I
SEVERAL times during the past year I have attempted to put on paper my philosophy--or, if that sounds too presumptuous for an eighteen-year-old, my ideas in regard to the most vital subject that has presented itself to youth from the beginning of time: what is the formula for life? Many will say that one must be at least fifty years beyond my age to even consider the question; some will laugh and declare me harmless; a few will realize that this is primarily a problem for the young people of the world to consider. At all events, I shall enjoy reading these incoherent and unsophisticated pages some day in the future, when I shall have had time to put the ideas into practice. I wonder if they will be fundamentally the same; if they are merely unripened opinions which will grow into substantial, tangible certainties, when time and experience have mellowed them?
My other attempts have failed; I was discouraged at the poor unity, coherence, grammar--endless things which are immaterial to what I really want to express. Now, however, crude and unscholarly as these sheets are, they embody to some extent my thoughts about this fascinating subject of living.
The last few years my ideal of an all-round man or woman has been that he or she should be strong mentally, physically, and spiritually. When I first joined the Boy Scouts, I was proud to pledge myself "on my honor to keep myself physically strong, mentally awake, and morally straight." The three divisions have always appealed to me; I have measured my friends and acquaintances by them. But while they are separate and distinct each from the other, I think that one's religion is the effect of their combined causes--that is, you can always tell a man's religion by the way he treats his body, his mind, and his soul. Show me the way a man dances, let me hear him talking at a stag party, let me play golf with him, take me through his place of business and bring his employees to me; tell me what he reads, and what he does with his idle hours, if he votes, if he gives himself to his community--and then I'll tell you what his religion is!
If he is Christian in all of these things--and by Christian I mean that he applies Christ's principles to the best of his ability--he can go to church but once in many weeks and I will not be shocked. Nor do I belittle regular church attendance. It is very stimulating and inspiring practice. But I know so many people who "religiously" go to church and prayer meeting, who roll their eyes piously when their comfortable pastor repeats to them the same old things that they have heard all their lives about the Brotherhood of Man and the Fatherhood of God, the Trinity, and the Redemptive Love of Salvation--and who are laws unto themselves the other six days in the week. Oh, they are thoroughly respectable! But how few people there are who believe in a seven-day religion. I agree with Glenn Frank in his emphatic statement that "there is no distinction between the sacred and the secular." Emerson said that a man's action was only the picture book of his creed. Surely a man's religion is the way he lives!
Some people, however, say, "Whose business is it how I live? I can do as I please." Which leads me to believe that the greatest need in the world today (with the exception of a spirit of love), especially in our own country, is Responsibility. I have always felt that my body, my mind, and my soul were given to me to use for the betterment of my associates, my community, my nation; that I am the trustee of a Personality, and that I must regard it as a sacred trust. How else can I explain my presence here? I must be useful, "else wherefore born?"
Nor do I go around with a long face and contemplate my chances to save some fallen brother; I have a heck of a good time trying to lead a normal, healthy, happy, vigorous life. It is all so simple! I cannot understand the spirit which prompts some people to withdraw into themselves, like the friars of antiquity, and watch the misdeeds and heresies of their contemporaries through a telescope, and pray for their souls. Only when a majority of sober men go to a college dance is the booze-toping crowd forced to capitulate; only when honest, high-minded men get into politics will the political bosses and puppets be forced out; only when sensible Christians get into the common run of things will the other crowd come to its senses. It's got to come about by doing the thing, by action, rather than by the drawing away of skirts and the praying for souls.
Responsibility in the largest sense means to me self-sacrifice; and yet, I believe that we must give ourselves to others if for no other reason than selfishness, paradoxical as that may seem. I belong to a fraternity. If a brother of mine comes in drunk and gives the house a bad reputation, I shall suffer with the rest. So I waylay him, sober him up, put him to bed, and tell myself that my responsibility to the fraternity compelled me to do it. Rot, in nine cases out of ten--but it works. Another example is prohibition. The churches of this country and the women of the country did a great deal to cut out the evil of the corner saloon, but they would have been helpless had not American Big Business realized that our revenues might be increased with prohibition. Selfishness--but it worked. The churches have not yet learned the psychology of the masses. They are teaching that war is naughty, immoral, useless; all of which is true, but the same old story. Should they spend half as much time and energy in campaigns showing the loss of money to the people through war, and the increased prosperity which would undoubtedly result from a warless world, they would realize more rapid results, I am sure. A grocer said to me the other day, "Hit a man in the pocketbook, and you hit him everywhere else." Selfish, sordid? Yes; but if it accomplishes the altruistic and the spiritual, should we complain? That is what I mean by our responsibilities to others being prompted by selfishness; "cast your bread on the waters" --and it will come back cake!
But this is selfishness in the higher sense. After all, it is very difficult to distinguish between sacrifice and selfishness when we are considering whole masses of people. When we come rightdown to it, we give to and do for others largely because of selfishness; for we are not happy otherwise. I do not mean to be cynical, I do not mean to discredit altruism, I do maintain that there are two kinds of selfish motives; one for personal gain, and the other for helpfulness. I have said that I believe in the latter, that it is a rare and beautiful thing to find a man or woman who is devoting his or her life to the task of making others happy. I cannot politely voice my sentiments about the former.
SEVERAL times during the past year I have attempted to put on paper my philosophy--or, if that sounds too presumptuous for an eighteen-year-old, my ideas in regard to the most vital subject that has presented itself to youth from the beginning of time: what is the formula for life? Many will say that one must be at least fifty years beyond my age to even consider the question; some will laugh and declare me harmless; a few will realize that this is primarily a problem for the young people of the world to consider. At all events, I shall enjoy reading these incoherent and unsophisticated pages some day in the future, when I shall have had time to put the ideas into practice. I wonder if they will be fundamentally the same; if they are merely unripened opinions which will grow into substantial, tangible certainties, when time and experience have mellowed them?
My other attempts have failed; I was discouraged at the poor unity, coherence, grammar--endless things which are immaterial to what I really want to express. Now, however, crude and unscholarly as these sheets are, they embody to some extent my thoughts about this fascinating subject of living.
The last few years my ideal of an all-round man or woman has been that he or she should be strong mentally, physically, and spiritually. When I first joined the Boy Scouts, I was proud to pledge myself "on my honor to keep myself physically strong, mentally awake, and morally straight." The three divisions have always appealed to me; I have measured my friends and acquaintances by them. But while they are separate and distinct each from the other, I think that one's religion is the effect of their combined causes--that is, you can always tell a man's religion by the way he treats his body, his mind, and his soul. Show me the way a man dances, let me hear him talking at a stag party, let me play golf with him, take me through his place of business and bring his employees to me; tell me what he reads, and what he does with his idle hours, if he votes, if he gives himself to his community--and then I'll tell you what his religion is!
If he is Christian in all of these things--and by Christian I mean that he applies Christ's principles to the best of his ability--he can go to church but once in many weeks and I will not be shocked. Nor do I belittle regular church attendance. It is very stimulating and inspiring practice. But I know so many people who "religiously" go to church and prayer meeting, who roll their eyes piously when their comfortable pastor repeats to them the same old things that they have heard all their lives about the Brotherhood of Man and the Fatherhood of God, the Trinity, and the Redemptive Love of Salvation--and who are laws unto themselves the other six days in the week. Oh, they are thoroughly respectable! But how few people there are who believe in a seven-day religion. I agree with Glenn Frank in his emphatic statement that "there is no distinction between the sacred and the secular." Emerson said that a man's action was only the picture book of his creed. Surely a man's religion is the way he lives!
Some people, however, say, "Whose business is it how I live? I can do as I please." Which leads me to believe that the greatest need in the world today (with the exception of a spirit of love), especially in our own country, is Responsibility. I have always felt that my body, my mind, and my soul were given to me to use for the betterment of my associates, my community, my nation; that I am the trustee of a Personality, and that I must regard it as a sacred trust. How else can I explain my presence here? I must be useful, "else wherefore born?"
Nor do I go around with a long face and contemplate my chances to save some fallen brother; I have a heck of a good time trying to lead a normal, healthy, happy, vigorous life. It is all so simple! I cannot understand the spirit which prompts some people to withdraw into themselves, like the friars of antiquity, and watch the misdeeds and heresies of their contemporaries through a telescope, and pray for their souls. Only when a majority of sober men go to a college dance is the booze-toping crowd forced to capitulate; only when honest, high-minded men get into politics will the political bosses and puppets be forced out; only when sensible Christians get into the common run of things will the other crowd come to its senses. It's got to come about by doing the thing, by action, rather than by the drawing away of skirts and the praying for souls.
Responsibility in the largest sense means to me self-sacrifice; and yet, I believe that we must give ourselves to others if for no other reason than selfishness, paradoxical as that may seem. I belong to a fraternity. If a brother of mine comes in drunk and gives the house a bad reputation, I shall suffer with the rest. So I waylay him, sober him up, put him to bed, and tell myself that my responsibility to the fraternity compelled me to do it. Rot, in nine cases out of ten--but it works. Another example is prohibition. The churches of this country and the women of the country did a great deal to cut out the evil of the corner saloon, but they would have been helpless had not American Big Business realized that our revenues might be increased with prohibition. Selfishness--but it worked. The churches have not yet learned the psychology of the masses. They are teaching that war is naughty, immoral, useless; all of which is true, but the same old story. Should they spend half as much time and energy in campaigns showing the loss of money to the people through war, and the increased prosperity which would undoubtedly result from a warless world, they would realize more rapid results, I am sure. A grocer said to me the other day, "Hit a man in the pocketbook, and you hit him everywhere else." Selfish, sordid? Yes; but if it accomplishes the altruistic and the spiritual, should we complain? That is what I mean by our responsibilities to others being prompted by selfishness; "cast your bread on the waters" --and it will come back cake!
But this is selfishness in the higher sense. After all, it is very difficult to distinguish between sacrifice and selfishness when we are considering whole masses of people. When we come rightdown to it, we give to and do for others largely because of selfishness; for we are not happy otherwise. I do not mean to be cynical, I do not mean to discredit altruism, I do maintain that there are two kinds of selfish motives; one for personal gain, and the other for helpfulness. I have said that I believe in the latter, that it is a rare and beautiful thing to find a man or woman who is devoting his or her life to the task of making others happy. I cannot politely voice my sentiments about the former.
1 comment:
Hey Christy!
Luv your blog!
Glad to hear you are feeling better! HUGZ!!!
Love
Merrianne
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