The Arena

V >> Various >> The Arena

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12

But however disappointed we may be, let us turn and seriously face the
situation. The Rev. Francis Bellamy is not at all sure that he is in
favor of his brother's _kind_ of nationalism. And yet, the _kind_ and
_method_ were the only peculiar and distinctive things in his
brother's book. Dreams are old and common; but when this book
appeared, people shouted "Eureka! We have found the way. This is the
fulfilment of our dreams!" Now we are told, on authority, that it is
not. And we are just where we were before.

People may suffer from a vague discontent for any number of years,
while yet they do no more than complain and wish they were more
comfortable. So, for example, the farmers have been doing. But, so
long as they go no further, there is no definite "cause" either to
uphold or oppose. But, when they call a national convention and
construct a platform, announcing definite aims and methods, then there
is something to talk about. Now, a man is either for or against "The
Farmers' Alliance." Of course, he may be profoundly interested in the
farmers' welfare, and yet oppose their aims and methods, because he
does not believe that real help can come in the way that they, at
present, propose. But, until _some_ plan is proposed, there can hardly
be said to be any farmers' movement at all.

So of nationalism. It does not consist in an indefinite confession
that the industrial condition of the world is not all that one could
wish, and an equally indefinite dream, or hope, or trust in evolution.
If that be nationalism, then, of course, we are all nationalists. The
nationalist clubs have platforms, declarations of principles,
statements of aims and methods. The one only value of Mr. Edward
Bellamy's book--beyond mere entertainment--was in its clear statement
of _an end to be reached in certain definite ways_. Take this feature
away, and there is no nationalism left to even talk about.

As there are many different types of socialism, so, of course, there
may be many different kinds of nationalism. But there _must_ be _some_
kind, if the matter is to be intelligently discussed. But the Rev.
Francis Bellamy declines to be held to the scheme of Mr. Edward
Bellamy; and he does not give us any other in its place. He says he
wants nothing "that is not an orderly development"; nationalism is
"only a prophecy"; it is "too distant to be certainly detailed"; "we
may be inspired by it," but nobody can yet tell whether we shall want
it or not; its sudden coming would be "a deplorable disaster," etc.,
etc.

Now I submit to the candid reader as to whether this sort of thing is
not too nebulous and tenuous for the uninitiated mind to discuss. "An
orderly development"--but of nobody knows what nor in what
direction--"a prophesy," an intangible "inspiration"; these may be
very fine, but where are we, and what are we talking about? For all I
know, up to the present time, I may be in cordial agreement with the
Rev. Francis Bellamy's state of mind--if only I could find out what it
is. He does not agree with his brother; nor do I. So far we are in
accord. But I cannot tell whether I can take the next step with him,
until he tells me what the next step is. But he does not even suggest
a definite end, nor hint one definite method. I am heartily with him
in being in favor of the millennium; but the practical question
is,--_which way_?

The only definite thing he does suggest is that, as the process of
natural evolution goes on, men will be competent to decide what they
want; and if they do not want any particular thing, they will not have
it. This is all very harmless; but it is so commonplace a truism that
it is hardly worth while to get excited over it.

But while he does not define himself, nor tell us what it is, nor how
it is to be come at, it is plain, all the way through, that he is a
believer in "nationalistic socialism." Now, we cannot indict a man for
cherishing hopes, or for encouraging them in others. But, in the case
of the negroes, at the close of the war, it was a real evil for them
to be expecting "a mule and forty acres of land" from the government;
for it stood in the way of real effort in practical directions. So,
while a nobler ideal is of incalculable benefit to a people, it is a
real evil for them to be indulging in impractical dreams. They waste
effort and divert power from practical ends, and result in that kind
of disappointment that discourages the heart and unnerves the arm.
Those, then, who talk of nationalism as a solution of our troubles,
ought to tell us just what they are after, and what methods they
propose. Then we can find out whether the plans will work or not.
Otherwise time, enthusiasm, and effort may all be wasted.

But the only definite end this article hints at is the destruction of
those monopolies that make light and transportation dear. But it is
conceivable that this may be done without a resort to nationalistic
socialism. And this, which he says is the first step, may be a step in
any one of several different directions. And if what he is after is to
come only as the result of a natural evolution, when everybody wants
it, and not as the result of a social catastrophe, then it would seem
to be difficult to tell the difference between it and individualism.
"The rounded development of the greatest number of individuals," he
himself sets forth as the motive and end of his kind of nationalism.
Now if somebody is going to _make me_ take on a "sounder development,"
that is one thing, but if everybody is only going to let _me_ do it,
that is quite another thing. Mark Twain's "Buck Fanshaw" was going to
have peace, if he had to "lick every galoot in town" to get it. This
may well stand for Edward Bellamy's military nationalism. But if we
are only going to have peace when everybody wants it, and will behave
himself, why this seems like the Rev. Francis Bellamy's nationalism,
with the "military" left out. And this, I say, looks to me very much
like the kind of individualism which I believe in.

I pass by, completely, the philosophical discussion as to what
constitutes "a nation." This I do, because it does not seem to me
relevant to the matter in hand. If my individual liberty is interfered
with, I cannot see that it helps me much to reflect that a nation, or
"the nation," is not a "sand-heap," but is "an organic being." The
oppression is the matter; and I had as lief be oppressed by a
sand-heap as by an organic being. What I object to is being oppressed
by either of them. And, whatever may be in the future, when men get to
be something different from what they are, _so far_ in the history of
the world it has been true that all kinds of governments have
oppressed the individual. And, so far, the only safety of the
individual has been such guarantees of personal rights and liberties
as have limited the governmental power. And until some one can give
the world assurance that human nature is to be transformed, it will be
just as well to maintain the guarantees, instead of putting still more
power into the hands of the government--whether it be called one thing
or another. While even one wolf is abroad, the wise shepherd will not
get rid of his dog.

But, while the Rev. Francis Bellamy has "come down," to the extent of
virtually giving up any kind of nationalism definite enough to fight
about, he nevertheless goes on with his arguments against the editor's
positions just as though nothing at all had happened. He stands up for
"nationalistic socialism" as though it were something clearly in
mind. And he argues at length that the state of things covered by this
term will not be open to such dangers as have been found to exist
under all other forms of government. Either human nature is to be
changed--though he does not tell us how--or there is to be some charm
in "nationalistic socialism" that is to change the nature of
"politics," disarm prejudice, make philistinism broad-minded, and turn
bigotry into tolerance. Wonderful is the power of _my_ particular
panacea!

Neither of the brothers Bellamy expect or propose any sudden change in
human nature. "Looking Backward" plainly and positively disclaims any
such expectation. So we are not only at liberty to deal with social
forces and factors as they have been, and as we know them, but we are
even compelled to do so. Let us, then, take up some of Mr. Flower's
points against nationalism, and see whether Mr. Bellamy has adequately
met them.

Mr. Flower thinks that nationalism would mean governmentalism and
paternalism--in the historic sense of those terms--raised to the
highest degree; and that these are both bad things. Mr. Bellamy admits
that they have been bad things in the past; but claims that something
in nationalistic socialism is to change their nature. As, in the
millennium, the lion is to "eat straw like the ox," so, in this coming
Edenic condition of affairs, the age-long oppressors of the individual
are to lose their man-eating proclivities. The world is open to
conviction on this point; but it will take more than words to produce
the result. When we see a lion eating grass, while the sheep play
about his feet, we will believe in his conversion. For--let the reader
take earnest heed--it is not the conscious evil in men that has been
oftenest the oppressor of their fellows; almost always the plea for it
has been the general good. Church and State both have set this
propensity down among the great cardinal virtues. As Saul of Tarsus
thought he was doing God service when he persecuted the early Church,
so the Church herself sang _Te Deums_ over St. Bartholomew, and
believed verily that the groans of the Inquisition and the fires of
her _autos de fe_ were for the glory of God and the good of man.

The curse of the whole business is just here--that a set of men should
fancy that they know better what their brothers ought to think and do
than the brothers themselves know. Mr. Bellamy himself lets out, in a
most curious way, his own advanced (?) idea of "toleration." By the
way, I would like to know how it happens to be any of his business,
for example, to "tolerate" me. Who sets him, or anybody else, up on
high to look down with "toleration" on other people?

But let us note his idea of "toleration." He says, with great
emphasis, "A man may prove to me by inductive data, reaching
uninterruptedly over ten thousand years"--I did not know he was so
old--"that my own nature is intolerant; he may even corroborate his
proof by pointing to my occasional acts of thoughtless disregard for
another's opinion; yet all this array does not overwhelm me, for _I
know_ [Italics mine] that I am not intolerant." This superlative
confidence in his own goodness makes me think of the congressman of
whom it was said, "He is the most distinguished man in Washington. I
know he is, _for he admits it himself_."

But a little later on creeps out an indication, in the light of which
we have a right to interpret this claim. Mr. Flower, in his editorial,
had shown how a Christian Scientist had been arrested in Iowa for this
offence. In the words of the indictment, "She had practised _a cure_
on one Mrs. George B. Freeman." After the physicians had pronounced
the case hopeless, and had given her up, this criminal woman had
actually dared to "cure" her. The heinousness of the offence was
admitted. It was not, in the ordinary sense, malpractice; no medicine
had been given, no pain was inflicted, no harm done. But she had been
presumptuous enough to "cure," and not after the "regular," the
orthodox way. Now the Rev. Francis Bellamy shows his "tolerance" in
regard to this crucial case, by saying, "But it is certainly true that
the State has the right to prevent malpractice--a right none of us
would wish renounced." Just what this has to do with an instance where
the _only_ malpractice even charged was that she "had practised a
cure," after all the physicians had given her up, is not very plain to
the worldly minded. But he goes on,--"And as soon as there are
sufficient data to convince an intelligent (_sic_) public opinion that
the theory, with its perilous repudiation of all medical skill, is not
fatal to human life, it will receive an ungrudged status."

"Here's richness," as Mr. Squeers would say. Mr. Bellamy's "tolerance"
then is limited carefully to what has an accepted "status" as judged
by "public opinion." It begins now to be plain as to what "tolerance"
is to be in the millennial era of nationalism.

But there is one more hint in Mr. Bellamy's article, without which
this new and improved definition of tolerance would not be complete.
He says, "It is hard to discover what individualism is surrendered
_except_ bumptiousness." But who is to decide what is "bumptiousness"?
Why, "an intelligent public opinion," of course. And who is to settle
as to what is "an intelligent public opinion," that has the right to
put down "bumptiousness"? Why, the "intelligent" public, of course. So
it comes back always to this,--we, the ruling majority, are
intelligent, and we have the right to decide as to what shall be and
shall not be permitted.

But now to go back a moment to a point that must not be lost sight of;
for it involves the whole issue between personal freedom and tyranny,
whether of a part of the people or all of them. He says, "as soon as
there are sufficient data to convince an intelligent public opinion,
etc., etc." But just how is this "data" to be accumulated, so long as
anybody who dares to have a new idea is to be arrested and imprisoned?
The very most fatal objection to this universal supervision and
control of all individual action by the governing power, which
nationalism contemplates and which is of its very essence, is that it
would become the tyranny of mediocrity, and would stand in the way of
growth.

Two forces, at work freely, are necessary to evolution: heredity and
the tendency to vary. The one conserves all the valuable attainments
of the past; and the other, like the new sprouts and twigs on a
growing tree, has in it all the promise of the future. Such a control
of life as nationalism contemplates would suppress the new twigs as
"bumptiousness," or would--while breaking them off as fast as they
appeared--ask them to accumulate "sufficient data to convince an
intelligent public opinion."

The "intelligent public opinion" of Europe thought Copernicus, and
Bruno, and Galileo, and Luther very bumptious sorts of persons. With
"an intelligent public opinion," such as existed in England and
America thirty years ago, on the subject of the origin of species,
what would have become of Darwin--provided that, at that time, the
governing power had assumed and exercised the right to put him to some
"useful" occupation, or to suppress ideas popularly believed to be
dangerous?

The plain fact of the matter is, that all the persecutions of the past
have grown out of just this idea, which Mr. Bellamy endorses, that an
"intelligent public opinion" has the right to tell certain individuals
what they shall believe and teach. And _all_ the growth of human
civilization thus far has been in the direction of the rise of the
individual as over against the claim of the majority to control. And
there is no safety for the individual, and no sure and swift promise
of human advance, until "intelligent public opinion" is taught to mind
its own business.

While, then, Mr. Bellamy denies that there is any danger of
"governmentalism" or "paternalism" under nationalistic control, he
himself admits and defends the principle. This he does while loudly
claiming to be tolerant. What, then, may we expect on the part of the
great mass of the people whose equal (?) tolerance he does not
undertake to guarantee? Is it just possible that his nationalism,
which is not of the military type even, is already manifesting some
symptoms of the incipient disease?

Five cases of the tyranny of the majority, that had been adduced by
Mr. Flower, his antagonist claims to deal with. I have already touched
on his treatment of Case II., that of the Christian Scientist. His
treatment of only one other is significant enough to call for notice
on my part. Case V. is that of one Powell of Pennsylvania. This man
had put a large sum of money into the business of manufacturing
oleomargarine. He had complied with all the conditions of the law. His
product was what it claimed to be, and was stamped as such. Nobody was
deceived or injured. But a later legislature--as if there were not
already crimes enough in existence--declares this manufacture a crime.
The "intelligent public" majority calmly robs him of his property and
ruins him, and feels no sort of compunction in the matter. One year it
encourages him to start a business; the next it ruins him for starting
it.

Mr. Bellamy, however, says this "proves too much. It shows a vested
money interest controlling a legislature and voting a rival business
into outlawry." And he adds, "This is a kind of instance socialists
like to get hold of." If socialists like to play with dynamite, then I
should think they might like such cases; otherwise, not. For it
happens precisely not to illustrate what Mr. Bellamy says it does.
Instead of its having been a case of "a vested money interest
controlling the legislature and voting a rival into outlawry," it
happened to be the "intelligent public opinion" of the farmers, who
wanted their butter business protected even though it took robbery to
do it. And this is just the kind of justice any new business may
expect, under nationalistic control, until it has accumulated "data"
enough to satisfy "intelligent public opinion."

Governmentalism and paternalism have always been evils, Mr. Flower
asserts. This Mr. Bellamy admits. For this reason, Mr. Flower thinks
the power of government should be minimized, and the individual left
more and more free. This would seem to be a most logical inference.
But, no, says Mr. Bellamy, for there is something peculiar in
nationalism that is going to neutralize all these malign tendencies.
He does not make it quite plain to the uninitiated as to how this is
to be done. The chief point seems to be that, instead of one man doing
it, as in a monarchy, or a few men doing it, as in an aristocracy,
everybody is going to do, and whatever everybody does is necessarily
going to be all right. Those to whom this appears perfectly plain and
satisfactory, of course are "not far from the kingdom of heaven," as
nationalism views it. I, for one, however, would like a few of the
"data," supposed to be so efficacious in other matters.

To sum the matter up, in closing, I wish to state definitely and
clearly a few objections to nationalistic socialism that seem to me
fatal.

1. The world began in socialism. In the barbaric period the tribe was
all and the individual nothing. Every step of human progress has kept
pace with the rise of the individual.

2. Military socialism, such as Mr. Edward Bellamy advocates, would be
only another name for universal despotism, in which the individual, if
not an officer, would only count one in the ranks. It would be the
paradise of officialism on the one hand, and helpless subordination on
the other.

3. Nobody is ready to talk definitely about any other kind of
nationalism; for nobody has outlined any working method. If it is only
what everybody freely wishes done--and this seems to be the Rev.
Francis Bellamy's idea--then it is hard to distinguish it from
individualism. At any rate, it is not yet clear enough to be clearly
discussed.

4. Nationalism, as commonly understood, could mean nothing else but
the tyranny of the commonplace. Democracy, as we know it, is limited
in all sorts of ways. It only looks after certain public affairs,
while the main part of the life of the individual is free. But suppose
the majority undertook to manage all the business of the country,
appoint each man his place and keep him in it, determine what should
be known, and taught, and done--it fairly stifles one only to think of
it! There has never been a time in the history of the world, when the
wisest and best things would not have been voted down. For it is
always the few who lead in religion, in morals, in art, in literature,
in learning, in all high service. But these few now do it, not by
despotic power, but only by influence; so all may be free. And there
has never been a time in the world's history when the most important
things that were being done were of apparent utility in the eyes of
the crowd. Consider Homer and Virgil, Isaiah and Jesus, Dante,
Shakespeare, Angelo, Copernicus, Galileo, Goethe, Luther, Servetus,
Newton, Darwin, Spencer, Galvani,--had nationalism been dominant in
their days, how long would it have been before the "intelligent public
opinion" of the governing board of their departments would have had
them up to show cause why they should not "go to work for a living"?

The progress of the world, up to the present hour, has always meant
the larger and still larger freedom of the individual. This freedom
has always had its evils. So all life has its disadvantages. But only
a few people, in any generation, believe in suicide as a cure.
Nationalism, freely chosen, would be the murder of liberty and social
suicide. When people have thought about it enough to comprehend its
meaning, they will choose to bear what ills they must, and seek some
more helpful method of cure, rather than adopt such an "heroic"
treatment as kills the patient in the hope of getting rid of the
disease.

INDIVIDUALITY IN EDUCATION.

BY PROF. MARY L. DICKINSON.

In this day of multiplied facilities for education, a day when
training begins with the kindergarten and ends in what is called
"higher education" both for men and women, the thoughtful observer is
constantly confronted by the question, why are not the people
educated? It is quite true that a great many people are; that very
many more believe they are; and still more believe the day is coming
when they are to _be_ educated in the broad and liberal sense of the
word. Our systems, founded upon the old scholastic idea, are generally
considered satisfactory, and any failure that may be observed in
results is attributed to the fact that, in particular cases, they have
not yet had time or opportunity for successful operation. And yet,
year after year, we are passing through the mills of our public
schools and colleges multitudes of minds that come out like travellers
who climb to the top of every high tower in their journey, because
they will not come home without being able "to say they have done it."

Apparently, too many of our students go through their course for no
better reason than to _say_ they have done it. There are grand and
noble exceptions, but these are generally among those who do not care
to SAY anything about it. The great majority, however, come forth in
the mental condition of the man, who laboriously climbs step by step
of the tower, takes his bird's-eye view of the field of learning,
accepts the impressions made upon his mind by the vast picture and the
vast mixture, and comes down to his own level again with no more real
knowledge of that at which he has glanced than has the traveller who
has taken a glimpse from the heights which he climbed, because the
guide-book said this was "the thing to do."

In every walk of life, among statesmen, men of business, and artisans,
exist noble examples of exceptional profundity and reality of
knowledge, but in the great average of so-called educated people of
our own generation, we find the majority possessing very fragmentary
interest in any of the subjects which, as students, were supposed to
engage their attention. What they would have been without the
so-called education we cannot judge, and it might be unfair to infer,
but what they are no discriminating person, with a knowledge of what
our systems claim, can fail to see. We cannot ignore the fact that for
some reason they have failed to attain their natural and possible
development.

Our educational theories, on paper and in text-books, are well-nigh
perfect; in actual operation why should they fail? Like a great
machine, fed with the material of thought, the crank turns, the wheels
go round, and the whole world is a-buzz with the work and the noise,
but the creature on whom all this power is expended, is only in rare
instances a truly educated man or woman. What, then, is the defect? If
the machine is right, then the material with which it is fed must be
defective. If the material is right, then the machine has every virtue
except that of adaptation to the use for which it was intended.

Since the whole end and aim of education is to develop, not the ideal
mental constitution, but the real mind just as we find it, the real
creature just as he is; and since we cannot change the human mind to
make it fit the machine, the effort should be to adapt the educational
process to suit the human mind. To what extent they are doing this is
one of the great questions for teachers of the present day. To what
extent,--admitting that now in some particulars they fail,--it may be
possible to modify and adapt methods to the actual and genuine needs
of human nature, is certainly a problem worthy of the earnest thought
of the broadest and best cultured minds. In attempts at adaptation we
have fallen into a process of analyzing the youthful human creature.
Having discovered that he possesses mathematical capacity, we have
supplied him with mathematical training, and have in this department
thrust upon him all, and sometimes more, hard work than he can bear.
Having found he possessed religious faculty, we have emptied upon him
the theologies and psychologies, and when we have supplied him in
these and other directions we look for the educated man. Judge of our
disappointment. We find the faculties, we find the modifications
produced by the training, but we look in vain for the man. With all
our multiplied facilities for producing a trained and disciplined
nature, what we think we have a right to expect,--but what we do not
find,--is a creature conscious of his own great heritage, conscious of
his kinship with all humanity, of his kingship over the universe, of
his power to grapple with the world outside of himself, and of his
rightful dominance over both the life without and the grander life
within. Instead, we find men weak where they should be most purposeful
and brave. We find him the slave of the body who should be able to
make the body the servant of his soul. We find hands untrained to
practical uses, minds unequal to grasping the common wants of
existence, hearts in which the high ideals of character and strong
impulses toward true usefulness are over-swept by that consideration
for self that makes one's own interests seem the very centre of the
universe of God.

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12