Not only is it a veritable machine, it is the largest, the most powerful, the most intricate machine we know of—except the solar system and the greater systems beyond it. And not only is it powerful and intricate—it is, like all powerful and intricate machines, extremely delicate. Extreme delicacy is a characteristic of all machines; it is inherent in every machine, simply because the good working of every part is dependent on the good working of every other part. An organism is a machine of the highest order, and therefore possesses this characteristic of inter-dependability in its highest form. A club is not an organism, or even a machine, and does not possess it. If a man injures one end of a club the other end is just as good as before; but if a club injures one end of a man, the other end is injured also. A severe blow on the head will prevent the effective use of the foot, and a severe blow on the foot will prevent the effective use of the head.
Similarly, in this great Machine of Civilization, a war between any two nations affects every other nation in the realm of civilization, though it may not affect appreciably the savages of Australia. A strike in the coal mines affects every person in the United States;—and even a threat to strike by the railway employees affects not only the whole United States, but, to some degree, all Europe.
This brings us to realize that, while the Machine of Civilization itself has improved tremendously, it is only as a machine, and only because it is a machine. It should make us realize also that the mere fact that a machine is good or useful is no bar to its being destroyed. It should make us realize besides that the finer a machine is the greater danger there is of its being injured and even destroyed, by careless or ignorant handling. These facts are clearly realized by all engineering companies of all kinds; and the result has been that highly competent engineers have been trained to care for and handle their engines. There are no more highly competent men in any callings than are the engineers in every civilized country. One might declare without much exaggeration that, of all the men in business or professions, the engineers are the most competent for their especial tasks; and the reasonableness of the declaration might be pointed out on the ground that the very nature of the engineering profession (unlike that of most other professions) makes it impossible for an engineer to be incompetent, and yet maintain his standing.
But the Machine of Civilization is composed not only of material parts, such as come within the province of the engineer, but also of immaterial parts; in fact, the principal parts are men, and especially the minds of men. It is the office of the Machine of Government to handle the men. It is also its office to direct their minds; because unless those minds view things correctly, the Machine of Government cannot work with smoothness. Now, men are inferior to machines in one important way:—men, as men, cannot be improved. It therefore devolves on Government continuously to instruct and train men to handle the Machine of Civilization skillfully, because the machine is being made more and more complicated, and more and more in need of intelligent care, with every passing day.
Is this fact realized? I fear not. No sign is visible to the author of these pages that the people in any country realize or even suspect that there is any need for looking out for the integrity of the Machine as a whole. The closest approximation to it is a belated realization that the Bolsheviki are a danger to "society." The people do not seem even to realize the necessity of having competent experts at the head of governmental affairs.
The Machine of Civilization had been developed to a very high stage when Trajan ruled the world about the year 100 A. D. For three-quarters of a century afterward, it continued to run with smoothness, under intelligent care; but in the year 180 A. D. Commodus came to the throne, and soon after began to abuse it. For two hundred years thereafter, the Machine suffered from such abuse and neglect, that by the year 395, it had become so unwieldy, that it was divided into two parts, one administered from Rome and the other from Constantinople. The two parts soon became two separate Machines, the Roman Machine being at first the better, but gradually becoming more and more ineffective under the unfavorable conditions of abuse and neglect. In 476, the Roman Machine broke down completely, and the barbarian chief, Odoacer, sat himself on the throne of Octavius Cæsar.
A ruin more complete, it would be hard to realize. The vast structure of Roman civilization, built on the civilization of Greece and Assyria and Babylonia and Egypt, was hurled to the ground; and its fine and beautiful parts were scattered to the winds by barbarians who hated civilization because they were barbarians. The progress of science and literature and art stopped. The marvelous inventions of the past were forgotten and disused. A condition of semi-barbarism passed into Europe, and continued for a period of five hundred years, to which the name Dark Ages has been aptly given. A feeble light began to glow about 800 A. D. as a result of the activities of Charlemagne, but it almost expired when he did. It began again when the Crusaders came back from the Orient with knowledge of the civilization that still persisted there; and shortly after came the first effort of the Renaissance. Then followed the invention of the gun, and then the invention of printing:—and presto—the making of another Machine of Civilization is begun.
Now let us realize three facts: one fact is that the Machine of Modern Civilization, though bigger and more complicated than the one of Trajan's time is not nearly so strong; another fact is that the Roman Machine was destroyed because it had become ineffective through carelessness and abuse; the third fact is that because in a measure, "history repeats itself," the Modern Machine may be destroyed, as the Roman was.
The Machine of today is vastly weaker than Trajan's. Trajan's Machine was operated by a powerful empire that controlled the whole world absolutely. No rival of Rome existed. The structure of society was simple, homogeneous and strong. It was almost wholly military. It rested on force; but that force rested on reason, moderation, skill and patriotism. Rome had many foes; but they were so weak compared with Rome, that she had naught to fear from them—so long as she kept her Machine in order.
The Machine of today is not only more complicated than that of Trajan, and therefore more liable to derangement from that cause alone—but it is supported by no government that dominates the world. On the contrary, the control is divided among a number of different nations that have diverse interests. The influence of this condition can be clearly seen in the fact that every great war has set back the progress of civilization for a while in all civilized countries, even though in some ways it has advanced it. The World War just finished, for instance, shook the very foundations of society; and we do not yet know that it did not impair them seriously. Certainly the Machine has not yet begun to run smoothly again. Certainly, the Bolsheviki are threatening it as seriously as the barbarians began to threaten Rome not long after Trajan's time. The Romans did not regard the barbarians then any more seriously than we regard the Bolsheviki now.