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Page 43
In natural play a boy will be a horse or a driver. Either occupation
gives him plenty to do. But the role of an elderly passenger, given a
softly cushioned seat and deposited respectfully at the journey's end,
he rejects with violent expressions of scorn. It is ignominious. He will
be a policeman or robber or judge or executioner, just as the exigencies
of the game demand. These are honorable positions worthy of one who
belongs to the party of action. But do not impose upon him by asking him
to act the part of the respectable citizen who is robbed and who does
nothing but telephone for the police. He is not fastidious and will take
up almost anything that is suggested, if it gives him the opportunity of
exerting himself. The demand for exertion is the irreducible minimum.
Now to spoil all this fine enthusiasm you must arrange everything in
such a manner that the eager little worker shall find everything done
before he has time to put his hand to it. There must be no alluring
possibilities in his tiny universe. The days of creation, when "the sons
of God shouted for joy," must be passed before he is ushered in. He must
be presented only with accomplished facts. There must be nothing left
for him to make or discover. He must be told everything. All his designs
must be anticipated, by nurses and parents and teachers. They must give
him whatever good things they can think of before he has time to desire
them. From the time when elaborate mechanical toys are put into his
reluctant hands, it is understood that he is to be amused, and need not
amuse himself His education is arranged for him. His companions are
chosen for him. There is nothing for him to do, and if there were, there
is no incentive for him to do it. In the game of life he is never
allowed to be the horse. It is his fate to be the passenger.
A child is spoiled when he accepts the position into which fond, foolish
parents thrust him. Being a passenger on what was presumably intended to
be a pleasure excursion, he begins to find fault as soon as the journey
becomes a little wearisome. He must find fault, because that is the only
thing left for him to find. Having no opportunity to exercise his
creative faculties, he becomes a petulant critic of a world he can
neither enjoy nor understand. Taking for granted that everything should
be done for him, he is angry because it is not done better. His
ready-made world does not please him--why should it? It never occurs to
him that if he does not like it he should try and make it better.
Unfortunately, the characteristics of the spoiled child do not vanish
with childhood or even with adolescence. A university training does not
necessarily transform petulance into ripe wisdom. Literary ability may
only give fluent expression to a peevish spirit.
Among the innumerable children of an advanced civilization there are
those who have been spoiled by the petting to which they have been
subjected. Life has been made so easy for them that when they come upon
hard places which demand sturdy endurance they break forth into angry
complaints. They have been given the results of the complicated
activities of mankind, without having done their share in the common
tasks. They have not through personal endeavor learned how much
everything costs. They are not able, therefore, to pay cheerfully for
any future good. If it is not given to them at once they feel that they
have a grievance. For friendly co�peration they are not prepared. They
must have their own way or they will not play the game. Their fretful
complaints are like those of the children in the old-time market-places:
"We have piped unto you and you have not danced, we have mourned unto
you and you have not lamented."
There is a fashionable attitude of mind among many who pride themselves
on their acute intellectualism. It manifests itself in a supercilious
compassion for the efforts and ambitions of the man of action. He, poor
fellow, is well-meaning, but unilluminated. He is eager and energetic
because he imagines that he is accomplishing something. If he were a
serious thinker he would see that all effort is futile. We are here in
an unintelligible world, a world of mighty forces, moving we know not
whither. We are subject to passions and impulses which we cannot resist.
We are never so helpless as when we are in the midst of human affairs.
We have great words which we utter proudly. We talk of Civilization,
Christianity, Democracy, and the like. What miserable failures they all
are. Civilization has failed to produce contentment. It has failed to
secure perfect justice between man and man, or to satisfy the hungry
with bread. Christianity after all these centuries of preaching leaves
mankind as we see it to-day--an armed camp, nation fighting nation,
class warring against class. The democratic movement about which we hear
so much is equally unsuccessful. After its brilliant promises it leaves
us helpless against the passion and stupidity of the mob. Popular
education adds to the tribulations of society. It rapidly increases the
number of the discontented. The half-educated are led astray by quacks
and demagogues who flourish mightily. The higher technical education
increases that intellectual proletariat which Bismarck saw to be a
peril. Science, which once was hailed as a deliverer, is now perceived
to bring only the disillusioning knowledge of our limitations. The
bankruptcy of Science follows closely upon the bankruptcy of Faith.
Mechanical inventions, instead of decreasing the friction of life,
enormously increase it. We are destined to be dragged along by our own
machines which are to go faster and faster. Philanthropy increases the
number of the unfit. The advances of medicine are only apparent, while
statistics show that tuberculosis, a disease of early life, decreases,
cancer and diseases of later life increase.
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