Helping the Community

PUBLISHED IN THE “CENTURY,” OCTOBER, 1900

PUBLISHED IN “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.

In Mr. Lecky’s deeply thought-provoking book, “The Map of Life,” which I mentioned in an earlier article, he describes a gradual change in the world’s religious outlook. People are placing more importance on conduct than on dogma. In this country, we have long since stopped treating the enforcement of a particular religious dogma as a duty of the State. Increasingly, followers of different creeds are themselves beginning to acknowledge, without saying so openly, that a creed’s chief value depends on the conduct it demands of its followers toward others. Each person alone must decide what creed he believes in his heart is essential to his own salvation. But we have a right to judge his actions toward those around 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.

Judged by this standard, the community’s religious teachers rank honorably high. Probably no other group of citizens does nearly as much selfless work for others. To those who work closely with them, this statement will seem so obvious as to be a platitude. But a sizable part of the public seems unaware of this fact. At least, that is what their favorite speeches, writings, and jokes suggest. If such people would take the trouble to follow the daily life of a hard-working minister or priest, I think they would become a little ashamed. They would be ashamed of the flippant tone they so often use 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 rural areas, the minister of the gospel is normally a companion and leader to his congregation. He knows its members personally. He shares in and partly guides their intellectual and moral life, and responds to their spiritual needs. If they prosper, he prospers. If the community is poor and hard-working, he shares its poverty and works as hard as anyone. One such country minister is among the finest people I can remember. He serves a poor farming community not far from the capital of the State of New York. He is a vigorous old man who works on his farm six days a week. On the seventh, he preaches what he himself has been practicing. Farm work does not take up all his weekdays, for he neglects none of his parishioners’ spiritual needs. He visits them, looks after them when they are sick, baptizes their children, and comforts those who are grieving. He is also ready with shrewd advice for those who need help. In short, he shows himself every day to be a thoroughly sincere, earnest, hard-working old Christian. This is perhaps the healthiest type of minister. He fits his surroundings, for self-reliance is highly developed in rural areas. There is little need for large organized charities. Neighbors know one another. The poorest and the richest are more or less in contact. Their charitable feelings find natural, simple expression in everyday acts of kindness. This does not mean there is no room for a great deal of work in rural communities, villages, and small towns. Now and then, traveling around the State, one comes across a public library, a Young Men’s Christian Association building, or some similar structure. A man born there has paid for it after making his money elsewhere. He wants to leave a memorial in his old home. Such a gift has benefits that reach far. Almost better is the work of men and women who join together to create circulating libraries and similar services. They clearly understand the intellectual needs of people living far from the great centers of our rather feverish modern civilization. In rural life, people must guard not against mental fever, but against a lack of mental stimulation 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.

In cities, conditions are very different, both in what people need and in how those needs can be met. There is much less sense of a shared interest, and widespread material poverty is painfully visible. Some districts are overcrowded, and hardly anyone there lives above the poverty level. But this poverty does not always mean misery. Where it does, it must be met through organization. Above all, it requires the selfless, tireless work of those who choose to live among the poor to do good. They may live there temporarily or permanently. Very many men and women spend part of their lives or do part of their life’s work in such circumstances. Clergymen and priests are especially prominent among them.

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.

Only those who have seen such work up close realize how much of it goes on quietly, without any outward show. They also realize how much it means to people whose lives would otherwise be spent in bleak squalor. There is no need to name people who are still living. Otherwise, I could name fifty ministers and priests among my personal acquaintances. They belong to every church and have every degree of wealth. Each of them cheerfully and quietly does his share, and more, of this endless work, year after year. Each feels the work is required of him by Christianity and by what we call good citizenship, a form of Christianity put into practice. I could name far more women, both inside and outside religious organizations, who do just as much work. Of course, for every person named, there would be a hundred, or many hundreds, left unnamed. Perhaps there is no harm in mentioning one man who has died. Very early in my career as a New York City police commissioner, I met Father Casserly of the Paulist Fathers. He became convinced that I was truly trying to make the department decent and ensure that law and order prevailed. He also saw that I was trying to fight crime and vice in practical ways. After that, he became a close friend and helped me in every way. Without realizing it, he also gave me insight into his own work and character. Again and again, I came across examples of Father Casserly's work. Each showed his deep human sympathy and interest in the lives of those around him. If a family's boy was wild, Father Casserly planned ways to help him become more responsible. If, on the other hand, a responsible boy suffered some misfortune, such as losing his job, Father Casserly would explain the facts to the employer. The Paulist Fathers had always been among the most effective opponents of abuses in the liquor trade. They never hesitated to intervene in matters involving saloons, dance halls, and similar places. One reason they had influence with our Police Board was that they knew all their people. The fathers were always visiting them and had no personal interests at stake. So we could trust them to tell us which law enforcement officers did right and which did wrong. One difficulty in dealing with police officers is that they are always in conflict with criminals and would-be criminals. These people are sure to lie about the officers. So it is almost impossible to tell when accusations against officers are true or false. A good officer who does his duty is certain to have scoundrels for enemies. Yet there is usually no other evidence against a bad officer who blackmails those same scoundrels. But Father Casserly and the rest of his order knew the officers personally. We found we could trust them completely to tell us exactly which officers were good and which were not. Whether an officer was Protestant, Catholic, or Jewish, they would report him as faithful if he served the public well. If he did not, they would report that too, without any regard for his faith. We had the same experience with an honorably large number of priests and ministers. Once, in the same group of sergeants promoted to captain, there was a Protestant whom Fathers Casserly and Doyle had earnestly praised to us. There was also a Catholic whom Bishop Potter had first brought to our attention by speaking in his support.

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.

Clergymen helped our Police Board in other ways, too. At one point, we wanted to recruit plenty of strong, honest young men for the police force. We did not want to draw them from the usual ranks of ward heelers, the local political operatives. Two excellent recruiting grounds proved to be a Catholic church and a Methodist church. Dr. Wall, the rector of the Catholic church, ran a temperance lyceum for the young men of his parish. The Methodist pastor’s congregation came from a small, long-established American community that the growing city had suddenly spread into. Its wheelwrights, ship carpenters, baymen, and coastal sailors made the same good kind of officer as Dr. Wall’s recruits. Those recruits included mechanics, motormen, and blacksmiths from his lyceum. Another close friend was a Methodist preacher who had once been a reporter. He had felt an irresistible urge to leave his profession and devote his life to the East Side. There he served the needs of people who would not go to the fashionable churches. No other church was especially prepared to serve them. One especially pleasing part of his work was the way he cooperated with others. He joined the other Protestant clergy and the district’s nonsectarian charity workers, as well as the Catholic clergy. Together, they fought the seething evils of the slum. One of his Catholic allies, a certain Brother A., was doing an immense amount for the Italian children of his parish. He had a large parochial school that had originally served the children of Irish parents. Gradually, the Irish had moved uptown, and the Italians had taken their place. His life’s work was to help these little Italians through the first painful steps 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.

Let me also call to mind an institution in Albany, not New York. There, the sisters of a religious organization devote their entire lives to helping girls who have stumbled. Without help, these girls would sink into the darkest mire and be trampled underfoot. The sisters also help girls whose surroundings would surely cause them to stumble if no one reached out in time. This work is infinitely important, both to the state and to each individual. Yet it must be a labor of love if it is to succeed. Most men and women lack the time, opportunity, or moral and mental qualities needed to succeed at it. That is true even among those who recognize the need for this work and are not wholly deaf to the demands of brotherly love for humanity. For very many people, their sheer distaste for the work would keep them from doing it well. It holds no attraction except for those who are completely earnest and unselfish. It brings no reputation, not even notoriety. Surely people who recognize that this work should be done should feel profound gratitude to those who have undertaken it with wholehearted sincerity. That is especially true if they also realize how exceedingly distasteful they would find the work themselves. They should support these workers in every way. This particular institution is managed by people of a faith other than my own. But few things gave me greater pleasure than signing a bill that increased its power and usefulness. It is vitally necessary to help these poor, hunted creatures return to womanliness and wholesome living. Compared with that need, it matters very little which faith guides them along those paths.

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.

Without a doubt, the best charity helps people who are willing and able to help themselves. At its core, this kind of help is simply what we should all be giving and receiving all the time. Everyone in the country should value the ability to help themselves above almost every other quality. Yet everyone will sometimes desperately need help from others. And everyone will sometimes find that they can help even the strongest people in return. The ability to help yourself is such a wonderful quality that nothing can make up for losing it. Yet, like every virtue, it can be twisted into a fault. It becomes a fault when it turns into coldhearted arrogance. Then a person may fail to understand that even the strongest sometimes need help. For this reason alone, if for no other, the strong should always welcome the chance to help the weak in return.

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.

The Young Men’s Christian Associations and the Young Women’s Christian Associations have now spread across the country. They are invaluable because they can reach everyone. I have certainly benefited from them myself. I have often used them as clubs or reading rooms when visiting cities where I knew few or no people. The associations help develop the good qualities of their members. They also do something even more valuable: they give men and women the chance to develop those qualities themselves. Most associations provide reading rooms and gyms. These give men and women a way to spend their leisure time learning or enjoying themselves, as they choose. The average person will not spend time outside work doing something unpleasant. The only way to draw average men and women away from activities and amusements unhealthy for body or soul is to provide an alternative they will accept. And that is the only way to draw them away for good. To forbid all amusements, or to treat innocent and harmful amusements as equally bad, simply ensures that more people will turn to harmful ones. The Young Men’s and Young Women’s Christian Associations would have proved their value a hundred times over if they had done nothing more than provide reading rooms and gyms. They also provide safe places to go, especially after dark, for those without homes or without attractive homes. The associations provide meeting places for many young men who might otherwise be driven to the saloon. If not there, they might go to a cigar store or another place to hang out. In such places, the conversation would not be uplifting at best. At worst, they might form friendships that could lead to future disaster. In addition, the associations offer every opportunity for self-improvement to those who wish to take advantage of it. An astonishing number do.

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 mentioned earlier some of the sources from which we sometimes recruited policemen while managing the New York Police Department. Several came from Young Men’s Christian Associations. I particularly remember one man we recruited from the Bowery Branch of the Young Men’s Christian Association. I visited the branch one night, and the secretary told me about a young man there. He had just rescued a woman from a burning building, showing great strength, composure, and courage. The story interested me, and I asked the secretary to send for him. When the young man arrived, I learned that he was a Jew, Otto R--. He had come from Russia with his family when he was very young, during one of that country’s waves of persecution. He was clearly the right physical type for the job. He had also been studying in the association’s classes for some time, so he was mentally fit too. His rescue at the fire showed that he had good moral qualities. We were holding examinations in a few days, and I told him to take them. Sure enough, he passed and was appointed. He became one of the best policemen we hired. His appointment tripled his salary and gave him a great leap in social standing. As a result, he could support his mother and elderly grandmother in comfort and help his younger brothers and sisters get started in life. He was already a good son and brother, so it was no surprise that he became 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.

I have not discussed the work of state charitable institutions or the people paid to do charitable work, whether as officials or in other roles. But fairness demands that I point out why the great majority of these paid workers entered the field. They did so for the work itself, not for the money. Even so, they must be paid for their services because they depend on their own work for a living.

There is one class of public servants, however, not employed directly as philanthropic agents, whose work, nevertheless, is as truly philanthropic in character as that of any man or woman existing. I allude to the public-school teachers whose schools lie in the poorer quarters of the city. In dealing with any body of men and women general statements must be made cautiously, and it must always be understood that there are numerous exceptions. Speaking generally, however, the women teachers—I mention these because they are more numerous than the men—who carry on their work in the poorer districts of the great cities form as high-principled and useful a body of citizens as is to be found in the entire community, and render an amount of service which can hardly be paralleled by that of any other equal number of men or women. Most women who lead lives actively devoted to intelligent work for others grow to have a certain look of serene and high purpose which stamps them at once. This look is generally seen, for instance, among the higher types of women doctors, trained nurses, and of those who devote their lives to work among the poor; and it is precisely this look which one so often sees on the faces of those public-school teachers who have grown to regard the welfare of their pupils as the vital interest of their own lives. It is not merely the regular day-work the school-teachers do, but the amount of attention they pay outside their regular classes; the influence they have in shaping the lives of the boys, and perhaps even more of the girls, brought in contact with them; the care they take of the younger, and the way they unconsciously hold up ideals to the elder boys and girls, to whom they often represent the most tangible embodiment of what is best in American life. They are a great force for producing good citizenship. Above all things, they represent the most potent power in Americanizing as well as in humanizing the children of the newcomers of every grade who arrive here from Europe. Where the immigrant parents are able to make their way in the world, their children have no more difficulty than the children of the native-born in becoming part of American life, in sharing all its privileges and in doing all its duties. But the children of the very poor of foreign birth would be handicapped almost as much as their parents, were it not for the public schools and the start thus given them. Loyalty to the flag is taught by precept and practice in all these public schools, and loyalty to the principles of good citizenship is also taught in no merely perfunctory manner.

There is one group of public servants whose work is truly philanthropic, though they are not employed directly as philanthropic workers. Their work is as philanthropic as that of any man or woman alive. I mean the public school teachers who work in the poorer parts of the city. We must be careful when making general statements about any group of men and women. We must always understand that there are many exceptions. Generally speaking, however, the women who teach in the poorer districts of great cities are among the most principled and useful citizens in the whole community. I mention women because there are more of them than men. They provide a level of service that can hardly be matched by an equal number of other men or women. Most women who actively devote their lives to thoughtful work for others develop a certain look of calm and noble purpose. It marks them immediately. This look is generally seen, for example, among the finest women doctors, trained nurses, and women who devote their lives to working among the poor. It is precisely the look one so often sees on the faces of public school teachers who have come to make their pupils' welfare the central concern of their own lives. These teachers do more than their regular daily work. They also give considerable attention to their pupils outside regular classes. They help shape the lives of the boys they teach, and perhaps even more so the girls. They care for the younger children and unconsciously set ideals for the older boys and girls. To these older pupils, the teachers often represent the clearest living example of what is best in American life. The teachers are a great force for developing good citizenship. Above all, they are the most powerful force for Americanizing and humanizing the children of newcomers of every class who arrive here from Europe. When immigrant parents are able to make their way in the world, their children become part of American life no less easily than the children of native-born parents. They share all its privileges and carry out all its duties. But the children of the very poor who were born abroad would face almost as many disadvantages as their parents, if not for public schools and the start those schools give them. All these public schools teach loyalty to the flag by instruction and example. They also teach loyalty to the principles of good citizenship, and not merely as a matter of routine.

Here I hardly touch upon the “little red schoolhouse” out in the country districts simply because in the country districts all of our children go to the same schools, and thereby get an inestimable knowledge of the solidarity of our American life. I have touched on this in a former article, and I can here only say that it would be impossible to overestimate the good done by the association this engenders, and the excellent educational work of the teachers. We always feel that we have given our children no small advantage by the mere fact of allowing them to go to these little district schools, where they all have the same treatment and are all tried by the same standard. But with us in the country the district school is only philanthropic in that excellent sense in which all joint effort for the common good is philanthropic.

I barely touch on the “little red schoolhouse” in rural districts here. That is simply because all our children in the country go to the same schools. As a result, they gain an invaluable understanding of the unity of American life. I discussed this in an earlier article. Here I can only say that it is impossible to overestimate the good done by these children learning together. Nor can we overestimate the excellent educational work of the teachers. We always feel that we have given our children a significant advantage simply by letting them attend these small district schools. There, they all receive the same treatment and are judged by the same standard. But for us in the country, the district school is philanthropic only in the excellent sense that all joint effort for the common good is philanthropic.

A very wholesome effect has been produced in great cities by the university settlements, college settlements, and similar efforts to do practical good by bringing closer together the more and the less fortunate in life. It is no easy task to make movements of this kind succeed. If managed in a spirit of patronizing condescension, or with ignorance of the desires, needs, and passions of those round about, little good indeed will come from them. The fact that, instead of little, much good does in reality result, is due to the entirely practical methods and the spirit of comradeship shown by those foremost in these organizations. One particularly good feature has been their tendency to get into politics. Of course this has its drawbacks, but they are outweighed by the advantages. Clean politics is simply one form of applied good citizenship. No man can be a really good citizen unless he takes a lively interest in politics from a high standpoint. Moreover, the minute that a move is made in politics, the people who are helped and those who would help them grow to have a common interest which is genuine and absorbing instead of being in any degree artificial, and this will bring them together as nothing else would. Part of the good that results from such community of feeling is precisely like the good that results from the community of feeling about a club, football team, or baseball nine. This in itself has a good side; but there is an even better side, due to the fact that disinterested motives are appealed to, and that men are made to feel that they are working for others, for the community as a whole as well as for themselves.

University settlements, college settlements, and similar efforts have done much good in great cities. They bring together people who are more fortunate and those who are less fortunate. It is not easy to make such efforts succeed. If they are run with a patronizing attitude, they will do little good. The same is true if their leaders do not understand the desires, needs, and passions of their neighbors. In fact, these efforts do much good. That is because their leaders use practical methods and show a spirit of fellowship. One especially good feature of these organizations has been their tendency to get involved in politics. Of course, this has drawbacks, but the advantages outweigh them. Honest politics is simply one form of good citizenship put into practice. No one can be a truly good citizen without taking an active interest in politics guided by high principles. Moreover, as soon as people become involved in politics, those who are helped and those who would help them develop a common interest. That interest is genuine and absorbing, not at all artificial. It brings them together as nothing else could. Part of the good that comes from this shared feeling is just like the good that comes from sharing an interest in a club, football team, or baseball team. That is good in itself. But there is an even better side. Politics appeals to unselfish motives and makes people feel they are working for others. They work for the whole community as well as for themselves.

There remain the host of philanthropic workers who can not be classed in any of the above-mentioned classes. They do most good when they are in touch with some organization, although, in addition, the strongest will keep some of their leisure time for work on individual lines to meet the cases where no organized relief will accomplish anything. Philanthropy has undoubtedly been a good deal discredited both by the exceedingly noxious individuals who go into it with ostentation to make a reputation, and by the only less noxious persons who are foolish and indiscriminate givers. Anything that encourages pauperism, anything that relaxes the manly fibre and lowers self-respect, is an unmixed evil. The soup-kitchen style of philanthropy is as thoroughly demoralizing as most forms of vice or oppression, and it is of course particularly revolting when some corporation or private individual undertakes it, not even in a spirit of foolish charity, but for purposes of self-advertisement. In a time of sudden and widespread disaster, caused by a flood, a blizzard, an earthquake, or an epidemic, there may be ample reason for the extension of charity on the largest scale to every one who needs it. But these conditions are wholly exceptional, and the methods of relief employed to meet them must also be treated as wholly exceptional. In charity the one thing always to be remembered is that, while any man may slip and should at once be helped to rise to his feet, yet no man can be carried with advantage either to him or to the community. The greatest possible good can be done by the extension of a helping hand at the right moment, but the attempt to carry any one permanently can end in nothing but harm. The really hard-working philanthropists, who spend their lives in doing good to their neighbors, do not, as a rule, belong to the “mushy” class, and thoroughly realize the unwisdom of foolish and indiscriminate giving, or of wild and crude plans of social reformations. The young enthusiast who is for the first time brought into contact with the terrible suffering and stunting degradation which are so evident in many parts of our great cities is apt to become so appalled as to lose his head. If there is a twist in his moral or mental make-up, he will never regain his poise; but if he is sound and healthy he will soon realize that things being bad affords no justification for making them infinitely worse, and that the only safe rule is for each man to strive to do his duty in a spirit of sanity and wholesome common-sense. No one of us can make the world move on very far, but it moves at all only when each one of a very large number does his duty.

There are also many philanthropic workers who do not fit into any of the categories mentioned above. They do the most good when they work with an organization. But the most capable also set aside some of their free time to help individuals in cases where organized relief cannot accomplish anything. Philanthropy has undoubtedly been discredited to a considerable extent by extremely harmful people who pursue it publicly to make a name for themselves. It has also been discredited by those who give foolishly and indiscriminately, and are only slightly less harmful. Anything that encourages dependence on charity, weakens manly character, or lowers self-respect is an unqualified evil. Soup-kitchen charity is just as demoralizing as most forms of vice or oppression. It is especially revolting when a corporation or private individual undertakes it for publicity, rather than even out of foolish generosity. When a flood, blizzard, earthquake, or epidemic causes sudden and widespread disaster, there may be ample reason to give charity on the largest scale to everyone who needs it. But these conditions are entirely exceptional. The relief methods used to meet them must also be treated as entirely exceptional. In charity, one thing must always be remembered: any man may stumble and should be helped up at once. But no man can be carried without harm to himself or the community. Offering a helping hand at the right moment can do the greatest possible good. But trying to carry someone permanently can end only in harm. The truly hard-working philanthropists who spend their lives helping their neighbors do not, as a rule, belong to the “mushy” class. They fully understand the folly of giving foolishly and indiscriminately, or of proposing wild and crude plans for social reform. A young enthusiast may encounter the terrible suffering and degrading conditions that stunt lives in many parts of our great cities. At first, he is likely to be so appalled that he loses his head. If there is a flaw in his moral or mental makeup, he will never regain his balance. But if he is sound and healthy, he will soon realize that bad conditions do not justify making them infinitely worse. He will also realize that there is only one safe rule: each man must strive to do his duty with a sound mind and healthy common sense. None of us can move the world very far on his own. But the world moves at all only when each of a great many people does his duty.