THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 PRESENTED BY 
 
 PROF. CHARLES A. KOFOID AND 
 
 MRS. PRUDENCE W. KOFOID 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 in 2007 with funding from " 
 IVIicrosoft Corporation 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/calloftwentiethcOOjordrich 
 
THE CALL 
 
 OF THE 
 
 TWENTIETH CENTURY 
 
HE CALL of the 
 TWENTIETH 
 CENTURY 
 
 AN ADDRESS TO 
 YOUNG MEN 
 
 Bv DAVID STARR JORDAN 
 
 President of Leland Stanford Jr. University 
 
 &^^;25^ 
 
 BOSTON • AMERICAN UNITARIAN 
 ASSOCIATION.^ ^ ^ ^ ^ Ji ^ 
 
 \ iJa li /xUi hM 
 
Copyright 1903 
 American Unitarian AssociAxioif 
 

 TO 
 
 VERNON LYMAN KELLOGG 
 
 iv^349^50 
 
So 
 
 ti'ue that 
 
 your afterself— 
 
 ihe man yoa ought 
 
 to be — may in his time 
 
 he possible and actual * Far 
 
 atvayinthe twenties, the thirties 
 
 of the Twentieth Century, he is a^wait- 
 
 ing his turn* His body, his brain, his 
 
 soul are in your boyish hands* He cannot 
 
 help himself* What <will you lea've for him? 
 
 Will it be a brain unspoiled by lust or dissipation, 
 
 a mind trained to think and act, a nervous system 
 
 true as a dial in its response to the truth about you ? Will 
 
 you, boy of the Twentieth Century, let him come as a 
 
 man among men in his time, or <will you thro<w 
 
 a'way his inheritance before he has had the 
 
 chance to touch it ? Will you let him come, 
 
 taking your place, gaining through your 
 
 experiences, halloaed through your 
 
 joys, building on them his o^n, * 
 
 or m)ill you fling his hope 
 
 a'way, decreeing, <wanton- 
 
 like, that the man you 
 
 might ha've been 
 
 shall never 
 
 be? 
 
THE new century has come upon 
 us with a rush of energy that 
 no century has shown before* 
 Let us stand aside for a moment that 
 we may see what kind of a century it 
 is to be, what is the work it has to do, 
 and what manner of men it will de- 
 mand to do it* 
 
 €L In most regards one century is like 
 another. Just as men are men, so times 
 are times* In the Twentieth Century 
 there will be the same joys, the same 
 sorrows, the same marrying and giving 
 in marriage, the same round of work 
 and play, of wisdom and duty, of folly 
 and distress which other centuries have 
 seen* Just as each individual man has 
 the same organs, the same passions, 
 the same functions as all others, so it is 
 with all the centuries* But we know 
 men not by their likenesses, which are 
 many, but by differences in emphasis. 
 
 The 
 
 Twentieth 
 
 Century 
 
 The 
 Things 
 which 
 Endure 
 
THE CALL OF THE 
 
 by individual traits which are slight 
 and subtle^ but all-important in deter- 
 mining our likes and dislikes, our friend- 
 ships, loves, and hates* So with the 
 centuries; we remember those which 
 are past not by the mass of common 
 traits in history and development, but 
 by the few events or thoughts unno- 
 ticed at the time, but which stand out 
 like mountain peaks raised ^* above ob- 
 livion^s sea,^^ when the times are all 
 gathered in and the century begins to 
 blend with the ^Mnfinite azure of the 
 past/^ Not wars and conquests mark 
 a century* The hosts grow small in 
 the vanishing perspective, ** the captains 
 and the kings depart,^^ but the thoughts 
 of men, their attitude toward their en- 
 vironment, their struggles toward duty, 
 — these are the things which endure* 
 ^ Compared with the centuries that 
 are past, the Twentieth Century in its 
 broad outlines will be like the rest* It 
 will be selfish, generous, careless, de- 
 voted, fatuous, efficient* But three of 
 
 Three Dis- 
 tinguishing 
 Traits 
 
TWENTIETH CENTURY 
 
 The 
 
 Strenuous 
 Life 
 
 its traits must stand out above all others, 
 each raised to a higher degree than any- 
 other century has known. The Twen- 
 tieth Century above all others will be 
 strenuouSf complext and democratic. 
 C Strenuous the century must be, of 
 course. This we can all see, and we 
 have to thank the young man of the 
 Twentieth Century who gave us the 
 watchword of ** the strenuous life/' and 
 who has raised the apt phrase to the 
 dignity of a national purpose. Our 
 century has a host of things to do, bold 
 things, noble things, tedious things, diffi- 
 cult things, enduring things. It has only 
 a hundred years to do them in, and two 
 of these years are gone already. We 
 must be up and bestir ourselves. If we 
 are called to help in this work, there is 
 no time for an idle minute. Idle men 
 and idle women no doubt will cumber 
 our way, for there are many who have 
 never heard of the work to do, many 
 who will never know that there has 
 been a new century. These the century 
 
THE CALL OF THE 
 
 will pass by with the gentle tolerance 
 she shows to clams and squirrels, but 
 on those of us she calls to her service 
 she will lay heavy burdens of duty» 
 ** The color of life is red/^ Already the 
 fad of the drooping spirit, the end-of- 
 the-century pose, has given way to the 
 rush of the strenuous life, to the feeling 
 that struggle brings its own rewards 
 The men who are doing ask no favor 
 at the end» Life is repaid by the joy of 
 living it* 
 
 <!. As the century is strenuous so will 
 it be complex. The applications of sci- 
 ence have made the great world small, 
 while every part of it has grown insist- 
 ent. As the earth has shrunk to come 
 within our grasp, so has our own world 
 expanded to receive it. ^^ My mind to 
 me a kingdom is,^^ and to this kingdom 
 all the other kingdoms of the earth now 
 send their embassadors. The complex- 
 ity of life is shown by the extension of 
 the necessity of choice. Each of us 
 has to render a decision, to say yes or 
 
 The 
 Complexity 
 of Modern 
 Life 
 
TWENTIETH CENTURY 
 
 no a hundred times when our grand- 
 fathers were called upon a single time. 
 We must say yes or no to our neigh- 
 bors^ theories or plans or desires, and 
 whoever has lived or lives or may yet 
 live in any land or on any island of the 
 sea has become our neighbor. Through 
 modern civilization we are coming into 
 our inheritance, and this heirloom in- 
 cludes the best that any man has done 
 or thought since history and literature 
 and art began. It includes, too, all the 
 arts and inventions by which any men 
 of any time have separated truth from 
 error. Of one blood are all the people 
 of the earth, and whatsoever is done to 
 the least of these little ones in some de- 
 gree comes to me. We suffer from the 
 miasma of the Indian jungles; we starve 
 with the savages of the harvestless 
 islands ; we grow weak with the abused 
 peasants of the Russian steppes, who 
 leave us the legacy of their grippe. 
 The great volcano which buries far off 
 cities at its foot casts its pitying dust 
 
THE CALL OF THE 
 
 The 
 
 Passing of 
 Simplicity 
 
 over us. It is said that through the 
 bonds of commerce, common trade, and 
 common need, there is growing up the 
 fund of a great ** bank of human kind- 
 ness,^' no genuine draft on which is ever 
 left dishonored^ Whoever is in need of 
 help the world over, by that token has a 
 claim on us* 
 
 €L In our material life we draw our re- 
 sources from every land* Clothing, 
 spices, fruits, toys, household furniture, 
 — we lay contributions on the whole 
 world for the most frugal meal, for the 
 humblest dwelling* We need the best 
 work of every nation and every nation 
 asks our best of us* The day of home- 
 brewed ale, of home-made bread, and 
 home-spun clothing is already past with 
 us* Better than we can do, our neigh- 
 bors send us, and we must send our 
 own best in return* With home-made 
 garments also pass away inherited pol- 
 itics and hereditary religion, with all the 
 support of caste and with all its barriers* 
 We must work all this out for ourselves ; 
 
TWENTIETH CENTURY 
 
 wc must make our own place in society ; 
 we must frame our own creeds; we 
 must live our own religion; for no 
 longer can one man^s religion be taken 
 unquestionably by any other* As the 
 world has been unified, so is the individ- 
 ual unit exalted* With all this, the 
 simplicity of life is passing away* Our 
 front doors are wide open as the trains 
 go by* The caravan traverses our 
 front yard* We speak to millions, mil- 
 lions speak to us ; and we must cultivate 
 the social tact, the gentleness, the adroit- 
 ness, the firmness necessary to carry out 
 our own designs without thwarting 
 those of others* Time no longer flows 
 on evenly. We must count our mo- 
 ments, so much for ourselves, so much 
 for the world we serve and which serves 
 us in return* We must be swift and ac- 
 curate in the part we play in a drama so 
 mighty, so strenuous, and so complex* 
 CLMore than any of the others, the Democratic 
 Twentieth Century will be democratic. ^^^^^^ 
 The greatest discovery of the Nineteenth 
 
8 
 
 THE CALL OF THE 
 
 Concerning 
 Royalty 
 
 Century was that of the reality of exter- 
 nal things* That of the Twentieth 
 Century will be this axiom in so- 
 cial geometry: '^A straight line is the 
 shortest distance between two points/' 
 K something needs doing, do it; the 
 more plainly, directly, honestly, the 
 better* 
 
 €L The earlier centuries cared little for 
 the life of a man* Hence they failed to 
 discriminate* In masses and mobs they 
 needed kings and rulers but could not 
 choose them. Hence the device of se- 
 lecting as ruler the elder son of the last 
 ruler, whatever his nature might be* 
 A child, a lunatic, a monster, a sage, — 
 it was all the same to these unheeding 
 centuries* The people could not follow 
 those they understood or who under- 
 stood them* They must trust all to 
 the blind chance of heredity* Tyrant 
 or figurehead, the mob, which from its 
 own indifference creates the pomp of 
 royalty, threw up its caps for the king, 
 and blindly died for him in his courage 
 
TWENTIETH CENTURY 
 
 or in his folly with the same unques- 
 tioning loyalty^ In like manner did the 
 mob fashion lords and princes, each in 
 its own image^ Not the man who 
 would do or think or help, but the eld- 
 est son of a former lord was chosen for 
 its homage* The result of it all was 
 that no use was made of the forces of 
 nature, for those who might have 
 learned to control them were hunted to 
 their death* The men who could think 
 and act for themselves were in no posi- 
 tion to give their actions leverage. 
 CLWhen a people really means to do 
 something, it must resort to democracy* 
 It must value men as men, not as func- 
 tions of a chain of conventionalities* 
 ''America,^^ says Emerson, '^ means 
 opportunity ; '^ opportunity for work, op- 
 portunity for training, opportunity for 
 influence* Democracy exalts the in- 
 dividual* It realizes that of all the 
 treasures of the nation, the talent of its 
 individual men is the most important* 
 It realizes that its first duty is to waste 
 
 The 
 Meaning of 
 Democracy 
 
JO THE CALL OF THE 
 
 none of this. It cannot afford to leave 
 its Miltons mute and inglorious nor to 
 let its village Hampdens waste their 
 strength on petty obstacles while it has 
 great tasks for them to accomplish. In 
 a democracy, when work is to be done 
 men rise to do it. No matter what the 
 origin of our Washingtons and Lin- 
 colns, our Grants and our Shermans, 
 our Clevelands or our Roosevelts, our 
 Eliots, our Hadleys, or our Remsens, 
 we know that they are being made 
 ready for every crisis which may need 
 their hand, for every work we would 
 have them carry through. To give 
 each man the training he deserves is 
 to bring the right man face to face with 
 his own opportunity. The straight 
 line is the shortest distance between 
 two points in life as in geometry. For 
 the work of a nation we may not call 
 on Lord This or Earl That, whose an- 
 cestors have Iain on velvet for a thou- 
 sand years ; we want the man who can 
 do the work, who can face the dragon, 
 
TWENTIETH CENTURY 
 
 n 
 
 The 
 
 Method of 
 Achieve- 
 ment 
 
 or carry the message to Garcia. A 
 man whose nerves are not relaxed by 
 centuries of luxury will serve us best» 
 Give him a fair chance to try ; give, us 
 a fair chance to try him. This is the 
 meaning of democracy; not fuss and 
 feathers, pomp and gold lace, but ac- 
 complishment. 
 
 CL Democracy does not mean equality 
 — just the reverse of this, it means in- 
 dividual responsibility, equality before 
 the law, of course — equality of oppor- 
 tunity, but no other equality save that 
 won by faithful service. That social 
 system which bids men rise must also 
 let them fall if they cannot maintain 
 themselves. To choose the right man 
 means the dismissal of the wrong. 
 The weak, the incompetent, the un- 
 trained, the dissipated find no growing 
 welcome in the century which is com- 
 ing. It will have no place for unskilled 
 laborers. A bucket of water and a 
 basket of coal will do all that the un- 
 skilled laborer can do if we have skilled 
 
12 
 
 THE CALL OF THE 
 
 men to direct them. The unskilled 
 laborer is no product of democracy. He 
 exists in spite of democracy. The 
 children of the republic are entitled to 
 something better. A generous edu- 
 cation, a well-directed education, should 
 be the birthright of each one of them. 
 Democracy may even intensify natural 
 inequalities. The man who cannot say 
 no to cheap and vulgar temptations falls 
 all the lower in the degree to which 
 he is a free agent. In competition with 
 men alert, loyal, trained and creative, 
 the dullard is condemned to a lifetime 
 of hard labor, through no direct fault 
 of his own. Keep the capable man 
 down and you may level the incapable 
 one up. But this the Twentieth Cen- 
 tury will not do. This democracy will 
 not do ; this it is not now doing, and 
 this it never will attempt. The social 
 condition which would give all men 
 equal reward, equal enjoyment, equal 
 responsibility, may be a condition to 
 dream of. It may be Utopia; it is not 
 
TWENTIETH CENTURY 
 
 13 
 
 democracy. Sir Henry Maine de- 
 scribes the process of civilization as the 
 *^ movement from status to contract/^ 
 This is the movement from mass to 
 man, from subservience to individual- 
 ism, from tradition to democracy, from 
 pomp and circumstance of non-essen- 
 tials to the method of achievement* 
 ^ Owen Wister in ^^ The Virginian ^* True 
 says : '' All America is divided into two Aristocracy 
 classes, — the quality and the equality* 
 The latter will always recognize the 
 former when mistaken for it* Both 
 will be with us until our women bear 
 nothing but kings. It was through the 
 Declaration of Independence that we 
 Americans acknowledged the eternal 
 inequality of man* For by it we abol- 
 ished a cut-and-dried aristocracy* We 
 had seen little men artificially held up 
 in high places, and great men artifi- 
 cially held down in low places, and our 
 own justice-loving hearts abhorred this 
 violence to human nature* Therefore 
 we decreed that every man should, 
 
J4 
 
 THE CALL OF THE 
 
 thenceforth have equal liberty to find 
 his own level By this very decree we 
 acknowledged and gave freedom to true 
 aristocracy, saying, ^ Let the best man 
 win, whoever he is/ Let the best man 
 win ! That is Americans word* That 
 is true democracy. And true democ- 
 racy and true aristocracy are one and 
 the same thing. If anybody cannot see 
 this, so much the worse for his eye- 
 sight.'' 
 
 CL Pducis vivat hamanam genus: 
 *^for the few the race should live,'' — 
 this is the discarded motto of another 
 age. The few live for the many. 
 The clean and strong enrich the life of 
 all with their wisdom, with their con- 
 quests. It is to bring about the larger 
 equalities of opportunity, or purpose, 
 that we exalt the talents of the few. 
 €L This has not always been clear, even 
 in the history of the Republic. My 
 own great grandfather, John Elderkin 
 Waldo, said at Tolland, Connecticut, 
 more than a century ago : ** Times are 
 
 The 
 
 Talents of 
 the Few 
 
 An Early 
 View 
 
TWENTIETH CENTURY 15 
 
 hard with us in New England* They 
 will never be any better until each farm 
 laborer in Connecticut is willing to work 
 all day for a sheep's head and pluck/' 
 just as they used to do before the red 
 schoolhouses on the hills began to 
 preach their doctrines of sedition and 
 equality. There could never be good 
 times again, so he thought, till the many 
 again lived for the few* 
 
 C» It is in the saving of the few who The 
 serve the many that the progress of civ- ^'"® °* 
 ilization lies. In the march of the com- 
 mon man, and in the influence of the 
 •man uncommon who rises freely from 
 the ranks, we have all of history that 
 counts. 
 
 C In a picture gallery at Brussels there some 
 is a painting by Wiertz, most cynical ^"^^^^^ 
 of artists, representing the man of the 
 Future and the things of the Past. A 
 naturalist holds in his right hand 
 a magnifying glass, and in the other a 
 handful of Napoleon and his marshals, 
 guns, and battle-flags, — tiny objects 
 
16 
 
 THE CALL OF THE 
 
 and their 
 Signifi- 
 cance 
 
 A 
 
 Discarded 
 Motto 
 
 swelling with meaningless glory^ He 
 examines these intensely, while a child at 
 his side looks on in open-eyed wonder* 
 She cannot understand what a grown 
 man can find in these curious trifles 
 that he should take the trouble to study 
 them. 
 
 €t This painting is a parable designed to 
 show NapoIeon^s real place in history. 
 It was painted within a dozen miles 
 of the field of Waterloo, and not many 
 years after the noise of its cannon had 
 died away. It shows the point of view 
 of the man of the future. Save in 
 the degradation of France, through the 
 impoverishment of its life-blood, there 
 is little in human civilization to recall 
 the disastrous incident of Napoleon^s 
 existence. 
 
 €L Pducis vivdt humanum genus : ** the 
 many live for the few.^^ This shall 
 be true no longer. The earth belongs 
 to him who can use it, and the only 
 force which lasts is that which is used 
 to make men free. 
 
TWENTIETH CENTURY 
 
 J7 
 
 H ''Triumphant America/^ says 
 George Horace Lorimer, ''certainly does 
 not mean each and every one of our 
 seventy-eight millions. For instance, it 
 does not include the admitted idiots and 
 lunatics, the registered paupers and 
 parasites, the caged criminals, the six 
 million illiterates. In a sense, it includes 
 the twenty-five to thirty million children, 
 for 'they exert a tremendous influence 
 upon the grown people. But in no 
 sense does it include the whittlers on 
 dry-goods boxes, the bar-room loafers, 
 the fellows that listen all day long for 
 the whistle to blow, those who are the 
 first to be mentioned whenever there is 
 talk of cutting down the force. It does 
 not include those of our statesmen who 
 spend their time in promoting corrupt 
 jobs, or in hunting places for lazy heel- 
 ers. It does not include the doctors who 
 reach their high-water mark for profes- 
 sional knowledge on the day they grad- 
 uate, or the lawyers who lie and cheat 
 and procure injustice for the sake of fees. 
 
 Retarders 
 
 of 
 
 Progress 
 
J8 
 
 THE CALL OF THE 
 
 The 
 
 Power of a 
 Bad 
 Example 
 
 The 
 
 Common 
 
 Ground 
 
 The Work 
 of the 
 Century 
 
 4Q[ ** Most of these — even the idiots and 
 criminals — do a little something tow- 
 ards progress^ This world is so hap- 
 pily ordered that it is impossible for one 
 man to do much harm or to avoid doing 
 some good; and one of the greatest 
 forces for good is the power of a bad 
 example^ Still it is not our bad exam- 
 ples that make us get on and earn us 
 these smothers of flowery compliment* 
 fL ** Some of us are tall and others shorty 
 some straight and others crooked, some 
 strong, others feeble ; some of us run, 
 others walk, others snail it* But all, 
 all have their feet upon the same level 
 of the common earth* And Americans 
 worst enemy is he — or she — who by 
 word or look encourages another to 
 think otherwise* Head as high as you 
 please ; but feet always upon the common 
 ground, never upon anybody's shoul- 
 ders or neck, even though he be weak 
 or willing*^' 
 
 <D[ So in this strenuous and complex 
 age, this age of ^^ fierce democracy,'' 
 
TWENTIETH CENTURY 
 
 19 
 
 what have we to do, and with what 
 manner of men shall we work ? Young 
 men of the Twentieth Century, will your 
 times find place for you? There is 
 plenty to do in every direction^ That 
 is plain enough* All the pages in this 
 little book, or in a very large one, would 
 be filled by a mere enumeration^ In 
 agriculture a whole great empire is yet to 
 be won in the arid west, and the west 
 that is not arid and the east that was 
 never so must be turned into one vast 
 market-garden* The Twentieth Cen- 
 tury will treat a farm as a friend, and it 
 will yield rich returns for such friend- 
 ship* In the Twentieth Century vast re- 
 gions will be fitted to civilization, not 
 by imperialism, which blasts, but by 
 permeation, which reclaims* 
 
 €L The table-lands of Mexico, the plains Agriculture 
 of Manchuria, the Pampas of Argentine, 
 the moors of Northern Japan, all these 
 regions in our own temperate zone offer 
 a welcome to the Anglo-Saxon farmer* 
 The great tropics are less hopeful, but 
 
20 
 
 THE CALL OF THE 
 
 Forestry 
 
 they have never had a fair trial* The 
 northern nations have tried to exploit 
 them in haste, and then to get away, 
 never to stay with them and work pa- 
 tiently to find out their best. Some day 
 the possibilities of the Torrid Zone may 
 come to us as a great discovery. 
 <L There is need of men in forestry ; for 
 we must win back the trees we have 
 slain with such ruthless hand. The 
 lumberman of the future will pick ripe 
 trees and save the rest as carefully as 
 the herdsman selects his stock. In en- 
 gineering, in mining, in invention, there 
 are endless possibilities. Every man 
 who masters what is already known in 
 any one branch of applied science, makes 
 his own fortune. He who can add a 
 little, save a little, do something better or 
 something cheaper, makes the fortune of 
 a hundred others. *^ There is always 
 room for a man of force, and he makes 
 room for many.^^ 
 
 fL Andrew Carnegie once said that the 
 foundation of his fortune lay in the 
 
 Expert 
 Training 
 
TWENTIETH CENTURY 
 
 21 
 
 Engineer- 
 ing 
 
 employment of trained chemists^ while 
 other men made steel by rule df thumb* 
 Trained chemists made better steel, fust 
 a little* They devised ways to make 
 it cheaper, just a little, and they found 
 means to utilize the slag* All this 
 means hundreds of millions of doflars, if 
 done on a large enough scale* 
 €L There is no limit to the demands of 
 engineering* A million waterfalls dash 
 down the slopes of the Sierras* The 
 patient sun has hauled the water up 
 from the sea and spread it in snow over 
 the mountains* The same sun will 
 melt the snow, and as the water falls 
 back to the sea it will yield again the 
 force it cost to bring it to its heights* 
 Thus sunshine and falling water can be 
 transmuted into power* This power 
 already lights the cities of California, 
 and some day it may be changed into 
 the heat which moves a thousand facto- 
 ries* All these are the problems of the 
 Electrical Engineer* Equally rich are 
 the opportunities in other forms of en- 
 
22 
 
 THE CALL OF THE 
 
 Commerce 
 
 ginecring* There is no need to be in 
 haste, perhaps, but the Twentieth Cen- 
 tury is eager in its quest for gold^ The 
 mother lode runs along the foothills 
 from Bering Straits to Cape Hom» 
 From end to end of the continent the 
 Twentieth Century will bring this gold 
 to light, and carry it all away* The 
 Mining Engineer who knows the moun- 
 tains best finds his fortune ready to his 
 hand. Civil Engineers, Steam Engi- 
 neers, Naval Engineers, whoever knows 
 how to manage things or men, even 
 Social Engineers, Labor Engineers, all 
 find an eager welcome. There are 
 never too many of those who know 
 how ; but the day of the rule of thumb 
 has long since past. The Engineer of 
 to-day must create, not imitate. And to 
 him who can create, this last century 
 we call the Twentieth is yet part of the 
 first day of Creation. 
 €L In commerce the field is always 
 open for young men. The world^s 
 trade is barely yet begun. We hear 
 
TWENTIETH CENTURY 23 
 
 people whining over the spread of the 
 commercial spirit, but what they mean 
 is not the spirit of commerce^ It is per- 
 sistence of provincial selfishness, a spirit 
 which has been with us since the fall of 
 Adam, and which the centuries of whit- 
 ening sails has as yet not eradicated. 
 The spirit of fair commerce is a noble 
 spirit. Through commerce the world 
 is unified. Through commerce grows 
 tolerance, and through tolerance, peace 
 and solidarity. Commerce is world- 
 wide barter, each nation giving what it 
 can best produce for what is best among 
 others. Freedom breeds commerce as 
 commerce demands freedom. Only free 
 men can buy and sell ; for without sell- 
 ing no man nor nation has means to 
 buy. When China is a nation, her 
 people will be no longer a ^^ yellow 
 peril.'^ It is poverty, slavery, misery, 
 which makes men dangerous. In the 
 words of ^* Joss Chinchingoss,^^ the Kip- 
 ling of Singapore, we have only to give 
 the Chinaman 
 
. 24 
 
 THE CALL OF THE 
 
 ** The chance at home that he makes for him- 
 self elsewhere^ 
 And the star of the Jelly-fish nation mid 
 others shall shine as f air*^ 
 
 The 
 
 March of 
 Commerce 
 
 d. Since the day^ twenty-three years 
 ago, on which I first passed through 
 the Golden Gate of California, I have 
 seen the steady increase of the shipping 
 which enters that channel. There are 
 ten vessels to-day passing in and out 
 to one in J 880. Another twenty-five 
 years will see a hundred times as many. 
 We have discovered the Orient, and 
 even more, the Orient has discovered 
 us. We may not rule it by force of 
 arms; for that counts nothing in trade 
 or civilization. Commerce follows the 
 flag only when the flag flies on mer- 
 chant ships. It has no interest in 
 following the flag to see a fight. Com- 
 merce follows fair play and mutual 
 service. Through the centuries of 
 war men have only played at com- 
 merce. The Twentieth Century will 
 take it seriously, and it will call for 
 
TWENTIETH CENTURY 
 
 25 
 
 men to do its work^ It will call more 
 loudly than war has ever done, but it 
 will ask its men not to die bravely, but 
 to live wisely, and above all truthfully 
 to watch their accounts, 
 d. The Twentieth Century will find 
 room for pure science as well as for 
 applied science and ingenious invention* 
 Each Helmholtz of the future will give 
 rise to a thousand Edisons. Exact 
 knowledge must precede any form of 
 applications. The reward of pure 
 science will be, in the future as in the 
 past, of its own kind, not fame nor 
 money, but the joy of finding truth. 
 To this joy no favor of fortune can 
 add. The student of nature in all the 
 ages has taken the vow of poverty. 
 To him money, his own or others, 
 means only the power to do more or 
 better work. 
 
 €L The Twentieth Century will have 
 its share in literature and art. Most 
 of the books it will print will not be 
 literature, for idle books are written 
 
 Pure 
 Science 
 
 Literature 
 and Art 
 
26 THE CALL OF THE 
 
 for idle people, and many idle people 
 are left over from less insistent times* 
 The books sold by the hundred thou- 
 sands to men and women not trained 
 to make time count, will be forgot- 
 ten before the century is half over* 
 The books it saves will be books of 
 its own kind, plain, straightforward, 
 clear-cut, marked by that ^'fanaticism 
 for veracity ^^ which means everything 
 else that is good in the intellectual and 
 moral development of man. The lit- 
 erature of form is giving way already 
 to the literature of power* We care 
 less and less for the surprises and scin- 
 tillations of clever fellows; we care 
 more and more for the real thoughts 
 of real men* We find that the deep- 
 est thoughts can be expressed in the 
 simplest language* ^'A straight line 
 is the shortest distance between two 
 points'^ in literature as well as in 
 mechanics* '^ In simplicity is strength,^^ 
 as Watt said of machinery, and it is 
 true in art as well as in mechanics* 
 
TWENTIETH CENTURY 
 
 27 
 
 ^ In medicine, the field of action is 
 growing infinitely broader, now that 
 its training is securely based on science, 
 and the divining rod no longer stands 
 first among its implements of precision^ 
 Not long ago, it is said, a young medi- 
 cal student in New York committed 
 suicide, leaving behind this touching 
 sentence : ^' I die because there is room 
 for no more doctors/^ And this just 
 now, when for the first time it is worth 
 while to be a doctor. Room for no 
 more doctors, no doubt, of the kind to 
 which he belonged — men who know 
 nothing and care nothing for science 
 and its methods, who choose the medi- 
 cal school which will turn them loose 
 most quickly and cheaply, who have 
 no feeling for their patients, and whose 
 prescriptions are given with no more 
 conscience than goes into the fabrica- 
 tion of an electric belt or the compound- 
 ing of a patent medicine. Room for 
 no more doctors whose highest con- 
 ception is to look wise, take his chances. 
 
 Medicine 
 
28 THE CALL OF THE 
 
 and pocket the fee* Room for no more 
 doctors just now, when the knowledge 
 of human anatomy and physiology has 
 shown the way to a thousand uses 
 of preventive surgery* Room for no 
 more doctors, when the knowledge of 
 the microbes and their germs has given 
 the hope of successful warfare against 
 all contagious diseases; room for no 
 more doctors, when antiseptics and an- 
 aesthetics have proved their value in 
 a thousand pain-saving ways. Room 
 for no more doctors now, when the 
 doctor must be an honest man, with 
 a sound knowledge of the human body 
 and a mastery of the methods of the 
 sciences on which this knowledge de- 
 pends* Room for no more doctors of 
 the incompetent class, because the wiser 
 times demand a better service. 
 €1, What is true in medicine applies also 
 to the profession of law. The petti- 
 fogger must give place to the jurist. 
 The law is not a device for getting 
 around the statutes. It is the science 
 
 Law 
 
TWENTIETH CENTURY 29 
 
 and art of equity^ The lawyers of 
 the future will not be mere pleaders 
 before juries* They will save their 
 clients from need of judge or jury* In 
 every civilized nation the lawyers must 
 be the law-givers. The sword has 
 given place to the green bag. The de- 
 mands of the Twentieth Century will 
 be that the statutes coincide with equity. 
 This condition educated lawyers can 
 bring about. To know equity is to be 
 its defender. 
 
 CLIi^ politics the demand for serious Politics 
 service must grow. As we have to do 
 with wise and clean men, statesmen, 
 instead of vote-manipulators, we shall 
 feel more and more the need for them. 
 We shall demand not only men who 
 can lead in action, but men who can 
 prevent unwise action. Often the policy 
 which seems most attractive to the ma- 
 jority is full of danger for the future. 
 We need men who can face popular 
 opinion, and, if need be, to face it down. 
 The best citizen is one not afraid to 
 
30 
 
 THE CALL OF THE 
 
 Temporary 
 Evils 
 
 Journalism 
 
 cast his vote away by voting with the 
 minority^ 
 
 €L As we look at it in the rough, the po- 
 litical outlook of democracy often seems 
 discouraging^ A great, rich, busy na- 
 tion cannot stop to see who grabs its 
 pennies^ We are plundered by the rich, 
 we are robbed by the poor, and trusts 
 and unions play the tyrant over both. 
 But all these evils are temporary. The 
 men that have solved greater problems 
 in the past will not be balked by these. 
 Whatever is won for the cause of equity 
 and decency is never lost again. ** Eter- 
 nal vigilance is the price of liberty,^^ and 
 in this Twentieth Century there are 
 always plenty who are awake. One by 
 one political reforms take their place on 
 our statute books, and each one comes 
 to stay. 
 
 €L In all this, the journalist of the future 
 may find an honorable place. He will 
 learn to temper enterprise with justice, 
 audacity with fidelity, omniscience with 
 truthfulness. When he does this he 
 
TWENTIETH CENTURY 
 
 31 
 
 will become a natural leader of men be- 
 cause he will be their real servants To 
 mould public opinion, to furnish a truth- 
 ful picture of the times from day to day, 
 either of these ideals in journalism gives 
 ample room for the play of the highest 
 manly energy. 
 
 CThe need of the teacher will not Teaching 
 grow less as the century goes on. The 
 history of the future is written in the 
 schools of to-day, and the reform which 
 gives us better schools is the greatest of 
 reforms. It is said that the teacher's 
 noblest work is to lead the child to his 
 inheritance. This is the inheritance he 
 would win; the truth that men have 
 tested in the past, and the means by 
 which they were led to know that it was 
 truth. '*' Free should the scholar be — 
 free and brave/' and to such as these 
 the Twentieth Century will bring the 
 reward of the scholar. 
 
 €LThe Twentieth Century will need Religion 
 its preachers and leaders in religion. 
 Some say, idly, that religion is losing 
 
32 THE CALL OF THE 
 
 her hold in these strenuous days» But 
 she is not. She is simply changing her 
 grip. The religion of this century will 
 be more practical, more real It will 
 deal with the days of the week as 
 well as with the Sabbath. It will be 
 as patent in the marts of trade as in the 
 walls of a cathedral, for a man^s religion 
 is his working hypothesis of life, not of 
 life in some future world, but of life right 
 here to-day, the only day we have in 
 which to build a life. It will not look 
 backward exclusively to ** a dead fact 
 stranded on the shore of the oblivious 
 years,^' nor will its rewards be found 
 alone in the life to come. The world of 
 to-day will not be a ^Wale of tears'^ 
 through which sinful men are to walk 
 unhappily toward final reward. It will 
 be a world of light and color and joy, 
 a world in which each of us may have 
 a noble though a humble part, — the 
 work of the ^'holy life of action.'^ It 
 will find religion in love and wisdom 
 and virtue, not in bloodless asceticism. 
 
TWENTIETH CENTURY 
 
 33 
 
 philosophical disputation, the mainte- 
 nance of withered creeds, the cultivation 
 of fruitless emotion, or the recrudes- 
 cence of forms from which the life has 
 gone out^ It is possible, Thoreau tells 
 us, for us to ^' walk in hallowed cathe- 
 drals,^^ and this in our every-day lives 
 of profession or trade^ It is the loyalty 
 to duty, the love of God through the 
 love of men, which may transform the 
 workshop to a cathedral, and the life of 
 to-day may be divine none the less be- 
 cause it is strenuous and complex* It 
 may be all the more so because it is 
 democratic, even the Sabbath and its 
 duties being no longer exalted above 
 the other holy days* 
 4XWhat sort of men does the century 
 need for all this work it has to do? We 
 may be sure that it will choose its own, 
 and those who cannot serve it will be 
 cast aside unpityingly* Those it can 
 use it will pay generously, each after 
 its kind, some with money, some with 
 fame, some with the sense of power, 
 
 3 
 
 The Men 
 of the 
 Century 
 
34 
 
 THE CALL OF THE 
 
 The 
 Useless 
 
 Youth and 
 Energy 
 
 some with the joy of service* Some 
 will work hard in spite of vast wealth, 
 some only after taking the vow of 
 poverty* 
 
 €L Those not needed you can find any 
 day* They lean against lamp-posts in 
 platoons, they crowd the saloons, they 
 stand about railway stations all day 
 long to see trains go by* They dally 
 on the lounges of fashionable clubs* 
 They may be had tied in bundles by 
 the employers of menial labor* Their 
 women work at the wash-tubs, and 
 crowd the sweat shops of great cities; 
 or, idle rich, they may dawdle in the 
 various ways in which men and wo- 
 men dispose of time, yielding nothing 
 in return for it* You, whom the cen- 
 tury wants, belong to none of these 
 classes* Yours must be the spirit of the 
 times, strenuous, complex, democratic* 
 C A young man is a mighty reservoir 
 of unused power* ** Give me health and 
 a day and I will put the pomp of em- 
 perors to shame*'^ If I save my strength 
 
TWENTIETH CENTURY 
 
 35 
 
 and make the most of it, there is scarcely 
 a limit to what I may do* The right 
 kind of men using their strength rightly^ 
 far outrun their own ambitions, not as 
 to wealth and fame and position, but 
 as to actual accomplishment. ** I never 
 dreamed that I should do so much/^ 
 is the frequent saying of a successful 
 man; for all men are ready to help him 
 who throws his whole soul into the 
 
 service* 
 
 C^Men of training the century must 
 demand. It is impossible to drop into 
 greatness. ** There is always room at 
 the top/^ so the Chicago merchant said 
 to his son, ** but the elevator is not run- 
 ning/^ You must walk up the stairs 
 on your own feet. It is as easy to do 
 great things as small, if you only know 
 how. The only way to learn to do 
 great things is to do small things well, 
 patiently, loyally. If your ambitions 
 run high, it will take a long time in 
 preparation. There is no hurry. No 
 wise man begrudges any of the time 
 
 The 
 
 Value of 
 Training 
 
36 
 
 THE CALL OF THE 
 
 Unsteadi- 
 ness of 
 Purpose 
 
 A College 
 Education 
 
 spent in the preparation for life, so long 
 as it is actually making ready* 
 ^ ** Profligacy/' says Emerson, '* con- 
 sists not in spending, but in spending off 
 the line of your career* The crime 
 which bankrupts men and nations is 
 that of turning aside from one's main 
 purpose to serve a job here and there/' 
 ^ The value of the college training of to- 
 day cannot be too strongly emphasized* 
 You cannot save time nor money by 
 omitting it, whatever the profession on 
 which you enter. The college is be- 
 coming a part of life. For a long time 
 the American college was swayed by 
 the traditions of the English aristocracy* 
 Its purpose was to certify to a man's 
 personal culture* The young man was 
 sent to college that he might be a member 
 of a gentler caste* His degree was his 
 badge that in his youth he had done the 
 proper thing for a gentleman to do^ It 
 attested not that he was wise or good or 
 competent to serve, but that he was 
 bred a gentleman among gentlemen* 
 
TWENTIETH CENTURY 37 
 
 So long as the title of academic bachelor 
 had this significance, the man of action 
 passed it by. It had no meaning to him, 
 and the fine edge of accuracy in thought 
 and perception, which only the college 
 can give, was wanting in his work. 
 The college education did not seem to 
 disclose the secret of power, and the 
 man of affairs would have none of it. 
 C A higher ideal came from Germany, Personal 
 — that of erudition. The German f"!"'^^"- 
 scholar knows some one thing thor- 
 oughly. He may be rude or uncultured, 
 he may not know how to use his knowl- 
 edge, but whatever this knowlege is, it 
 is sound and genuine. Thoroughness 
 of knowledge gives the scholar self-re- 
 spect ; it makes possible a broad horizon 
 and clear perspective. From these 
 sources, English and German, the 
 American University is developing its 
 own essential idea, — that of personal 
 effectiveness. The American Univer- 
 sity of to-day seeks neither culture nor 
 erudition as its final end. It values 
 
 ness 
 
38 
 
 THE CALL OF THE 
 
 both as means to greater ends» It looks 
 forward to work in life* Its triumphs 
 in these regards the century will see 
 clearly. It will value culture and treas- 
 ure erudition, but it will use both as 
 helps toward doing things* It will find 
 its inspiration in the needs of the world 
 as it is, and it is through such effort 
 that the world that is to be shall be 
 made a reality* A great work demands 
 full preparation* It takes larger pro- 
 vision for a cruise to the Cape of Good 
 Hope than for a trip to the Isle of Dogs* 
 For this reason the century will ask its 
 men to take a college education* 
 CL It will ask much more than that, — 
 a college education where the work is 
 done in earnest, students and teachers 
 realizing its serious value, and besides 
 all this, it will demand the best special 
 training which its best universities can 
 give* For the Twentieth Century will 
 not be satisfied with the universities of 
 the fifteenth or seventeenth centuries* 
 It will create its own, and the young 
 
 The 
 
 Serious- 
 ness of 
 University 
 Work 
 
TWENTIETH CENTURY 
 
 39 
 
 man who does the century^s work will 
 be a product of its university system^ Of 
 this we may be sure, the training for 
 strenuous life is not in academic idleness. 
 The development of living ideals is not 
 in an atmosphere of cynicism^ The 
 blase, lukewarm, fin-de-siecle young 
 man of the clubs will not represent uni- 
 versity culture, nor, on the other hand, 
 will culture be dominated by a cheap 
 utilitarianism* 
 
 <I^^^You will hear every day around 
 you,'^ said Emerson to the divinity 
 students of Harvard, ^^ the maxims of a 
 low prudence. You will hear that your 
 first duty is to get land and money, 
 place and fame. ^What is this truth 
 you seek ? What is this beauty ? ^ men 
 will ask in derision. K, nevertheless, 
 God have called any of you to explain 
 truth and beauty, be bold, be firm, be 
 true. When you shall say, ^As others 
 do, so will I ; I renounce, I am sorry for 
 it — my early visions; I must eat the 
 good of the land, and let learning and ro- 
 
 A Mes- 
 sage from 
 Emerson 
 
40 
 
 THE CALL OF THE 
 
 Clear 
 Thought 
 and Firm 
 Resolution 
 
 mantic speculations go until some more 
 favorable season/ then dies the man in 
 you ; then once more perish the buds of 
 art and poetry and science, as they have 
 died already in a hundred thousand 
 men* The hour of that choice is the 
 crisis in your history/^ 
 €L The age will demand steady headed 
 men, men whose feet stand on the 
 ground, men who can see things as 
 they really are, and act accordingly* 
 ** The resolute facing of the world as 
 it is, with all the garments of make- 
 believe thrown off,'^ — this, according 
 to Huxley, is the sole cure for the evils 
 which beset men and nations* The 
 only philosophy of life is that derived 
 from its science* We know right from 
 wrong because the destruction is plain 
 in human experience* Right action 
 brings abundance of life* Wrong ac- 
 tion brings narrowness, decay, and 
 degeneration* A man must have prin-' 
 ciples of life above all questions of the 
 mere opportunities of to-day, but these 
 
TWENTIETH CENTURY 4J 
 
 principles are themselves derived from 
 experience. They belong to the higher 
 opportunism, the consideration of what 
 is best in the long run* The man who is 
 controlled by an arbitrary system with- 
 out reference to conditions, is ineffec- 
 tive* He becomes a crank, a fanatic, 
 a man whose aims are out of all pro- 
 portion to results. This is because he 
 is dealing with an imaginary world, 
 not with the world as it is. We may 
 admire the valiant knight who displays 
 a noble chivalry in fighting wind-mills, 
 but we do not call on a wind-mill 
 warrior when we have some plain, 
 real work to accomplish. All prog- 
 ress, large or small, is the resultant 
 of many forces. We cannot single 
 out any one of these as of dominant 
 value, and ignore or despise the others. 
 In moving through the solar system, 
 the earth is falling toward the sun as 
 well as flying away from it. In human 
 society, egoism is coexistent with al- 
 truism, competition with co-operation, 
 
42 
 
 THE CALL OF THE 
 
 mutual struggle with mutual aid. Each 
 is as old as the other and each as im- 
 portant; for the one could not exist 
 without the other. Not in air-built 
 Utopias, but in flesh and blood, wood 
 and stone and iron, will the movement 
 of humanity find its realization. 
 Gambling ^ Don^t count on gambling as a means 
 of success. Gambling rests on the de- 
 sire to get something for nothing. So 
 does burglary and larceny. ** The love 
 of money is the root of all evil.^' This 
 was said long ago, and it is not exactly 
 what the wise man meant. He was 
 speaking of unearned money. Money 
 is power, and to save up power is 
 thrift. On thrift civilization is builded. 
 The root of all evil is the desire to get 
 money without earning it. To get 
 something for nothing demoralizes all 
 effort* The man who gets a windfall 
 spends his days watching the wind. 
 The man who wins in a lottery buys 
 more lottery tickets. Whoever receives 
 bad money, soon throws good money 
 
TWENTIETH CENTURY 
 
 43 
 
 after bad. He will throw that of others 
 when his own is gone. No firm or 
 corporation is rich enough to afford to 
 keep gamblers as clerks^ 
 
 H The age will demand men of good vulgarity 
 taste who care for the best they know. 
 Vulgarity is satisfaction with mean 
 things. That is vulgar which is poor 
 of its kind. There is a kind of music 
 called rag-time, — vulgar music, with 
 catchy tunes — catchy to those who do 
 not know nor care for things better. 
 There are men satisfied with rag-time 
 music, with rag-time theatres, with 
 rag-time politics, rag-time knowledge, 
 rag-time religion. ^^It was my duty 
 to have loved the highest.^^ The high- 
 est of one man may be low for another, 
 but no one can afford to look down- 
 ward for his enjoyments. The cor- 
 rosion of vulgarity spreads everywhere. 
 Its poison enters every home. The bill- 
 boards of our cities bear evidence to it ; 
 our newspapers reek with it, our story 
 books are filled with it; we cannot 
 
44 
 
 THE CALL OF THE 
 
 keep it out of our churches or our col- 
 leges. The man who succeeds must 
 shun vulgarity^ To be satisfied with 
 poor things in one line will tarnish his 
 ideals in the direction of his best efforts* 
 One great source of failure in life is 
 satisfaction with mean things* It is 
 easier to be almost right than to be 
 right* It is less trying to wish than to 
 do* There are many things that glit- 
 ter as well as gold and which can be 
 had more cheaply* Illusion is always 
 in the market and can be had on easy 
 terms* Realities do not lie on the bar- 
 gain counters* Happiness is based on 
 reality* It must be earned before we 
 can come into its possession* 
 <L Happiness is not a state* It is the 
 accompaniment of action* It comes 
 from the exercise of natural functions^ 
 from doing, thinking, planning, fight- 
 ing, overcoming, loving* It is positive 
 and strengthening* It is the signal '' all 
 is well,'^ passed from one nerve cell to 
 another* It does not burn out as it 
 
 True 
 Happiness 
 
TWENTIETH CENTURY 45 
 
 glows* It makes room for more hap- 
 piness* Loving, too, is a positive word* 
 It is related to happiness as an impulse 
 to action* The love that does not work 
 itself out in helping acts as mere torture 
 of the mind* The primal impulse of 
 vice and sin is a short cut to happiness* 
 It promises pleasure without earning it* 
 And this pleasure is always an illusion. 
 Its final legacy is weakness and pain* 
 Pain is not a punishment, but a warn- 
 ing of harm done to the body* The 
 unearned pleasures provoke this warn- 
 ing* They leave a '^ dark brown taste 
 in the mouth.^^ Their recollection is 
 '^ different in the morning*^' Such pleas- 
 ures, Robert Burns who had tried 
 many of them says, are 'Mike poppies 
 spread,^' or ** like the snow-falls on the 
 river*^* But it is not true that they pass 
 and leave no trace* Their touch is 
 blasting* But true happiness leaves no 
 reaction* To do strengthens a man for 
 more doing; to love makes room for 
 more loving* 
 
46 
 
 THE CALL OF THE 
 
 Obscenity 
 
 Profanity 
 
 €L The second power of vulgarity is 
 obscenity, and this vice is like the pesti- 
 lence^ All inane vulgarity tends to be- 
 come obscene. From obscenity rather 
 than drink comes the helplessness of the 
 ordinary tramp. 
 
 €L Another form of vulgarity is pro- 
 fanity. The habit of swearing is not a 
 mark of manliness. It is the sign of a 
 dull, coarse, unrefined nature, a lack of 
 verbal initiative. Sometimes, perhaps, 
 profanity seems picturesque and effec- 
 tive. I have known it so in Arizona 
 once or twice, in old Mexico and per- 
 haps in Wyoming, but never in the 
 home, or the street, or the ordinary 
 affairs of life. It is not that blasphemy 
 is offensive to God. He is used to it, 
 perhaps, for he has met it under many 
 conditions. But it is offensive to man, 
 insulting to the atmosphere, and de- 
 structive of him who uses it. Profanity 
 and bluster are not signs of courage. 
 The bravest men are quiet of speech 
 and modest in demeanor. 
 
TWENTIETH CENTURY 
 
 47 
 
 C The man who is successful will not 
 be a dreamer. He will have but one 
 dream and that will work itself out as a 
 purpose. Dreaming wanes into senti- 
 mentalism, and sentimentalism is fatal 
 to action. The man of purpose says 
 no to all lesser calls, all minor oppor- 
 tunities. He does not abandon his col- 
 lege education because a hundred dollar 
 position is offered him outside. He does 
 not turn from one profession because 
 there is money in another. He has his 
 claim staked out, and with time he will 
 only fill in the detail of its boundaries. 
 C ** Now that you are through college, 
 what are you going to do?^^ asked a 
 friend of a wise young man. 
 C ^^I shall study medicine/^ was the 
 grave reply. 
 
 ^ ** But is n't that profession already 
 overcrowded ? '^ asked the friend. 
 fL '' Possibly it is/' said the youth, '' but 
 I purpose to study medicine all the same. 
 Those who are already in the profession 
 must take their chances.'' 
 
 Not to 
 Dream, 
 but to Do 
 
 A Wise 
 
 Young 
 
 Man 
 
48 
 
 THE CALL OF THE 
 
 The 
 Crowd 
 
 Ambition 
 
 " Let Him 
 Pass " 
 
 Success 
 Always 
 
 ^ In this joke of the newspapers there 
 is a sound philosophy* Men of pur- 
 pose never overcrowd. The crowd is 
 around the foot of the staircase waiting 
 for the elevator. 
 
 ^ The old traveller, Rafinesque, tells 
 us that when he was a boy he read the 
 voyages of Captain Cook, Le Vaillant, 
 Pallas, and Bougainville, and ** my soul 
 was fired to be a great traveller like 
 them, and so I became such,^' he adds 
 shortly. 
 
 4IL If you say to yourself : ^' I will be a 
 traveller, a statesman, an engineer;^' 
 if you never unsay it ; if you bend all 
 your powers in that direction; if you 
 take advantage of all helps that come in 
 your way and reject all that do not, you 
 will sometime reach your goal. For 
 the world turns aside to let any man 
 pass who knows whither he is going. 
 H *^ Why should we call ourselves 
 men,'' said Mirabeau, ^^ unless it be to 
 succeed in everything, everywhere. Say 
 of nothing : ^ This is beneath me,' nor 
 
TWENTIETH CENTURY 
 
 49 
 
 feel that anything is beyond your power, 
 for nothing is impossible to the man who 
 can will/^ 
 
 C Do not say that I am expecting too 
 much of the effects of a firm resolution, 
 that I give advice which would lead to 
 failure* For the man who will fail will 
 never take a resolution. Those among 
 you whom fate has cut out to be no- 
 bodies are the ones who will never try ! 
 <t Even harmless pleasures hurt if they 
 win you from your purpose. Lorimer's 
 old merchant writes to his son at Har- 
 vard: ^^You will meet fools enough 
 in the day without hunting up the main 
 herd at night /^ This plain business 
 man*s advice is worth every young 
 man's attention. 
 
 <L The Twentieth Century will ask for 
 men of instant decision, men whose 
 mental equipment is all in order, ready 
 to be used on the instant. Yes and no, 
 right and wrong, we must have them 
 labelled and ready to pack to go any- 
 where, to do anything at any time, or to 
 
 4 
 
 The Result 
 Sure 
 
 Plain 
 Advice 
 
 Instant 
 Service 
 
50 
 
 THE CALL OF THE 
 
 Hopeful- 
 ness 
 
 To-Day 
 
 know why we refuse to do it, if it is 
 something we will not do^ Ethelred the 
 Unready died helpless a thousand years 
 ago* The unready are still with us, but 
 the strenuous century will grant them 
 but short shift* 
 
 CL The man of the Twentieth Century 
 will be a hopeful man* He will love 
 the world and the world will love him. 
 *^ There is no hope for you/' Thoreau 
 once said, ^* unless this bit of sod under 
 your feet is the sweetest for you in the 
 world — in any world/' The effective 
 man takes his reward as he goes along. 
 Nowhere is the sky so blue, the grass 
 so green, the opportunities so choice as 
 now, here, to-day, the time, the place 
 where his work must be done. 
 C ^^ To-day is your day and mine/' I 
 have said on another occasion; ^' the only 
 day we have, the day in which we play 
 our part ; what our part may signify in 
 the great whole we may not understand, 
 but we are here to play it, and now is 
 the time. This we know : it is a part 
 
TWENTIETH CENTURY 
 
 51 
 
 of action, not of whining^ It is a part 
 of love, not cynicism. It is for us to 
 express love in terms of human 
 helpfulness/^ 
 
 C Whatever feeling is worthy and real 
 will express itself in action, and the glow 
 that surrounds worthy action we call 
 happiness. 
 
 <L He will be a loyal man, considering 
 always the best interests of him he 
 serves, ready to lay down his life, if 
 need be, for duty, ready to abandon 
 whatever conflicts with higher loyalty, 
 with higher duty. 
 
 ^ In the economic struggles of to-day, 
 well-meaning men are making two 
 huge mistakes, which in time wiU undo 
 whatever of good their efforts may ac- 
 complish. One of these is the struggle 
 against education, the effort to limit 
 the number of skilled laborers, and this 
 in a free country where each man^s 
 birthright is the development of his 
 skill. The other is the effort to destroy 
 the feeling of personal loyalty on the 
 
 Activity 
 
 and 
 
 Happiness 
 
 Loyalty 
 
 Two 
 Great 
 
 Mistakes 
 
52 
 
 THE CALL OF THE 
 
 part of the laborer* Half the value of 
 any man^s service lies in his willingness, 
 his devotion to the man or the work. 
 This old-fashioned virtue of loyalty 
 must not be cheapened* The man 
 whose service is worth paying for, gives 
 more than his labor. He believes that 
 what he does is right, and when any- 
 thing goes wrong he will turn in and 
 make it right. In the long run the 
 laborer can get no more than he de- 
 serves, and disloyal labor is paving the 
 way for its own subjugation. Unwil- 
 ling service is a form of slavery, and 
 unwilling employment is a slavery of 
 the employer. 
 
 ^ More than all this, the man in the 
 Twentieth Century needs must be a 
 man of character* It was said of 
 Abraham Lincoln that he was a man 
 ^^too simply great to scheme for his 
 proper self.^^ The man who schemes 
 for his own advancement soon forfeits 
 the support of others. He may lay 
 pipes and pull wires, seeming for a little 
 
 Character 
 
TWENTIETH CENTURY 53 
 
 to succeeds ''God consents, but only 
 for a time/^ Sooner or later, if he lives 
 to meet his fate, he finds his end in utter 
 failure. And this failure is final; for 
 those who have suffered will not help 
 him again. Even rats desert a sinking 
 ship. To be successful a man need 
 take no heed for his own particular 
 future. He will find his place in the 
 future of his work. 
 ^ In the ordinary business of life the Honesty 
 smart man has had his day. He gives 
 place to the man who can bring about Policy 
 results. Whatever the present menace 
 of trust and monoply, the business of 
 the future must be conducted on large 
 lines. The profits of the future will be 
 the legitimate reward of economy, or- 
 ganization, and boldness of conception. 
 To this end absolute honesty is essen- 
 tial to success. The merchant selling 
 poor goods at high prices, an article 
 which looks as good as the real thing 
 but is something else, must give place 
 to a larger system, with specialized ser- 
 
54 
 
 THE CALL OF THE 
 
 vice on a basis of absolute truthfulness. 
 Business of a large scale must finally 
 demand publicity and equity. Sooner 
 or later even monopolies must grant 
 this, whether we insist on it by statute 
 or not. It is necessary for their own 
 protection; for large structures cannot 
 long stand on insecure foundations. In 
 the long run trade is honest ; for dishon- 
 est trade cuts its own throat. 
 (L Above all, because including all, the 
 century will ask for men of sober mind. 
 The finest piece of mechanism in all the 
 universe is the brain of man and the 
 mind which is its manifestation. What 
 mind is, or how it is related to brain 
 cells, we cannot say, but this we know, 
 that as the brain is, so is the mind; 
 whatever injury comes to the one is 
 shown in the other. In this complex 
 structure, with its millions of connecting 
 cells, we are able to form images of the 
 external world, truthful so far as they 
 go, to retain these images, to compare 
 them, to infer relations of cause and 
 
 Moral 
 and 
 
 Physical 
 Vice 
 
TWENTIETH CENTURY 
 
 55 
 
 effect, to induce thought from sensation, 
 and to translate thought into action* In 
 proportion to the exactness of these op- 
 erations is the soundness, the effective- 
 ness of the man. The man is the 
 mind, and everything else is accessory* 
 The sober man is the one who protects 
 his brain from all that would do it 
 harm. Vice is our name for self-in- 
 flicted injury, and the purpose of vice is 
 to secure a temporary feeling of pleasure 
 through injury to the brain. Real hap- 
 piness does not come through vice. You 
 will know that which is genuine because 
 it makes room for more happiness. The 
 pleasures of vice are mere illusions, 
 tricks of the nervous system, and each 
 time these tricks are played it is more 
 and more difficult for the mind to tell the 
 truth. Such deceptions come through 
 drunkenness and narcotism. In greater 
 or less degree all nerve-affecting drugs 
 produce it; alcohol, nicotine, caffeine, 
 opium, cocaine, and the rest, strong or 
 weak. Habitual use of any of these is 
 
56 
 
 THE CALL OF THE 
 
 The 
 
 Functions 
 of the 
 Brain 
 
 a physical vice* A physical vice be- 
 comes a moral vice, and all vice leaves 
 its record on the nervous system* To 
 cultivate vice is to render the actual 
 machinery of our mind incapable of 
 normal action* 
 
 Cl It is the brain's business to perceive, 
 to think, to will, to act. All these func- 
 tions taken together we call the mind* 
 The brain is hidden in darkness, shel- 
 tered within a box of bone* All that it 
 knows comes to it from the nerves of 
 sense* All that it can do in this world 
 is to act on the muscles it controls 
 through its nerves of motion* The 
 final purpose of knowledge is action* 
 Our senses tell us what lies about us, 
 that we may move and act, and do this 
 wisely and safely* The sense-organs 
 are the brain's only teachers so far as 
 we know, the muscles are its only ser- 
 vants* But there are many orders which 
 may be issued to these servants* Out of 
 the many sensations, memories, imagi- 
 nations, how shall the brain choose? 
 
TWENTIETH CENTURY 57 
 
 The power of attention fixes the mind 
 on those sensations or impressions of 
 most worth, pushing the others into the 
 background Past impressions, memory- 
 pictures, linger in the brain, and these, 
 bidden or unbidden, crowd with the 
 others. To know the relation of all 
 these, to distinguish present impressions 
 from memories, realities from dreams, — 
 this is mental sanity. The sane brain 
 performs its appointed task. The mind 
 is clear, the will is strong, the attention 
 persistent, and all is well in the world. 
 But the machinery of the brain may fail. 
 The mind grows confused. It mistakes 
 memories for realities. It loses the power 
 of attention, A fixed idea may take pos- 
 session of it, or it may be filled by a 
 thousand vagrant impressions, wander- 
 ing memories, in as many seconds. In 
 this case the response of the muscles be- 
 comes uncertain. The acts are governed 
 not by the demands of external condi- 
 tions but by internal whims. This is 
 a condition of mania or mental irrespon- 
 
58 THE CALL OF THE 
 
 sibility. Some phase of mental un- 
 soundness is produced by any of the 
 drugs which affect the nerves, whether 
 stimulants or narcotics^ They may 
 help to borrow from our future store of 
 energy, but they borrow at compound 
 interest and never repay the loan. They 
 give an impression of joy, of rest, of ac- 
 tivity, without giving the fact ; one and 
 all, their function is to force the nervous 
 system to lie. Each indulgence in any 
 of them makes it harder to tell the truth. 
 One and all, their supposed pleasures 
 are followed by reactions, subjective 
 pains as unreal as the joys which they 
 follow. Each of them, if used persist- 
 ently, brings incapacity, insanity, and 
 death. With each of them use creates 
 appetite. To yield once it is easier to 
 yield again. The harm of some of 
 them is slight. Tea, coffee, beer, claret, 
 in moderate quantities, do but moderate 
 harm, but all of them are without other 
 effect on the nerves save to work them 
 injury. White lies at the best are false- 
 
TWENTIETH CENTURY 
 
 59 
 
 hoods. These are the white lies of 
 physiology. In regard to each of these, 
 the young man must count the cost. 
 Count all the cost and be prepared to 
 pay. The song of Ulrich von Htitten, 
 when he gave his life for religious free- 
 dom, is worth applying to all other 
 costly things. He sang: — 
 
 ^ * Ich habe gewagft mh Sinnen 
 Und tragfe des noch kein Reu.^ ^' 
 
 ** With open eyes have I dared it, and 
 cherish no regret.^^ 
 
 €L For all indulgence in wine and coffee 
 and tobacco you will have a bill to pay. 
 Perhaps not a heavy bill. The indul- 
 gence may be worth the while, but if 
 so, find out for yourself beforehand 
 whether others have found it so. If 
 you dare, dare with open eyes and cher- 
 ish no regrets. For regret is the most 
 profitless thing to cherish. There is 
 nothing more distressing than remorse 
 without will. The only hope in the 
 world is to stop, and by the time that 
 
 The Cost 
 
 of 
 
 Indulgence 
 
60 
 
 THE CALL OF THE 
 
 One Kind 
 of Joy 
 
 Real 
 Pleasures 
 
 The 
 Point of 
 View 
 
 the inebriate comes to realize where he 
 is^ it is too late to stop. 
 €L ^' There is joy in life/^ says Sulli- 
 van, the pugilist, '^ but it is known only 
 to the man who has a few jolts of liquor 
 under his belt/^ To know this kind of 
 joy is to put one^s self beyond the reach 
 of all others. 
 
 €L The joy of the blue sky, the bright 
 sunshine, the rushing torrent, the songs 
 of birds, ^* sweet as children's prattle is,'' 
 the breath of the meadows, the glow of 
 effort, the beauty of poetry, the achieve- 
 ment of thought, the thousand and thou- 
 sand real pleasures of life, are inaccessible 
 to him ^' who has a few jolts of liquor 
 under his belt," while the sorrows he 
 feels, or thinks he feels, are as unreal as 
 his joys, and as unworthy of a life 
 worth living. 
 
 €L There was once, I am told, a man 
 who came into his office smacking his 
 lips, and said to his clerk, ** The world 
 looks very different to the man who has 
 had a good glass of brandy and soda in 
 
TWENTIETH CENTURY 61 
 
 the morning/' ^^Yes/' said the clerk^ 
 '^and the man looks different to the 
 world/' 
 
 €L And this is natural and inevitable^ 
 for the pleasure which exists only in the 
 imagination leads to action which has 
 likewise nothing to do with the demands 
 of life* The mind is confused, and 
 may be delighted with the confusion, 
 but the confused muscles tremble and 
 halt. The tongue is loosened and ut- 
 ters unfinished sentences; the hand is 
 loosened and the handwriting is shaky ; 
 the muscles of the eyes are unharnessed, 
 and the two eyes move independently 
 and see double; the legs are loosened, and 
 the confusion of the brain shows itself 
 in the confused walk. And if this con- 
 fusion is long continued, the mental 
 deterioration shows itself in external 
 things, — the shabby hat and seedy cloth- 
 ing, and the gradual drop of the man 
 from stratum to stratum of society, till 
 he brings up some night in the ditch. 
 As the world looks more and more 
 
 Rapid 
 Deteriora- 
 tion 
 
62 
 
 THE CALL OF THE 
 
 Total 
 Abstinence 
 
 different to him, so does he look more 
 and more different to the world* 
 CA prominent lawyer of Boston once 
 told me that the great impulse to total 
 abstinence came to him when a young 
 man, from hearing his fellow lawyers 
 talking over their cups* The most vital 
 secrets of their clients^ business were 
 made public property when their tongues 
 were loosened by wine; and this led 
 him to the firm resolution that nothing 
 should go into his mouth which would 
 prevent him from keeping it closed un- 
 less he wanted to open it* The time 
 will come when the only opening for 
 the ambitious man of intemperate habits 
 will be in politics* It is rapidly becom- 
 ing so now* Private employers dare 
 not trust their business to the man who 
 drinks* The great corporations dare 
 not* He is not wanted on the railroads* 
 The steamship lines have long since 
 cast him off* The banks dare not use 
 him* He cannot keep accounts* Only 
 the people, long-suffering and generous, 
 
TWENTIETH CENTURY 
 
 63 
 
 remain as his resource* For this rea- 
 son municipal government is his spe- 
 cialty; and while this patience of the 
 people lasts^ our cities will breed scandals 
 as naturally as our swamps breed ma- 
 laria* Already the business of the cen- 
 tury recognizes the truth of all this* The 
 bonding companies ask, before they sign 
 a contract, whether the official in question 
 uses liquor, what kind of liquor, whether 
 he smokes, gambles, or in other ways 
 so conducts himself that in five years he 
 will be less of a man than he is now* 
 CL The great corporations ask the same 
 questions as to all their employees* Even 
 these organizations called '^ soulless ^^ 
 know the value of men, and that the 
 vices of to-day must be reckoned at 
 compound interest and charged against 
 their estimate of the young man^s future* 
 The Twentieth Century must be tem- 
 perate; for only sober men can bear the 
 strain of its enterprises* 
 C Equally dangerous is the search for 
 the joys of love by those who would 
 
 Great 
 Corpora- 
 tions and 
 their 
 Employees 
 
 True Love 
 and False 
 
64 
 
 THE CALL OF THE 
 
 shirk all lovers responsibilities. Just as 
 honest love is the most powerful influ- 
 ence that can enter into a man's life, so 
 is love's counterfeit the most disintegrat- 
 ing. Happiness cannot spring from the 
 ashes of lust. Love looks toward the 
 future. Its glory is its altruism. To 
 shirk responsibility is to destroy the 
 home. The equal marriage demands 
 equal purity of heart, equal chastity of 
 intention. Open vice brings with cer- 
 tainty disease and degradation. Secret 
 lust comes to the same end, but all the 
 more surely because the folly of lying is 
 added to other sources of decay. That 
 society is so severe in its condemnation 
 of ^'the double life'' is an expression of 
 the bitterness of its experience* The 
 real character of a man is measured by 
 the truth he shows to women. His 
 ideal of womankind is gauged by the 
 character of the woman he seeks. 
 Weakness ^ In general, the sinner is not the man 
 o^D^^^l- who sets out in life to be wicked. Few 
 dation men are born wicked ; many are bom 
 
TWENTIETH CENTURY 
 
 65 
 
 weak. False ideas of manliness; 
 
 false conceptions of good fellowship^ 
 
 which false ideas of the relationship of 
 
 men and women givCf wreck many a 
 
 young man of otherwise good intentions. 
 
 The sinner is the man who cannot say 
 
 no. The fall through vice to sin is a 
 
 matter of slow transition. One virtue 
 
 after another is yielded up as the strain 
 
 on the will becomes too great. In Kip- 
 
 ling^s fable of Parenness, the demon 
 
 appears before the clerk in the Indian 
 
 service, who has been too long a good 
 
 fellow among the boys. It asks him to 
 
 surrender three things in succession : his 
 
 trust in man, his faith in woman, then 
 
 the hopes and ambitions of his childhood. 
 
 When these are given up, as they must 
 
 be in the life of dissipation, the demon 
 
 leaves him in exchange a little crust of 
 
 dry bread. Bare existence without joy 
 
 or hope is all that the demon can give 
 
 when the forces of life are burned out. 
 
 CL In our colleges, the one ethical prin- Keeping in 
 
 dple kept before the athlete by his asso- draining 
 
 5 
 
66 THE CALL OF THE 
 
 dates is this: Never break training 
 rules. The pitcher who smokes a cig- 
 arette throws away his game. The 
 punter who spends the night at a dance 
 loses his one chance of making a goaL 
 The sprinter who takes the glass of 
 convivial beer breaks no record* His 
 record breaks him. Some day we shall 
 realize that the game of life is more than 
 the game of foot-balL We have work 
 every day more intricate than pitching 
 curves, more strenuous than punting the 
 ball. We must keep in trim for it. 
 We must hold ourselves in repair. We 
 must remember training rules. When 
 this is done, we shall win not only games 
 and races, but the great prizes of life. 
 Almost half the strength of the men of 
 America is now wasted in dissipation, 
 gross or petty, in drink or smoke. 
 This strength would be saved could we 
 remember training rules. Through the 
 training rules of our fathers we have 
 come to consider as part of our in- 
 heritance the Puritan Conscience. As 
 
TWENTIETH CENTURY 
 
 67 
 
 An 
 
 Example 
 from Life 
 
 the success of our nation is built upon 
 this conscience, so in like fashion de- 
 pends upon it the success of our daily 
 life. 
 
 CI had a friend once, a mining man of 
 some education, who made his fortune 
 in bonanza days in Nevada, and who 
 drank up what he had made with the 
 boys who have long since passed away* 
 As a hopeless sot he visited the gold 
 cure at Los Gatos* Not finding much 
 relief, he walked over to Palo Alto to 
 borrow of me his fare to San Francisco. 
 He said that he was going to pawn his 
 goods for a fare to Nevada, where he 
 meant to kill himself. Whether he did so 
 or not, I do not know ; for ten years 
 have gone by and I have never heard 
 of him again. 
 
 <lAs he sat in my room, haggard, 
 bloodshot, ragged, gin-flavored, a little 
 boy who had then never known sin, 
 came in, and being no respecter of 
 persons, took him for a man and offered 
 him his hand. 
 
 The 
 Confidence 
 of a Child 
 
68 
 
 THE CALL OF THE 
 
 A 
 
 Moment's 
 
 Awakening 
 
 T!ie 
 
 Iniquity of 
 the Fathers 
 
 CL Being taken for a man, brought him 
 back his manhood for a moment* The 
 visions of evil left him, and from 
 Dickens^ poem of '^ The Children ^* he 
 repeated almost to himself these 
 words : — 
 
 ** * I know now how Jesus could Iikcn 
 The Kingdom of God to a child/ ** 
 
 The old scene came back to him. 
 When the Master was teaching, the 
 children crowded about him, and there 
 were those who would send them away. 
 But the Master said, '' No, let the little 
 children come unto me, and do not for- 
 bid them; for of such is the Kingdom 
 of Heaven/^ And again he said, ** The 
 Kingdom of Heaven is within you/^ 
 And again those whose services the 
 Lord of the centuries could use, he 
 likened to little children. 
 C^ And of the many ways in which this 
 likeness can be used this is one. The 
 child is born with brain and nervous 
 system adequate to its many purposes in 
 
TWENTIETH CENTURY 
 
 69 
 
 life, if it is suffered to grow naturally, 
 to become what God meant it to be* 
 There are not many children of sin not 
 made so by vice, intemperance, lust, and 
 obscenity* They are victims of their 
 elders^ folly, of our carelessness as to 
 their environment* Half the troubles of 
 men of our race come through self-in- 
 flicted injury to the nervous system* 
 We are tormented by the ** fooI-killer*^^ 
 K we could revert to the child^s simple 
 purity, the free movement of its ma- 
 chinery of life, we should find ourselves 
 in a new heaven on a new earth* We 
 could understand for ourselves part of 
 what the Master meant* We should 
 know now how Jesus could liken the 
 Kingdom of God to a child* 
 €L All forms of subjective enjoyment, 
 all pleasures that begin and end with 
 self, unrelated to external things, are 
 insane and unwholesome, destructive 
 alike to rational enjoyment and to effec- 
 tiveness in life* And this is true of 
 spurious emotions alike, whether the 
 
 Subjective 
 Enjoyment 
 
70 
 
 THE CALL OF THE 
 
 The 
 
 Mental 
 
 Attitude 
 
 A Living 
 Truth 
 
 An Appeal 
 to Young 
 Men 
 
 pious ecstasies of a half-starved monk, 
 the neurotic imaginings of a sentimental 
 woman, or the riots of a debauchee* 
 He is the wise man who for all his 
 life can keep mind and soul and body- 
 clean* 
 
 €L ^^ I know of no more encouraging 
 fact/' says Thoreau, ^* than the ability 
 of a man to elevate his life by conscious 
 endeavor* It is something to paint a 
 particular picture, or to carve a statue, 
 and so make a few objects beautiful* 
 It is far more glorious to carve and 
 paint the very atmosphere and medium 
 through which we look* This morally 
 we can do*'' 
 
 CL If it were ever my fortune in speak- 
 ing to young men to become eloquent, 
 with the only real eloquence there is, 
 the plain speaking of a living truth, this 
 I would say : — 
 
 €L Your first duty in life is toward your 
 afterself * So live that your afterself — 
 the man you ought to be — may in his 
 time be possible and actual* Far away 
 
TWENTIETH CENTURY 71 
 
 in the twenties, the thirties, of the Twen- 
 tieth Century he is awaiting his turn. 
 His body, his brain, his soul are in your 
 boyish hands. He cannot help himself. 
 What will you leave for him ? Will it 
 be a brain unspoiled by lust or dissipa- 
 tion, a mind trained to think and act, a 
 nervous system true as a dial in its re- 
 sponse to the truth about you? Will 
 you, boy of the Twentieth Century, let 
 him come as a man among men in his 
 time, or will you throw away his in- 
 heritance before he has had the chance 
 to touch it? Will you turn over to him 
 a brain distorted, a mind diseased, a 
 will untrained to action, a spinal cord . 
 grown through and through with the 
 devil grass of that vile harvest we call 
 wild oats? Will you let him come, 
 taking your place, gaining through your 
 experiences, hallowed through your joys, 
 building on them his own, or will you 
 fling his hope away, decreeing wanton- 
 like that the man you might have been 
 shall never be ? 
 
Lesson 
 
 74 THE CALL OF THE 
 
 A Bit of fL Whittier tells us the story of the day 
 History .^ Connecticut in 1780^ when the horror 
 of great darkness came over the land, 
 and all men believed that the dreaded 
 Day of Judgment had come at last* 
 and its ^ T7he legislature of Connecticut, ^Mim 
 as ghosts'^ in the old State House, 
 wished to adjourn to put themselves in 
 condition for the great assizes* Mean- 
 while Abraham Davenport, representa- 
 tive from Stamford, rose to say : — 
 
 ** * This well may be 
 The Day of Judgment which the world 
 
 awaits ; 
 But be it so or not, I only know 
 My present duty and my Lord's command 
 To occupy till He come* 
 So at the post where He hath set me in His 
 
 Providence 
 I choose for one to meet Him face to face. 
 Let God do His work. Wc will see to ours.' '' 
 
 Then he took up a discussion of an act 
 relating to the fisheries of alewife and 
 shad, speaking to men who found them 
 obliged to stand by their duty, though 
 
TWENTIETH CENTURY 75 
 
 never expecting to see shad, or alewife, 
 or even Connecticut again. 
 
 ^ Glad did I live and gladly die, 
 And I lay me down with a will.^ 
 
 This was Stevenson's word. *^ Let God 
 do His work; we will see to ours/' 
 And in whatever part of God's King- 
 dom we men of the Twentieth Century 
 may find ourselves, we shall know that 
 we are at home. For the same hand 
 that made the world and the ages 
 created also the men in whose hands 
 the final outcome of the wayward cen- 
 turies finds its place within the Kingdom 
 of Heaven. 
 
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