224 The Hon. Walter Mines Page [June 12,. 



We never reach a stage where we can say : " Xow our task is done ; 

 Wfe have only to hold fast to what we have gained." Rather, we 

 have to work without weariness and without rest to make sure tliat 

 our majorities shall he wise — in other words, that the whole ]»eo[»le 

 shall be trained to trustworthiness of judgment. 



One great advantage of this constant vigilance wliich comes of 

 constant change is that the eyes of men are kept towards tlie future. 

 There is no time nor chance to look backward. The phrase in the 

 President's inaugural address that roused the whole nation was tLis : 

 '' I call all forward-looking men to my side." Xo man in the 

 Kepublic is willing to confess that he is a backward- looking man. 

 The prodigious educational effort all looks to the future — millions of 

 money and the best energies of many of the best men are all spent 

 on niaking to-morrow better than yesterday. " What shall our 

 children be ? " not " What were our forefathers ? " is the insistent 

 question. 



This is the explanation of the dominant note of hopefulness in 

 American life. Men differ in their judgment of the past and of the 

 present : in their expectation of the future they are one. Nothing 

 matters much if we leave a clear opportunity for all the children of 

 the Republic. 



And this buoyancy, this hopefulness, I rate among the very 

 greatest assets of our democracy. It is its spiritual quality. We 

 have a life in which there is no social despondency, no political 

 despair, no national fear. 



And we have discovered that this dominant cheerfulness and 

 hopefulness make for unselfish service. The preacher to one of the 

 large American universities told me that of the thousands of young 

 men who had sought spiritual advice from him not one had asked, 

 '• What shall I do to be saved ? " but that every one had asked, 

 " What can I do to save somebody else ? " In a society that does 

 not deceive itself into thinking that it has a fixed and stable basis, 

 the very necessity of self-preservation drives men to help those wiio 

 need help. Concern for the forgotten man may be altruism, but it 

 is also self-preservation. He may turn up some day as our master. 

 But when the forgotten are helped to an opportunity they must 

 expect no other help. It is a mere truism that the unfortunate 

 members of any society are numerous in proportion to the decline of 

 personal efficiency and self-reliance. In an ideal democracy there 

 would be none of these. In our fairly working democracy they are 

 relatively few. 



Thu- does our democracy lay heavy burdens on the shoulders 

 of every citizen. No thoughtful citizen can escape the particular 

 responsibility that belongs to him to see to it. in so far as he can^ 

 that no class in society is forgotten by society as a whole, for that is 

 where danger begins. A sol)er gratitude for a chance to work for 

 this ideal runs through the speeches and the state papers and the 



