March, 1852, it again passed the Senate, and in August the House; likewise, also, her bill for one hundred thou- sand dollars for the Army and Navy Hospital. At this time, hke a thunderbolt from a clear sky, fell upon the Congressional bill for a land grant the remarkable and partisan veto of President Franklin Pierce! At the crushing news of the veto, Miss Dix sought Great Britain as her change of sphere and earth's miserables as her counter-consolation, with this motto Rest is not quitting the mortal career, Rest is the fitting of self to its sphere. In Scotland, south of Edinburgh, six stone cells were the only public places of confinement for the insane ! The bills of 1848 for the relief and planting of hospitals had been lost when America's unveiled Sister of Mercy arrived on the scene. To every place of detention of the demented came the knock of the avenger. The Lord Provost of Edinburgh himself headed the opposition. He would indeed even forestall her appeal to the Home Secretary at London. 328 Public Service But driving to the first train out of Scotland for London that night, she secured her audience hours before the Hon- orable Lord Provost alighted in due dignity from his coach. Her interview resulted in the modification of the lunacy- laws of Scotland, the abrogation of all private money- making establishments and the founding of the great new general hospitals by Parliament's final vote. This vote was consummated August 25, 1857. Debility of heart and physician's cautions could not deter Dorothy Dix from the cry from the Channel Islands, where many of England's insane were farmed out for blood money. As a result of her visit and confronting the authorities with the conditions, came the vote to build instead a great English Hospital for the Insane! In Switzerland, the Chamonix, Berne, Oberland, the Glaciers and the Cascades could not drown or freeze Miss Dix's heart to an ultra montane cry — a cry from Rome itself. Under the shadow of the Vatican she found one of the most cruelly neglected of all places for the detention of insane. To the noble heart of Rome's Supreme Pontiff she went straightway as America's unveiled Sister of Mercy. The Pope was astounded at the exposure. Visiting the place secretly in person, his Eminence found it worse than described. By his gracious initiative a new asylum on the most approved plan soon reared its head. In 1856, upon Miss Dix's return to America, she was not yet to escape the call of the demented, and she confessed: "If I am cold, they are cold. If I am weary, they are dis- tressed. If I am alone, they are abandoned." After four years came the Civil War, whose bloodshed reddened the sunset of her afternoon. Her field of action at once was at the front at Baltimore. Here she revealed the Southern strategy which contemplated an attack upon "Washington and the capture of Lincoln. Through the Dorothy Dix 329 mob she pressed to Washington to be appointed Superin- tendent of women nm-ses. In the awful years of beautiful service, in directing nurses to military camps, in supervis- ing their service throughout the army, in caring for the thousands upon thousands of tons of supplies, what wonder human ingenuity sometimes became confused and human power to compass the situation fell short! It was said that in those four years she never once sat down! Grand as her effort, "it is not the work I am to be coupled with," was her conclusion. Yet her work there was most illustrious. It was so notable a climax to her career that the United States Secretary of War, by vote of Congress and the War Cabinet, offered, as we have said, to bestow the recogni- tion of either a fortune or a national ovation. Refusing both, as we have seen, she chose instead — "the flags of my country." From now on up to her death in 1887, under the roof- tree of her first-born hospital in New Jersey, her queenly, unconquerable spirit reigned like a wounded general's. Here she spent her remaining strength in supervising the insane hospitals of the country and the world. And in "the hom- of bodily suffering" which for her was "the hour of spiritual joy," her Ufe's quest ended in the fulfillment of her own prophecy of long ago when she predicted : "This is no romance. I shall see their chains off. I shall take them into the green fields and show them the lovely little flowers and the blue sky, and they shall play with the lambs and listen to the songs of the birds, and a little child shall lead them!" DR. BARNARDO: "THE FATHER OF NOBODY'S CHILDREN" 1 By WILLIAM H. TOLMAN ^N tracing back the history of successful move- ments and institutions, it usually happens that their inception is due to the strong personal influence of some one man or woman with a high ideal, the realization of which is to be accompUshed by means of the new society. Particularly is this true of the young London doctor whose life work was the saving and right education of destitute children. He was a hard student, night and day, — but two nights and all of Sunday were his own, what he called free time, and these he devoted to a ragged school, the small beginning of what is now almost a world-wide benevolence. Jim, a London waif, had been told of this school by one of his chums, and had gone there one chilly winter night for the warmth, and not from any desire to be taught. When it came time for the young doctor, wearied and worried by the effort of dealing with the young toughs and keeping them fairly quiet, to dismiss the school for the night, he saw Jim Ungering. He ordered him to go home. Something in the lad's appealing glance and his request to stop in the schoolroom aroused the teacher's flagging interest, but he said: "Why, the idea is absurd. What will your father and mother say?" Then it came out that Jim had no parents, no friends, no home. It was hard to beheve that there was any child in London ' By permission of the Author and " The Craftsman." Copyright 1906. 330 Dr. Barnardo 331 who did not have a single friend, but Jim stuck to his statement so stoutly that the doctor could not, even by the most skillful cross-examination, shake his story. He decided to put Jim to the proof, but not until he had filled him up with all the hot coffee he could drink. The search party started out half an hour after mid- night, peering into barrels, looking into dark corners and down narrow passages, but no homeless boys could be fotmd. "That's 'cause they are 'fraid of the poUcemen, who keep a sharp lookout for them down here," said Jim. "You'll see lots of 'em now, if you don't wake 'em up. Here 's one lay." "Where, I don't see any boys," said the doctor. "Com-se you don't," replied the waif, " you 've got to climb up on the iron roof of the shed." This shed formed the boimdary of the wall against which they had come. In Dr. Barnardo's own words: "How to get up was the next question, but Jim made hght work of this. His sharp eyes detected the well-worn marks by which the lads ascended and descended — httle interstices between the bricks, whence the mortar had fallen or had been picked away. Jim rapidly climbed up first, and then by the aid of a stick, which he held down for me, I too made my ascent, and at length stood upon the stone coping or parapet which ran along the side. There, exposed upon the dome-shaped roof, with their heads upon the higher part, and their feet somewhere in the gutter, but in a great variety of postures, some coiled up, as one may have seen dogs before a fire; some huddled two or three together, others more apart — lay eleven boys out on the open roof. " No covering of any kind was upon them. The rags that most of them wore were mere apologies for clothes. 332 Public Service apparently quite as bad as Jim's, if not even worse. One big fellow lay there who seemed to be about eight- een years old; but the ages of the remainder varied, I should say, from nine to fourteen. "Just then the moon shone clearly out. I have already said that it was a bitterly cold, dry night, and, as the pale light of the moon fell upon the upturned faces of those poor boys, and as I, standing there, reahzed for one awful moment the terrible fact that they were all absolutely homeless and destitute, and were perhaps but samples of hundreds of others, it seemed as if the hand of God himself had suddenly pulled aside the curtain which concealed from my view the untold miseries of foJorn child life upon the streets of London. Add to this that a passionate sense of the unfairness of things flooded my heart and naind as I stood that night upon the roof top. "I confess I was dazed at the very thought of it, and only found relief when I gave up trying to solve it and thought I must do just the one duty that lay so mani- festly at my door — to save this poor lad, whatever might come of it. Jim looked at the whole thing from a very matter-of-fact point of view. 'Shall I wake 'em up, sir?' he asked. 'Hush,' said I, 'don't let us attempt to disturb them,' and as one of them moved uneasily, I hurried away." The first home to be estabhshed, as a result of the night's discovery, was in a lowly London street with accommodations for about twenty-five boys. Dr. Bar- nardo and his friend did the repairs and then he spent two whole nights on the street, getting the raw material for his home. Such was the small beginning of a work that to-day cares for thousands of children in upwards of one hundred homes, with an annual budget of hundreds of thousands of dollars. Public Service Dr. Barnardo 333 A man like Dr. Barnardo is ever an opportunist in the best sense; being thoroughly imbued with the greatness of his subject and inspired with first-hand knowledge, he is ever ready to speak with conviction. Dr. Barnardo's first opportunity was literally thrust upon him. It seems that Dr. Davidson had been conducting Sunday services for the people in the large Agricultural Hall in London. At one of the meetings, the speaker who had been ex- pected failed. Dr. Davidson, knowing of Barnardo's work, and seeing him in the audience, called him to the platform to give an account of his East End Mission, as it was a missionary meeting. It was Barnardo's first speech, but he reahzed that here was an opportunity to tell the story of his waifs. Simply and sincerely he related his experience with Jim and his fellows. His speech carried conviction, and the press gave it wide pubhcity, one of the papers coming under the notice of the Earl of Shaftesbury, who was so deeply impressed that he invited Barnardo to dine with him. At dinner, the story of Jim was related, but the diners expressed poHtely their disbehef that such a condition of child poverty could exist in London, and their impres- sion that the case had been greatly overstated. There was only one way to prove it, and Lord Shaftesbxiry sug- gested that the party should then and there go out with Barnardo and see for themselves. Cabs were ordered, and the entire party in evening dress went to the lowest of London's slums, near Billingsgate. Barnardo well knew that many a lay was there, but not a boy was to be found. At this crisis, a friendly policeman told him that there were "Lots of 'em in there, and they '11 come out if you give them a copper," and he pointed out a hidden recess where it did not seem possible for any waif to take refuge. A halfpenny a head was offered, when 334 Public Service instantly from among old crates, boxes, and barrels, which had been piled together and covered over by a bit of sailcloth, seventy-three boys crawled out. Bar- nardo had made good. Lord Shaftesbury marched the party to Dick Fisher's coffee shop, where the boys were filled to the brim with coffee, bread, and butter. When Shaftesbury parted with Barnardo for the night, he said, "All London shall know of this." The aid of Lord Shaftesbury was one result of the meeting at Agricultural Hall. Another, equally signifi- cant, happened at the close, when a young servant girl came to Barnardo and said that she had made a small saving out of her wages, which she had wanted to con- tribute to foreign missions, but that she had become so deeply impressed with the needs of the waifs in London that she wished him to use it in their rescue. It was the first public money he had ever received, and, as he said later, "I felt as awkward in receiving it as she did in giving it." On reaching home he opened the package and found six and three-fourths pence in farthings. This small sum in farthings was the very beginning of a total of upward of fifteen and one-half milUon dollars which have passed through his treasury. In the Barnardo homes, the children are sought for day and night by trained workers throughout the lowest parts of the city. Boys and girls are admitted from all parts of the kingdom, in fact, from all parts of the world, irrespective of age, creed, or physical defects. In aU the history of the homes, no child has yet been refused ad- mission. At the tune of Dr. Barnardo's death, in 1905, nineteen thousand two hundred and fifty children were being cared for by his various agencies. In the success- ful promotion of such a large scheme for social and moral restoration of the dependents and defectives, it becomes Dr. Barnardo 335 of extreme interest to know if Dr. Barnardo really ap- prehended the bigness of the problem, how he put it before himself, and then how he proposed to solve it. That he fully realized its perplexities was evident from his purpose to build up a system of child rescue and res- toration that included every kind of waif needing help, but at the same time to prevent the benevolence thus bestowed on them from becoming an incitement to im- providence among parents of the baser sort, thus inten- sifying the very evil he was seeking to lessen. Another very serious difficulty was the removal of children from the custody of the criminal, drunken, and degraded guard- ians, to whom the law gave this custody, and who, if they wished, could frustrate the best directed efforts to rescue the children from inunoral surroundings. Thirdly, how to train the rescued children, so that they would never again revert to the lower conditions. In reflecting on the perils that attended nearly every poHcy outlined, one guiding principle was evident from the first, namely, that institutionalism must be avoided at all hazards. The children must be brought up under homely and natural surroundings instead of artificial and institu- tional conditions. The influence of mother, of the home, of brother and sister, combined with an atmosphere of devout and personal religion, were to implant those principles that would ultimately subdue in the waifs the inherited tendencies to evil. My interest in London's treatment of the waif and my knowledge of Dr. Barnardo's pioneer work in trying to solve this most difficult of problems, led me to visit him. I found him gentle and unassuming, quite ready to talk about his work. After explaining his guiding prin- ciples he suggested that it would be better to see the work in actual operation, and detailed one of his staff to 336 Public Service show us about. In the administration of the home, school work comes first, and then a trade adapted to the incUnation and ability of the lad. When the boy is first received the "History Book" records his origin, relation- ships, physical and other characteristics. After a thor- ough cleansing he is assigned a bed and an individual locker. The next morning the bugle awakes him at five-thirty for a half-hour's set-up drill before breakfast. After this meal, family prayer in the hall or chapel, school at nine o'clock, which continues until four-thirty, with an interval of two hours for dinner, drill, and play; supper at six; another drill, an hour's play, evening prayers, bed, and "Ughts out" at nine o'clock. It is wonderful how adaptable these boys are in all lines of work. They are the housekeepers, cooks, wait- resses, chambermaids, bakers, carpenters, shoemakers, tailors, printers, weavers, plumbers, mat and brush makers, and workers in many other useful employments which supply the needs of the home. Not only does this work keep them occupied usefully but effects a great saving in the purchase of suppUes for the home and also yields a revenue from the sale of the surplus products. Each branch has its master of that craft, who is the in- structor. Those boys showing a special aptitude in any particular trade are regularly apprenticed at the home for three or five years, at the end of which time they are graduated as skilled workers fully equipped for com- petition with the outside world. We were much impressed with the thoroughness of this manual training. In the baking school the bread just drawn from the oven was deUcious, and we felt that we were in a great bakery with hundreds of loaves laid neatly on the shelves around us. They had their regular bak- ing days, a certain number of boys being detailed to do Dr, Barnardo 337 this work. The little bakers, clad in white aprons and caps, looked very professional. One room was called the shoe hospital; here were sent all the old decrepit, toeless, soleless, and heelless shoes, apparent wrecks, but in the hands of the energetic httle cobblers miraculous cures were effected, and, restored to some semblance of new- ness, the shoes were sent forth for another period of service. It was really an inspiration to go through the many branches of the work; we found such enthusiasm, such a determination on the part of the boys to do their utmost to bring their work up to the highest standard. I found myself constantly asking, "Did boys do this work?" The work is not all of a soberly practical nature, and much attention is paid to the teaching of music. Any child having talent and showing a desire to learn is provided with a musical instrument and is well taught. As soon as he is proficient he is placed in one of the sev- eral home bands. The children are very fond of music, and much pleasure is given this way. One of the buildings in the group is a Jubilee Memorial Hospital to Queen Victoria. It is fully equipped with the latest devices for relieving pain and suffering. Daily operations are performed, many of them on patients seemingly incurable. Some of the finest surgeons in England give their services, and their delicate skill is often the means of effecting notable cures. If it were not for this "Palace of Pain," hundreds of little sufferers would be left to die without any care or help. The wis- dom of Dr. Barnardo's insistence, that no child, whatever his condition, should ever be refused, is shown by the hundreds of children's Uves which have been saved for themselves and for society. From the original home in Stepney, Dr. Barnardo saw the London work expand phenomenally; to-day it includes 338 Public Service "The Palace of Pain," a hospital for waifs, a creche, an orphan home for little boys, a service house for older girls, a labor house for destitute youths, rescue home for young girls in special danger, "The Bee Hive," an in- dustrial school for older girls, "The Union Jack Shoe- black Brigade " and home, children's free lodging houses, and a children's fold for very small boys. This much for London. In Jersey there is a nursery home for very little boys; in the provinces, "The Babies' Castle," a con- valescent seaside home, a memorial home for incurables, and numerous orphan homes for boys and girls, a board- ing-out branch with upwards of one hundred local centers and shipping agencies in two ports. Thirteen ever-open doors where waifs may be received. Then there is the Watts Naval Training School in Norfolk, emigration depots and distributing homes in Ontario for girls and in Winnipeg and Toronto for boys, and an industrial farm of eight thousand acres in Manitoba for older youths. The story of the girls' garden city illustrates so admir- ably the spirit and the methods of Dr. Barnardo, that I shall tell it somewhat in detail. Soon after he began the care of girls, he was firmly persuaded that there should be small cottage homes where the girls could be reared in the midst of home surroundings instead of the barrack type of institutions.- This idea was new and untried, but Barnardo beheved it was right. On a visit to Oxford, he discussed his plans with a friend on the railway train. He had no certainty as to the ways and means, but felt sure that a way would be provided to carry on a work so necessary and so widely beneficent. The next morning a gentleman called at the hotel, stat- ing that he had seen in the paper the project of cottage homes for girls, and told Dr. Barnardo to put him Dr. Barnardo 339 down for the first bxiilding. Such was the beginning of the girls' garden city, now numbering some sixty cottages. The city is about half an hour from London, in a beau- tiful spot of rural England. The cottages are detached, each accommodating sixteen, twenty, or twenty-five chil- dren, in charge of a housemother, whose sole purpose is to make the cottage homehke for them. They are allowed to have their pets, canaries, doves, and cats. The children are of assorted sizes and ages, just as in the normal family. All the work of the cottage is done by the inmates, who thus constitute an independent house- hold. As the Girls' Village is an independent community, it has its own pubUc school, with accommodations for one thousand pupils. The school is under the control of the Educational Department of England, subject to its in- spectors and examinations, and the report of the inspec- tors shows that these girls compare very favorably with other children of the same age. The classes in these schools are mostly elementary, and are supplemented by the speciaUzed schools in domestic science, so that the girls may become good cooks, laundresses, and general houseworkers. Others who show any aptitude are taught millinery and dressmaking, for it is the object to make these girls self-supporting just as soon as they are ready for a place in the outside world. There is a steady demand for Dr. Barnardo's girls for household work, — in fact, there is a waiting Ust. He was always particu- lar, however, to place them in famihes where the right influence would be thrown about them, as so much depends on the start. There is a special home provided for deformed girls who have reached young womanhood and are incapable 340 Public Service of self-support. They mingle freely in the village life, and share its activities. The crippled and deformed boys and younger girls are distributed among the homes containing the healthy children, who help take care of them. The older children are taught consideration and gentleness for the aflflicted ones. In this way, the family life becomes a school of unselfishness for the children, as their sympathies go out to those who are worse off than themselves. Dr. Barnardo's faith that the needs of the village would be met, was exemplified by the gift to the village of a children's church, by a lady who desired this form of memorial to her father and mother. The church is beautifully simple, with comfortable pews for the children, so that each housemother can sit with her own family at worship. Early in his career. Dr. Barnardo became a firm believer in the efficacy of emigration, because it gave his boys a chance, as he was so fond of saying. The London home is a training school, fitting the boy or the girl with the knowledge of a craft that will make them self- supporting. Were it not for some system of emigration, there would not be an outlet for the home population. The emigration department makes it possible to absorb any number of children in a new country, as it would be well nigh impossible to place them in individual homes in England. While some children are sent to AustraUa, New Zea- land, and Africa, Canada is the principal field for the young citizens; it is near, and the country wants settlers, especially good ones. ReaUzing that the tie binding the young emigrant to the London home must not be severed, a supervision is maintained through systematic visitation and regular correspondence. Friendly visitors system- atically care for the children on their arrival in Canada Dr. Barnardo 341 while the Homes there are centers of kindly influence for any need of the child. The country receiving the prospective citizens is further safeguarded by a guarantee from Dr. Barnardo 's establish- ment that any child proving a moral failure will be brought back to England, thus insuring the removal from the country of nonproductive social and industrial elements. Among the very first emigrants sent to Canada was Jim, who again was a pioneer in this new phase of waif restora- tion. Boys over seventeen who have been tested are sent to the industrial farm in Manitoba. It is a farm- training school where the boys contract to serve one year in part payment for the advantages received. At the end of that time they are eligible to become farm laborers, and to receive free a conditional grant of one hundred and sixty acres from the government. Help is then given them to set up homes of their own, so that the farm becomes a colonizing center for the district. Dr. Bar- nardo considered that the emigration department was most satisfactory, because it was a broad foundation for an enduring manhood and womanhood. Only two per cent of his emigrants had proven unsatisfactory. From the foundation of the work, upwards of fifteen and a half million dollars have passed through the treas- ury, which has been used in the social salvation of nearly sixty thousand waifs. In a work of this magnitude Dr. Barnardo felt that he should account for every penny; the accounts are audited weekly, and again a monthly audit is presented at the council meeting, in each case by two different sets of auditors. Dr. Bar- nardo had no personal contact with the disbursements, which were all made on the order of the council, thus freeing him from any embarrassment in handUng trust funds. One element of success is explained by the large 342 Public Service number of small subscriptions, evidencing the widespread interest. Out of ninety-four thousand three hundred and thirty- two separate donations in 1902, sixty-four thousand six hundred and seventeen were less than five dollars and twenty-three thousand three hundred and fifty- three were between five dollars and twenty-five dollars. The whole work is absolutely dependent, from day to day, upon the free-will offerings of the benevolent. Dr. Barnardo knew for some years before his death that he could not live very long, and began such a thor- ough systematization of the work that it could be carried on without a break along the hues so wisely laid down by the founder and so thoroughly tested by a successful experience. The society is formally known as the Na- tional Incorporated Association for the Reclamation of Destitute Waif Children, with the responsibiUty for the direction of all the various rescue agencies in the hands of a Council. Desirous of an opinion on Dr. Barnardo and his work from an American whom I considered best qualified to judge, I asked it from Charles Loring Brace, the Secretary of the New York Children's Aid Society. "Dr. Barnardo was one of the great men of his time," said Mr. Brace. "His life was a whirlwind campaign for the benefit of the helpless. His enthusiasm, his eloquent appeals, both in pubhc meetings and in printed circulars, were so moving that he obtained in charitable contributions a greater sum than any other one man of any time. Not less re- markable was his power of organization and the wisdom of his methods in the expenditure of huge sums to better the condition of neglected children." The plan of caring for orphan and abandoned city children by placing them in carefully selected country homes, preferably in farmers' families, and of estabUshing Dr. Barnardo 343 homes for street boys and industrial day schools for poor children who live in the tenements, was first undertaken by the late Charles L. Brace in 1853, long before Dr. Bar- nardo adopted the same means of helping children in London. These methods have been carried on by the New York Children's Aid Society on a greater scale than by Dr. Barnardo, but the latter has undertaken not only these departments, but also the work which the many institu- tions and orphanages of New York have done, and on a very much wiser plan. Dr. Barnardo's many homes, training schools, and children's villages on the cottage plan have been in operation for years, while the institu- tions in this country are only just discovering the neces- sity of the cottage plan in place of the huge barracks heretofore in use. But even yet, the managers of the institutions have not adopted Dr. Barnardo's wise pro- vision that persons of different ages, from the baby to the decrepit old woman, should live together in each cottage in a manner similar to the family hfe of a cottage in a coimtry village, the younger attending school, the older ones going to work at handicrafts in the shops to the extent of their strength or abihty. "Dr. Barnardo visited the Newsboys' Lodging House in New York on a Simday evening. He was impressed with what seemed to him the extraordinary hopefulness of the spirit of our work. 'You have an enormous advan- tage over us in London,' he said. 'When you talk to your boys you rouse their ambitions by telling them of the governors and congressmen who were once waifs on the street until rescued by you. In London the opportu- nities for future eminence are so remote that we must confine our talk to the future rewards promised by rehgion." To attempt a eulogy on the life of a man who has done 344 Public Service so much for humanity is an utter impossibiUty. There are no fitting words which can express the consecration of such a character, the love and sjonpathy which went out from him these many years in patient, untiring effort to save these little outcasts of society. Dr. Barnardo has been called " the father of nobody's children," and his eulogy and his memorial come from the hearts of the children whom he redeemed, whose Uves and good citizen- ship will be a constant testimony and tribute to the glory of his great work. DISTRICT NURSING By ISABEL HAMPTON ROBB NGLAND'S Jubilee year of District Nxirsing has just closed. It was fittingly celebrated by a Jubilee Congress of District Nursing held in May last in Liverpool, the birth- place of district nursing. Dating from the close of the Crimean War the whole of England was stirred to the pos- sibihties of improving the nursing of the sick in hos- pitals and institutions through Florence Nightingale's use of a great nation's gift to her, fifty thousand pounds sterling. With this fund a school of nursing was estab- hshed in connection v/ith St. Thomas Hospital, London; this, the Nightingale School, was founded in 1860. Previous to this time, however, tentative efforts had been put forth to improve the condition of the sick poor and to redeem hospitals from the dens of iniquity they had been permitted to become. To this end St. John's House Sisterhood was founded in 1848 with "the design to improve the quahfications and to raise the character of nurses for the sick in hospitals, among the poor, and in private famihes, by providing for them professional training together with moral and religious discipHne under the care of a Lady Superintendent and resident Sisters aided by a clergyman as chaplain." This Sisterhood undertook the nursing of King's College Hospital in 1856, but it was left to Mr. William Rathbone of Liverpool really to found a district system of nursing for the sick poor in their homes, than which even at the present day no need is greater. 345 346 Public Service In the face of all but unsurmountable difficulties, with no efficiently trained nurses to call to his aid, with the poor themselves to convince of the use and very real help this new way of caring for their sick would be to them, and with an indifferent and conservative public to make realize its responsibihty in doing its share toward making the system a success, Mr. Rathbone planned so wisely and well and with so deep-seated a conviction that this form of nursing would result in unthought-of good, that within four short years after its founding aU of Liver- pool was divided into no less than eighteen districts, with at least one nurse in each district, who worked with a committee of ladies who held themselves responsible for the nursing of the sick in that district. Even after fifty years of development and under most favorable conditions no city of either Europe or America can boast of a similar achievement in the same space of time. To tell in detail how this small acorn planted fifty years ago has waxed into a great oak is beyond the limit of these pages, and those who would know more would do well to provide themselves with the Transactions of the Jubilee Congress of District Nursing. So successful was the district nursing movement in Liverpool that it was not long before other cities in England foimded district niusing upon such lines as best suited the needs of the several cities, but the East London Nursing Society, founded in 1868, was solely for district nursing. Then a fresh impetus was given district nursing throughout England by the founding of the Metropohtan and National Nursing Association, with Mr. Rathbone as chairman of this Association. Miss Nightingale herself made a special public appeal for funds to start the Central Home as a district training school. Until the founding of this Association nurses were District Nursing 347 drawn from any available source, but as the report states "the great departure of this association was the employ- ment of trained nurses drawn from the ranks of educated women, and by an important provision of its organiza- tion, homes were established in London and large towns where the nurses Uved under the management of fully trained superintendents." Through this Association dis- trict nursing rapidly developed in many directions, but the crowning act that was to enable district nursing to be developed throughout Great Britain, and to put it upon a firm and sure footing for all time as one of its great insti- tutions, came through Queen Victoria, who devoted to the cause of district niirsing the greater part of her Jubilee gift of seventy thousand pounds sterling from the women of Great Britain. The interest of this fund was used to found the "Queen Victoria Jubilee Institution for Nurses, for the education of nurses, and to promote the establish- ment of branches throughout the United Kingdom." In most cases the associations already in existence became affihated with the Queen Victoria Jubilee Institution so that "Queen's Nurses" are now to be found in all parts of Great Britain. While these developments were going on in England America was also beginning to awaken to her responsibil- ity towards her sick in both homes and hospitals. As early as 1828 "the Philadelphia lying-in-charity for attending indigent females at their homes" was founded, but not until 1877 was the modern system of district nursing recognized. Bellevue Training School for Nurses was founded in 1872 and five years later the Woman's Branch of the New York City Mission engaged the services of a Bellevue graduate to send her to nurse the poor in their homes. Two years later the Felix Adler Society (Ethical Cultm-e) began district nursing with two Bellevue gradu- 348 Public Service ates. From time to time in New York various churches, societies, institutions, and social settlements added one or more district nurses to their other social service work, but at no time in that city has an independent system of district nursing been estabUshed. The district nursing branch of the Nurses' Settlement, Henry street, is the most conspicuous group at the present time. In 1886 Boston and Philadelphia both started district-niu'sing systems which have developed into flourishing societies. Chicago founded a society in 1889, Washington in 1890, Baltimore in 1896, and Cleveland in 1902. All these are distinctly district-nursing organizations. Until the beginning of 1900 the development of this form of nursing was slow and halting but since then its development has been amazing, so that now about half the states in the Union have district nursing developed in some form and to some degree. To quote from Miss Waters's book just published, entitled, "Visiting Nursing in the United States," "There are to-day, August 1, 1909, five hundred and sixty-six associations with a staff of one thousand four hundred and thirteen nurses. In 1907, sixty-seven new societies were formed; in 1908, one hundred and twelve, and in the first six months of 1909, seventy-five others were formed." As it is so evident that the care of the .sick poor in their homes must go hand in hand with the educational in- fluence that the nurse knowingly or otherwise exerts, the above figures go to prove that the pubUc is beginning to realize that, at the present at least, we have no stronger factor in improving hygienic conditions in the homes, of the poor than the trained nurse, as a visiting nurse, whose work has been recently broadened and strengthened by the addition of school nursing. OXYGENIZING A CITY^ By burton J. HENDRICK ^N Chicago's Zoological Garden, a few years ago, tuberculosis was a more destructive disease than it is to-day in the East Side tenement sections of New York. Virtually no species of animal seemed to be immune. Lions, tigers, mountain sheep, reindeer, buffaloes, ostriches, pythons — all fre- quently fell victims to the disease. In the monkey house the visitations were especially virulent. In this part of the menagerie there were practically only two causes of death: violence — for monkeys are persistent fighters — and tuberculosis. There could be no mistake in the situation, for Doctor WilUam A. Evans, the pathologist to the Lincoln Park Zoo, performed an autopsy on every animal that died. Dr. Evans's records shewed that there were from fifty to sixty deaths every year, and that eighty per cent of these were caused by tuberculosis. Was it the result of ignorant training, of malnutrition, of inconsiderate ex- posure to the disease? It seemed impossible, for " Cy" De Vry, the superintendent of the Zoo, enjoyed a national reputation as an intelligent animal-keeper. When appealed to, Mr. De Vry proudly called Dr. Evans's attention to the fact that, as far as circum- stances would permit, he had reproduced the same physical conditions under which animals hved in their native lands. Those that had come from a cold climate 1 By permission of the Author and " McCIure's Magazine." Copyright, 1910. 349 350 Public Service were kept in a cold atmosphere; those accustomed to a moderate temperature were supphed with moderately warm air; and those that lived naturally in the tropical zone were conscientiously provided with tropical heat. "Just take my monkeys, for example," said Mr. De Vry. "I find that the average temperature of the places from which they come is eighty-five degrees Fahren- heit. Now, the thing to do, of course, is to keep them always in eighty-five-degree air. In the summer time they get this easily in the open. When winter comes, I take them all inside, turn on the steam, and keep their quarters at about eighty-five degrees. They like it, too. Look here," and he led the way into one of the modern steam-heated monkey apartments. Here twenty or thirty shivering creatures were making heroic efforts to keep warm. In one corner, a large radiator was sending forth enormous gusts of hot air, and a wooden shelf on top of this radiator was the most popular quarter of the cage. Every inch was filled with huddling monkeys, rapturously basking in the heat, which was not far from one hundred and twenty-five degrees. " Your scheme seems logical enough, Cy," said Dr. Evans. "You are simply trying to do for your monkeys here what nature does for them in their own homes. But it doesn't seem to work very well. I think we had better try something else." The next fall the Chicago Zoo purchased its usual winter consignment of monkeys. Nearly all of them were fresh from the tropics, and consequently were in fine physical condition. As usual, however, there were a few animals that had lived in this country long enough to have become physically degenerate. They were sad and mangy specimens, having practically no hair, and with the skin drawn tightly around their bones — feeble. Oxygenizing a City 351 timid, and feverous. At Dr. Evans's suggestion, these were placed aside as safe subjects for experiment. "Take your twenty healthy monkeys inside, as usual, this winter, ' ' he told Cy De Vry , "but keep the five sick ones outside. It will be interesting to see what will happen." "But they can't stand it; the cold air will kill them," protested the keeper. "If it does you won't lose much — or the monkeys either, for, at best, they can only live a few weeks." As the winter came on, these five sick tropical animals were kept in a place where they were constantly exposed to its chilling drafts. They became perforce fresh-air cranks. A thatched shelter was provided, into which they could retreat when the weather became too icy, but no artificial heat was supphed. Strangely enough, except at night, when they slept under it, the invalids seemed to care httle for this shelter. With the gradual approach of winter, the monkeys showed as natural an inclination for the cold open air as their healthy brothers did for the hot drafts inside the monkey house. Presently there appeared upon their emaciated bodies a faint sprouting of hair, which grew thicker as the weather became more severe. Gradually the sluggish creatures started into life; instead of hud- dling in corners, they began to climb and jump about their cages. Before the winter was over, all of them had thick brown furry coats; their muscles had grown large and strong; they ate eagerly, and manifested an in- creased desire for the favorite simian pastime — fighting. They became the most popular curiosities of the Zoo. Nothing in years had delighted visitors so much as what had now become an everyday sight ; one of these tropical animals, in zero weather, seated upon a snow bank, con- tentedly eating a banana. 352 Public Service But the twenty monkeys that, early in the winter, had entered the steam-heated monkey house in splendid physical condition had not fared so well. By spring not a single one was alive — all had died of tuberculosis. The artificial reproduction of "tropical conditions" had killed them, as it had killed hundreds of their predeces- sors. The five outdoor animals, however, never showed the slightest trace of the disease. And two of them are still living, strong, healthy, active, and ferocious, though the cold-air experiment was made five years ago. Of the other three, one broke its back in a fall, one died in giv- ing birth to young, and the third succumbed to paralysis. Cy De Vry at once revised his philosophy of animal hygiene; he recognized that the point was, not to make the climate adaptable to your animal, but to make your animal adapt itself to the climate. The Lincoln Park Zoo, winter and summer, now became an open-air, cold- air zoo. In nearly all the cages the heating apparatus was taken out, and the windows opened. All of the tropical animals, in winter time formerly kept in a high temperature, now breathe the air precisely as nature sup- plies it. There are shelters provided for them, of course, but nearly all of the animals spend the daytime in the open air. The sacred cattle of the East, the antelopes of India, the wild hogs of Mexico — all these hot-air ani- mals at home, adapt themselves to the natural temper- ature of Lincoln Park. Probably nowhere else may ostriches be seen plowing their way through the snow, or kangaroos jumping about when the thermometer is below the freezing point. As a result of this reform, there is no more tuberculosis in the park. In five years there has not been a single death from this disease. In every way' the animals show an increased vitality. Ordinarily monkeys do not breed Oxygenizing a City 353 in captivity; in the Lincoln Park Zoo, however, monkey babies are by no means rare. One, which was born last August, spent the entire winter outdoors, with a most invigorating effect. This particular section of Chicago is one place at least where the buffalo is not extinct; for here buffalo calves arrive so frequently that it is neces- sary to sell them to other gardens. Naturally this experience produced an impression upon Dr. Evans, the man responsible for the change. It had been possible to exercise despotic power over these ani- mals — to make them do precisely as he wished; and the intelligent exercise of this authority had caused the elimination of tuberculosis. Conceive, for a moment, the possibility of having such despotic control over human beings, and of making them live according to stipulated conditions; would it not be entirely probable that the same results would be accomplished? Events soon gave this same Dr. Evans, not the des- potic control that had driven tuberculosis from the Zoo, but a large measure of influence over health conditions in Chicago. When Mayor Fred A. Busse came into office in January, 1907, his greatest problem was the selecting of a Health Commissioner. For many years political control had hampered the Department of Health. Just before election the preceding administra- tion had appointed four hundred emergency inspectors — men added to the rolls ostensibly to assist in fighting a prevailing scarlet fever epidemic, but actually used by the machine in power to push the interests of their candidate. The public and the medical profession demanded that Mayor Busse should end abuses of this kind. The shrewder politicians suggested that the easiest way to achieve a great popular success would be by an efficient 354 Public Service administration of the Health Department. Acting upon these suggestions, Mayor Busse declared that he would appoint as Health Commissioner any man that the medi- cal profession would select. A large committee of rep- resentative Chicago doctors, appointed by the Mayor for this purpose, unanimously decided upon Dr. Evans. The new commissioner's quahfications were sound medical knowledge, youth, enthusiasm, fearlessness, ag- gressiveness, and a tireless capacity for work. By birth an Alabamian, Dr. Evans came to Chicago in the World's Fair year, when he was fresh from the medical school, and soon forged himself into prominence. In a short time he had been made President of the Chicago Medical Society, and had become an acknowledged expert on tuberculosis. Aside from his scientific qualifications, Dr. Evans had many personal recommendations. A man possessing a genial social gift, with a fondness for asso- ciating with people of all occupations and all classes, he soon became a part of Chicago life, and rapidly came to know this varied community in all its phases and in all its social and physical strata. A diplomat, talking with an amazing readiness in his quiet Southern drawl, now lighting up his subject with quaint illustration or con- vincing anecdote, now clinching his argument with what might almost be described as eloquence, logical, incisive. Dr. Evans combined in one person the several qualities essential to success in this important pubUc work. Nor could Dr. Evans have found a more suitable place than Chicago in which to apply, on a large scale, the lesson taught by the animals in the Lincoln Park Zoo. In the matter of Ught and air nature had done everything for Chicago; but, in the seventy years of its existence, it seemed as if man had steadily worked to obscure these Oxygenizing a City 355 natural advantages. Heaven never gave a community of men a more abundant or more unfailing supply of clean, fresh atmosphere. Few realize, the people of Chicago least of all, the services performed by an expansive body of water like Lake Michigan in purifying the air supply. It provides the air with indispensable moisture; and it acts as a huge filtering plant, picking up dust particles and bacteria and leaving for human consumption the unadulterated oxygen. Then, from the prairies comes the wind, that indispensable adjunct to thorough venti- lation — for good, breathable air, as all authorities insist, is, first and always, moving, circulating air. And what had Chicago done with the blessings so plentifully showered upon her? The black smoke of tens of thousands of factories, and of twenty-six railroad sys- tems, filled the city with a sooty cloud, which at times hung hke a black fog over Lake Michigan; it rushed in swirUng gusts through the deep, narrow streets, oozed into the shops, the office buildings, and the houses, de- stroying merchandise worth millions, and filtering into the nostrils, the mouths, and the lungs of nearly two and a quarter millions of people. The greed of man had built up mile after mile of dun-gray wooden rookeries, — fre- quently two or three buildings upon the same plot, — into which were crowded half-starved people from the most diseased nations of Europe. When at home, these people hved indecently crowded, whole families in three or two or even a single room; the long day they spent in the sweatshop, the packing house, or the sunless and airless factory. The more prosperous classes likewise seemed to have entered into a general conspiracy to shut out the wholesome air which was constantly knocking for admission. In an investigation early in his term, Dr. Evans showed 356 Public Service precisely the kind of air that the people of Chicago were breathing. He sent his inspectors every-where, armed with test tubes and queer little buzzing instruments. The inspectors, by placing the latter — technically known as anemometers — in window spaces and doors, measured the air supply; they took samples in their tubes, and made analyses of the contents. These men went into office buildings, theaters, churches, hotels, lodging houses, banks, laundries, public schools, street cars. Scientific analysis showed that in nearly all of these places the air was fairly Augean. The laboratory reported that, in one of the largest theaters, the "air was worse than that in Enghsh prison cells." In the street cars the passengers were breathing, along with minimum quantities of oxygen, microscopic particles of "soot, sand, hair, starch, wool from clothing," and other materials. This description, of course, fits most American cities, but in Chicago the fear of air — what might be called aerophobia — was especially acute. And, as the lack of ventilation here was particularly marked, so were the number of deaths that were due to it. Hygienists divide the contagious diseases chiefly into three classes, as being caused by one of three things — impure water, impure food, or impure air. Typhoid is the most im- portant disease of the first class, and is caused mainly by drinking impure water; dysentery is the most important of the second, caused largely by eating impure food; while the diseases most commonly caused by impure air are tuberculosis, pneumonia, and bronchitis. Everywhere modern science has made wonderful progress in combating the diseases caused by bad water and bad food. Take the city of Chicago, for example. It built its fandous drainage canal, and, at a stroke, cut Oxygenizing a City 357 down its typhoid rate nearly five hundred per cent. Thus, in the decade from 1880 to 1890, the typhoid death rate in Chicago was sixty-three per one hundred thousand ; in the period from 1900 to 1909 it was only twelve per one hundred thousand. By the careful inspection of food, especially the babies' milk supply, the dysentery death rate was cut in half. But the story of the im- pure-air diseases is not so reassuring. When Dr. Evans took charge of the Health Department in 1907, these diseases, instead of decreasing, were increasing. New York, Boston, and other American cities had made great progress in subduing tuberculosis; in Chicago the prog- ress was almost inappreciable. Pneumonia was ram- pantly on the increase. More people were d3dng of this than of any other disease. In Chicago, fifty years ago, pneumonia ranked eight as the most frequent cause of death; by 1907 it was first in rank. Dr. Evans constructed what he called his "Sanitary Trial Balance" for Chicago, "in account with the pre- ventable diseases." On the credit side he put the diseases that were decreasing; on the debit those that were increasing. This showed the bad-food diseases and the bad-water diseases on the credit side; but the bad- air diseases — pneumonia, tuberculosis, bronchitis, influ- enza — were on the debit side. He found that in 1906 nearly three thousand people in Chicago had died from bad-food and bad-water plagues, and that ten thousand had died from bad air. Dr. Evans first directed his attention to the street cars. In his opinion, human ingenuity had devised, in these useful vehicles, the most perfect instruments known for the rapid dissemination of contagious diseases. There is perhaps no place where human beings are so' frequently brought into immediate contact with one another, 358 Public Service under conditions so easily facilitating the exchange of disease germs. Morning and evening, every day, the street cars are packed with actively breathing humanity. In many cases the passengers have reached the cars after an exciting chase; they come in puffing, sneezing, coughing, and freely perspiring. If you should take a "vaporizer," mix its contents with pneumococci and tubercle bacilli, and then saturate your own or your neighbor's face, you would be doing precisely what thousands of street-railway passengers do twice a day. From their mouths and noses issues a fine spray, each particle of moisture perhaps loaded with germs. Closely packed together, your own nose is about six inches from your fellow sufferer's, just where it can most expeditiously pick up his particular disease. The new pay-as-you-enter cars have made ventilation almost impossible. No air sweeps through when the door is entered, because of the vestibule; the windows are so well constructed that little air filters in. The only provisions for fresh air are the small, slitlike windows in the roof of the car. These are useful only to illustrate the prevailing ignorance of the fimdamental principle of ventilation. As most people know, hot air rises, cold air descends. The foul air of crowded street cars is heated by electricity as well as by the warm bodies of the occupants. Under normal conditions it would escape through these roof openings; but when it tries to do so it meets the descending cold air, which checks it. The two currents, therefore, neutralize each other: the warm, dirty air ascending can not get out because of the de- scending cold air; the descending cold air can not get in because of the ascending warm air. Two years ago Dr. Evans approached the railroad companies and suggested changes. In all attempts to Oxygenizing a City 359 ventilate street cars, he insisted on the recognition of two fundamental principles: Some apparatus must be contrived to force the used-up warm air out at the top of the car; and the fresh cold air must be introduced at the bottom. Clearly, if the hot air could be pumped out at the ceiling line, a vacuum would be created, and the fresh air introduced at the car floor would immediately rise, and there would be a steady upward stream of life- giving, non-bacterial atmosphere. Dr. Evans explained all this to the railroad companies, but they did not readily see the point. He then promptly brought suits; but he did not have to push them far, for, as soon as they saw that the Health Commissioner meant business, the corporations agreed to ventilate their cars. Nothing is more significant of the new Chicago than its new street-railway system — its heavy rails, its commo- dious equipment, the large sums that it annually pays into the city treasury. Even more significant is the fact that the occupants of these cars are now assured of large supplies of clean, wholesome air. The surface and the elevated hues have already equipped several hundred cars with adequate ventilating systems, and before next winter sets in all the lines will have finished this work. The old street cars illustrated the quickly acting dangers of bad air — those of bacterial infection. The public schools well illustrated the slow acting — the lowered resistance to disease caused by spending nearly the en- tire day in close, hot, dry rooms. In the fall, the Chicago schools open their doors to thousands of bright-eyed, rosy-cheeked boys and girls. Then the janitor turns on the steam, the teacher shuts down the windows, and lessons begin. Soon the color disappears from the chil- dren's faces, the brightness from their eyes, the activity 360 Public Service from their bodies. They grow listless, stupid, irritable; they fall behind in their lessons, and become a problem and a torment to their teachers. Dr. Evans attributes these changes not so much to original sin as to bad ventilation. His air tests in the Chicago pubhc schools showed that they exemphfied all the terrors of hot-air heating. The most modern systems eliminated the use of windows and doors; the opening of the windows, indeed, usually disarranged them. In nearly every school a deadly feud was raging between the janitor and the teachers. The janitor had only one interest. The rule required seventy-two degrees of heat everywhere; he therefore kept his fires blazing and his steam coils sizzling in a frantic effort to maintain the standard. The gasping teacher and children, however, would occasionally seek relief by opening windows. But the heating system would not work with open windows; and the gentleman in the basement and the teacher were thus perennially on bad terms. Then began Dr. Evans's successful campaign for fresh air in the Chicago schools. And now Dr. Evans centered his attention upon a still more unfortunate class — the several thousand workers in bakeries and restaurant kitchens whom necessity had doomed to labor underground. An inspection showed that there were about fifteen hundred bakeshops in Chicago, nearly all of them below the pavement line. They were dirty, begrimed catacombs, heated with blaz- ing red furnaces, thickly populated with white-garmented, pasty-faced, slow-moving figures. These pallid inhabi- tants were usually panting for fresh air; in many cases no provision had been made for it at all; in some there was a small underground grated window opening toward the sidewalk — not a great amount of air came through Oxygenizing a City 361 this, though it was useful as a passageway for the street dust and surface filth to come into the bakery. Sometimes the bakers not only baked but slept ' in these caverns. They also used them as a shelter for their personal pets. Dr. Evans, with his chief sanitary inspector, Mr. Charles B. Ball, attacked this problem in a fundamental way. Mere improvement in these cases would not do; they must change the system. The Health Commissioner created a mild panic when he demanded suddenly that the worst of Chicago's bake-holes be closed and their occupants move into the sunlight. Inevitably the well- lubricated political machinery began to work. Each baker's particular alderman called — to plead, to threaten, to cajole.. Then came the familiar talk about "personal liberty" — a tyrannical bureaucrat was interfering with the bakers' "constitutional rights." Just then, however, an old-fashioned Chicago rainstorm set in, and the sewers backed water. Chicago learned that its staff of life was being kneaded and baked by hard-working men and women who were standing a foot or two in sewage. The Federal Constitution was now suddenly forgotten. Un- der Dr. Evans's prodding, the bakers began to creep out of their subterranean recesses, and to blink and rub then- eyes in the open daylight. Within two years nearly three hundred bakeries have abandoned their undergroimd quarters and moved into new first-floor estabhshments — with white-tiled rooms, screened windows, and open doors. In several hundred more the original location, although partly underground, was not so bad that proper light and ventilation could not be secured ; and these have made, or are making, the necessary changes. The new hygienic bakers are shrewdly taking business advantage of the reform; "Our bread is 362 Public Service baked in a fresh-air bakery" is a favorite form of adver- tising. Dr. Evans, in a written communication, demanded adequate ventilation in the seven or eight hundred nickel theaters in Chicago. And he specifically explained what he meant by "adequate ventilation." He suggested that each install an exhaust fan in the rear — a mechanism for pumping out the vitiated air. If this "draft" could once be secured, he reasoned, enough oxygen would enter by the front doors to maintain a fresh supply. A number of the worst places, on receipt of this demand, closed up at once; many made the required changes immediately; those that refused or delayed were prosecuted and fined. As a result of the Health Department's work, there is now an abundance of breathable air in all of Chicago's low-priced theaters. Dr. Evans became an agitator — a spellbinder for fresh air. Chicago now realized that it had another spirit of unrest — that the Health Commissioner proposed to carry his campaign to every fireside. Dr. Evans went actively upon the stump, preaching this new evangel from many platforms. From his office staff he organized a lecture bureau, pressing into service every man with the slightest suspicion of a talent for public speaking. He thus collected ten or a dozen men, who, in virtually every corner of Chicago, made a daily business of address- ing audiences on this subject. Dr. Evans regards school-teachers and school-children as perhaps the most useful objects of his missionary efforts. Probably in no place in the world has there been so much talk about fresh air as in the Chicago public schools in the last three years. The teachers devote certain hours every week to repeating Dr. Evans's lesson to the children. THE ART OF SAVING CHARACTERS By R. E. PHILLIPS. jHERE is no greater problem in practical philanthropy than that of making useful citizens of the youthful unfortunates of our big cities. The following comparison based on personal observation shows two tendencies: to make criminals by the method of institutional "reform"; and citizens by the newer "republic." First, then, the institution. In two typical examples — the New York Juvenile Asylum and the House of Refuge on Randall's Island — the population averages eight hundred; in the "Refuge" delinquents of both sexes, varying in age from six to twenty; at the "Juve- nile" both destitutes and delinquents. In both institu- tions prison government prevails. At the "Juvenile" the routine begins with a three weeks' detention in the "House of Reception." Here, after a physical examination, candidates are taught "obedience." Then follows a fortnight of "quarantine," a dingy little yard shut in by high walls and ruled by a guard. The children call it "soak." It is really a pre- caution against disease; to the children it is detention. The twelve acres of the grounds are enclosed by a "substantial stone wall and picket fence," the buildings and yards shut in by an additional "brick wall eight feet high." The inmates are prisoners, watched con- stantly by guards and with no opportunity to escape. ' From " The World's Work." By permission of Doubleday, Page & Company. Copyright, 1901. 363 364 Public Service In one of the boys' playgrounds an imaginary line halves the yard in the center, across which no one without special permit may pass. Violations of the rule are punished, not by "spanking" as formerly, but by class- room methods or by depriving the culprit of food. In the "Refuge" there is a step in advance. Here to the "stone-wall" confinement is added rigid prison dis- cipline. No talking is allowed during meals; in the work- shops at the entrance of an officer the inmates rise and stand at salute until the officer passes; in the evening they file to bed and retire on signal — "Shoes," "Kneel," "Bed," and so on. The older boys are confined at night in cells, of which there are more than two hundred, serving also as places of solitary confinement in cases of disobedience. In such cases the culprit must stand up, and the fare is bread and water with one service of meat and vegetables every other day. Carefully inspected school work covering public-school studies takes half the time, and manual training half. In the "Refuge" the products of the manual-training class were formerly sold, but through a decrease in the de- mand the cane-chair-seat industry is dying out and in the woolen-stocking room, where I saw several thousand pairs stored ready for market, I was told that the work had stopped because there was "no money in it." The trade schools in both institutions teach shoemaking, tailoring, carpentry, printing, and the like. In addition, the "Juvenile" gives instruction to small evening classes in typewriting and telegraphy. This, then, is the system. What are the results? The superintendent of the "Refuge" recently said that omitting printing and flori- culture the trade schools were unsatisfactory. It is stated that the shoes and clothing made at the "Refuge" are better than those of similar price outside. Moreover, The Art of Saving Character 365 from odd jobs assigned last year the institution saved more than ten thousand dollars at the low rate of seventy-five cents a day. At the "Juvenile," it is true, a small sum is set apart monthly for special work. As an offset to the lack of incentive, class-room records are sent to parents, guardians, or "friends." Here is the way one small boy summed up the "Juve- nile." "Well," he said, "you gets up in the morning an' goes t'rough de same game every day fer eighteen months — ef you'se lucky. You works an' you don't get nothin'. An' what is it when you gets t'rough?" This boy was "doing time" in another institution. For the majority "getting t'rough" means a return to the old Ufe. To this there is one notable exception. For many years the managers of the "Juvenile" have "placed out" certain inmates every year on Western farms. The re- sults in almost all cases prove successful — not, however, as claimed, because of previous institutional training. The manager of a large "placing out" agency told me that of his candidates, from all sources, those with pre- vious training in institutions were the least independent and least trustworthy. Last year, moreover, out of eleven hundred and sixty discharged less than one- tenth could be "placed out." Over one-half were re- turned without occupation to their old surroundings. As a result, to both these institutions one-tenth are recom- mitted — some for a third and fourth time. For the rest it is a matter of record on the authority of a former superintendent that one-half the inmates of the Ehnira Reformatory, a State penal institution, are graduates of other institutions. This fact shows that present insti- tutional methods produce criminals and state depend- ents rather than useful and independent citizens. In striking contrast is the George Junior Republic at 366 Public Service Freeville, N. Y. This was started in the fall of 1895 by- Mr. W. R. George — the result of several years' experi- ence with deUnquent children in New York City. In- deed, the first step toward the "RepubUc" idea was the founding of a boys' club in the vicinity of Eleventh Street and First Avenue in 1890. The next step was to take a number of the street children to the country for the summer. More than two hundred children had a two weeks' outing. But the farmers nearby demanded pro- tection. Moreover, pauperism began to show itself. The children, after receiving food and clothing without work, demanded them as a right. This led to the prin- ciple of the Republic — "nothing without labor." At this time, too, the "jury" system was tried. Finally the George Junior RepubUc was begun. At present the RepubUc Association owns about two hundred acres of rich farming land with suitable accom- modations. Part of these — the hotel, for instance — are owned and controlled by "citizens." Moreover, the children make their own laws, elect their own officers and work out their own questions of money matters and punishment. Their constitution provides that Mr. George (or "Daddy" as they call him) shall be president pro tern of the RepubUc in case the office falls vacant. He can also veto new laws. "But," said Mr. George the other day, "I don't con- sider it my place to interfere. The 'citizens' are the first to suffer from mistakes and so the first to correct." In fact, Mr. George and the other overseers merely decide cases brought by appeal from the citizens' court and complaints against "helpers" (instructors in the trade schools and teachers); except in such cases they keep aloof. "Nothing is given away at this place — only Heaven," The Art of Saving Character 367 said a citizen. Here is a typical incident: a small boy was sent to the Republic a short time ago for larceny — with good clothes and a Uttle money. While his money lasted he lived at the hotel for five dollars a week, and refused to work. Presently as his funds ran short he got cheaper lodgings and went from the twenty-five to the fifteen cent dining-room. His next move was to trade his clothes. Finally, he appeared one evening at the hotel door in a shabby sUit and asked to be trusted for a meal. He was repulsed; the hotel is run on a cash basis. The next morning he was digging in the "ditch" — the only job available. In some cases, however, such bankrupits try to escape. Four tough youngsters from the Bowery recently made the attempt, vowing that if the "cop," known as "Woodsy," pxu-sued them, they would "show the bloke; they would t'row him in the creek." That night five battered youths marched up to the jail, four of whom were locked up. The prisoners are now industrious citizens; and all declare unanimously that "Woodsy is a peach." Some of the new arrivals, it was found, would work only hard enough to pay their board. Often idle, they interfered with the work of others. To meet such cases a law was passed making any citizen with less than a dollar a vagrant. Cases of vagrancy are discovered by a monthly census; the penalty is usually a fine of a dollar and a half, to be paid in work. It sometimes happens, however, that a citizen finds himself unable to "hold down" a job. For these a "list crowd" has been started whose labor an agency buys and lets out at five cents an hour. The proceeds go to the agency; in return, it fur- nishes board and lodging. Thus the "crowd" earns a bare living. 368 Public Service A most interesting phase of this situation has lately developed. The "Sand" company saw in the "list crowd" a chance for a labor monopoly. So buying up this labor from the agency at five cents an hour, they now let it out at fifteen. In case there is no demand for labor the "crowd" is employed on the company's own work, and as the rate the other employees of the com- pany receive is ten cents an hour, it makes a profit in any event, for the original agency must still pay the board. The incident shows the prevalent business enterprise. The various trades are controlled by partnership com- panies. One of the partners is usually a "helper" or instructor, and the other a "citizen." They run their own business, employ labor and divide profits. For in- stance, a short time ago, when a new building was needed, the carpenters who had previously built the hospital entered into competition with outside firms, underbid them and got the contract, amounting to several thousand dollars. In all departments of manual labor — masonry, carpentry, farming, printing, and the like — wages aver- age about ten cents an hour. Extra pay is given to those holding "government" positions. It is interesting to see what is done with the money. There are about one hundred citizens. Five hundred dollars is the aver- age amount in circulation, reckoned in the special alu- minum currency of the RepubHc, which is redeemed at twenty cents on the dollar when a citizen leaves the RepubUc. Naturally the larger part is controlled by a few "capitaUsts" among the older and more thrifty citizens. But all have the handling of the money they earn. Interest on loans has in some cases gone as high as twenty-five per cent a month. Now, however, all interest is fixed at a regular legal rate. "Going bail" is The Art of Saving Character 369 the only risk undertaken without adequate security, but only those get bail who are considered "safe." The principle of protection of property is the basis of the unique legal system of the Repubhc. In this system the first step in proposing a bill is to file a written copy with the Secretary of State. If passed by a majority vote of the town meeting it is referred to the President. His approval makes it a law. In case of veto it becomes a law only by a two-thirds vote of all citizens. The laws vary from restriction of larceny to nuisance and dis- orderly conduct. For instance, smoking in this Repubhc is punishable by a fine of five dollars or five days' imprison- ment; for the second offense, five dollars and five days; and for the third, ten dollars or twenty days, or both. For reading obscene Hterature, or having it in possession, the fine is "not less than one dollar nor more than five, and confinement in the workhouse from one to ten days." Again, if a pohceman "sasses" a Pohce Commissioner, he is warned in the first instance; in the second, fined five dollars; and in the third, discharged. This is called the "Sedition Law." It is further provided that any one who has been in jail must "take a bath and change his clothes before sleeping in any of the hotels of the George Junior Republic." In the majority of cases the trials are by jury. The first or "petty" jury, consisting of four citizens, re- quires a unanimous verdict. The Grand Jury (six mem- bers) requires only a majority. I was allowed, by special permission, to attend one of the secret sessions where the District Attorney was pleading for an indictment for larceny before the Grand Jury. A small citizen — a girl — had bought a pair of slippers at the Repubhc store for fifty cents, and sold them for seventy-five, but, instead of delivering the goods, sold them again for fifty 370 Public Service cents more. These facts were brought out from wit- nesses. Then the prisoner was brought in. In spite of her plea of innocence the jury retiu-ned a "true bill." All this, with the release of the prisoner on bail, was in- tensely serious. There were, however, one or two humor- ous moments. For instance, when the court was called to order one of the jurors was missing. A recess was taken to find him. Presently the missing member ap- peared before the courthouse. Immediately there was a tumult. Everybody leaned out of the windows and yelled at the delinquent juryman. He paid no attention until one of the bigger boys shouted out, "Shandy!" "What?" "Aw, you knows very well what — come in here or I'll punch yom- nose !" That settled it. "Shandy " appeared and deliberations proceeded. Later, as this was her second offense, the prisoner was sentenced to two months' imprisonment in the "reforma- tory." She was led away crying. This is by no means the severest penalty. Prison to the boys means work on the ' ' gang, " without pay, on fifteen-cent meals. The gkls wear convict stripes like the boys; and in addition the law provides a "hair-cut" for the first and "all off" for the second criminal offense. But even with such a radical system, one of the boys in jail remarked: "It's the worst place if you 're bad and the best place if you 're decent I was ever in." They all recognize that for whatever they do they are going to "get what's coming." Moreover, no stigma is attached to imprisonment. All on release become citizens in good standing. At the outset the money received in fines was one of the chief sources of revenue. Indeed, under the old system, aside from a rate of one, three, or five per cent on land and property values, no taxes were collected. Since March of this year, however, all property has been The Art of Saving Character 371 assessed at a three per cent semiannual rate on two- thirds the actual value. This assessment amounts to more than fifteen thousand dollars. Of this the hotel company — including the hotel, Howland House, and Rockefeller cottage — pays the rate on four thousand dollars; the laundry building on two thousand dollars; the farm (including buildings) on four thousand five hundred dollars; and so on. In addition, a tariff is charged on all imports — at first, thirty per cent on everything. Now it varies. In the days of the "fresh- air" visitors, the boys instead of working used to bring in apples from neighboring orchards. Apples sold for ten cents apiece. A thirty per cent tariff aboUshed this "easy money" and made the "financiers" work. In another instance a "blacking trust" was formed. Two companies bought up all the blacking in the Republic and charged twenty-five cents a "shine." They refused, however, to pay a fifteen per cent tariff on profits and so eventually went out of business. The revenue receipts together with a poll tax of twenty-five cents a week have already reduced the former debt of five hundred dollars about one-half, and pay for running expenses without deficit. Even school work is paid for at the rate of two dollars a week, to compensate in part for time lost from regular "jobs." But, vice versa, nothing is given without work, and no excuse is taken for failure. A short time ago a cottage built by the Association was offered for sale. Six boys formed a company and agreed to take it at thirteen hundred dollars, to be met by quarterly .pay- ments of fifty dollars apiece, with interest at two per cent a month on the unpaid principal. After several pay- ments the Association found that the boys were imable to keep competent help. No one would hire out to them. 372 Public Service As a result the place, as the boys admitted, was "on the bum." They received notice, therefore, to vacate on the ground that one of the quarterly installments had not been paid on time. At present the cottage is rented, and the Association is looking for more responsible buyers. Compared with the institutions the results here show a most remarkable contrast. Though the boys and girls associate on equal terms, there has been onlj- one in- stance of trouble. General "badness" accompanied by ordinary inteUigence is, according to 'Mr. George, the chief requisite for admission to the Republic. To avoid the reproach of a reformatory, however, a few are re- ceived from good homes and without previous records, though these cases are almost invariably the least satis- factory. From all soiu-ces the nvunber received since 1895 is two hundred and forty-seven. Of the whole number only one has been arrested after lea^-ing the Repubhc. An- other employed in a factory near Freeville was accused of stealing a wheel. In all, seven have been marked "misatis- factory." That is, they either have no positions or have not filled them successfully. Of the rest, four are work- ing their way through college, five are in preparation, and the others, without exception, hold good business positions. The naive reply of a Uttle girl who was asked "What do you httle citizens possess that we older per- sons do not?" who answered "Self-control," shows the idea the Repubhc stands for. In short, the practical results that come from a clear appreciation of the broad imderlying principles of the Repubhc differen- tiate it from the "institution," and tend to give society a citizen rather than a criminal. BEN B. LINDSEY: THE JUST JUDGE ^ By LINCOLN STEFFENS ^N the County Court of Denver, one night, a boy was arraigned for larceny. The hour was late; the calendar was long, and the Judge was sitting overtime. Weary of the weary work, everybody was forcing the machinery of the law to grind through at top speed the dull routine of justice. All sorts of causes go before this court, grand and petty, civil and criminal, complicated and simple. The petty larceny case was plain; it could be disposed of in no time. A theft had been committed; no doubt of that. Had the prisoner at the bar done it? The sleepy policeman had his wit- nesses on hand and they swore out a case. There was no doubt about it; hardly any denial. The law prescribed precisely what was to be done to such "cases," and the bored judge ordered that that thing be done. That was all. In the same breath with which he pronounced sen- tence, the Court called for the "next case," and the shift was under way, when something happened, something out of the ordinary. A cry, an old woman's shriek, rang out of the rear of the room. There was nothing so very extraordinary about that. Our courts are held in public; and every now and then somebody makes a disturbance such as this old woman made when she rose now with that cry on her lips and, tearing her hair and rending her garments, began 'By permission of the Author and The S. S. McClure Company. Copyright, 1906. 373 374 Public Service to beat her head against the wall. It was the duty of the bailiff to put the person out, and that officer in this coirrt moved to do his duty. But the man on the bench was Ben B. Lindsey, the celebrated Judge of the Juvenile Court of Denver. He was not celebrated then; he had no Juvenile Court. He was only a j'oung lawyer and politician who, for pohtical services, had been appointed to fill out an unex- pired term as County Judge. lindsey did not want to be a judge; he had asked for the district attorneyship. His experiences on the inside of pohtics had shown him that many things were wrong, and he had a private theory that the way to set the evils right was to enforce the law, as the Law. But another man, Harry A. lindsley, had a prior claim on the district attorneyship, and Ben Lindsey had to take the judgeship or nothing. So he had taken it (January 8, 1901), and he had been administering justice — as justice — for several weeks when that woman cried out against his "justice," and his "bailee" moved to uphold the de- corum of his coiu-t, the dignity of the law. And — the Judge upheld the woman. "I had noticed her before," he says now. "As my eye wandered during the evening it had fallen several times on her, crouched there among the back benches, and I remem- ber I thought how Uke a cave dweller she looked. I did n't connect her with the case, any case. I did n't think of her in any hiunan relationship whatever. For that matter, I had n't considered the larceny case ia any human way. And there's the point: I was a judge, judging 'cases' according to the 'law,' till the cave dweller's mother-cry startled me into hiunanity. It was an a-n-ful cry, a terrible sight, and I was stunned. I looked at the prisoner again, but with new eyes now, and I saw the boy, an ItaUan Ben B. Lindsey 375 boy. A thief ? No. A bad boy? Perhaps, but not a lost criminal. "I called him back, and I had the old woman brought before me. Comforting and quieting her, I talked with the two together, as mother and son this time, and I found that they had a home. It made me shudder. I had been about to send that boy to a prison among criminals when he had a home and a mother to go to. And that was the law! The fact that that boy had a good home ; the circumstances which led him to — not steal, but 'swipe' something; the likelihood of his not doing it agaiu — these were ' evidence ' pertinent, nay vital, to his case. "Yet the law did not require the production of such evidence. The law? Justice? I stopped the machinery of justice to pull that boy out of its grinders. But he was guilty; what was to be done with him? I did n't know. I said I would take care of him myself, but I did n't know what I meant to do, except to visit him and his mother at their home. And I did visit them, often, and — well, we — his mother and I, with the boy helping — we saved the boy, and to-day he is a fine young fellow, industrious, self- respecting, and a friend of the Court." This was the beginning, the Judge will tell you, of his practice of putting juvenile offenders, not in prison, to be punished, but on probation, to be saved. It was not. The Judge is looking backward, and he sees things in retrospect as he has thought them out since, logically, with his mind. If you should take his word for it, you would get the im- pression that this first "probation case" was the beginning of his famous Juvenile Court, the most remarkable institu- tion of the kind in all the world. And if you got that impression in just that way, you might do as the reformers of some twenty-five states and a few hundred cities have 376 Public Service done — you might lose the sigmficance of Judge Lindsey. You might learn his methods and miss the man. You might imitate his "Kids' Court" and make a mistake with both the "kids" and their " Jedge," as they call him. And you certainly would do, as Denver desires to do, and Colorado — limit the meaning of Judge Ltndsey's life work to the problem of the children. Ben Lindsey's "methods" are as appUcable to grown- ups as to "kids." Man has a way of inventing devices to help him to be a man : a spear, an army, the Church, poht- ical parties, business. By and by the aid to his weakness comes to be a fetish ■nith him, a burden, an end in itself, an institution. He decorates his spear, keeping a com- moner weapon to hunt -n-ith. His army returns from fighting his enemies to conquer him. Priests declare the Church holy and, instead of ministering to men, make men minister to the Chiuch. Political parties, foimded to estabUsh principles for the strengthening of the State and its citizenship, betraj^ principles and manhood and the State for the "good of the party." Business, the mere machinery of hving, has become in America the piu-pose of life, the end to which aU other goods — honor, rehgion, pohtics, men, women, and chil- dren, the very nation itself — are sacrificed. And so \\-ith the laws and the courts. Jmrists and legislators note and deplore the passing of respect for the law and of faith in the courts, and they wonder why. It is largely because we laymen think we observe that legislation purporting to be for the common good is bought for the special evils; that laws enacted to help us are manipulated to our hurt; and that our courts, set up to render justice, either make a worship of the letter of the law or ^dolate the spirit thereof to work dehberate injustice. As for the penal code, novuished by the centiuies to prevent crime, it is Ben B. Lindsey 377 operated as escapes for the strong criminal or as instru- ments of society's revenge upon the weak. Ben Lindsey's great, new, ancient discovery is that men are what we are after, men and women; and that every- thing else, business and laws, poUtics, the Chiu-ch, the schools — these are not institutions, but means to those higher ends, character and right Uving. He began with the laws, the law he was prepared to revere. He saw that the law was capable of stupid injustices and gross wrongs; and setting humanity up on the bench beside his authority, he has reduced the law to its proper, humble function — the service of men and the State. He has drawn the sting of punishment out of the penal code, stamped out the spirit of vengeance; he has tried to make his- court a place where the prisoners at the bar are helped to become good men and useful citizens. His greatest service has been to boys and girls, but that is only because he found in children the most helpless vic- tims of our machine system of "businesslike justice." He has created in his Juvenile Court a new human institu- tion, the beauty and use of which is spreading imitative "movements" all over the land. But, wonderful as his creation is, this man should not be known as the founder of another institution. That might become, like certain societies for the prevention of cruelty to animals or to chil- dren, only another "end in itself." Judge Lindsey is a man, a brave, gentle man, who is reintroducing into Ufe, all life, and into all the institutions which he can influence, the spirit of hiunanity. As he puts it in his "Problem of the Children," "these great move- ments for the betterment of our children are simply typical of the noblest spirit of this age, the Christ-spirit of unself- ish love, of hope and joy. It has reached its acme in what were formerly the criminal courts. The old process is 378 Public Service changed. Instead of coming to destroy, we come to rescue. Instead of coming to punish, we come to uplift. Instead of coming to hate, we come to love." That the man has this more general significance is shown by the gradual, apparently accidental way in which he de- veloped his "methods" and his com't. He did not think them out with his mind. That is not the way big, human things are done in this big, hmnan world of ours; they are felt out with the heart. The man Lindsey had heart, and the cave dweller's cry reached it, and when the Judge felt her agony, he found himself. That was all. His judgment in this case was but the beginning of Judge Lindsey's practice of putting heart into his business. He did not know what probation was when he said he himself would take care of the cave dweller's boy. We have seen that he had not thought of being a judge, and the idea of a Juvenile Court had not dawned upon him. It took other cases to "set him thinking." The other cases came. One day a "biuglary" appeared on his calendar. The Judge says he looked around curiously for the burglars. He saw none till the case was called. Then three boys were haled whimpering before him, three ordinary, healthy American boys from twelve to sixteen. What had they burglarized? A pigeon loft. A pigeon loft! Yes, your Honor, they broke into a pigeon loft and were caught red- handed stealing pigeons. That was bxirglary; there was no doubt about the crime. What was to be done with the burglars? They were to be sent to the reformatory, of course; the Law prescribed the penalty. The Judge shook his head, "No." He did not say so in court then, but he tells now how he was recalUng the time when he, as a boy, went robbing a pigeon loft. He did not actually commit "burglary," but he would have, if he had not lost his nerve. He was "scared"; the other kids had Ben B. Lindsey 379 told him so, and it was true. And they left him, in com- tempt and ashamed, while they robbed the coop. So he was not an ex-convict, not because he was a good boy, no; nor because he was "smaller than them," though that was a plea set up in the gang in his behalf. He was not a bur- glar, like these boys before him now, simply because he did not have so much "sand" as they had. Was he going to punish them as burglars, "send them up" for crime to Uve among criminals? No. But the complainant had a view to present. A worried, old, persecuted man, he told how boys were forever steal- ing his pigeons; how he had "laid for" them again and again; how they generally escaped; and how, finally, after many failures, he had caught these three. He wanted them pimished; he begged to have them sent "to jail." There was something familiar in the appearance of the poor old pigeon fancier, and the Judge questioned him: where he lived; where his barn was; just where the pigeon loft was; what his name was; whether he had a nickname. The old man answered, peevishly, but fully enough for the Judge to learn what he wanted to know. This was the very man, his were the pigeons, his loft was the same old loft which he, the Judge, and his gang had burglarized years ago. And now the law expected him, a judge, to send to prison these boys who were no worse than he was; nay, who were better, for they had the "sand" he lacked! If he, the Judge, had been sent up for bizrglary he might not have become County Judge, and if he did not send up these boys as burglars, they might become county judges or — since they had more "sand" — something better. But there was the law; what about that? The boys had committed a crime; what was the Judge to do with them? He did not know; he would have to "think it over." And he thought it over. He went back to first 380 Public Service principles. What did the complaiaant really want? Only to have his property protected. And what was the law against burglary for? To protect property by prevent- ing burglary. Was there no other way to achieve these common ends except by punishing these boys as brnglars? And if he put them in prison might not other boys go on robbing the pigeon loft? The Judge says it is "out of the mouths of babes" that he has learned wisdom. He took the prisoners into his chamber, and he talked with them. Now, the Judge's talks with boys and girls are regarded with superstition by some people; he gets such wonderful results — the truth, for example. Children who lie to their parents, their teachers, and the poUce, tell him every- thing. The poHce started a story that Judge Lindsey is a "hypnotist," and others speak wisely of his "method." His "method" is very simple; he employed it before he knew it was a "method," with his Italian "thief" and his first trio of "bm-glars." Friendship is the key. Judge Lindsey talks to boys as one boy talks to another. His personal appearance helps him. The "Jedge" is a short, slight, boyish looking young man, open-faced, direct, sincere, and he lays off the ermine, figuratively speaking, very readily; indeed, he hardly ever puts it on now, even on the bench. In chambers he comes right down to earth, using boy talk, including slang. For this he has been crit- icized by good people who think of English as an institu- tion, to be kept pure. The Judge answers that he has something else in mind than the purity of the language. He has found "after four years' experience that the judi- cious use of a few of these slang terms not only does not hiu-t the boy, but actually helps him and wins his confi- dence," and since the boys are what he is after, he declares he will "continue to talk to the boys to a certain extent much the same as they talk with one another." Ben B. Lindsey 381 As a matter of fact, it is an instinct with the Judge, a part of his simple naturalness and his native desire to un- derstand others, which prompts him to say "fellers"; "ah, say, kids, let 's cut it out." When he called in his burglars, it was no judge that asked them if they belonged to a gang. It was no fatherly elder, wisely pretending to a superior sort of interest in the habits and customs of their "crowd," and the Umits of their range or habitat. It was "one feller askin' th' other fellers, on the level now, all about swipin' pigeons." The reason he, the Judge, and his gang robbed the coop was to get a certain variety of fantail pigeons which the old man would not sell, and he understood it when the boys explained that what they were after, really, was to get back some of their pigeons which had joined the old man's bigger flock. Also, however, the boys understood the Judge when he reflected that it was not right to go and "rob back " your pigeons; that it annoyed the old man; wronged him and hurt the boys. Maybe the old man was grouchy, but gee, the coop was his, and "swiping" was not "square." It was sneaky, it was weak to steal. So he proposed to stop this "weakness" of this gang; not only of the three that had been caught, but of the whole gang. Now, the Judge teaches respect for grown-up law by himself invariably showing great respect for "kid law." It is against the law of Boyville to "snitch" (tattle). So he would not let them tell him who the other "burglars" were. "But, say, fellers," he said, "you bring in the other kids, and we '11 talk it over, and we '11 see if we can't agree to cut out steaUng altogether, and especially to stop swipin' pigeons off the old man." That was fair and it was human. They went away, and they got the gang. And the gang entered into a deal with the "Jedge"; "sure they did." Who wouldn't? And 382 Public Service do you t hink they would go back on a Judge like that? Sure they would n't, and they would n't let any other feUer go back on Viim either; not much; not if they coidd prevent it; and they thought they could. And they did, as they reported from time to time. It was this case, which, coming home so personally to him, set the Judge thinking. "It seemed to me," he says, "that we were not proceeding just right in such cases. I did n't know anything about it, but it looked ^\Tong to charge these boys with burglary. It was un- necessary under the law, too ,' the school law of 1899 per- mitted children to be brought to the County Court as 'juvenile disorderl}' persons.' And here they were being arrargned as thieves and burglars. We were dealing with the thing the child did, not with the child; and the child was what should concern us. " I don't blame anybodj- in particular. I had been at fault mj'self. A good many children were brought into my court, and I had been following the thoughtless routine. The fact is, I was pretty free in sending boys to the Industrial School at Golden till these special cases awoke my special interest. Then I began to con- sider the situation generally. I found that there was no system about the juvenile cases. Some were sent to the District Court, others to the Justice Courts, others to mine. We all were ' trying ' the boys for the ' crimes ' they had committed, finding many of them guilty and sending them away. It was absm-d; it was criminal, really. The thing a child had stolen was treated as of more importance than the child. This was carrying the idea of property to an extreme. "It was time to get back to the idea of men and women, the men and women of to-morrow, and obviously some system of character-bmlding was needed in the court. Ben B. Lindsey 383 Fortunately, there were laws in existence under which juvenile offenders could be brought into court as 'depend- ent,' 'neglected,' or 'deUnquent' children, and these laws were enough as they stood for the starting of a Juvenile Court. We hoped to get other laws later; but those that we had would enable us to treat the children, rather than the children's 'crimes.' " Judge Lindsey went to District Attorney Lindsley with the request that all children's cases be brought to his court; and that they be accused there of delinquency in- stead of the particular crimes for which they were arrested. The District Attorney was wiUing. Lindsey's request was regarded as "queer," but nobody wanted the bother of these "kids' cases," so the Judge was permitted to found his "Kids' Court." And he foimded it, and it is the " Edds' Court," their very own. It is run in the interest of the "bad" boys and girls, and therefore of the State, and the children needed the court, and so did the State. While the Judge was "thinking," the question arose in his mind: "What sort of a place is the Industrial School where I have been sending boys so freely?" He went to Golden to see. Nobody up there remem- bered ever having been visited before by a judge on the bench, and this judge saw boys with the ball and chain on them. He began a quiet reform of the reformatory. Then he asked himself what kind of places the jails were. One Sunday evening, he visited the city jail. "It was a dirty, filthy place," he says. "The plaster was off the walls, which were crawHng with vermin." He went over to the county jail. The conditions were much the same, but what stirred up the Judge's" thought " to the bottom of his heart was the sight of boys in the same cells with men and women "of the vilest type." A Uttle further inquiry showed him that these children were 384 Public Service allowed to associate freely with grown criminals. Locked up with them in the county jail, they visited the men in the bull-pen down in the city jaU. The boys liked to Us- ten to the "great criminals," and the great criminals hked to brag to the boys. It was a school of crime. The men told the boys how they "beat the poUce" and, filling them with criminal ideas, taught them how to commit "great crimes." "I found that in the five years before I went on the bench two thousand one hundred and thirty-six Denver boys had been in these jails for periods varying from a few hours to thirty daj's, and," the Judge adds, in his mild way, "I was satisfied the influence was not good. But that was typical. This was being done all over the country, and it is now in many places. Every boy who makes a mistake, or if you will, every child that shows any tendency to crime, is sent to a school where crime is taught. Is it any wonder that juvenile crime is on the increase?" And the Judge found that juvenile crime was on the increase generally in the United States. He engaged the services of a cHpping biu-eau, and he quotes in his "Prob- lem of the Children" some of the results: "Five thousand boys arrested last year" (in one citjO ; "Four thousand out of sixteen thousand arrests last year were boj's under twenty" (in a city of less than one hundred and fifty thousand); "Bandits Caught, Mere Boys" (a frequent headline); "Over half the murderers last year were boys"; "Boy Burglars Getting Common"; "Thieving Increasing among Children"; three-quarters of the crimes com- mitted in the United States, the Judge says, are done by boys imder twenty-three. "And why not?" he asks. "The children of parents who die or fail in their duty are taken by the State and sent for their schooling into the Ben B. Lindsey 385 streets or jails, where they pick up false ideals and criminal arts. With few exceptions, all these boy criminals named above, whom society has sent to the slaughterhouse to be killed, had been sent to jail in their teens by society for other crimes. And most of them were first imprisoned as little children." In other words, our criminal court system does not pre- vent, it fosters crime. Our "businessUke" procedure of heartless, thoughtless "justice" makes criminals. What should the State do? The Judge says that when the State gets hold of a "bad" child, it takes the place of the parent, and, like a good parent, it should try to mold that child into a good citizen. He gives an illustration in his "Prob- lem of the Children." "We recall the case" (and it is one of hundreds), the Judge says there, "of a young man who had been in the criminal courts at the age of thirteen. At twenty he shot down a poUceman who was heroically doing his duty. Suppose that at the age of thirteen that boy had been studied, helped, looked after, and carefully handled; would that poUceman be maimed for hfe or dead, a yoimg wife and child a charge on the community, and a strong, robust young man a charge on the State for hfe? Perhaps not, and even so we could have felt better about it, and in the sight of God less accountable. Was the State respon- sible? Yes, even more than the boy, for he was in jail in the plastic stage. The State had him ia time, and it did nothing — not even try. The State treated him as a man, this boy. . . . Strange that if his money or property were involved he could control none of it; he would need a guardian in that case. A boy's property is important. But his morals — the boy, the man in embryo, the citizen to be — needed no guardian. This boy needed no help. He needed punishment. He needed retribution, and so 386 Public Service as a boy he got what men got, that which is often barba- rous even for men. I have seen them, eleven to fifteen years of age, in the same bull-pen with men and women, with chains about their waists and hmbs. And 1 have seen them crowded together in idleness, in filthy rooms where suggestiveness fills the mind with all things ^dle and lewd. Such has been too often the first step taken by the great State in the correction of the child." Judge Lindsey foimded his Juvenile Court to correct and save to the State the children who were caught up in the meshes of the criminal law, and his first step was the correction of himseK and of the court. Having to start only the idea, which was reaUj- Httle more than a senti- ment, that the welfare of the child prisoner was the chief consideration, he had to institute proceedings to meet the needs of the child. What were those needs? The Judge did not know, and he had no theory; he had to find out for himseK. How did he go about finding out? Very simply, very naturally. He asked the child. One of the first, most obvious observations he made was that children came into court with either tears or de- fiance in their eyes. The}' hated the pohceman, and they feared the Judge, and since the "cop" and the Court were the personification of justice and the State, these young citizens were being reared in the spirit of dread and hatred of law and authority. This was aU wrong, and yet it was perfectlj- natm-al. "The criminal court for child offenders," writes the Judge, "is based on the doctrine of fear, degradation, and pimishment. It was, and is, absurd. The Juvenile Court was founded on the principle of love. We assimied that the child had committed, not a crime, but a mistake, and that he deserved correction, not pimishment. Of coiu-se, there is firmness and justice, for without these Ben B. Lindsey 387 there would be danger in leniency. But there is no justice without love." The Judge drove out fear from his court, and hate and brutality; for awe, he substituted confidence and affection. How did he do this? By coming down off the bench to the boy. Since the boy was the center of interest, the Judge subordinated his own "dignity" and the whole machinery of the court and even the "stolen property," to win back the prisoner at the bar. The good of the boy, obviously paramount in the mind of the Court, was made paramount in the mind of the boy, who was led to feel that everybody cared about him, that everything done was done for him and in his interest. "Of course," he says, "the law is important, but the vital thing is the relationship established with the child. The case from the boy's standpoint must be understood." Each case, the Judge means. He seeks to get for himself a personal, sympathetic understanding of each separate case. There are no hard and fast rules. No fixed routine wiU do the work. The Judge did not turn away hate, quiet fear, and dry tears by any "methods." When a child is brought weeping or scowhng before him, Ben Lind- sey is dragged off that bench by his heartstrings, and when he sits on a stool beside the boy in trouble, or goes for a walk with him, or takes him home to dinner or "out to the show," this is no art thought out by a wise man. This is nothing but a good man putting into his work what he wants to get out of it — "faith, hope, and love." To understand the case of Ben Lindsey it is necessary to study it as he advises us to study the cases of boys. "Never let a child get away with a He on his soul," the Judge says. "A clean breast is half the battle." Chil- dren are wonderful Hars, but the Judge thinks he can tell when they are lying; and they admit that he has an instinct 388 Public Service for the truth. One foundation for their respect for h i m is that vdth all his kindness he is not sentimental; and he is not "easy." "You can't fool the Jedge," the boys say, and the pohee teU, as an illustration, thu story of a "tough kid" on whom all the Judge's appeals seomed to fail. He "lied straight," and since the Judge wiU not help (try) a boy who will not tell the truth, he told the officer to take the boy away. On the way back to jail the boy changed his mind. He asked to be taken again before the Judge. "You 're right, Jedge," he said, "and you're game, too. I Ued to you; I Hed like a horse thief; and I could n't fool you a little bit. You 've beat me, Jedge, and I 'U teUyou th' truth." .\nd he did. The Judge in chambers reasons with the boy that while it is wrong to "snitch" on other feUows, it is aU right to "snitch" on yourself. The boys imderstand this. It is made clear to them that there is no punishment, only "help for a feUer if he needs it," and among the most in- teresting experiences that the Judge has to teU are the discussions he has with boys as to whether they "need to go to Golden." And that 's the spirit in which the Judge in chambers persuades boys to "snitch up" on themselves and look upon the reformatory as a help. As they begin to teU him things bit by bit, he expresses no horror, only imder- standing; "he sympathizes with a feller." If a kid describes how he saw an easy chance to steal and not get caught, the Judge exclaims: "Gee, that was a chance! That's certain. But 'tain't square. Hank." "^Mistake" after "mistake" is confessed, "weakness" after "weakness"; no crimes, you understand, for the kid and the Judge, they see things through the kid's eyes, with all the mitigating circiunstances. And so they come to discuss the question whether the kid can "cut it out." The Judge is sure the Ben B. Lindsey 389 boy can, surer than the boy, but then, it is up to the boy because the boy has to do the hard work of resisting. The Judge can "only help; th' feller has to do the business himself." "Interest is everything in a boy's Ufe," the Judge says, sagely. "If you want his loyalty, excite his interest." Well, the game of correction is interesting, especially when you are the center of the game. It is one of the most in- teresting games "a feller" ever played, and the Judge has a fascinating way of playing it. Having done something wrong, you try to do something that is right, positively right. This is the Judge's great doctrine. He calls it "overcoming evil with good." There is nothing "sissy- boy" about it. You have done an evil thing; you are not therefore bad, only so much weakened. So you go and do a good thing. This not only balances the evil, it "strengthens a feller." Now, then, a good thing "a feller" can usually do right away is to go out and bring in some other kids that are "swipin' things." You must not tell the Judge who the other "fellers " are. That would be " snitching." But it is all right to get the other "fellers" to come in and "snitch up" on themselves just as you have "snitched up" on yoiu-self. That gets them into the game; helps them and, since the more "fellers" there are in on it the easier it is for you, it helps you. The arena for the great game of correction is the Court of Probation. Held every other Saturday forenoon, it is a picturesque and a very pleasant spectacle. All the "bad" boys in town who have been caught committing mistakes, or who have "snitched up" on themselves, assemble there to report. It is not new. Like the Juvenile Court itself, the "method" of putting children on probation did not originate with Judge Lindsey. Yet he discovered it him- 390 Public Service self. As I quote him as saying above, he did not know about such things. When he went first to the home of the " cave-dweller " to investigate, he was performing one func- tion of a probation officer; and when he went there again and again he was holding a court of probation. So with the three pigeon burglars and their gang, he went to see them, but there was no method as yet. It was only as the cases grew that the Judge had to ask the boys to come and see him, and then finally to appoint a time and place where most of the boys could meet aU together with him; and that was the origin of Judge Lindsey's Court of Probation, the institution. But there is more than that to the story of it. The Judge feels that he suffered as "a httle shaver" from lack of approbation. He was born in Tennessee (not far, by the way, from where Joe Folk was born), and his family, weU-to-do Southern people, were brought to trouble and to Denver by the war. His father died, and Ben had to work hard as a boy. For a long time he had three jobs: he carried newspapers in the early morning; worked aU day in a lawyer's oflBce; and, after hours, served as janitor. Always slight of biuld, he was often worn out; and nobody appreciated it. He was only doing his duty, and it nearly killed him — literally. He sank under his load to the very verge of despair; and he learned the value of a kind word of sympathy and good cheer. ]Many of the bid boys who came to his court were lonely Httle fellows. They had no home and no friends, and he found in their hearts a longing which he knew all about. He gave them the sympathetic hearing and the kind word he had wanted, and "they drank," he says, "they drank in my friendship as if they were famished." Right there we have one secret of his "hypnotic" influ- ence over children. The Judge is proud now of the fact Ben B. Lindsey '391 that he has made himself a friend of every boy in town, or, at least, of every "feller that needs a friend," and he will tell you the philosophy and the use of his method, if you care to Usten. He will tell you how he learned from the gangs that the members thereof did bad things largely because some big fellow, who was bad, or some leader of their own, suggested to thein evil and praised them for its accomplishment. He will reason it all out for you, now, if you wish, showing how by his method he has put himself in the place of the big fellow; made himself the fountain of praise, the source of approbation, "the feller" for whose good words kids do good things now. In short, Ben Lindsey is the actual leader of most of the gangs of Denver, and the loyalty which the boys give to him he is giving back to the State. All this, however, is but the unforeseen result of this kind man's native sweetness and strength. The only definitely thought out method is that of having the boys bring reports from the schools. "If you want a boy's loyalty, excite his interest." It was easy enough for the Judge to excite the boy's interest; the problem was to keep it. In the early history of the court, before the new laws, he had no probation officers to follow up his cases, and since there was too much for him to do, he bethought him of the school teachers. The Judge has always been clear on the point that his Juvenile Court is merely supplementary, that the home and the school are the places where juvenile character should be molded, and that he had to do only with' those children who, for some reason, were not successfully treated in the regular way. Thus he was helping the teach- ers, and since he needed help, he went to the teachers for it, and he got it. The school-teachers of Denver have been his mainstay. AU that the Judge required of the teachers 392 Public Service was a report as to how the boys in his Court of Probation were doing in deportment and studies. "What I was after," the Judge explained, "was some- thing for which I could praise the boy in open court. Be- Ueving in approbation as an incentive, I had to have their reports for the boy to show me, in order that I might have a basis for encouraging comment, or, if the reports were not up to the mark, for sympathy. It did not matter to me very much what the reports were about. Some of the teachers could n't see at first why they should report on the scholarship of a boy who was good at school and bad — a thief, perhaps, — out of school. But you can see that these fortnightly reports were an excuse for keeping up my friendly relationship with the boy, holding his loyalty, and maintaining our common interest in the game of correction he and I were playing together. Since we had a truancy law, the teachers were in touch and thus could keep me in touch with every boy imder school age in the city, and their reports were my excuse for praise or appeal." Judge Lindsey's Court of Probation is thus a Court of Approbation. It serves other pm-poses; indeed, it is everything to the boys of Denver. It is the State, the Law, and Justice; it is Home, School, Club, and Society; it is Friendship, Success, and the scene of trimnphs; it is the place also where Failure goes for Help and for Hope renewed. It is all that Judge Lindsey is; all that he means to the minds of the boys. For the Judge's per- sonaUty makes it, his and the boys', and they make it up out of their own needs. The boys assemble early, two or three hundred of them, of all ages and aU sorts, — "small kids" and big "fellers"; well-dressed "lads" and ragged "httle shavers"; burglars who have entered a store and bm-glars who have "robbed back" pigeons; thieves who have stolen bicycles and Ben B. Lindsey 393 thieves who have "swiped" papers; "toughs" who have "sassed" a cop or stoned a conductor; and boys who have talked bad language to httle girls or who "hate their father," or who have been backward at school and played hooky because the "teacher does n't Hke them." It is not generally known, and the Judge rarely tells, just what a boy has done; the deed does not matter, you know, only the boy, and all boys look pretty much aUke to the Judge and to the boys. So they all come together there, except that boys who work, and newsboys, when there 's an extra out, are excused to come at another time. But nine o'clock Saturday morning finds most of the "fel- lers" in their seats, looking as clean as possible, and happy. The Judge comes in, and passing the bench, which looms up empty and useless behind him, he takes his place, lean- ing against the clerk's table or sitting on a camp chair. "Boys," he begins, "last time I told you about Kid Daw- son and some other boys who used to be with us here and who 'made good.' To-day I 've got a letter from the Kid. He 's in Oregon and he 's doing well. I '11 read you what he says about himself and his new job." And he reads the letter, which is full of details roughly set in a general f eehng of encouragement and self-confidence. "Fine, is n't it?" the Judge says. "Kid Dawson had a mighty hard time with himself for awhile, but you can see he 's got his hand on his throttle now. Well, let 's see. The last time, I talked about snitching; did n't I? To-day I 'm going to talk about 'ditching.' " And he is off on the address, with which he opens court. His topics are always interesting to boys, for he handles his subjects boy fashion. "Snitching," the favorite theme, deals with the difference between "snitching," which is telhng on another boy to hurt him, and "snitching on the square," which is in- tended to help the other fellow. 394 Public Service "Ditching" is another popular subject. "To ditch" a tiling is to throw it awaj-; and the Judge proceeds to tell about others who, "like Kid Dawson out there in Oregon," have "ditched" their bad habits and "got strong." All the forenoon this goes on, the boys coming up in groups to be treated each one by himself. He is known to the Coifft, well known, and the Judge, his personal friend, and the officers of the court and the spectators, his fellow clubmen, aU rejoice with him if he is "making good," and if he is doing badlj^ they are sorry. And in that case he may be in\4ted to a private talk with the Judge, a talk, mind you, which has no terrors for the boy, only comfort. They often seek such uiter\-iews volimtarily. They sneak into the Judge's chambers or call at his house to "snitch up" that they are not doing well. And the boj's who sit there and see this every two weeks, or hear aU about it, they not only have forgotten aU their old feai- of the law ; they go to the Court now as to a friend, they and their friends. For Judge Lindsej' had not been doing "kid jus- tice to kids" very long before all BoJ'^^lle knew it. The rumor spread like wildfire. The boys "snitched" on the Judge, "snitched on the square"; they told one another that the Coimty Judge was all right. This, then, is Judge Lindsey's "method." It is an old method. He did not discover it. A great reUgion was foimded on "faith, hope, and love" once. That was long ago. The only new and interesting thing about Lindsey's experiment is that he finds that this ancient, neglected method "works'' — works too, as I said, at the outset, with grown-ups as well as with children, with cops as well as with kids. It has won his fight for him. Yes, he fights. The kids' Judge has had to fight, and, as we shall see, he has fought. The fight is not finished yet. The "bad" men of Colorado have not been taught by their Ben B. Lindsey 395 State and their courts to see things as the bad boys of Colorado are learning to see them. They also go to the courts for injunctions, and some of them get their writs. Ben B. Lindsey is a man with a man's fight for men on his hands, and he is the kind of man that finishes his fights. He will win with good men or — - he will wait and win it with bad boys. For his bad boys will grow up some day, and they know what the State can be to a "feller" and that "there can be no justice without the love of man for man." PUBLIC SERVICE SUPPLEMENTARY READINGS American Ideals Theodore Roosevelt American Citizenship David J. Bbewer The Teaching of Citizenship Edwin H. Hughes The Citizen Xathanlel Sotjthgate Shaler The Spirit of America Henry van Dyke The Constitntional Government of the United States WOODROW Wll^ON The 'Z'oung Man and the Nation Albert J. Beveridge The Federal Civil Service as a Career El Bie K. Foltz Essays on G-overnment A. LAWRENCE Lowell Civil Government in the United States John Fiske A Century of American Di- plomacy John TV. Foster Of Politics Richard Rogers Bowker The Promise of American Iiife Herbert Cbolt The American Commonwealth J-iiiES Bbtce An American Citizen (Life of William Henry Baldwin, Jr.) John Graham Brooks Politics and Administration Frank J. Goodnow Historical and Political Essays Hen-rt Cabot Lodge The American Idea as Ez- ponnded by American States- men Edited by Joseph B. Gildeb Grant's Memoirs Naval Administration an d Warfare Capt. a. T. Mahan, U.S.X. The Battle with the Slam Jacob Riis Nevrer Ideals of Peace Jane Addams The Citizen Charles F. Dole The Education of the American Citizen Arthur Twining Hadley