Again, Mr. Adams gloomily remarks that “producers have become the

subjects of the possessors of hoarded wealth,” and that among

capitalists the money-lenders form an aristocracy, while debtors are

helpless and the servants of the creditors. All this is really quite

unworthy of Mr. Adams, or of anyone above the intellectual level of

Mr. Bryan, Mr. Henry George, or Mr. Bellamy. Any man who has had the

slightest practical knowledge of legislation, whether as Congressman

or as State legislator, knows that nowadays laws are passed much

more often with a view to benefiting the debtors than the creditors;

always excepting that very large portion of the creditor class which

includes the wage-earners. “Producers”--whoever they may be--are not

the subjects of “hoarded wealth,” nor of anyone nor anything else.

Capital is not absolute; and it is idle to compare the position of the

capitalist nowadays with his position when his workmen were slaves

and the law-makers were his creatures. The money-lender, by whom I

suppose Mr. Adams means the banker, is not an aristocrat as compared

to other capitalists,--at any rate in the United States. The merchant,

the manufacturer, the railroad man, stand just as the banker does;

and bankers vary among themselves just as any other business men do.

They do not form a “class” at all; anyone who wishes to can go into

the business; men fail and succeed in it just as in other businesses.

As for the debtors being powerless, if Mr. Adams knows any persons

who have lent money in Kansas or similar States they will speedily

enlighten him on this subject, and will give him an exact idea of

the extent to which the debtor is the servant of the creditor. In

those States the creditor--and especially the Eastern money-lender

or “gold-bug”--is the man who has lost all his money. Mr. Adams

can readily find this out by the simple endeavor to persuade some

“money-lender,” or other “Wall Street shark” to go into the business

of lending money on Far-Western farm property. The money-lender in the

most civilized portions of the United States always loses if the debtor

is loser, or if the debtor is dishonest. Of course there are “sharpers”

among bankers, as there are among producers. Moreover, the private,

as distinguished from the corporate, debtor borrows for comparatively

short periods, so that he is practically not at all affected by an

appreciating currency; the rise is much too small to count in the

case of the individual, though it may count in the long-term bonds

of a nation or corporation. The wage of the working-man rises, while

interest, which is the wage of the capitalist, sinks.

Mr. Adams’s study of the rise of the usurer in India and the ruin of

the martial races is very interesting; but it has not the slightest

bearing upon anything which is now happening in Western civilization.

The debtor, in America at least, is amply able to take care of his

own interests. Our experience shows conclusively that the creditors

only prosper when the debtors prosper, and the danger lies less in

the accumulation of debts, than in their repudiation. Among us the

communities which repudiate their debts, which inveigh loudest

against their creditors, and which offer the poorest field for the

operations of the honest banker (whom they likewise always call

“money-lender,”) are precisely those which are least prosperous and

least self-respecting. There are, of course, individuals here and

there who are unable to cope with the money-lender, and even sections

of the country where this is true; but this only means that a weak or

thriftless man can be robbed by a sharp money-lender just as he can be

robbed by the sharp producer from whom he buys or to whom he sells.

There is, in certain points, a very evident incompatibility of interest

between the farmer who wishes to sell his product at a high rate, and

the working-man who wishes to buy that product at a low rate; but the

success of the capitalist, and especially of the banker, is conditioned

upon the prosperity of both working-man and farmer.

When Mr. Adams speaks of the change in the relations of women and men

he touches on the vital weakness of our present civilization. If we

are, in truth, tending toward a point where the race will cease to be

able to perpetuate itself, our civilization is of course a failure.

No quality in a race atones for the failure to produce an abundance

of healthy children. The problem upon which Mr. Adams here touches

is the most serious of all problems, for it lies at the root of, and

indeed itself is, national life. But it is hard to accept seriously

Mr. Adams’s plea that “martial” men loved their wives more than

“economic” men do, and showed their love by buying them. Of course the

only reason why a woman was bought in early times was because she was

looked upon like any other chattel; she was “loved” more than she is

now only as a negro was “loved” more by the negro-trader in 1860 than

at present. The worship of women during the Middle Ages was, in its

practical effects, worship of a very queer kind. The “economic man” of

the present day is beyond comparison gentler and more tender and more

loving to women than the “emotional man” of the Middle Ages.

Mr. Adams closes with some really fine paragraphs, of which the general

purport is, that the advent of the capitalist and the economic man, and

especially the advent of the usurer, mark a condition of consolidation

which means the beginning of utter decay, so that our society, as a

result of this accelerated movement away from emotionalism and towards

capitalism, is now in a condition like that of the society of the later

Roman Empire. He forgets, however, that there are plenty of modern

states which have entirely escaped the general accelerated movement of

our time. Spain on the one hand, and Russia on the other, though alike

in nothing else, are alike in being entirely outside the current of

modern capitalistic development. Spain never suffered from capitalists.

She exterminated the economic man in the interest of the emotional

and martial man. As a result she has sunk to a condition just above

that of Morocco--another state, by the way, which still clings to the

martial and emotional type, and is entirely free from the vices of

capitalistic development, and from the presence of the usurer, save as

the usurer existed in the days of Isaac of York. Soldiers and artists

have sunk lower in Spain than elsewhere, although they have had no

competition from the economic man. Russia is in an entirely different

position. Russia is eminently emotional, and her capitalists are of the

most archaic type; but it is difficult to say exactly what Russia has

done for art, or in what respect her soldiers are superior to other

soldiers; and certainly the life of the lower classes in Russia is on

the average far less happy than the life of the workingman and farmer

in any English-speaking country. Evidently, as Spain and Russia show,

national decay, or non-development may have little to do with economic

progress.

Mr. Adams has shown well that the progress of civilization and

centralization has depended largely upon the growing mastery of the

attack over the defence; but when he says that the martial type

necessarily decays as civilization progresses, he goes beyond what

he can prove. The economic man in England, Holland, and the United

States has for several centuries proved a much better fighter than

the martial emotionalist of the Spanish countries. It is Spain which

is now decaying; not the nations with capitalists. The causes which

make Russia formidable are connected with the extent of her territory

and her population, for she has certainly failed so far to produce

fighting men at all superior to the fighting men of the economic

civilizations. In a pent-up territory she would rise less rapidly, and

fall more rapidly, than they would; and her freedom from centralization

and capitalization would not help her. Spain, which is wholly untouched

by modern economic growth, suffers far more than any English-speaking

country from maladies like those of Rome in its decadence; and Rome

did not decay from the same causes which affect modern America or

Europe; while Russia owes her immunity from a few of the evils that

affect the rest of us, to causes unconnected with her backwardness

in civilization, and moreover has worse evils of her own to contend

with. The English-speaking man has so far out-built, out-fought, and

out-administered the Russian; and he is as far as the poles away from

the Roman of the later Empire.

Moreover, instead of the mercenary or paid police growing in relative

strength, as Mr. Adams says, it has everywhere shrunk during the

last fifty years, when compared with the mass of armed farmers and

wage-earners who make up a modern army. The capitalist can no longer,

as in ages past, count upon the soldiers as being of his party; he

can only count upon them when they are convinced that in fighting

his battle they are fighting their own; although under modern

industrial conditions this is generally the case. Again, Mr. Adams is

in error in his facts, when he thinks that producers have prospered

in the silver-using, as compared with the gold-using, countries.

The wage-earner and small farmer of the United States, or even of

Europe, stand waist high above their brothers in Mexico and the other

communities that use only silver. The prosperity of the wage-earning

class is more important to the state than the prosperity of any other

class in the community, for it numbers within its ranks two-thirds of

the people of the community. The fact that modern society rests upon

the wage-earner, whereas ancient society rested upon the slave, is of

such transcendent importance as to forbid any exact comparison between

the two, save by way of contrast.

While there is in modern times a decrease in emotional religion, there

is an immense increase in practical morality. There is a decrease of

the martial type found among savages and the people of the Middle Ages,

except as it still survives in the slums of great cities; but there

remains a martial type infinitely more efficient than any that preceded

it. There are great branches of industry which call forth in those that

follow them more hardihood, manliness, and courage than any industry of

ancient times. The immense masses of men connected with the railroads

are continually called upon to exercise qualities of mind and body such

as in antiquity no trade and no handicraft demanded. There are, it is

true, influences at work to shake the vitality, courage, and manliness

of the race; but there are other influences which tell in exactly the

opposite direction; and, whatever may come in the future, hitherto

the last set of influences have been strongest. As yet, while men are

more gentle and more honest than before, it cannot be said that they

are less brave; and they are certainly more efficient as fighters.

If our population decreases; if we lose the virile, manly qualities,

and sink into a nation of mere hucksters, putting gain above national

honor, and subordinating everything to mere ease of life; then we shall

indeed reach a condition worse than that of the ancient civilizations

in the years of their decay. But at present no comparison could be less

apt than that of Byzantium, or Rome in its later years, with a great

modern state where the thronging millions who make up the bulk of the

population are wage-earners, who themselves decide their own destinies;

a state which is able in time of need to put into the field armies,

composed exclusively of its own citizens, more numerous than any which

the world has ever before seen, and with a record of fighting in the

immediate past with which there is nothing in the annals of antiquity

to compare.

[Illustration]

FOOTNOTES:

[23] The _Forum_, January, 1897.

[Illustration]

XVI

REFORM THROUGH SOCIAL WORK--SOME FORCES THAT TELL FOR DECENCY IN NEW

YORK CITY[24]

Any one who has a serious appreciation of the immensely complex

problems of our present-day life, and of those kinds of benevolent

effort which for lack of a better term we group under the name of

philanthropy, must realize the infinite diversity there is in the field

of social work. Each man can, of course, do best if he takes up that

branch of work to which his tastes and his interests lead him, and the

field is of such large size that there is more than ample room for

every variety of workman. Of course there are certain attributes which

must be possessed in common by all who want to do well. The worker must

possess not only resolution, firmness of purpose, broad charity, and

great-hearted sympathy, but he must also possess common-sense sanity,

and a wholesome aversion alike to the merely sentimental and the

merely spectacular. The soup-kitchen style of philanthropy is worse

than useless, for in philanthropy as everywhere else in life almost

as much harm is done by soft-headedness as by hard-heartedness. The

highest type of philanthropy is that which springs from the feeling

of brotherhood, and which, therefore, rests on the self-respecting,

healthy basis of mutual obligation and common effort. The best way to

raise any one is to join with him in an effort whereby both you and

he are raised by each helping the other. This is what has been done

in those factories in Cleveland, Dayton, Pittsburg, and elsewhere, in

which the betterment of working life has been aimed at, and partially

achieved, through measures beneficial alike to employer and employed.

Any man who takes an active part in the varied, hurried, and

interesting life of New York must be struck, not only by the number

of the forces which tell for evil, but by the number of the forces

which tell for good. Of course most of these are not, in the narrow

sense of the term, philanthropic forces at all; but many of them are,

and among these there is the widest variety. In this paper it is only

possible to touch upon a very few of the ways in which philanthropic

work of worth is being done in New York City. It is necessary to speak

of individuals, because otherwise it would be impossible to emphasize

the widely different kinds of work which can thus be done. These

individuals are mentioned simply as typifying certain phases, certain

methods. There are countless others who could be mentioned; it merely

happens that these particular men have occupied to advantage certain

widely different parts of the great field of usefulness.

Much can be done in downright charitable work, and there are great

fragments of our social life in which the work must be in part or in

whole charitable. The charity workers do an amount of good which in

some cases is literally inestimable. Yet, on the whole, it becomes ever

increasingly evident that the largest opportunity for work along the

lines of social and civic betterment lie with the independent classes

of the community--the classes which have not yielded to the many kinds

of downward pressure always so strong in city life. Sometimes this work

may take the form of an organized effort to secure greater equality of

opportunity. Sometimes the best way to work is the oldest and simplest;

that is, by trying the effect of character upon character.

Political and social conditions are often closely interwoven, and

always tend to act and react upon one another. It is impossible to

have a high standard of political life in a community sunk in sodden

misery and ignorance; and where there is industrial well-being there

is at least a chance of its going hand in hand with the moral and

intellectual uplifting which will secure cleanliness and efficiency in

the public service. Politics have been entered by a good many different

doors, but in New York City Mr. F. Norton Goddard is probably the

only man who ever entered on the career of a district leader by the

door of philanthropy. Mr. Goddard, feeling he ought to do something

serious in life, chose a quarter on the East Side for his experiment,

and he entered upon it without the slightest thought of going into

politics, simply taking a room in a tenement house with the idea of

testing his own capacities and to find out if he was fit to do what

has grown to be known as “settlement work.” He speedily became very

much interested in the men with whom he was thrown in contact, and

also became convinced that he personally could do most by acting, not

in connection with others, but for his own hand. After a few weeks he

joined a small club which met at first in a single room. From this

one room sprang in the course of a couple of years the Civic Club at

243 East Thirty-fourth Street, than which there exists in all New

York no healthier centre of energetic social and political effort.

Very speedily Mr. Goddard found himself brought into hostile and

embarrassing contact with that huge and highly organized system of

corruption, tempered with what may be called malevolent charity, which

we know as Tammany. Every foe of decency, from the policy player to

the protected proprietor of a law-breaking saloon, had some connection

with Tammany, and every move in any direction resulted in contact

of some sort with a man or institution under Tammany’s control. Mr.

Goddard soon realized that organization must be met by organization;

and, being a thoroughly practical man, he started in to organize the

decent forces in such fashion as would enable him to check organized

indecency. He made up his mind that the Republican party organization

offered the best chance for the achievement of his object. As it then

was, however, the Republican organization of the district in question

served but little purpose save to deliver delegates in conventions,

and was under the control of men who, although some degrees above the

Tammany leaders, had no conception of running things on the plane which

Goddard deemed necessary. There were three courses open to him: He

could acquiesce helplessly; he could start an outside organization,

in which case the chances were a thousand to one that it would amount

to nothing; or he could make a determined effort to control for good

purposes the existing Republican organization. He chose the latter

alternative, and began a serious campaign to secure his object. There

was at the time a fight in the Republican organization between two

factions, both of which were headed by professional politicians. Both

factions at the outset looked upon Goddard’s methods with amused

contempt, expecting that he would go the gait which they had seen

so many other young men go, where they lacked either persistency or

hard common-sense. But Goddard was a practical man. He spent his days

and evenings in perfecting his own organization, using the Civic

Club as a centre. He already had immense influence in the district,

thanks to what he had done in the Civic Club, and at this, his first

effort, he was able to make an organization which, while it could

not have availed against the extraordinary drill and discipline of

Tammany, was able overwhelmingly to beat the far feebler machine of

the regular Republican politicians. At the primary he got more votes

than both his antagonists put together. No man outside of politics can

realize the paralyzed astonishment with which the result was viewed

by the politicians in every other Assembly district. Here at last

was a reformer whose aspirations took exceedingly efficient shape as

deeds; who knew what could and what could not be done; who was never

content with less than the possible best, but who never threw away that

possible best because it was not the ideal best; who did not try to

reform the universe, but merely his own district; and who understood

thoroughly that though speeches and essays are good, downright hard

work of the common-sense type is infinitely better.

It is more difficult to preserve the fruits of a victory than to

win the victory. Mr. Goddard did both. A year later, when the

old-school professional politicians attempted to oust him from his

party leadership in the district association, he beat them more

overwhelmingly than before; and when the Republican National Convention

came around he went still further afield, beat out his opponents in

the Congressional district, and sent two delegates to Philadelphia.

Nor was his success confined to the primary. In both the years of his

leadership he has enormously increased the Republican vote in his

district, doing better relatively than any other district leader in

the city. He does this by adopting the social methods of Tammany, only

using them along clean lines. The Tammany leader keeps his hold by

incessant watchfulness over every element, and almost every voter, in

his district. Neither his objects nor his methods are good; but he does

take a great deal of pains, and he is obliged to do much charitable

work; although it is not benevolence of a healthy kind. Mr. Goddard

was already, through the Civic Club, doing just this kind of work, on

a thoroughly healthy basis. Going into politics had immensely helped

with the club, for it had given a great common interest to all of the

men. Of course Goddard could have done nothing if he had not approached

his work in a genuine American spirit of entire respect for himself and

for those with whom and for whom he labored. Any condescension, any

patronizing spirit would have spoiled everything. But the spirit which

exacts respect and yields it, which is anxious always to help in a mood

of simple brotherhood, and which is glad to accept help in return--this

is the spirit which enables men of every degree of wealth and of widely

varying social conditions to work together in heartiest good-will, and

to the immense benefit of all. It is thus that Mr. Goddard has worked.

His house is in the district and he is in close touch with every one.

If a man is sick with pneumonia, some member of the Civic Club promptly

comes around to consult Goddard as to what hospital he shall be taken

to. If another man is down on his luck, it is Goddard who helps him

along through the hard times. If a boy has been wild and got into

trouble and gone to the penitentiary, it is Goddard who is appealed to

to see whether anything can be done for him. The demands upon his time

and patience are innumerable. The reward, it is to be supposed, must

come from the consciousness of doing well work which is emphatically

well worth doing. A very shrewd politician said the other day that if

there were twenty such men as Goddard in twenty such districts as his

New York City would be saved from Tammany, and that in the process

the Republican machine would be made heartily responsive to and

representative of the best sentiment of the Republicans of the several

districts.

The University Settlements do an enormous amount of work. As has been

well said, they demand on the part of those who work in them infinitely

more than the sacrifice of almsgiving, for they demand a helping hand

in that progress which for the comfort of all must be given to all;

they help people to help themselves, not only in work and self-support,

but in right thinking and right living. It would be hard to mention any

form of civic effort for righteousness which has not received efficient

aid from Mr. James B. Reynolds and his fellow-workers in the University

Settlements. They have stood for the forces of good in politics,

in social life, in warring against crime, in increasing the sum of

material pleasures. They work hand in hand, shoulder to shoulder, with

those whom they seek to benefit, and they themselves share in the

benefit. They make their house the centre for all robust agencies for

social betterment. They have consistently endeavored to work with,

rather than merely for, the community; to co-operate in honorable

friendship with all who are struggling upward. Only those who know the

appalling conditions of life in the swarming tenements that surround

the University Settlement can appreciate what it has done. It has

almost inevitably gone into politics now and then, and whenever it has

done so has exercised a thoroughly healthy influence. It has offered

to the people of the neighborhood educational and social opportunities

ranging from a dancing academy and musical classes, to literary clubs,

a library, and a children’s bank--the clubs being administered on the

principle of self-management and self-government. It has diligently

undertaken to co-operate with all local organizations such as

trades-unions, benefit societies, social clubs, and the like, provided

only that their purposes were decent. The Settlement has always desired

to co-operate with independent forces rather than merely to lead or

direct the dependent forces of society. Its work in co-operation with

trades-unions has been of special value both in helping them where they

have done good work, and in endeavoring to check any tendency to evil

in any particular union. It has, for instance, consistently labored

to secure the settlement of strikes by consultation or arbitration,

before the bitterness has become so great as to prevent any chance

of a settlement. All this is aside from its work of sociological

investigation and its active co-operation with those public officials

who, like the late Colonel Waring, desired such aid.

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