Thus the more dangerous forms of missionary activity have always attracted Americans; and nowhere else has the nurse’s profession, which requires so much patience, attracted so many women. All the world knows the sacrificing spirit which was shown during the war against slavery, and there is no less of that spirit in times of peace. Every day one observes the readiness of men to risk their own lives in order to save those of others; and one is surprised to see that the public understands this as a matter of course. The more modest and naturally more frequent form of self-sacrifice consists in giving of one’s own possessions, whether a small sum to the contribution-box of the Salvation Army, or a present of millions to benevolent institutions. It is true that private benefactions are open to interpretation; sometimes they are made for the sake of social recognition, more often they are merely superficial, inconsiderate, or ill-timed, and therefore they are often detrimental to the community. But after all allowances, the volume of contributions to all benevolent purposes is simply astonishing; and here, too, the historical development shows that of all motives the religious has been the strongest.
Yet in all these movements the religious motive, the soul’s salvation, has been only one among other influences that are rather social. American philanthropy is perhaps more often religiously coloured than it is in Germany; but the more benefaction comes to be in the hands of organizations with a trained administration, the more the social and economic factors appear. In the same way, Sunday observance and temperance have come to be social problems which are almost distinct from ecclesiastical considerations; and if the American is honest, upright, and pure, he himself scarcely knows to-day whether he is so as a Christian or as a gentleman. Questions of morality point everywhere from religious to social considerations.
PART FOUR
SOCIAL LIFE
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
The Spirit of Self-Assertion
On landing in New York, the European expects new impressions and surprises—most of all, from the evidences of general equality in this New World. Some have heard, with misgivings, of the horrors of upstart equality; but more look with glad expectancy on the country where no traditions of caste impose distinctions between human beings, and where the Declaration of Independence has solemnly recognized as a fundamental truth that all men are born free and equal. Those who fear the equality are generally soon put at ease. They find that social classes, even in New York, are nicely distinguished; no work-stained overalls are found where a frock coat is in order. The other travellers are just as quickly disillusioned in their hopes of equality. It is a short distance from the luxury of Fifth Avenue to miserable tenement districts;—an abrupt social contrast, in all its Old World sharpness and hardness.
If the newcomer, then, in his surprise turns to those who know the country, his questions will be differently answered by different persons. The average citizen will try to save the reputation of equality. No doubt, he says, equality rules in America—equality before the law, and equality of political rights. And such average patriot would be surprised to hear that this sort of equality is found in Europe also. But perhaps our newcomer chances on a mind of less typical habit. This one may reply, with the incomparably sly wink of the thoughtful American, that there is no more equality in America than in Europe. We indulge in such glittering generalities in our Declaration of Independence, to give our good local politicians a congenial theme on public holidays, and so that badly paid shop clerks may solace themselves with such brave assertions as a compensation for their small pay. But we are not so foolish as to run amuck of nature, which after all has very wisely made men unlike one another.
But both replies are in a way false, or, at least, do not touch the root of the matter. It is undeniable that one can no longer speak of an equality of wealth or means of enjoyment, or even, in spite of occasional modest claims to the contrary, of an equal opportunity for education and development. In spite of this, it is a mistake to suppose that on this account the spirit of equality is found only in judicial and political spheres. There is another, a social equality, of which most Americans are not conscious, because they do not know and can hardly imagine what life would be without such equality; they do not meditate on social equality, because, unlike political or legal equality, it is not abstractly formulative. The American is first aware of it after living some time in Europe, and the European grasps the idea only after a serious study of American life.
The social sentiment of equality, although variously tinged yet virtually the same throughout the United States, in nowise militates against social distinctions which result from difference of education, wealth, occupation, and achievement. But it does demand that all these different distinctions shall be considered external to the real personality. Fundamentally, all Americans are equal. The statement must not be misunderstood. It by no means coincides with the religious distinction that men are equal in the eyes of God, and it is not to be associated with any ethical ideas of life. Equality before God, and the equal worth of a moral act, whether done by the greatest or the humblest of God’s children, are not social conceptions; they are significant only in religious, and not in social, life. And these two spheres can everywhere be separated. It can even be said that, as profoundly as religion pervades every-day life in America, the characteristic principle of equality in the social community is wholly independent of the ethics of the New Testament.
It is still less a metaphysical conception. The American popular mind does not at all sympathize with the philosophical idea that individuality is only an appearance, and that we are all fundamentally one being. The American thinks pluralistically, and brings to his metaphysics a firm belief in the absolute significance of the individual. And finally, the American principle of equality which we wish to grasp is not rationally humanitarian; whether all human beings are really equal is left out of account. It is a question actually of this one social community living together in the United States and having to regulate its social affairs.
Let us suppose that a group of similarly employed good friends were on an excursion, and that the young people for the sake of diversion were agreed to represent for a while various sorts of human occupation—one is to play millionaire, another beggar, still others judge, teacher, artisan, labourer, high official, and valet. Each one plays his part with the greatest abandon; one commands and the other obeys, one dictates and the other trembles. And yet behind it all there is a pleasant feeling that at bottom they are all just alike, and that the whole game is worth while merely because they know that one is in fact as good as another. If a real beggar or servant were to come into the circle, there would be no more fun, and the game would be wholly meaningless. Strange as it may sound, this feeling is at the bottom of social life in America. Every one says to himself: All of us who inhabit this incomparable country are at bottom comrades; one bakes bread and the other eats it, one sits on the coachman’s box and the other rides inside; but this is all because we have agreed so to assign the rôles. One commands and the other obeys, but with a mutual understanding that this merely happens to be the most appropriate distribution of functions under the circumstances in which we happen to be placed.