Thoughts of a fool
himself. I have no objection to him as a playmate, why should he object
to me? In psychologizing this one I discovered that he feels keenly
the woes of the universe; and he is so impressed nevertheless with his
own greatness that he eliminates the woes of the world by taking care
of the world, which is himself. It is the same old game, with a new
label--the non-resistance label--and it takes pretty well.
Therefore I conclude that while I cannot explain any code of action to
be wise (I cannot even say that the things I think I really think, or
just think I think them; and really think something else which I don’t
think). I know this much, that we fools are not to be sneered at. It is
we that furnish the opportunity for the wise to show their wisdom.
THE MAN TO BE
Some of the wisest may know why it is that the end of a school term is
called the “commencement.” Being a fool I admit that I do not know,
and I don’t believe that even ordinarily wise folk know. But that has
nothing to do with the case; the case being that at high school and
college commencements there are usually many or few essays read by
enlightened students.
I attended one of those ending commencements, and one of the wisdomized
students read an essay on “Whither are We Drifting?”
After explaining that wonderful change which will take place in the
next twenty years in all the sciences--that we will travel to Mars by
airships and our food will consist of tablets, to save the stomach
work--he came in his discourse to man himself. The population in
the cities will increase an hundred-fold and we will become more
specialized than ever before, was his theme. After the exercises
luncheon was served to the elect, and there the merits of the different
essays were discussed. They all agreed that the paper on “Whither are
We Drifting?” was the most scientific. They called the young student a
seer, and agreed that there can be no question that man will become
more specialized than ever. Instead of eight men making a pair of
shoes, as it now takes, in the future it will take forty; that in all
the walks of life, in all vocations, things will be more divided and
specialized.
“We are living in an age of specialization,” they said, “and surely we
will not go backward; we will go forward.”
As usual the wise do not agree with me, but nevertheless, I am
convinced that the coming man will be a consolidated man. Please
observe the trend of man’s endeavor, and note the results. He started
with the conception of things as a whole, and all things divine. He
worshiped the sun, the moon, and the stars, the trees and the creative
function, whether by symbol or in action--everything was God. That was
the Golden Age of his joy. Then the wise men appeared and “analyzed
God.” They really had no other claim to be wise than the discovery of
good and evil and the work of separating them. The office of “wise
man” maintains its pristine purpose with professional purity unto the
present time. He began specializing--dividing things into parts. He
specialized God and put him in heaven above; he specialized the devil
and put him in hell below. But life revenged itself on the specializer,
and in turn man, the specializer, became specialized. And now, when it
seems that things are coming to their oneness once more, man too, will
consolidate himself and become a complete man.
The wise, having analyzed the Universe, have cautioned the multitude
against worshiping that which his priest disapproved. So it came to be
that we “drifted” into specialization. We placed God in the “heavenly
bodies,” and all the rest of creation were the world and the flesh,
and these were of another God, the devil by name. The priest himself
was the earliest to experience the revenge that time works to the
meddling wise. The priestly function had been symmetrically composite.
The priest was mentor, tutor, doctor, lawyer, judge, politician,
philosopher, administrator, and executioner. The fine works of art
were made and preserved by religious bodies. Gradually differentiation
sheared one after another of these prerogatives from him, until there
is little left him but his fantastic vestments, and even these are
disappearing. We used to take our medicine and advice from the priests.
Who now would stoop to do him such reverence? No one takes the priest
seriously in these days. We pretend that we go to him to cure our
souls, but we’d like to see ourselves permit him to monkey with our
liver, sit on juries, purvey our diet, or obtrude his general boredom
on us as of yore.
It is true that we have become specialized under the tutelage of our
wisest, but the Man to Be will have other ideals, and he will scorn to
be a part of a man.
Observe the distributing side of our commercial life. Formerly, when
we went to market we found all kinds of commodities under one roof. The
same man sold plows, pins, calico, bacon, hair-oil, tape, and what not?
Then differentiation became the order of the day. We went to the hatter
for our hats, and to the druggist for our pills, and to the butcher for
our raw meat, and to the delicatessen shop for our cooked meats.
A man devoting his time to one article becomes perfect in his relation
to his specialty. He learned everything about it with the result of
better satisfaction, more value to the consumer, and more profit
to himself. After it became perfect by specialization--when the
function of specialization has brought the improvements required of
it--consolidation takes its place. We have now what is called the
department store. A specialistic consolidation. Although resembling
the market of old, it is a forward step; it is the perfectness of the
specialist with the advantage of co-operation.
In the shop the smith made knives, wagons; all things wrought in
iron and steel were made there. The next step was to specialize and
to perfect each thing. Fortunes were made in the manufacture of
screws, bolts, and sundry “parts.” Each part has become perfect by
specialization--consolidation is the result; the great machine shops
now make all the material for their own consumption. The same is true
in agriculture. Starting out with a general farm, with its many
grains, fruits, and meats, the specializer comes with the stock farm,
the dairy-farm, and truck-farm. Now consolidation takes place even
there.
The man in mediæval times, when gods were in full swing, was a man
who used his head, his hands, and his heart. He was a complete man.
Then the specialist came. The schools and colleges have taken men’s
heads; the church and the ethical societies have taken man’s heart;
the factory has taken his hands; with the result that hell is full
of headless and handless people, sent there by the theologians. The
graveyards are crowded with heartless and handless students, sent
there by the dry, economic philosophy of our professors. The earth has
been paved with bones and bathed with the blood of the workingman,
slaughtered by his own kind, because they have not used their heads nor
their hearts. Others have done the thinking for them. The specialists
have done their work--man has become perfect in each of his parts. I
am looking for the consolidation of the perfect parts of man. I am
looking for the restoration of head and heart to the brainless worker
in the factory and he will become an intellectual giant. The theologian
will also be a useful member in society when he uses his hands. To be
a laborer will be the sole patent of nobility, and the pedant, the
pedagogue, and the professor will pocket his pride, purge himself of
his pretensions, and become a producer instead of a parasite.
Then we will be like children of one household, departing from the
family roof in the morning. Some go to pick berries, others to catch
fish, others to till the soil. Some in the workshops, some in the
mines, with the freedom to work at what pleases us, and to change
from one work to another if we choose. At eventide there will be a
gathering of those who have each performed his allotted task--a union
of the scattered tribes. And it is then, when all the various members
come together once more in the joy of having rendered each a service
to each, that the day is done. Any fool could read this lesson to the
wisest, but so overawed have we fools allowed ourselves to become under
the domineering masterfulness of the wise, that only rarely will the
fool trust himself to “sass back.” I wonder if I am a rare fool?
SUCCESS
Whoso has achieved the purpose or has obtained the thing that he
desires has attained Success.
There be wise ones who say that success has been cornered and
monopolized and opportunities are slendering. There are still others
who assure us that they have a formula; that the “greedy rich” have
not the monopoly that envy attributes to them. There be socialists,
anarchists, disciples of Henry George, of John Alexander Dowie, and
Ella Wheeler Wilcox, who have prescriptions warranted to transplant
one from Rag Alley to the desirable side of Easy Street. When you get
through taking their nostrums step around to the fool’s office and let
her enlighten you.
Success is within you, I say. The attainment of your ideal is success;
if not, then what is? Blame no one (even yourself) if you fail in the
realization of your ideal. You get what you want if you want it.
I do not pretend to have a hard-and-fast definition of success, that
can be photographed and sent on application for inspection and approval.
“He has made a success who has obtained the fulfillment of his
strongest desire.”
Do not permit the supernally wise to dissuade you by interposing some
other interpretation of success. Neither heed the successful man’s
advice, for unless you fail he cannot succeed, hence his advice is for
his and not your success. Take a fool’s advice and shun those who would
dazzle you with a description that does not apply to an achievement of
the real thing which you most desire.
Why should you delude yourself with chasing after something you don’t
want, because a sage has told you that it is that which you ought to
want? Your own ideal is clear enough. You do not require the medicine
men of your tribe to concoct ideals for you. You have a multitudinous
stock of desires on hand. Make your selection. Set the chosen one on a
pinnacle and have no other gods before it.
Fame, wealth, happiness, revenge, notoriety, or any other ideal that
you set up in the holiest sanctuary, is yours if you prove faithful to
it.
Whatever your desire is you shall have. But you must not seek to
dictate by what processes it will answer your call. You must be
prepared to take it by whatever route it arrives.
The price that has always been paid (there are no deadheads on the
roster) is the submergence of every aim but the achievement of the
ideal. You cannot serve two masters; you cannot have two ideals. The
cost is marked in plain figures; it is fixed and invariable. There
are no rebates, no free-list, no slipping under the canvas. If you
want a thing you must strip yourself of all other purposes than that
of obtaining that thing. You must conquer every craving, kill every
desire, stifle every call, but the clamor of “get there!”
All that is dear to you must be held in readiness to be given in
exchange. The love of parents and children, your compassion with the
widowed and the fatherless, your virtue and comfort, and all else that
you have held dear must be sacrificed on the altar of your ideal. There
must be no looking back, lest you become a pillar of salt. However, if
it is what you most desire you will not count the cost too great. If
you falter at the cost, if you find there is something you won’t give
in payment for your ideal, you have been mistaken in your ideal; that