Title: The Price of a Soul
Author: Bryan, William Jennings, 1860-1925
Language: English
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THE PRICE OF A SOUL

By

WILLIAM JENNINGS BRYAN


FUNK & WAGNALLS COMPANY

NEW YORK AND LONDON

1914



PUBLISHERS' NOTE

"The Price of a Soul" is an address delivered by Mr. Bryan, first
at the Northwestern Law School Banquet in Chicago, then as a
Commencement Oration at the Peirce School in Philadelphia and,
in 1909, extended into a lecture.



THE PRICE OF A SOUL


The fact that Christ dealt with this subject is proof conclusive that
it is important, for He never dealt with trivial things. When Christ
focused attention upon a theme it was because it was worthy of
consideration--and Christ weighed the soul. He presented the subject,
too, with surpassing force; no one will ever add emphasis to what He
said. He understood the value of the question in argument. If you
will examine the great orations delivered at crises in the world's
history, you will find that in nearly every case the speaker
condensed the whole subject into a question, and in that question
embodied what he regarded as an unanswerable argument. Christ used
the question to give force to the thought which he presented in
regard to the soul's value.

On one side He put the world and all that the world can contain--all the
wealth that one can accumulate, all the fame to which one can aspire,
and all the happiness that one can covet; and on the other side he
put the soul, and asked the question that has come ringing down the
centuries: "What shall it profit a man if he gain the whole world and
lose his own soul?"

There is no compromise here--no partial statement of the matter. He
leaves us to write one term of the equation ourselves. He gives us all
the time we desire, and allows the imagination to work to the limit,
and when we have gathered together into one sum all things but the
soul, He asks--What if you gain it all--_all_--ALL, and lose the soul?
What is the profit?

Some have thought the soul question a question of the next world only,
but it is a question of this world also; some have thought the soul
question a Sabbath-day question only, but it is a week-day question as
well; some have thought the soul question a question for the ministers
alone, but it is a question which we all must meet. Every day and every
week, every month and every year, from the time we reach the period of
accountability until we die, we--each of us--all of us, weigh the soul.

And exactly in proportion as we put the soul above all things else we
build character; the moment we allow the soul to become a matter of
merchandise, we start on the downward way.

Tolstoy says that if you would investigate the career of a criminal it
is not sufficient to begin with the commission of a crime; that you must
go back to that day in his life when he deliberately trampled upon his
conscience and did that which he knew to be wrong. And so with all of
us, the turning point in the life is the day when we surrender the soul
for something that for the time being seems more desirable.

Most of the temptations that come to us to sell the soul come in
connection with the getting of money. The Bible says, "The love of
money is the root of all evil." If I had been making the statement,
I think I would have said that the love of money is the root of
_nearly_ all evil. But that is probably due to the fact that I am
so conservative in thought and in method of statement, that, in
stating a proposition, I prefer to leave a margin, so that if
anybody disputes it I can bring proof of more than I said. But
the Bible says, "The love of money is the root of _all_ evil"
and I shall not attempt to weaken the statement. If it is a mistake
at all it is so slight a mistake that we need not spend time in
correcting it.

And because so many of our temptations come through the love of money
and the desire to obtain it, it is worth while to consider the laws
of accumulation. We must all have money; we need food and clothing
and shelter, and money is necessary for the purchase of these things.
Money is not an evil in itself--money is, in fact, a very useful
servant. It is bad only when it becomes the master, and the love of
it is hurtful only because it can, and often does, crowd out the love
of nobler things.

But since we must all use money and must in our active days store up
money for the days when our strength fails, let us see if we can
agree upon the rules that should govern us in the accumulation of
the money that we need. How much money can a man rightfully collect
from society? Surely, there can be no disagreement here. He can not
rightfully collect more than he honestly earns. If a man collects
more than he honestly earns, he collects what somebody else has earned,
and we call it stealing if a man takes that which belongs to another.
Not only is a man limited in his collections of what he honestly earns,
but no honest man will desire to collect more than he earns.

If a man can not rightfully collect more than he honestly earns, it is,
then, a matter of the utmost importance to know how much money a man can
honestly earn. I venture an answer to this and say that a man can not
honestly earn more than fairly measures the service which he renders to
society. I can not conceive of any way of earning money except to give
to society a service equivalent in value to the money collected. This is
a fundamental proposition and it is important that it should be clearly
understood, for if one desires to collect largely from society he must
be prepared to render a large service to society; and our schools and
colleges, our churches and all other organizations for the improvement
of man have for one of their chief objects the enlargement of the
capacity for service.

There is an apparent exception in the case of an inheritance, but it is
not a real exception, for if the man who leaves the money has honestly
earned it, he has already given society a service of equivalent value
and, therefore, has a right to distribute it. And money received by
inheritance is either payment for service already rendered, or payment
in advance for service to be rendered. No right-minded person will
accept money, even by inheritance, without recognizing the obligation
it imposes to render a service in return. This service is not always
rendered to the one from whom this money is received, but often to
society in general. In fact, most of the blessings which we receive come
to us in such a way that we can not distinguish the donors and must make
our return to the whole public.

But I need not dwell upon this, because in this country more than
anywhere else in the world we appreciate the dignity of labor and
understand that it is honorable to serve. And yet there is room for
improvement, for all over our land there are, scattered here and there,
young men and young women--and even parents--who still think that it
is more respectable for a young man to spend in idleness the money
some one else has earned than to be himself a producer of wealth.
And as long as this sentiment is to be found anywhere, there is
educational work to be done, for public opinion will never be what
it should be until it puts the badge of disgrace upon the idler, no
matter how rich he may be, rather than upon the man who with brain or
muscle contributes to the nation's wealth, the nation's strength
and the nation's progress. But, as I said, the inheritance is an
apparent, not an actual, exception, and we will return to the
original proposition--that one's earnings must be measured by the
service rendered. This is so important a proposition that I beg leave
to dwell upon it a moment longer, to ask whether it is possible to fix
in dollars and cents a maximum limit to the amount one can earn in a
lifetime.

Let us begin with one hundred thousand dollars. If we estimate a
working life at thirty-three years--and I think this is a fair
estimate--a man must earn a little more than three thousand dollars
per year for thirty-three years to earn one hundred thousand dollars
in a lifetime. I take it for granted that no one will deny that it is
possible for one to earn this sum by rendering a service equal to it
in value. What shall we say of a million dollars? Can a man earn
that much? To do so he must earn a little more than thirty thousand
dollars a year for thirty-three years. Is it possible for one to
render so large a service? I believe that it is. Well, what shall we
say of ten million? To earn that much one must earn on an average
a little more than three hundred thousand a year for thirty-three
years. Is it possible for one to render a service so large as to earn
so vast a sum? At the risk of shocking some of my radical friends I
am going to affirm that it is possible. But can one earn a hundred
million? Yes, I believe that it is even possible to serve society to
such an extent as to earn a hundred million in the span of a human
life, or an average of three million a year for thirty-three years.
We have one man in this country who is said to be worth five hundred
million. To earn five hundred million one must earn on an average of
fifteen million a year for thirty-three years. Is this within the
range of human possibility? I believe that it is. Now, I have gone as
high as any one has yet gone in collecting, but if there is any
young man with an ambition to render a larger service to the world,
I will raise it another notch, if necessary, to encourage him. So
almost limitless are the possibilities of service in this age that I
am not willing to fix a maximum to the sum a man can honestly and
legitimately earn.

Not only do I believe that a man can earn five hundred million, but I
believe that men have earned it. I believe that Thomas Jefferson
earned more than five hundred million. The service that he rendered
to the world was of such great value that had he collected for it
five hundred million of dollars, he would not have been overpaid. I
believe that Abraham Lincoln earned more than five hundred million,
and I could go back through history and give you the name of man after
man who rendered a service so large as to entitle him to collect more
than five hundred million from society, but if I presented a list
containing the name of every man who, since time began, earned such
an enormous sum, one thing would be true of all of them, namely: that
in not a single case did the man collect the full amount. The men who
have earned five hundred million dollars have been so busy earning it
that they have not had time to collect it; and the men who have
collected five hundred million have been so busy collecting it that
they have not had time to earn it.

Jefferson did not collect all he earned; in fact, he began public
life well-to-do for a man of that period, and died poor--impoverished
by visits of those who called to tell him how much they loved him and
how much they appreciated his work. Lincoln did not collect the full
amount; neither Jefferson nor Lincoln would have cared to collect
five hundred million. What would either one have done with such a
sum? Or, what is more important, what would five hundred million of
dollars have done with Jefferson or Lincoln?

In that wonderful parable of the sower, Christ speaks of the seeds that
fell and of the thorns that sprang up and choked them, and He himself
explained what he meant by this illustration, namely: That the cares of
this world and the deceitfulness of riches choke the truth. If the great
benefactors of the race had been burdened with the care of big fortunes,
they could not have devoted themselves to the nobler things that gave
them a place in the affection of their people and in history.

It seems, therefore, that while one can not rightfully collect more
than he honestly earns, he may earn more than it would be wise for
him to collect. And that brings us to the next question: How much
should one desire to collect from society? I answer, that no matter
how large a service he may render or how much he may earn, one should
not desire to collect more than he can wisely spend.

And how much can one wisely spend? Not as much as you might think,
and not nearly as much as some have tried to spend. No matter how
honestly money may be acquired, one is not free to spend it at will.
We are hedged about by certain restrictions that we can neither
remove nor ignore. God has written certain laws in our nature--laws
that no legislature can repeal--laws that no court can declare
unconstitutional, and these laws limit us in our expenditures.

Let us consider some of the things for which we can properly spend
money. We need food--we all need food, and we need about the same
amount; not exactly, but the difference in quantity is not great.
The range in expenditure is greater than the range in quantity, for
expenditure covers kind and quality as well as quantity. But there is
a limit even to expenditure. If a man eats too much he suffers for
it. If he squanders his money on high-priced foods, he wears his
stomach out. There is an old saying which we have all heard, that
"The poor man is looking for food for his stomach, while the rich man
is going from one watering place to another looking for a stomach for
his food." This is only a witty way of expressing the sober truth,
namely, that one is limited in the amount of money he can wisely
spend for food.

We need clothing--we all need clothing, and we need the same
amount. The difference in quantity is not great. The range in
expenditure for clothing is greater than the range in quantity,
because expenditure covers style and variety as well as quantity, but
there is a limit to the amount of money one can wisely spend for
clothing. If a man has so much clothing that it takes all of his time
to change his clothes, he has more than he needs and more than he can
wisely spend money for.

We need homes--we all need shelter, and we need about the same amount.
In fact, God was very democratic in the distribution of our needs,
for he so created us that our needs are about the same. The range of
expenditure for homes is probably wider than in the case of either food
or clothing. We are interested in the home. I never pass a little house
where two young people are starting out in life without feeling a
sympathetic interest in that home; I never pass a house where a room is
being added without feeling interested, for I know the occupants have
planned it, and looked forward to it and waited for it; I like to see a
little house moved back and a larger house built, for I know it is the
fulfilment of a dream. I have had some of these dreams myself, and I
know how they lead us on and inspire us to larger effort and greater
endeavor, and yet there is a limit to the amount one can wisely spend
even for so good a thing as a home.

If a man gets too big a house it becomes a burden to him, and some
have had this experience. Not infrequently a young couple will start
out poor and struggle along in a little house, looking forward to the
time when they can build a big house. After a while the time arrives
and they build a big house, larger, possibly, than they intended to
and it nearly always costs more than they thought it would, and then
they struggle along the rest of their lives looking back to the time
when they lived in a little house.

We speak of people being independently rich. That is a mistake; they
are dependently rich. The richer a man is the more dependent he is--the
more people he depends upon to help him collect his income, and the more
people he depends upon to help him spend his income. Sometimes a couple
will start out doing their own work--the wife doing the work inside the
house and the man outside; but they prosper, and after a while they are
able to afford help. They get a girl to help the wife inside and a man
to help the husband outside; then they prosper more--and they get two
girls to help inside and two men to help outside, then three girls
inside and three men outside. Finally they have so many girls helping
inside and so many men helping outside that they can not leave the
house--they have to stay at home and look after the establishment.
And this is not a new condition. One of the Latin poets complained of
"the cares that hover about the fretted ceilings of the rich," and it
was this condition that inspired Charles Wagner to write his little
book entitled "The Simple Life," in which he entered an eloquent
protest against the materialism which makes man the slave of his
possessions and presented an earnest plea for the raising of the
spiritual above the purely physical. I repeat, there is a limit
to the amount a man can wisely spend upon a home.

But a man can give his money away. Yes, and no one who has ever tried
it will deny that more pleasure is to be derived from the giving
of money to a cause in which one's heart is interested, than can
be obtained from the expenditure of the same amount in selfish
indulgence. But if one is going to give largely he must spend a great
deal of time in investigating and in comparing the merits of the
different enterprises, and I am persuaded that there is a better life
than the life led by those who spend nearly all the time accumulating
beyond their needs and then employ the last few days in giving it
away. What the world needs is not a few men of great wealth, doling
out their money in anticipation of death--what the world needs is
that these men shall link themselves in sympathetic interest with
struggling humanity and help to solve the problems of to-day, instead
of creating problems for the next generation to solve.

But you say, a man can leave his money to his children? He can, if he
dares. But a large fortune, in anticipation, has ruined more sons
than it has ever helped. If a young man has so much money coming to
him that he knows he will never have to work, the chances are that it
will sap his energy, even if it does not undermine his character, and
leave him a curse rather than a blessing to those who brought him
into the world. And it is scarcely safer to leave the money to a
daughter. For if a young woman has a prospective inheritance so
large that, when a young man calls upon her, she can not tell whether
he is calling upon her or her father, it is embarrassing--especially
so if she finds after marriage that he married the wrong member of
the family. And, I may add, that the daughters of the very rich are
usually hedged about by a social environment which prevents their
making the acquaintance of the best young men. The men who,
twenty-five years from now, will be the leaders in business, in
society, in government, and in the church, are not the pampered sons
of the rich, but the young men who, with good health and good
habits, with high ideals and strong ambition, are, under the spur of
necessity, laying the foundation for future achievements, and these
young men do not have a chance to become acquainted with the
daughters of the very rich. Even if they did know them they might
hesitate to enter upon the scale of expenditure to which these
daughters are accustomed.

I have spoken at length in regard to these limitations, altho we all
know of them or should. The ministers tell us about these things
Sunday after Sunday, or should, and yet we find men chasing the
almighty dollar until they fall exhausted into the grave. A few
years ago I read a sermon by Dr. Talmage on this subject; he said a
man who wore himself out getting money that he did not need would
finally drop dead, and that his pastor would tell a group of
sorrowing friends that, by a mysterious dispensation of Providence,
the good man had been cut off in his prime. Dr. Talmage said that
Providence had nothing to do with it, and that the minister ought to
tell the truth about it and say that the man had been kicked to death
by the golden calf.

A few weeks ago I read a story by Tolstoy, and I did not notice until
I had completed it that the title of the story was, "What shall it
profit?" The great Russian graphically presented the very thought
that I have been trying to impress upon your minds. He told of a
Russian peasant who had land hunger--who added farm to farm and land
to land, but could never get enough. After a while he heard of a
place where land was cheaper and he sold his land and went and bought
more land. But he had no more than settled there until he heard of
another place among a half civilized people where land was cheaper
still. He took a servant and went into this distant country and
hunted up the head man of the tribe, who offered him all the land he
could walk around in a day for a thousand rubles--told him he could
put the money down on any spot and walk in any direction as far and
as fast as he would, and that if he was back by sunset he could have
all the land he could encompass during the day. He put the money down
upon the ground and started at sunrise to get, at last, enough land.
He started leisurely, but as he looked upon the land it looked so
good that he hurried a little--and then he hurried more, and then he
went faster still. Before he turned he had gone further in that
direction than he had intended, but he spurred himself on and started
on the second side. Before he turned again the sun had crossed the
meridian and he had two sides yet to cover. As the sun was slowly
sinking in the west he constantly accelerated his pace, alarmed at
last for fear he might have undertaken too much and might lose it
all. He reached the starting point, however, just as the sun went
down, but he had overtaxed his strength and fell dead upon the spot.
Then his servant dug a grave for him and he only needed six feet of
ground then, the same that others needed--and the rest of the land
was of no use to him. Thus far Tolstoy told the story of many a
life--not the life of the very rich only, but the story of every
life in which the love of money is the controlling force and in which
the desire for gain shrivels the soul and leaves the life a failure
at last.

I desire to show you how practical this subject is. If time permitted I
could take up every occupation, every avocation, every profession and
every calling, and show you that no matter which way we turn--no matter
what we do--we are always and everywhere weighing the Soul.

In the brief time that it is proper for me to occupy, I shall apply the
thought to those departments of human activity in which the sale of a
soul affects others largely as well as the individual who makes the
bargain.

Take the occupation in which I am engaged, journalism. It presents a
great field--a growing field; in fact, there are few fields so large.
The journalist is both a news gatherer and a molder of thought. He
informs his readers as to what is going on, and he points out the
relation between cause and effect--interprets current history. Public
opinion is the controlling force in a republic, and the newspaper
gives to the journalist, beyond every one else, the opportunity to
affect public opinion. Others reach the readers of a newspaper
through the courtesy of the owner of the paper, but he has full
access to his own columns, and does not fear the blue pencil. The
journalist occupies the position of a watchman upon a tower. He is
often able to see dangers which are not observed by the general
public, and because he can see these dangers he is in a position of
greater responsibility. Is he discharging the duty which superior
opportunity imposes upon him? I might mention a number of temptations
which come to the journalist, but I shall content myself with a few.
First, there is the temptation to conceal the name of the real owner
of the paper. The proprietor of a paper should be known, but his
identity is not always disclosed. The corporate entity which plays so
large a part in the business world has entered the newspaper field.
The names of the stockholders are not published and we do not always
know what individuality directs the paper's policy. Year by year the
disclosures are bringing to light the fact that the predatory
interests are using the newspapers and even some magazines for the
defense of commercial iniquity and for the purpose of attacking those
who lift their voices against favoritism and privilege. A financial
magnate interested in the exploitation of the public secures control
of a paper; he employs business managers, managing editors, and a
reportorial staff. He does not act openly or in the daylight but
through a group of employes who are the visible but not the real
directors. The reporters are instructed to bring in the kind of news
which will advance the enterprises owned by the man who stands
back of the paper, and if the news brought in is not entirely
satisfactory it is doctored in the office. The columns of the paper
are filled with matter, written not for the purpose of presenting
facts as they exist, but for the purpose of distorting facts and
misleading the public. The editorial writers, whose names are
generally unknown to the public, are told what to say and what
subjects to avoid. They are instructed to extol the merits of those
who are subservient to the interests represented by the paper, and to
misrepresent and traduce those who dare to criticize or oppose the
plans of those who hide behind the paper. Such journalists are
members of a kind of "Blackhand society"; they are assassins, hiding
in ambush and striking in the dark; and the worst of it is that the
readers have no way of knowing when a change takes place in the
ownership of such a paper. Editorial poison, like other poisons, can
be administered more successfully if the victim is in ignorance as to
who administers it.

There are degrees of culpability and some are disposed to hold an
editorial writer guiltless even when they visit condemnation upon
the secret director of the paper's policy. I present to you a
different--and I believe higher--ideal of journalism. If we are going
to make any progress in morals we must abandon the idea that morals
are defined by the statutes; we must recognize that there is a wide
margin between that which the law prohibits and that which an
enlightened conscience can approve. We do not legislate against
the man who uses the printed page for the purpose of deception
but, viewed from the standpoint of morals, the man who, whether
voluntarily or under instructions, writes what he knows to be
untrue or purposely misleads his readers as to the character of a
proposition upon which they have to act, is as guilty of wrong-doing
as the man who assists in any other swindling transaction.

Another method employed to mislead the public is the publication of
editorial matter supplied by those who have an interest to serve.
This evil is even more common than secrecy as to the ownership of the
paper. In the case of the weekly papers and the smaller dailies,
the proprietor is generally known, and it is understood that the
editorial page represents his views. His standing and character give
weight to that which appears with his endorsement. A few years ago,
when the railroad rate bill was before Congress, a number of
railroads joined in an effort to create a public sentiment against
the bill. Bureaus were established for the dissemination of
literature, and a number of newspapers entered into contract to
publish as editorial matter the material furnished by these bureaus.
This can not be defended in ethics. The purchase of the editorial
columns is a crime against the public and a disgrace to journalism,
and yet we have frequent occasion to note this degradation of the
newspaper. Senator Carter, of Montana, speaking in the United States
Senate, caused to be read several printed slips which were sent out
by a bankers' association to local bankers with the request that
they be inserted in the local papers, suggestion being made that the
instructions to the local bankers be removed before they were handed
to the papers. The purpose of the bankers' association was to
stimulate opposition to the postal savings bank, a policy endorsed
affirmatively by the Republican party, and, conditionally, by the
Democratic party, the two platforms being supported at the polls by
more than ninety per cent of the voters. The bankers' association
opposed the policy, and, in sending out its literature, it was
endeavoring to conceal the source of that literature and to make it
appear that the printed matter represented the opinion of some one
in the community.

The journalist who would fully perform his duty must be not only
incorruptible, but ever alert, for those who are trying to misuse the
newspapers are able to deceive "the very elect." Whenever any movement
is on foot for the securing of legislation desired by the predatory
interests, or when restraining legislation is threatened, news bureaus
are established at Washington, and these news bureaus furnish to such
papers, as will use them, free reports, daily or weekly as the case
may be, from the national capitol--reports which purport to give
general news, but which in fact contain arguments in support of the
schemes which the bureaus are organized to advance. This ingenious
method of misleading the public is only a part of the general plan
which favor-holding and favor-seeking corporations pursue.

Demosthenes declared that the man who refuses a bribe conquers the
man who offers it. According to this, the journalist who resists the
many temptations which come to him to surrender his ideals has the
consciousness of winning a moral victory as well as the satisfaction
of knowing that he is rendering a real service to his fellows.

The profession for which I was trained--the law--presents another
line of temptations. The court room is a soul's market where many
barter away their ideals in the hope of winning wealth or fame.
Lawyers sometimes boast of the number of men whose acquittal they
have secured when they knew them to be guilty, and of advantages won
which they knew their clients did not deserve. I do not understand
how a lawyer can so boast, for he is an officer of the court and, as
such, is sworn to assist in the administration of justice. When a
lawyer has helped his client to obtain all that he really deserves
he has done his full duty as a lawyer, and if he goes beyond this,
he goes at his own peril. Show me a lawyer who has spent a lifetime
trying to obscure the line between right and wrong, trying to prove
that to be just which he knew to be unjust, and I will show you a man
who has grown weaker in character year by year, and whose advice, at
last, will be of no value to his clients, for he will have lost the
power to discern between right and wrong. Show me, on the other hand,
a lawyer who has spent a lifetime in the search for truth, determined
to follow where it leads, and I will show you a man who has grown
stronger in character day by day and whose advice constantly becomes
more valuable to his clients, because the power to discern the truth
increases with the honest search for it.

Not only in the court room, but in the consultation chamber the
lawyer sometimes yields to the temptation to turn his talents to a
sordid use. The schemes of spoliation that defy the officers of the
law are, for the most part, inaugurated and directed by legal minds.
President Roosevelt, speaking at Harvard a few years ago, complained
that the graduates of that great university frequently furnished the
brains for conspiracies against the public welfare. I was speaking
on this very subject in one of the great cities of the country some
months ago, and at the close of the address, a judge commended my
criticism and declared that most of the lawyers practising in his
court were constantly selling their souls. The lawyer's position
is scarcely less responsible than the position of the journalist,
and if the journalists and lawyers of the country could be brought
to abstain from the practises by which the general public is
overreached, it would be an easy matter to secure the remedial
legislation necessary to protect the producing masses from the
constant spoliation to which they are now subjected by the privileged
classes.

If a man who is planning a train-robbery takes another along to hold a
horse at a convenient distance, we say that the man who holds the horse
is equally guilty with the man who robs the train; and the time will
come when public opinion will hold as equally guilty with the plunderers
of society the lawyers and journalists who assist the plunderers to
escape.

Most of you are, I presume, engaged in what is known as business,
altho I confess that I have no sympathy with the narrow definition
which is often given to the word business. Every person who
contributes by brain or muscle to the nation's wealth and greatness
is engaged in business and is a necessary factor in the world's
progress.

Commerce is an increasing factor in the business world. It includes
both exchange and transportation and stands next in importance to
production. Production comes first, but production could only be
conducted on a limited scale without the exchange of merchandise. To
desire to gain an honorable distinction in this department of labor
is a worthy ambition. He who improves the instruments of trade by
bringing purchaser and consumer nearer together, thus facilitating
exchange, may count himself a real benefactor. But even here there
are temptations to be avoided. Let me suggest three. First,
speculation. I do not mean to say that the element of chance can be
entirely eliminated from any kind of business. The farmer takes his
chances upon the seasons; the merchant takes his chances upon the
market; the railroad owner takes his chances upon both the season and
the market; and we all take our chances upon sickness and death.
Uncertainty enters into every human calculation, but a distinction
can be drawn between those uncertainties which are unavoidable and
those uncertainties which are of the very essence of the transaction.
There is a legitimate work for the stock exchange and for the chamber
of commerce, but there is an illegitimate and vicious speculation on
the stock exchange and the produce market which has lured many
business men to their fall. The ordinary methods of accumulation are
necessarily slow when competition is left free to regulate profits,
while the gambler is spurred on by the hope of quickly realizing a
large profit upon a small investment. It is not strange that many are
charmed by the siren song of the stock ticker, but it means ruin, and
to the extent that a man yields to the temptation his morals are
weakened. There is but one sure measure of rewards, viz., one that
compensates each in proportion as he serves society. The securing of
something for nothing by a lucky turn of a card, or by a sudden
change in the market paralyzes one's purpose, and, in time, renders
him unfit for patient and persistent effort. I might emphasize the
fact that gambling in stocks and farm products often leads to
embezzlement, larceny and suicide, for these are the fruits of
speculation when it becomes a disease. But I prefer to put my
argument against gambling upon the broader ground that it is, in all
cases, a demoralizing influence, whether the gambler wins or loses.

I might dwell upon the evil effects of speculation upon innocent
parties whose property is juggled up or juggled down by the
manipulations of the market, but I would appeal, not only to the
innocent outsider, but to those who may be tempted by the profits
promised to the inside ring. I would suggest, however, that those
who by cornering the market suspend the law of supply and demand,
add crime to vice and defraud those who are induced to invest in
a "chance" which has no actual existence.

Monopoly is the second commercial temptation. Monopolies have been
attempted ever since trading began, and they are more common to-day
than ever before because more money can be made out of them. Many
well-meaning business men permit themselves to be drawn into
practises which are not only indefensible in the realm of conscience,
but which violate the statutes. The officers of the law are
constantly engaged in an effort to prevent the monopolizing of trade.

It is strange that anyone should attempt to defend a private
monopoly, for its plan and operation can be easily understood by any
one who knows either human nature or history. No judge would be
permitted to preside in his own case; no juror would be allowed to
serve in a suit to which he was a party, and yet the head of a
monopoly arbitrarily decides, every-day, questions where his
interests are on one side and public interests on the other. Can he
be trusted to decide impartially and to exact only a reasonable
profit? It is absurd to expect him to do justice to those whith whom
he deals. The student of history knows that the monopolist has always
been an outlaw. Three centuries ago, under Queen Elizabeth, the House
of Commons protested against the monopolies which she had authorized,
and I found, when in the Holy Land, that a very complete monopoly
existed there some seventeen hundred years ago. Josephus tells how
John of Gishala secured a monopoly in olive oil and charged ten times
as much for the oil as he paid for it. For the benefit of those who
think that all monopolies are traceable to the rebate, I venture to
suggest that the oil trust of Palestine was successfully operated
before railroads existed. But even tho John had nothing better than a
fast freight line of donkeys and distributed the oil in goat skins,
he showed as correct an understanding of the possibilities of
monopoly as any trust magnate has to-day, and I have wondered whether
our John secured his idea of an oil trust from John of Gishala.

We need laws making the private monopoly impossible, but we must have
back of these laws a moral sentiment which will condemn the club
wielded by the monopolist, as moral sentiment now condemns the
highwayman's bludgeon.

The third temptation to which the commercial man is subjected is the
corruption of politics. Just in proportion as a corporation secures a
monopoly of the business in which it is engaged, in that proportion
the necessity for government regulation increases, and I may add, the
difficulty of securing regulation increases in proportion to the
necessity for it. Municipal corruption has become a byword, and the
lobbyist has made his evil presence felt at the national and State
capitals. Bribery is becoming a fine art, and neither the voter nor
his representative is spared. The one lesson that must be taught is
that the man who gives a bribe is as wicked as the man who accepts
it--I am not sure but that he is more wicked, for the necessities
of the man who accepts the bribe--if need can palliate such an
offense--are usually greater than those of the man who offers it.
I appeal to you to assist, in every possible way, in the creation of
a public sentiment which will ostracise the business man who
purchases legislation with the profits derived from privileges
already secured, or who advances corruption money in anticipation of
the profits which governmental favors promise.

In the counting room as well as in the editor's library and in the
lawyer's office one hears the heart-searching question: "What shall
it profit a man if he shall gain the whole world and lose his own
soul?"--and happiness, honor and usefulness all hang upon the answer.

I would not be forgiven if I failed to apply my theme to the work of the
instructor. The purpose of education is not merely to develop the mind;
it is to prepare men and women for society's work and for citizenship.
The ideals of the teacher, therefore, are of the first importance. The
pupil is apt to be as much influenced by what his teacher is as by
what the teacher says or does. The measure of a school can not be
gathered from an inspection of the examination papers; the conception of
life which the graduate carries away must be counted in estimating the
benefits conferred. The pecuniary rewards of the teacher are usually
small when compared with the rewards of business. This may be due in
part to our failure to properly appreciate the work which the teacher
does, but it may be partially accounted for by the fact that the teacher
derives from his work a satisfaction greater than that obtained from
most other employments.

The teacher comes in contact with the life of the student, and,
as our greatest joy is derived from the consciousness of having
benefited others, the teacher rightly counts as a part of his
compensation the continuing pleasure to be found in the knowledge
that he is projecting his influence through future generations.
The heart plays as large a part as the head in the teacher's work,
because the heart is an important factor in every life and in the
shaping of the destiny of the race. I fear the plutocracy of wealth;
I respect the aristocracy of learning; but I thank God for the
democracy of the heart. It is upon the heart-level that we meet; it
is by the characteristics of the heart that we best know and best
remember each other. Astronomers tell us the distance of each star
from the earth, but no mathematician can calculate the influence
which a noble teacher may exert upon posterity. And yet even
the teacher may fall from his high estate, and, forgetting his
immeasurable responsibility, yield to the temptation to estimate
his work by its pecuniary reward.

Let me turn for a moment from the profession and the occupation to the
calling. I am sure I shall not be accused of departing from the truth
when I say that even those who minister to our spiritual wants and, as
our religious leaders, help to fix our standards of morality, sometimes
prove unfaithful to their trust. They are human, and the frailties of
man obscure the light which shines from within, even when that light is
a reflection from the throne of God. The ministers have for years
considered the liquor question a moral question, and I would not
chide them for their activity; but I think too little emphasis has
been placed upon the importance of total abstinence. Whether a
Christian can drink in moderation without harm to himself is purely
a physical question, and some Christians have overestimated their
ability to confine their drinking within safe limits; but there is a
moral question which is much larger, namely, can a Christian afford to
indulge the appetite for drink if his example leads weaker men to ruin?

The great apostle said that, if eating meat made his brother to
offend, he would eat no meat. It is a part of the minister's work
to cultivate such a love of brother in the Christian heart that the
Christian will paraphrase the language of the apostle and say: If
drinking maketh my brother to offend, I shall not drink.

Then, too, we have not sufficiently considered man's social needs.
Man must have communion with his friends, and we have left the saloon
to furnish about the only meeting place in the cities and towns.
Rooms should be opened where men can meet with wholesome surroundings
and free from the temptations that are ever present where men meet in
a room provided by one who has a pecuniary interest in cultivating an
appetite for drink.

The ministers must deal with all questions that involve morals, and
every great question is in its final analysis a question of ethics.

We need more Elijahs in the pulpit to-day--more men who will dare to
upbraid an Ahab and defy a Jezebel. It is possible, ay, probable, that
even now, as of old, persecution would follow such boldness of speech,
but he who consecrates himself to religion must smite evil wherever he
finds it, altho in smiting it he may risk his salary and his social
position. It is easy enough to denounce the petty thief and the
back-alley gambler; it is easy enough to condemn the friendless rogue
and the penniless wrong-doer, but what about the rich tax-dodger, the
big law-breaker and the corrupter of government? The soul that is
warmed by divine fire will be satisfied with nothing less than the
complete performance of duty; it must cry aloud and spare not, to the
end that the creed of the Christ may be exemplified in the life of
the nation.

Not only does the soul question present itself to individuals, but it
presents itself to groups of individuals as well.

Let us consider the party. A political party can not be better than its
ideal; in fact, it is good in proportion as its ideal is worthy, and its
place in history is determined by its adherence to a high purpose. The
party is made for its members, not the members for the party; and a
party is useful, therefore, only as it is a means through which one may
protect his rights, guard his interests and promote the public welfare.
The best service that a man can render his party is to raise its ideals.
He basely betrays his party's hopes and is recreant to his duty to his
party associates who seeks to barter away a noble party purpose for
temporary advantages or for the spoils of office. It would be a
reflection upon the intelligence and patriotism of the people to assert,
or even to assume, that lasting benefit could be secured for a party
by the lowering of its standards. He serves his party most loyally who
serves his country most faithfully; it is a fatal error to suppose that
a party can be permanently benefited by a betrayal of the nation's
interests.

In every act of party life and party strife we weigh the soul. That
the people have a right to have what they want is a fundamental
principle in free government. Corruption in government comes from the
attempt to substitute the will of a minority for the will of the
majority. Every measure which comes up for consideration involves
justice and injustice--right and wrong--and is, therefore, a question
of conscience. As justice is the basis of a nation's strength and
gives it hope of perpetuity, and, as the seeds of decay are sown
whenever injustice enters into government, patriotism as well as
conscience leads us to analyze every public question, ascertain the
moral principle involved and then cast our influence, whether it be
great or small, on the side of justice.

The patriot must desire the triumph of that which is right above the
triumph of that which he may think to be right if he is, in fact,
mistaken; and so the partizan, if he be an intelligent partizan, must
be prepared to rejoice in his party's defeat if by that defeat his
country is the gainer. One can afford to be in a minority, but he can
not afford to be wrong; if he is in a minority and right, he will
some day be in the majority.

The activities of politics center about the election of candidates to
office, and the official, under our system, represents both the party
to which he belongs and the whole body of his constituency. He has
two temptations to withstand, first, the temptation to substitute
his own judgment for the judgment of his constituents, and second,
the temptation to put his pecuniary interests above the interests
of those for whom he acts. According to the aristocratic idea, the
representative thinks _for_ his constituents; according to the
democratic idea, the representative thinks _with_ his constituents. A
representative has no right to defeat the wishes of those who elect
him, if he knows their wishes.

But a representative is not liable to knowingly misrepresent his
constituents unless he has pecuniary interests adverse to theirs.
This is the temptation to be resisted--this is the sin to be avoided.
The official who uses his position to secure a pecuniary advantage at
the expense of those for whom he acts is an embezzler of power--and
an embezzler of power is as guilty of moral turpitude as the
embezzler of money. There is no better motto for the public official
than that given by Solomon: "A good name is rather to be chosen than
great riches, and loving favor rather than silver and gold." And
there is no better rule for the public official to follow than
this--to do nothing that he would not be willing to have printed
in the newspaper next day.

One who exercises authority conferred upon him by the suffrages
of his fellows ought to be fortified in his integrity by the
consciousness of the fact that a betrayal of his trust is hurtful to
the party which honors him and unjust to the people whom he serves,
as well as injurious to himself. Nothing that he can gain, not even
the whole world, can compensate him for the loss that he suffers in
the surrender of a high ideal of public duty.

Permit me, in conclusion, to say that the nation, as well as the
individual and the party, must be measured by its purpose, its ideals
and its service. "Let him who would be chiefest among you be the
servant of all," was intended for nations as well as for citizens.
Our nation is the greatest in the world and the greatest of all
time, because it is rendering a larger service than any other nation
is rendering or has rendered. It is giving the world ideals in
education, in social life, in government and in religion. It is the
teacher of nations, it is the world's torch-bearer. Here the people
are more free than elsewhere to "prove all things and hold fast that
which is good"; "to know the truth" and to find freedom in that
knowledge. No material considerations should blind us to our nation's
mission, or turn us aside from the accomplishment of the great work
which has been reserved for us. Our fields bring forth abundantly and
the products of our farms furnish food for many in the Old World. Our
mills and looms supply an increasing export, but these are not our
greatest asset. Our most fertile soil is to be found in the minds and
the hearts of our people, and our most important manufacturing plants
are not our factories, with their smoking chimneys, but our schools,
our colleges and our churches, which take in a priceless raw material
and turn out the most valuable finished product that the world has
known.

We enjoy by inheritance, or by choice, the blessings of American
citizenship; let us not be unmindful of the obligations which these
blessings impose. Let us not become so occupied in the struggle for
wealth or in the contest for honors as to repudiate the debt that we
owe to those who have gone before us and to those who bear with us
the responsibilities that rest upon the present generation. Society
has claims upon us; our country makes demands upon our time, our
thought and our purpose. We can not shirk these duties without
disgrace to ourselves and injury to those who come after us. If one
is tempted to complain of the burdens borne by American citizens, let
him compare them with the much larger burdens imposed by despots upon
their subjects.

I challenge the doctrine, now being taught, that we must enter into
a mad rivalry with the Old World in the building of battleships--the
doctrine that the only way to preserve peace is to get ready for wars
that ought never to come! It is a barbarous, brutal, unchristian
doctrine--the doctrine of the darkness, not the doctrine of the dawn.

Nation after nation, when at the zenith of its power, has proclaimed
itself invincible because its army could shake the earth with its tread
and its ships could fill the seas, but these nations are dead, and we
must build upon a different foundation if we would avoid their fate.

Carlyle, in the closing chapters of his "French Revolution" says
that thought is stronger than artillery parks and at last molds the
world like soft clay, and then he adds that back of thought is love.
Carlyle is right. Love is the greatest power in the world. The
nations that are dead boasted that their flag was feared; let it be
our boast that our flag is loved. The nations that are dead boasted
that people bowed before their flag, let us not be content until our
flag represents sentiments so high and holy that the opprest of every
land will turn their faces toward that flag and thank God that there
is one flag that stands for self-government and for the rights of man.

The enlightened conscience of our nation should proclaim as the
country's creed that "righteousness exalteth a nation" and that
justice is a nation's surest defense. If there ever was a nation it
is ours--if there ever was a time it is now--to put God's truth to
the test. With an ocean rolling on either side and a mountain range
along either coast that all the armies of the world could never climb
we ought not to be afraid to trust in "the wisdom of doing right."

Our government, conceived in liberty and purchased with blood, can be
preserved only by constant vigilance. May we guard it as our children's
richest legacy, for what shall it profit our nation if it shall gain the
whole world and lose "the spirit that prizes liberty as the heritage of
all men in all lands everywhere"?





*** End of this LibraryBlog Digital Book "The Price of a Soul" ***

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