The tendency to patronize is certain to be eradicated as soon as any

man goes into politics in a practical and not in a dilettante fashion.

He speedily finds that the quality of successful management, the power

to handle men and secure results, may exist in seemingly unlikely

persons. If he intends to carry a caucus or primary, or elect a given

candidate, or secure a certain piece of legislation or administration,

he will have to find out and work with innumerable allies, and make

use of innumerable subordinates. Given that he and they have a common

object, the one test that he must apply to them is as to their ability

to help in achieving that object. The result is that in a very short

time the men whose purposes are the same forget about all differences,

save in capacity to carry out the purpose. The banker who is interested

in seeing a certain nomination made or a certain election carried

forgets everything but his community of interest with the retail

butcher who is a leader along his section of the avenue, or the starter

who can control a considerable number of the motormen; and in return

the butcher and the starter accept the banker quite naturally as an

ally whom they may follow or lead, as circumstances dictate. In other

words, all three grow to feel in common on certain important subjects,

and this fellow-feeling has results as far-reaching as they are healthy.

Good thus follows from mere ordinary political affiliation. A man

who has taken an active part in the political life of a great city

possesses an incalculable advantage over his fellow-citizens who have

not so taken part, because normally he has more understanding than they

can possibly have of the attitude of mind, the passions, prejudices,

hopes, and animosities of his fellow-citizens, with whom he would not

ordinarily be brought into business or social contact. Of course there

are plenty of exceptions to this rule. A man who is drawn into politics

from absolutely selfish reasons, and especially a rich man who merely

desires to buy political promotion, may know absolutely nothing that is

of value as to any but the basest side of the human nature with which

his sphere of contact has been enlarged; and, on the other hand, a

wise employer of labor, or a philanthropist in whom zeal and judgment

balance each other, may know far more than most politicians. But the

fact remains that the effect of political life, and of the associations

that it brings, is of very great benefit in producing a better

understanding and a keener fellow-feeling among men who otherwise

would know one another not at all, or else as members of alien bodies

or classes.

This being the case, how much more is it true if the same habit of

association for a common purpose can be applied where the purpose

is really of the highest! Much is accomplished in this way by the

university settlements and similar associations. Wherever these

associations are entered into in a healthy and sane spirit, the good

they do is incalculable, from the simple fact that they bring together

in pursuit of a worthy common object men of excellent character, who

would never otherwise meet. It is of just as much importance to the

one as to the other that the man from Hester Street or the Bowery or

Avenue B, and the man from the Riverside Drive or Fifth Avenue, should

have some meeting-ground where they can grow to understand one another

as an incident of working for a common end. Of course if, on the one

hand, the work is entered into in a patronizing spirit, no good will

result; and, on the other hand, if the zealous enthusiast loses his

sanity, only harm will follow. There is much dreadful misery in a great

city, and a high-spirited, generous young man, when first brought into

contact with it, has his sympathies so excited that he is very apt

to become a socialist, or turn to the advocacy of any wild scheme,

courting a plunge from bad to worse, exactly as do too many of the

leaders of the discontent around him. His sanity and cool-headedness

will be thoroughly tried, and if he loses them his power for good will

vanish.

But this is merely to state one form of a general truth. If a man

permits largeness of heart to degenerate into softness of head, he

inevitably becomes a nuisance in any relation of life. If sympathy

becomes distorted and morbid, it hampers instead of helping the effort

toward social betterment. Yet without sympathy, without fellow-feeling,

no permanent good can be accomplished. In any healthy community there

must be a solidarity of sentiment and a knowledge of solidarity of

interest among the different members. Where this solidarity ceases

to exist, where there is no fellow-feeling, the community is ripe

for disaster. Of course the fellow-feeling may be of value much in

proportion as it is unconscious. A sentiment that is easy and natural

is far better than one which has to be artificially stimulated. But

the artificial stimulus is better than none, and with fellow-feeling,

as with all other emotions, what is started artificially may become

quite natural in its continuance. With most men courage is largely

an acquired habit, and on the first occasions when it is called for

it necessitates the exercise of will-power and self-control; but by

exercise it gradually becomes almost automatic.

So it is with fellow-feeling. A man who conscientiously endeavors to

throw in his lot with those about him, to make his interests theirs,

to put himself in a position where he and they have a common object,

will at first feel a little self-conscious, will realize too plainly

his own aims. But with exercise this will pass off. He will speedily

find that the fellow-feeling which at first he had to stimulate was

really existent, though latent, and is capable of a very healthy

growth. It can, of course, become normal only when the man himself

becomes genuinely interested in the object which he and his fellows

are striving to attain. It is therefore obviously desirable that this

object should possess a real and vital interest for every one. Such is

the case with a proper political association.

Much has been done, not merely by the ordinary political associations,

but by the city clubs, civic federations, and the like, and very much

more can be done. Of course there is danger of any such association

being perverted either by knavery or folly. When a partisan political

organization becomes merely an association for purposes of plunder and

patronage, it may be a menace instead of a help to a community; and

when a non-partisan political organization falls under the control of

the fantastic extremists always attracted to such movements, in its

turn it becomes either useless or noxious. But if these organizations,

partisan or non-partisan, are conducted along the lines of sanity and

honesty, they produce a good more far-reaching than their promoters

suppose, and achieve results of greater importance than those

immediately aimed at.

It is an excellent thing to win a triumph for good government at a

given election; but it is a far better thing gradually to build up that

spirit of fellow-feeling among American citizens, which, in the long

run, is absolutely necessary if we are to see the principles of virile

honesty and robust common-sense triumph in our civic life.

CIVIC HELPFULNESS

PUBLISHED IN THE “CENTURY,” OCTOBER, 1900

In Mr. Lecky’s profoundly suggestive book, “The Map of Life,” referred

to by me in a former article, he emphasizes the change that has been

gradually coming over the religious attitude of the world because of

the growing importance laid upon conduct as compared with dogma. In

this country we are long past the stage of regarding it as any part of

the State’s duty to enforce a particular religious dogma; and more and

more the professors of the different creeds themselves are beginning

tacitly to acknowledge that the prime worth of a creed is to be gauged

by the standard of conduct it exacts among its followers toward their

fellows. The creed which each man in his heart believes to be essential

to his own salvation is for him alone to determine; but we have a right

to pass judgment upon his actions toward those about him.

Tried by this standard, the religious teachers of the community

stand most honorably high. It is probable that no other class of our

citizens do anything like the amount of disinterested labor for

their fellow-men. To those who are associated with them at close

quarters this statement will seem so obviously a truism as to rank

among the platitudes. But there is a far from inconsiderable body of

public opinion which, to judge by the speeches, writings, and jests

in which it delights, has no conception of this state of things. If

such people would but take the trouble to follow out the actual life

of a hard-worked clergyman or priest, I think they would become a

little ashamed of the tone of flippancy they are so prone to adopt when

speaking about them.

In the country districts the minister of the gospel is normally the

associate and leader of his congregation and in close personal touch

with them. He shares in and partially directs their intellectual

and moral life, and is responsive to their spiritual needs. If they

are prosperous, he is prosperous. If the community be poor and

hard-working, he shares the poverty and works as hard as any one.

As fine a figure as I can call to mind is that of one such country

clergyman in a poor farming community not far from the capital of the

State of New York—a vigorous old man, who works on his farm six days

in the week, and on the seventh preaches what he himself has been

practicing. The farm work does not occupy all of the week-days, for

there is not a spiritual need of his parishioners that he neglects. He

visits them, looks after them if they are sick, baptizes the children,

comforts those in sorrow, and is ready with shrewd advice for those

who need aid; in short, shows himself from week’s end to week’s end

a thoroughly sincere, earnest, hard-working old Christian. This is

perhaps the healthiest type. It is in keeping with the surroundings,

for in the country districts the quality of self-help is very highly

developed, and there is little use for the great organized charities.

Neighbors know one another. The poorest and the richest are more or

less in touch, and charitable feelings find a natural and simple

expression in the homely methods of performing charitable duties. This

does not mean that there is not room for an immense amount of work in

country communities and in villages and small towns. Every now and

then, in traveling over the State, one comes upon a public library, a

Young Men’s Christian Association building, or some similar structure

which has been put up by a man born in the place, who has made his

money elsewhere, and feels he would like to have some memorial in his

old home. Such a gift is of far-reaching benefit. Almost better is what

is done in the way of circulating libraries and the like by the united

action of those men and women who appreciate clearly the intellectual

needs of the people who live far from the great centres of our rather

feverish modern civilization; for in country life it is necessary to

guard, not against mental fever, but against lack of mental stimulus

and interests.

In cities the conditions are very different, both as regards the needs

and as regards the way it is possible to meet these needs. There is

much less feeling of essential community of interest, and poverty of

the body is lamentably visible among great masses. There are districts

populated to the point of congestion, where hardly any one is above

the level of poverty, though this poverty does not by any means always

imply misery. Where it does mean misery it must be met by organization,

and, above all, by the disinterested, endless labor of those who,

by choice, and to do good, live in the midst of it, temporarily or

permanently. Very many men and women spend part of their lives or do

part of their life-work under such circumstances, and conspicuous among

them are clergymen and priests.

Only those who have seen something of such work at close quarters

realize how much of it goes on quietly and without the slightest

outside show, and how much it represents to many lives that else would

be passed in gray squalor. It is not necessary to give the names of

the living, or I could enumerate among my personal acquaintance fifty

clergymen and priests, men of every church, of every degree of wealth,

each of whom cheerfully and quietly, year in and year out, does his

share, and more than his share, of the unending work which he feels

is imposed upon him alike by Christianity and by that form of applied

Christianity which we call good citizenship. Far more than that number

of women, in and out of religious bodies, who do to the full as much

work, could be mentioned. Of course, for every one thus mentioned there

would be a hundred, or many hundreds, unmentioned. Perhaps there is no

harm in alluding to one man who is dead. Very early in my career as a

police commissioner of the City of New York I was brought in contact

with Father Casserly of the Paulist Fathers. After he had made up his

mind that I was really trying to get things decent in the department,

and to see that law and order prevailed, and that crime and vice were

warred against in practical fashion, he became very intimate with

me, helping me in every way, and unconsciously giving me an insight

into his own work and his own character. Continually, in one way and

another, I came across what Father Casserly was doing, always in the

way of showing the intense human sympathy and interest he was taking

in the lives about him. If one of the boys of a family was wild, it

was Father Casserly who planned methods of steadying him. If, on the

other hand, a steady boy met with some misfortune,—lost his place, or

something of the kind,—it was Father Casserly who went and stated

the facts to the employer. The Paulist Fathers had always been among

the most efficient foes of the abuses of the liquor traffic. They

never hesitated to interfere with saloons, dance-houses, and the like.

One secret of their influence with our Police Board was that, as they

continually went about among their people and knew them all, and as

they were entirely disinterested, they could be trusted to tell who

did right and who did wrong among the instruments of the law. One of

the perplexing matters in dealing with policemen is that, as they are

always in hostile contact with criminals and would-be criminals, who

are sure to lie about them, it is next to impossible to tell when

accusations against them are false and when they are true; for the

good man who does his duty is certain to have scoundrelly foes, and

the bad man who blackmails these same scoundrels usually has nothing

but the same evidence against him. But Father Casserly and the rest of

his order knew the policemen personally, and we found we could trust

them implicitly to tell exactly who was good and who was not. Whether

the man were Protestant, Catholic, or Jew, if he was a faithful public

servant they would so report him; and if he was unfaithful he would

be reported as such wholly without regard to his creed. We had this

experience with an honorably large number of priests and clergymen.

Once in the same batch of promotions from sergeant to captain there

was a Protestant to whom our attention had been drawn by the earnest

praise of Fathers Casserly and Doyle, and a Catholic who had first been

brought to our notice by the advocacy of Bishop Potter.

There were other ways in which clergymen helped our Police Board. We

wanted at one time to get plenty of strong, honest young men for the

police force, and did not want to draw them from among the ordinary

types of ward heeler. Two fertile recruiting-grounds proved to be, one

a Catholic church and the other a Methodist church. The rector of the

former, Dr. Wall, had a temperance lyceum for the young men of his

parish; the pastor of the latter had a congregation made out of a bit

of old native America suddenly overlapped by the growth of the city,

and his wheelwrights, ship-carpenters, baymen, and coasting-sailors

gave us the same good type of officer that we got from among the

mechanics, motormen, and blacksmiths who came from Dr. Wall’s lyceum.

Among our other close friends was another Methodist preacher, who had

once been a reporter, but who had felt stirred by an irresistible

impulse to leave his profession and devote his life to the East Side,

where he ministered to the wants of those who would not go to the

fashionable churches, and for whom no other church was especially

prepared. In connection with his work, one of the things that was

especially pleasing was the way in which he had gone in not only with

the rest of the Protestant clergy and the non-sectarian philanthropic

workers of the district, but with the Catholic clergy, joining hands in

the fight against the seething evils of the slum. One of his Catholic

allies, by the way, a certain Brother A——, was doing an immense

amount for the Italian children of his parish. He had a large parochial

school, originally attended by the children of Irish parents. Gradually

the Irish had moved uptown, and had been supplanted by the Italians. It

was his life-work to lift these little Italians over the first painful

steps on the road toward American citizenship.

Again, let me call to mind an institution, not in New York, but in

Albany, where the sisters of a religious organization devote their

entire lives to helping girls who either have slipped, and would go

down to be trampled under foot in the blackest mire if they were not

helped, or who, by force of their surroundings, would surely slip if

the hand were not held out to them in time. It is the kind of work

the doing of which is of infinite importance both from the standpoint

of the state and from the standpoint of the individual; yet it is a

work which, to be successful, must emphatically be a labor of love.

Most men and women, even among those who appreciate the need of the

work and who are not wholly insensible to the demands made upon them

by the spirit of brotherly love for mankind, lack either the time,

the opportunity, or the moral and mental qualities to succeed in such

work; and to very many the sheer distaste of it would prevent their

doing it well. There is nothing attractive in it save for those who are

entirely earnest and disinterested. There is no reputation, there is

not even any notoriety, to be gained from it. Surely people who realize

that such work ought to be done, and who realize also how exceedingly

distasteful it would be for them to do it, ought to feel a sense of the

most profound gratitude to those who with whole-hearted sincerity have

undertaken it, and should support them in every way. This particular

institution is under the management of a creed not my own, but few

things gave me greater pleasure than to sign a bill increasing its

power and usefulness. Compared with the vital necessity of reclaiming

these poor hunted creatures to paths of womanliness and wholesome

living, it is of infinitesimal importance along the lines of which

creed these paths lead.

Undoubtedly the best type of philanthropic work is that which helps

men and women who are willing and able to help themselves; for

fundamentally this aid is simply what each of us should be all the

time both giving and receiving. Every man and woman in the land ought

to prize above almost every other quality the capacity for self-help;

and yet every man and woman in the land will at some time or other

be sorely in need of the help of others, and at some time or other

will find that he or she can in turn give help even to the strongest.

The quality of self-help is so splendid a quality that nothing can

compensate for its loss; yet, like every virtue, it can be twisted into

a fault, and it becomes a fault if carried to the point of cold-hearted

arrogance, of inability to understand that now and then the strongest

may be in need of aid, and that for this reason alone, if for no other,

the strong should always be glad of the chance in turn to aid the weak.

The Young Men’s Christian Associations and the Young Women’s

Christian Associations, which have now spread over all the country,

are invaluable because they can reach every one. I am certainly a

beneficiary myself, having not infrequently used them as clubs or

reading-rooms when I was in some city in which I had but little or no

personal acquaintance. In part they develop the good qualities of those

who join them; in part they do what is even more valuable, that is,

simply give opportunity for the men or women to develop the qualities

themselves. In most cases they provide reading-rooms and gymnasiums,

and therefore furnish a means for a man or woman to pass his or her

leisure hours in profit or amusement as seems best. The average

individual will not spend the hours in which he is not working in doing

something that is unpleasant, and absolutely the only way permanently

to draw average men or women from occupations and amusements that

are unhealthy for soul or body is to furnish an alternative which

they will accept. To forbid all amusements, or to treat innocent and

vicious amusements as on the same plane, simply ensures recruits for

the vicious amusements. The Young Men’s and Young Women’s Christian

Associations would have demonstrated their value a hundredfold over

if they had done nothing more than furnish reading-rooms, gymnasiums,

and places where, especially after nightfall, those without homes,

or without attractive homes, could go without receiving injury. They

furnish meeting-grounds for many young men who otherwise would be

driven, perhaps to the saloon, or if not, then to some cigar-store or

other lounging-place, where at the best the conversation would not

be elevating, and at the worst companionships might be formed which

would lead to future disaster. In addition to this the associations

give every opportunity for self-improvement to those who care to

take advantage of the opportunity, and an astonishing number do take

advantage of it.

Mention was made above of some of the sources from which at times

we drew policemen while engaged in managing the New York Police

Department. Several came from Young Men’s Christian Associations. One

of them whom we got from the Bowery Branch of the Young Men’s Christian

Association I remember particularly. I had gone around there one night,

and the secretary mentioned to me that they had a young man who had

just rescued a woman from a burning building, showing great strength,

coolness, and courage. The story interested me, and I asked him to

send for the young fellow. When he turned up he proved to be a Jew,

Otto R——, who, when very young, had come over with his people from

Russia at the time of one of the waves of persecution in that country.

He was evidently physically of the right type, and as he had been

studying in the association classes for some time he was also mentally

fit, while his feat at the fire showed he had good moral qualities. We

were going to hold the examinations in a few days, and I told him to

try them. Sure enough, he passed and was appointed. He made one of the

best policemen we put on. As a result of his appointment, which meant

tripling the salary he had been earning, and making an immense bound in

social standing, he was able to keep his mother and old grandmother in

comfort, and see to the starting of his small brothers and sisters in

life; for he was already a good son and brother, so that it was not

surprising that he made a good policeman.

I have not dwelt on the work of the State charitable institutions, or

of those who are paid to do charitable work as officers and otherwise.

But it is bare justice to point out that the great majority of those

thus paid have gone into the work, not for the sake of the money, but

for the sake of the work itself, though, being dependent upon their own

exertions for a livelihood, they are obliged to receive some recompense

for their services.

The Strenuous Life The Works of Theodore Roosevelt, Volume 12 (of 14) · 第 4 / 14 段