Three Things

by Elinor Glyn

To say the least of it, it would inculcate an immense self-respect.

There should not be, and I believe there is not, any law which can prevent the lowest in the land from rising to the highest place—if he is fitted for it. It is the ceaseless cry of the unfit unit for some situation above his capabilities, which is a distressing feature of modern life. But, even in this, the spirit shown in the desire to rise is good; while if he had the will to fit himself for what he aspires to, it would be splendid and great. And these are the men and women who succeed, no matter what avocations they may be engaged in. The others, the shouters, only hamper the wheels of progress and fall eventually as the dust in the ruts.

Formerly there was a hard line drawn between “gentlemen” and common men. And there were all sorts of things that, however bad he might be, a “gentleman” did not do; or if he did commit these actions, his punishment was swift. He was obliged to face the ordeal of a duel, or he received the cut direct from his own class.

These ideas of behaviour, accompanied by the responsibility for the welfare of numbers of tenants upon his property—responsibility very often nobly sustained—produced in the old English aristocrat a very fine specimen indeed. And from him downwards in all the social classes, a high tone of honour was maintained. But now the democratic idea is sweeping away these classes and these standards. The State is taking the power for good from the individual, and the machine is crushing the man; so it behooves all serious thinkers more than ever to use their logical common sense to supply the place once occupied by the old ideals. Nothing is so arrogant as ignorance—and loud shouting ever concealed an empty pate.

Part of the crude spirit of the Great Unrest of to-day manifests itself by the effort of those beneath to demonstrate in words that they are the equals of those above them. And, pitiful and ridiculous as this is, the spirit arose in good. It is because those underneath desire to be the equals of those above them, that they use the only means their limited understandings provide them with, to try to obtain their ends. You never hear of numbers of people shouting that they are the equals of the tramp in the street!

So it shows that even in this, the Great Unrest is an uplifting force. And when reason and education have directed its current, surely we may hope that we shall arise again as a nation, like a giant refreshed with wine.

The study of the atavism of races, the study of heredity, the study of the influence of the welfare of the mother upon her unborn child, are all useful and expanding studies for ordinary thinking minds, and are quite within the scope of the average intelligence. But the modern hatred of all restraint—another failing born in the good of desire for freedom—makes it difficult to preach any course of action which would involve curtailment of time or pleasure.

You often hear people say about some misfortune, “Just as I expected, such and such happened,” and they do not stop to realise that their expectancy helped the thing which they feared, to materialise. No one can deny the force of imagination. Its existence has been abundantly proved. For instance, there was a case which was in the newspapers some time ago, of the guard on a Russian train who believed he was locked into the cold-storage van, and wrote a letter describing how he was being frozen to death. And he was actually found dead in the morning, although the temperature of the car had never gone below freezing point!

People will readily credit this, but will ridicule the idea that their own imaginations are daily helping or hindering their own and others’ lives.

Marconi demonstrated that messages can be transmitted by wireless telegraphy, and his discovery became a thing of commercial value. So it was believed in as nothing marvellous, but merely as a new departure of science. Yet the numberless proofs of other currents beyond our actual sight which manifest themselves each day in every life, and influence it, are unconsidered quantities, if not actually denied.