Nube de etiquetas
miércoles, 27 de junio de 2007
Los niños menores de 18 años de edad, normalmente, no deben tomar nortriptilina. Si el doctor le ha prescrito nortriptilina a su niño, usted debe vigilar muy cuidadosamente su comportamiento, especialmente al comienzo del tratamiento y en cualquier momento en el que la dosis sea aumentada o disminuida. Su niño podría presentar graves síntomas en forma repentina, de modo que es muy importante prestar atención a su comportamiento todos los días. Llame de inmediato al médico de su niño si él o ella presenta cualquiera de los siguientes síntomas: nuevo estado depresivo o empeoramiento de la depresión; pensar en provocarse daño o en el suicidio, o planear o intentar suicidarse; preocupación excesiva; agitación; ataques de pánico; dificultad para quedarse o permanecer dormido; irritabilidad; comportamiento agresivo; actuar sin pensar; inquietud severa; excitación anormal, frenesí, otro tipo de cambios súbitos o extraños en el comportamiento. El doctor deseará ver a su niño periódicamente mientras toma nortriptilina, especialmente al comienzo del tratamiento. El doctor podría también querer hablar por teléfono con usted o con su niño, esporádicamente. Asegúrese de que su niño cumpla con todas las citas y con todas las conversaciones telefónicas con su médico. El médico o el farmacéutico de su niño le proveerá la hoja con información impresa del fabricante para el paciente (guía del medicamento), cuando su niño empiece el tratamiento con nortriptilina. Lea cuidadosamente la información y consulte a su doctor o farmacéutico sobre cualquier duda que usted tenga. Usted también puede obtener la "guía del medicamento" en el sitio web de la FDA. Converse con el doctor acerca de los riesgos de que su niño tome nortriptilina.
martes, 26 de junio de 2007
By Joseph R. Svinth
A slightly different version of this article appeared in Aikido Journal, 25:2 (1998). Copyright © 2000 Joseph R. Svinth. All rights reserved.
matter? For any pioneer, it is not a matter of harvesting, but of sowing.
-- Yoshiaki (Yoshitsugu) Yamashita, circa 1887
In 1902, a wealthy Seattle businessman named Sam Hill was routinely working ten hours a day, six days a week. This prolonged absence caused his nine-year old son to turn "sickly," as being spoiled and selfish was then known. Rather than spend more time with the boy, Hill decided that judo, which he had seen demonstrated during a recent business trip to Japan, would be just the thing to imbue young James Nathan Hill "with the ideals of the Samurai class, for that class of men is a noble, high-minded class. They look beyond the modern commercial spirit."
Hill therefore asked I. Shibata, a Japanese friend living in New Haven, Connecticut, to find him a good judo teacher. In February 1903, Shibata told Hill of a Professor Yoshiaki (Yoshitsugu) Yamashita of Tokyo. [EN1]
Yamashita was born in Kanazawa City, in Ishikawa Prefecture, on February 16, 1865. The son of a minor samurai, he received some martial art training as a youth. In August 1884 he became the nineteenth member of Jigoro Kano’s Kodokan Dojo, where he began studying the jujutsu style that later became known as judo.
Despite all the stories about how it took years to get rank in the old days, Yamashita earned his 1-dan ranking after just three months at Kano’s school. Subsequent promotions continued apace, and he received his 4-dan after just two years. He was further promoted to 6-dan in 1898, and, upon his death in October 1935, he became the first person to receive posthumous promotion to 10-dan. Highly educated and urbane – he spoke good English and wrote beautiful Japanese – Yamashita quickly became a top-notch instructor. His postings included the Imperial Japanese Naval Academy and Tokyo Imperial University.
Yamashita’s skill was not solely theoretical, either. He was a member of the Kodokan teams that wrestled the Tokyo police jujutsu club in 1883 and 1884, and in 1946, the British judo pioneer E.J. Harrison, who studied judo at the Kodokan around 1905, told the following stories of Professor Yamashita’s practical fighting skills in the Budokwai Quarterly Bulletin:
It chanced that some years before I joined the Kodokwan Yamashita and a friend were assaulted by seventeen coolies in a Tokyo meat-shop – a sort of popular restaurant. Although some of the coolies were armed with knives the gang were dispersed in a twinkling, three of them with broken arms and all with bruised and battered faces. [EN2]
As fast as one of the two experts artistically ‘downed’ his man the other would pick the victim up like an empty sack and dump him unceremoniously in the street. The only evidence of the conflict on the side of the two experts took the form of skinned knuckles where the latter had come in contact with the coolies’ teeth. On another occasion Yamashita fell foul of a coolie in the upper room of a restaurant and promptly threw him downstairs.
The coolie returned to the fray with fourteen comrades, but Yamashita calmly sat at the head of the stairs and as fast as the coolies came up in single file, owing to the narrowness of the passage, he simple choked them in detail and hurled them back down again. In the excitement of the moment he was rather rougher than was strictly necessary, and so broke one man’s neck. The rest fled in terror, carrying off their dead and wounded. Yamashita was arrested, but as he was easily able to prove that he had been one man against fifteen he was, of course, acquitted. Nevertheless, the Kodokwan temporarily suspended him for his conduct, which was deemed unduly violent.
Hill knew none of this, however. All he knew was that his friend in Connecticut said that Yamashita was a good judo teacher, that judo was supposed to build character in boys, and that his son James Nathan was badly in need of stronger character. So Hill wrote Yamashita on July 21, 1903, saying:
Referring to the correspondence between Mr. I. Shibata and myself regarding your coming to America, I beg to state that I am now ready to carry out my proposition to you as made in February last.
My son will be next year in the city of Washington, D.C., from the first of October on. I have arranged so that if you will call at the office of the Nippon Yusen Kaisha [Japan Mail Lines] [EN3] in Tokyo they will furnish you transportation for yourself and your wife from Yokohama and Seattle, and I will pay for same. The steamship ‘Shinano Maru’ leaves Yokohama on the 22nd of September. If possible, I should like you to sail at that time. I shall, of course, furnish you with a railroad ticket from Seattle to Washington, D.C. for yourself and wife as well.
I am greatly interested in this matter and believe that you will do well, and I am very anxious that my boy should learn the art.
Trusting that you will be able to come to America and that I may hear from you at earliest moment to that effect.
To which Yamashita responded on August 26, 1903:
In reply to your favor I am very glad to inform you that we are ready to start for America on the 22nd of September on board ‘Shinano Maru’ as you so kindly arranged for us.
I had been much bothered about how to show you the true art of our ‘jujutsu’ before accepting your proposition because I was afraid that there is no Japanese resident there who is able to show you the art as my opponent, but fortunately I have got a young Japanese gentleman, one of my pupils who is very clever and whose father is a judge of the Tokyo Supreme Court, who voluntarily applied to go to America with us at his own expense which I have gladly consented to.
Asking you to give our kindest regards to Mrs. Samuel Hill and your son.
So, on September 23, 1903 the 38-year old Yamashita, his 25-year old wife Fude, and his 19-year old assistant Saburo Kawaguchi boarded the SS Shinano Maru in Yokohama. Since Hill was paying his fare, Yamashita traveled first-class. On the other hand, Kawaguchi traveled second-class, doubtless because his father was paying his way. Still, neither man traveled steerage. So when they arrived in Seattle fifteen days later Yamashita proudly told immigrations officials that he was a professor hired to teach "jujitsu" to Mr. Hill’s children. Kawaguchi just as proudly proclaimed himself Professor Yamashita’s assistant.
On Saturday, October 17, 1903 Yamashita and Kawaguchi gave a judo exhibition at the Seattle Theatre. This was a private show, not a public one; the theater was between shows, and Hill hired it for the evening. Guests included Sam Hill’s mother-in-law Mary Hill (wife of railroader J.J. Hill, the man of whom it was said, "In the West there are many mountains, but only one Hill,"), Senator Russell Alger (a Republican from Michigan, and a former Secretary of War), and several Seattle sports writers. So far as I know, this was the first time Kodokan judo was shown to a non-Japanese audience in North America. (Since journalist H. Irving Hancock had begun studying jujutsu in New York City as early as 1896, this statement refers solely to Kodokan judo.)
During his show, Yamashita told the audience that judo was a word meaning "victory by pliancy or yielding." What this meant, he was quoted in the Post-Intelligencer as saying, was that:
Furthermore, judo was an exercise in Social Darwinism:
Speeches done, Yamashita and Kawaguchi demonstrated various throws and holds for the crowd. People seeing such demonstrations for the first time invariably thought that they were prearranged gymnastics rather than real wrestling. Sportswriter Ed Hughes of the Seattle Times, for example, wrote in January 1912 that:
Doubtless thinking the same thing, Hill quietly arranged for Yamashita to meet someone who was not part of his personal troupe. After all, he wanted a jujutsu teacher, not an acrobat. Toward this end, Hill arranged a bout with some professional wrestlers in Seattle. When the wrestlers failed to appear, he substituted a guest named C.E. Radclyffe, a 210-pound Englishman who was a properly trained amateur boxer. According to the British wrestling writer Percy Longhurst, writing in Superman Magazine in May 1936, "Here is what the boxer has to say about the encounter:"
His worries about the Professor’s abilities gone, Hill then took his Japanese to the District of Columbia to meet James Nathan Hill. What James Nathan thought of the Professor and his judo is unknown, but as James Nathan was notoriously lazy, what he had to say about it is probably better imagined than repeated.
For Yamashita, the trip east was hardly wasted. For one thing, he got to see a lot of railroads along the way, which after all may have been one reason for the trip in the first place. (Yamashita’s sponsors included several leading Japanese industrialists.) For another, he had no trouble finding a job teaching judo to the children of the Washington elite. While his regular students were mostly rich men’s daughters -- Irving Hancock’s Physical Training for Women by Japanese Methods (1904) was then quite fashionable -- he didn’t mind, as according to an article in the New York World, Yamashita’s only requirement in his judo classes was "an absolute good temper." His wife was equally fortunate, and her students included the
daughters of the Democratic vice-presidential candidate and a former governor of Mississippi. [EN4]
While in the District of Columbia, Professor Yamashita gave some lessons at the Japanese Legation. The Japanese naval attaché, Lieutenant Commander Isamu Takeshita, was from a samurai family and knew a good thing when he saw it – in 1926, he persuaded aikido founder Morihei Ueshiba to move to Tokyo, and in 1935 he introduced aiki budo, as aikido was then known, into the United States. [EN5] So it is hardly surprising that in March 1904, he also arranged for Professor Yamashita to meet with President Theodore Roosevelt in the White House.
As Roosevelt put it in a letter to his sons, he believed in "rough, manly sports" so long as they did not "degenerate into the sole end of one’s existence… character counts for a great deal more than either intellect or body in winning success in life." And he thought he knew all about jujutsu. After all, in 1902, his wrestling instructor, a Philadelphia policeman named James J. O’Brien, had shown him some tricks he had learned in Japan. (O’Brien had been a constable at Nagasaki's Umegasaki Station from 1895 to 1899, so the instruction was legitimate.)
According to an article published in Literary Digest in August 1927, O’Brien began his demonstration by showing Roosevelt some technical illustrations. Suddenly Roosevelt stopped at a photo of a woman sticking her stiffened fingers into a man’s eyes.
A little worried lest this maneuver should make an unfavorable impression, the Captain [O’Brien] stammered:
Colonel Roosevelt’s response, according to a writer in the Philadelphia Public Ledger, was reassuring.
No matter. What Yamashita showed was a complete system rather than a few simple tricks. And, despite what everyone thought, his acts were not prearranged: they were that good. Therefore, in the words of the New York World, Yamashita and his partner "caused Mr. Roosevelt to quit winking and gasp. They showed him what jiu-jitsu really is and they were engaged on the spot."
Although The World reported that there were seven degrees in jiu-jitsu, and Roosevelt intended to have at least five of them, Roosevelt’s primary goal in all this was not rank, but weight reduction. Since becoming President, his weight had soared to over 220 pounds, and he hoped to be down to 200 by the elections. So, during March and April 1904, Roosevelt practiced judo three afternoons a week, using a ground floor office in the White House as his workout space. Then, for the rest of the summer, he practiced occasionally. He stopped training during the elections, and there is no record showing that he resumed his studies afterward.
The President’s training partners included his sons, his private secretary, the Japanese naval attaché, Secretary of War William Howard Taft, and Secretary of the Interior Gifford Pinchot. When these people were unavailable, then Roosevelt tried his tricks on husky young visitors. The latter included Robert Johnstone Mooney, who with his brother visited the White House on the afternoon of Thursday, August 18, 1904. According to an article published in The Outlook in October 1923, Mooney’s brother was a noted amateur boxer. So, after doing a little sparring with the two young men, Roosevelt:
We replied in the negative, and he continued, pounding the air with his arms, ‘You must promise me to learn that without delay. You are so good in other athletics that you must add jiu-jitsu to your other accomplishments. Every American athlete ought to understand the Japanese system thoroughly. You know’ – and he smiled reminiscently – ‘I practically introduced it to the Americans. I had a young Japanese – now at Harvard [A. Kitagaki] – here for six months, and I tried jiu-jitsu with him day after day. But he always defeated me. It was not easy to learn. However, one day I got him – I got him – good and plenty! I threw him clear over my head on his belly, and I had it. I had it.’
The president probably agreed with these statements. For example, on March 5, 1904 he wrote his son Kermit:
A month later, he wrote his son Theodore Jr.:
Yamashita left Washington around May 1904. Apparently someone – probably Hill or Roosevelt -- had suggested that he teach judo to Harvard football players, thereby reducing their risk of death or serious injury. But this never occurred, as at the insistence of President Roosevelt, Yamashita instead took a position teaching judo at the US Naval Academy.
Yamashita started at the Naval Academy in January 1905. Training took place Monday, Wednesday, and Friday afternoons. He earned $1,666 for the semester, but had to pay his own assistants. The class had about 25 students.
While teaching these classes Yamashita constantly stressed that what he taught was a gentlemanly art rather than something done by ruffians or professional wrestlers. Opinions regarding the quality of his instruction varied widely. According to the Army and Navy Journal for February 18, 1905 some believed "it was the best possible means of physical training, while others regard it of little value, indeed, of positive harm as inculcating unfair and unsportsmanlike ideas of physical contests."
Such debates occurred throughout North America during 1905. Much of the debate was engendered by the Russo-Japanese War, in which Japanese propagandists routinely attributed their successes to military judo training. And Irving Hancock and Robert Edgren, a pair of journalists who were touting the wrestling skills of a jujutsu man named Katsukuma Higashi, engendered more. [EN6] While the latter grossly exaggerated Higashi’s actual ability – he lost in three straight falls to an American wrestler named George Bothner in April 1905, and in minutes to a British judoka named Yukio Tani in November 1905 – the hype generated much controversy. Wanting to know the answer for himself, on Thursday, February 23, 1905 the President arranged a private match between Professor Yamashita and a middleweight catch-as-catch-can wrestler named Joseph Grant. In a letter to his son Kermit, Roosevelt described the outcome:
As it turned out, the Military Academy hired a retired world champion wrestler named Tom Jenkins instead, and never once regretted the decision.
Three weeks later Yamashita, Kitagaki, and Midshipmen McConnell, Piersol, Ghormley, and Heim gave their first public judo demonstration. [EN8] While the crowd watched politely, it greatly preferred the boxing and wrestling shows that followed. A second show given in May 1905 met an equally cool response. Said the Army and Navy Journal afterward:
Although disappointed by this response, Yamashita left Annapolis in June fully expecting to be rehired in the fall, and the only judo he did publicly during the summer of 1905 was for a Russo-Japanese War benefit held at the Lafayette Theatre in Washington, DC on June 30. His partner in this demonstration was Saburo Koshiba of Tokyo. Then, come October, the Naval Academy told Yamashita that it had no money for a judo program and that his services were no longer required.
Understandably upset, Yamashita complained to friends at the Japanese Legation that he had turned down several jobs during the summer, thinking that the Navy would be rehiring him in the fall. And, as this left him with insufficient funds for another year in America, he began making plans to return to Japan.
About the same time that Yamashita was packing his bags, President Roosevelt happened to ask the Japanese ambassador how his former judo teacher was doing. Upon hearing the answer, the President asked the Secretary of the Navy if there was some reason that Yamashita should not be rehired for at least one more year. As Secretary Charles J. Bonaparte could not think of a reason he cared to tell the President, he immediately sent a letter to the new Superintendent of the Naval Academy, Rear Admiral James H. Sands, asking him to "please take the necessary steps to comply with the wishes of the President." As one would expect, Admiral Sands in turn wasted no time telling his staff to find a way of funding the President’s judo program.
Within two weeks the Naval Academy staff had designed a curriculum and moved $1,700 into the appropriate budget. Admiral Sands then asked Yamashita to please come by his office in Annapolis "to arrange for the course of instruction in Judo." On December 4, 1905, Admiral Sands signed a contract with Yamashita in which the latter was to give fifty one-hour lessons at $33.33 per lesson. The class was taught during the first half of 1906. On May 6, 1906 Admiral Sands wrote the Navy Department to say that the course had been completed, but suggested that it not be repeated in 1907, as it was the opinion of both himself and his staff that "a knowledge of Jiu-jitsu is not of great value to those who are being prepared for a life on shipboard." President Roosevelt once again begged to differ, and so money was allocated for the purpose of bringing Yamashita back for a third year. But following the end of the 1906 academic year Yamashita left the United States for Japan, and on July 24 he attended an important judo conference held in Kyoto. His absence was hardly remarked by the US Navy, which did nothing more with judo until 1943. [EN9]
Meanwhile, back in Seattle, Sam Hill was annoyed. He had brought Yamashita to America to teach judo to his son, and then the Professor had deserted James Nathan for that damned cowboy in the White House. So, for the rest of his life, Hill would complain to anyone who would listen that Roosevelt had "taken away from Harvard my judo man without my permission or even asking."
And with that proclamation, Kodokan judo quit being of much interest to Seattle’s elite, and instead became something done almost entirely by the sons of Japanese immigrants.
Financial support from the Japanese American National Museum and King County Landmarks and Heritage Commission contributed to the completion of this article.
The assistance of Richard Bowen, Alice S. Creighton (US Naval Academy, Nimitz Library, Special Collections), Wallace Dailey (Harvard College Library, Theodore Roosevelt Collection), Shinji Kozu, William J. Long, Judith Sibley (US Military Academy Archives, Special Collections), Robert W. Smith, and David Waterhouse is also gratefully acknowledged.
EN1. The ideogram used to write Yamashita’s first name could be transliterated as Yoshitsugu, Yoshiaki, or Yoshikazu. In Kodokan documents it is usually transliterated Yoshiaki, but his passport in 1903 read Yoshitsugu.
EN2. The assault was probably politically motivated. In Revue Judo Kodokan, II (September 1952), 125, Kainan Shimomura wrote, "Yokoyama and Yamashita, the pioneers of Judo,
were appointed Professors to the State Police Force, following on a Gala of Budo (martial arts) during which different Schools of Jujutsu opposed one another, but the numerous Societies of the ancient Jujutsu, which continued to exist, despised the ‘Judo of Kodokan’ at the bottom of their hearts. Encounters between Professors of the State were the exception. However
public opinion got so worked up that in January 1891 an inter-group combat took place…"
EN3. On August 31, 1896, the steamer SS Miike Maru became the first NYK ship to enter Puget Sound. The ship carried 186 tons of cargo and one steerage passenger to Seattle and on its return to Japan carried six first-class and 33 steerage passengers. Thus the arrival of the NYK initially reduced Seattle’s Japanese population by 9%! For further
details, see http://seattletimes.nwsource.com/centennial/january/partners.html.
EN4. For details, see "Jiu-Jitsu for Women: Sandow's Magazine," http://ejmas.com/jalt/jaltframe.htm.
EN5. See Stanley Pranin's article at http://omlc.ogi.edu/aikido/talk/osensei/bio/mori4.html
and Joseph Svinth, "Aikido Comes to America, September 1935," at Volume I of Journal of Combative Sport at http://ejmas.com/jcs/jcsframe.htm.
EN6. See, for example, "The Fearful Art of Jiu-Jitsu" by Robert Edgren at http://ejmas.com/jcs/jcsframe.htm.
EN7. In March 1918, Peyton C. March became Chief of Staff, US Army, a position he held until retirement in January 1921. Frank W. Coe became the Chief of Coast Artillery in May 1918, a position he held until retirement in March 1926. For a biographical sketch and portrait
of General March, see http://www.army.mil/cmh-pg/books/cg&csa/March-PC.htm.
EN8. Between 1881 and 1906, sixteen Japanese attended the US Naval Academy. A. Kitagaki, however, failed to gain admission because in 1906 Congress passed laws that prohibited the Academy from accepting foreign students. Robert L. Ghormley of Moscow, Idaho played three years of varsity football at the Academy. He was supreme commander of Allied naval forces during the Guadalcanal campaign of 1943 and retired as a vice admiral in 1946. Philadelphia’s William Burton Piersol was injured while playing football at the Academy and resigned immediately following graduation. He then got a job designing propellers for various marine firms and served as a commander during World War II. Riley Franklin McConnell of Gate City,
Virginia was the heaviest man in his class at the Academy. His sports included football, track, and what the school yearbook, the Lucky Bag, called "jui jitsu." He retired as a commander in 1924. Finally, Schuyler Franklin Heim of Plymouth, Indiana was the Academy lightweight wrestling champion. Lucky Bag 1907 said that Heim looked "like a Jap, and can beat all
comers at the art of Judo, which he asserts is more refined than Jiu Jitsi [sic], because it is sure death." He retired as a commodore in 1946, and is commemorated by the Terminal Island Bridge in Long Island, California that carries his name.
EN9. The Department of the Navy’s subsequent interest in judo dates to February 1943, and a contest in which a 143-pound judoka choked a 200-pound professional wrestler unconscious in 1 minute, 20 seconds. For a description of that contest, see Joseph R. Svinth, "Judo Battles Wrestling: Masato Tamura and Karl Pojello," Furyu, The Budo Journal, 3:2 (Summer/Autumn 1999), 30-36, 72.
Strange and impressive associations rise in the mind of a man from the New World who speaks before this august body in this ancient institution of learning. Before his eyes pass the shadows of mighty kings and war-like nobles, of great masters of law and theology; through the shining dust of the dead centuries he sees crowded figures that tell of the power and learning and splendor of times gone by; and he sees also the innumerable host of humble students to whom clerkship meant emancipation, to whom it was well-nigh the only outlet from the dark thraldom of the Middle Ages.
This was the most famous university of mediaeval Europe at a time when no one dreamed that there was a New World to discover. Its services to the cause of human knowledge already stretched far back into the remote past at a time when my forefathers, three centuries ago, were among the sparse bands of traders, ploughmen, wood-choppers, and fisherfolk who, in hard struggle with the iron unfriendliness of the Indian-haunted land, were laying the foundations of what has now become the giant republic of the West. To conquer a continent, to tame the shaggy roughness of wild nature, means grim warfare; and the generations engaged in it cannot keep, still less add to, the stores of garnered wisdom which where once theirs, and which are still in the hands of their brethren who dwell in the old land. To conquer the wilderness means to wrest victory from the same hostile forces with which mankind struggled on the immemorial infancy of our race. The primaeval conditions must be met by the primaeval qualities which are incompatible with the retention of much that has been painfully acquired by humanity as through the ages it has striven upward toward civilization. In conditions so primitive there can be but a primitive culture. At first only the rudest school can be established, for no others would meet the needs of the hard-driven, sinewy folk who thrust forward the frontier in the teeth of savage men and savage nature; and many years elapse before any of these schools can develop into seats of higher learning and broader culture.
The pioneer days pass; the stump-dotted clearings expand into vast stretches of fertile farm land; the stockaded clusters of log cabins change into towns; the hunters of game, the fellers of trees, the rude frontier traders and tillers of the soil, the men who wander all their lives long through the wilderness as the heralds and harbingers of an oncoming civilization, themselves vanish before the civilization for which they have prepared the way. The children of their successors and supplanters, and then their children and their children and children's children, change and develop with extraordinary rapidity. The conditions accentuate vices and virtues, energy and ruthlessness, all the good qualities and all the defects of an intense individualism, self-reliant, self-centered, far more conscious of its rights than of its duties, and blind to its own shortcomings. To the hard materialism of the frontier days succeeds the hard materialism of an industrialism even more intense and absorbing than that of the older nations; although these themselves have likewise already entered on the age of a complex and predominantly industrial civilization.
As the country grows, its people, who have won success in so many lines, turn back to try to recover the possessions of the mind and the spirit, which perforce their fathers threw aside in order better to wage the first rough battles for the continent their children inherit. The leaders of thought and of action grope their way forward to a new life, realizing, sometimes dimly, sometimes clear-sightedly, that the life of material gain, whether for a nation or an individual, is of value only as a foundation, only as there is added to it the uplift that comes from devotion to loftier ideals. The new life thus sought can in part be developed afresh from what is roundabout in the New World; but it can developed in full only by freely drawing upon the treasure-houses of the Old World, upon the treasures stored in the ancient abodes of wisdom and learning, such as this is where I speak to-day. It is a mistake for any nation to merely copy another; but it is even a greater mistake, it is a proof of weakness in any nation, not to be anxious to learn from one another and willing and able to adapt that learning to the new national conditions and make it fruitful and productive therein. It is for us of the New World to sit at the feet of Gamaliel of the Old; then, if we have the right stuff in us, we can show that Paul in his turn can become a teacher as well as a scholar.
Today I shall speak to you on the subject of individual citizenship, the one subject of vital importance to you, my hearers, and to me and my countrymen, because you and we a great citizens of great democratic republics. A democratic republic such as ours - an effort to realize its full sense government by, of, and for the people - represents the most gigantic of all possible social experiments, the one fraught with great responsibilities alike for good and evil. The success or republics like yours and like ours means the glory, and our failure of despair, of mankind; and for you and for us the question of the quality of the individual citizen is supreme. Under other forms of government, under the rule of one man or very few men, the quality of the leaders is all-important. If, under such governments, the quality of the rulers is high enough, then the nations for generations lead a brilliant career, and add substantially to the sum of world achievement, no matter how low the quality of average citizen; because the average citizen is an almost negligible quantity in working out the final results of that type of national greatness. But with you and us the case is different. With you here, and with us in my own home, in the long run, success or failure will be conditioned upon the way in which the average man, the average women, does his or her duty, first in the ordinary, every-day affairs of life, and next in those great occasional cries which call for heroic virtues. The average citizen must be a good citizen if our republics are to succeed. The stream will not permanently rise higher than the main source; and the main source of national power and national greatness is found in the average citizenship of the nation. Therefore it behooves us to do our best to see that the standard of the average citizen is kept high; and the average cannot be kept high unless the standard of the leaders is very much higher.
It is well if a large proportion of the leaders in any republic, in any democracy, are, as a matter of course, drawn from the classes represented in this audience to-day; but only provided that those classes possess the gifts of sympathy with plain people and of devotion to great ideals. You and those like you have received special advantages; you have all of you had the opportunity for mental training; many of you have had leisure; most of you have had a chance for enjoyment of life far greater than comes to the majority of your fellows. To you and your kind much has been given, and from you much should be expected. Yet there are certain failings against which it is especially incumbent that both men of trained and cultivated intellect, and men of inherited wealth and position should especially guard themselves, because to these failings they are especially liable; and if yielded to, their- your- chances of useful service are at an end. Let the man of learning, the man of lettered leisure, beware of that queer and cheap temptation to pose to himself and to others as a cynic, as the man who has outgrown emotions and beliefs, the man to whom good and evil are as one. The poorest way to face life is to face it with a sneer. There are many men who feel a kind of twister pride in cynicism; there are many who confine themselves to criticism of the way others do what they themselves dare not even attempt. There is no more unhealthy being, no man less worthy of respect, than he who either really holds, or feigns to hold, an attitude of sneering disbelief toward all that is great and lofty, whether in achievement or in that noble effort which, even if it fails, comes to second achievement. A cynical habit of thought and speech, a readiness to criticise work which the critic himself never tries to perform, an intellectual aloofness which will not accept contact with life's realities - all these are marks, not as the possessor would fain to think, of superiority but of weakness. They mark the men unfit to bear their part painfully in the stern strife of living, who seek, in the affection of contempt for the achievements of others, to hide from others and from themselves in their own weakness. The rôle is easy; there is none easier, save only the rôle of the man who sneers alike at both criticism and performance.
It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat. Shame on the man of cultivated taste who permits refinement to develop into fastidiousness that unfits him for doing the rough work of a workaday world. Among the free peoples who govern themselves there is but a small field of usefulness open for the men of cloistered life who shrink from contact with their fellows. Still less room is there for those who deride of slight what is done by those who actually bear the brunt of the day; nor yet for those others who always profess that they would like to take action, if only the conditions of life were not exactly what they actually are. The man who does nothing cuts the same sordid figure in the pages of history, whether he be a cynic, or fop, or voluptuary. There is little use for the being whose tepid soul knows nothing of great and generous emotion, of the high pride, the stern belief, the lofty enthusiasm, of the men who quell the storm and ride the thunder. Well for these men if they succeed; well also, though not so well, if they fail, given only that they have nobly ventured, and have put forth all their heart and strength. It is war-worn Hotspur, spent with hard fighting, he of the many errors and valiant end, over whose memory we love to linger, not over the memory of the young lord who "but for the vile guns would have been a valiant soldier."
France has taught many lessons to other nations: surely one of the most important lesson is the lesson her whole history teaches, that a high artistic and literary development is compatible with notable leadership im arms and statecraft. The brilliant gallantry of the French soldier has for many centuries been proverbial; and during these same centuries at every court in Europe the "freemasons of fashion: have treated the French tongue as their common speech; while every artist and man of letters, and every man of science able to appreciate that marvelous instrument of precision, French prose, had turned toward France for aid and inspiration. How long the leadership in arms and letters has lasted is curiously illustrated by the fact that the earliest masterpiece in a modern tongue is the splendid French epic which tells of Roland's doom and the vengeance of Charlemange when the lords of the Frankish hosts where stricken at Roncesvalles. Let those who have, keep, let those who have not, strive to attain, a high standard of cultivation and scholarship. Yet let us remember that these stand second to certain other things. There is need of a sound body, and even more of a sound mind. But above mind and above body stands character - the sum of those qualities which we mean when we speak of a man's force and courage, of his good faith and sense of honor. I believe in exercise for the body, always provided that we keep in mind that physical development is a means and not an end. I believe, of course, in giving to all the people a good education. But the education must contain much besides book-learning in order to be really good. We must ever remember that no keenness and subtleness of intellect, no polish, no cleverness, in any way make up for the lack of the great solid qualities. Self restraint, self mastery, common sense, the power of accepting individual responsibility and yet of acting in conjunction with others, courage and resolution - these are the qualities which mark a masterful people. Without them no people can control itself, or save itself from being controlled from the outside. I speak to brilliant assemblage; I speak in a great university which represents the flower of the highest intellectual development; I pay all homage to intellect and to elaborate and specialized training of the intellect; and yet I know I shall have the assent of all of you present when I add that more important still are the commonplace, every-day qualities and virtues.
Such ordinary, every-day qualities include the will and the power to work, to fight at need, and to have plenty of healthy children. The need that the average man shall work is so obvious as hardly to warrant insistence. There are a few people in every country so born that they can lead lives of leisure. These fill a useful function if they make it evident that leisure does not mean idleness; for some of the most valuable work needed by civilization is essentially non-remunerative in its character, and of course the people who do this work should in large part be drawn from those to whom remuneration is an object of indifference. But the average man must earn his own livelihood. He should be trained to do so, and he should be trained to feel that he occupies a contemptible position if he does not do so; that he is not an object of envy if he is idle, at whichever end of the social scale he stands, but an object of contempt, an object of derision. In the next place, the good man should be both a strong and a brave man; that is, he should be able to fight, he should be able to serve his country as a soldier, if the need arises. There are well-meaning philosophers who declaim against the unrighteousness of war. They are right only if they lay all their emphasis upon the unrighteousness. War is a dreadful thing, and unjust war is a crime against humanity. But it is such a crime because it is unjust, not because it is a war. The choice must ever be in favor of righteousness, and this is whether the alternative be peace or whether the alternative be war. The question must not be merely, Is there to be peace or war? The question must be, Is it right to prevail? Are the great laws of righteousness once more to be fulfilled? And the answer from a strong and virile people must be "Yes," whatever the cost. Every honorable effort should always be made to avoid war, just as every honorable effort should always be made by the individual in private life to keep out of a brawl, to keep out of trouble; but no self-respecting individual, no self-respecting nation, can or ought to submit to wrong.
Finally, even more important than ability to work, even more important than ability to fight at need, is it to remember that chief of blessings for any nations is that it shall leave its seed to inherit the land. It was the crown of blessings in Biblical times and it is the crown of blessings now. The greatest of all curses in is the curse of sterility, and the severest of all condemnations should be that visited upon willful sterility. The first essential in any civilization is that the man and women shall be father and mother of healthy children, so that the race shall increase and not decrease. If that is not so, if through no fault of the society there is failure to increase, it is a great misfortune. If the failure is due to the deliberate and wilful fault, then it is not merely a misfortune, it is one of those crimes of ease and self-indulgence, of shrinking from pain and effort and risk, which in the long run Nature punishes more heavily than any other. If we of the great republics, if we, the free people who claim to have emancipated ourselves form the thraldom of wrong and error, bring down on our heads the curse that comes upon the willfully barren, then it will be an idle waste of breath to prattle of our achievements, to boast of all that we have done. No refinement of life, no delicacy of taste, no material progress, no sordid heaping up riches, no sensuous development of art and literature, can in any way compensate for the loss of the great fundamental virtues; and of these great fundamental virtues the greatest is the race's power to perpetuate the race. Character must show itself in the man's performance both of the duty he owes himself and of the duty he owes the state. The man's foremast duty is owed to himself and his family; and he can do this duty only by earning money, by providing what is essential to material well-being; it is only after this has been done that he can hope to build a higher superstructure on the solid material foundation; it is only after this has been done that he can help in his movements for the general well-being. He must pull his own weight first, and only after this can his surplus strength be of use to the general public. It is not good to excite that bitter laughter which expresses contempt; and contempt is what we feel for the being whose enthusiasm to benefit mankind is such that he is a burden to those nearest him; who wishes to do great things for humanity in the abstract, but who cannot keep his wife in comfort or educate his children.
Nevertheless, while laying all stress on this point, while not merely acknowledging but insisting upon the fact that there must be a basis of material well-being for the individual as for the nation, let us with equal emphasis insist that this material well-being represents nothing but the foundation, and that the foundation, though indispensable, is worthless unless upon it is raised the superstructure of a higher life. That is why I decline to recognize the mere multimillionaire, the man of mere wealth, as an asset of value to any country; and especially as not an asset to my own country. If he has earned or uses his wealth in a way that makes him a real benefit, of real use- and such is often the case- why, then he does become an asset of real worth. But it is the way in which it has been earned or used, and not the mere fact of wealth, that entitles him to the credit. There is need in business, as in most other forms of human activity, of the great guiding intelligences. Their places cannot be supplied by any number of lesser intelligences. It is a good thing that they should have ample recognition, ample reward. But we must not transfer our admiration to the reward instead of to the deed rewarded; and if what should be the reward exists without the service having been rendered, then admiration will only come from those who are mean of soul. The truth is that, after a certain measure of tangible material success or reward has been achieved, the question of increasing it becomes of constantly less importance compared to the other things that can be done in life. It is a bad thing for a nation to raise and to admire a false standard of success; and their can be no falser standard than that set by the deification of material well-being in and for itself. But the man who, having far surpassed the limits of providing for the wants; both of the body and mind, of himself and of those depending upon him, then piles up a great fortune, for the acquisition or retention of which he returns no corresponding benefit to the nation as a whole, should himself be made to feel that, so far from being desirable, he is an unworthy, citizen of the community: that he is to be neither admired nor envied; that his right-thinking fellow countrymen put him low in the scale of citizenship, and leave him to be consoled by the admiration of those whose level of purpose is even lower than his own.
My position as regards the moneyed interests can be put in a few words. In every civilized society property rights must be carefully safeguarded; ordinarily, and in the great majority of cases, human rights and property rights are fundamentally and in the long run identical; but when it clearly appears that there is a real conflict between them, human rights must have the upper hand, for property belongs to man and not man to property. In fact, it is essential to good citizenship clearly to understand that there are certain qualities which we in a democracy are prone to admire in and of themselves, which ought by rights to be judged admirable or the reverse solely from the standpoint of the use made of them. Foremost among these I should include two very distinct gifts - the gift of money-making and the gift of oratory. Money-making, the money touch I have spoken of above. It is a quality which in a moderate degree is essential. It may be useful when developed to a very great degree, but only if accompanied and controlled by other qualities; and without such control the possessor tends to develop into one of the least attractive types produced by a modern industrial democracy. So it is with the orator. It is highly desirable that a leader of opinion in democracy should be able to state his views clearly and convincingly. But all that the oratory can do of value to the community is enable the man thus to explain himself; if it enables the orator to put false values on things, it merely makes him power for mischief. Some excellent public servants have not that gift at all, and must merely rely on their deeds to speak for them; and unless oratory does represent genuine conviction based on good common sense and able to be translated into efficient performance, then the better the oratory the greater the damage to the public it deceives. Indeed, it is a sign of marked political weakness in any commonwealth if the people tend to be carried away by mere oratory, if they tend to value words in and for themselves, as divorced from the deeds for which they are supposed to stand. The phrase-maker, the phrase-monger, the ready talker, however great his power, whose speech does not make for courage, sobriety, and right understanding, is simply a noxious element in the body politic, and it speaks ill for the public if he has influence over them. To admire the gift of oratory without regard to the moral quality behind the gift is to do wrong to the republic.
Of course all that I say of the orator applies with even greater force to the orator's latter-day and more influential brother, the journalist. The power of the journalist is great, but he is entitled neither to respect nor admiration because of that power unless it is used aright. He cna do, and often does, great good. He can do, and he often does, infinite mischief. All journalists, all writers, for the very reason that they appreciate the vast possibilities of their profession, should bear testimony against those who deeply discredit it. Offenses against taste and morals, which are bad enough in a private citizen, are infinitely worse if made into instruments for debauching the community through a newspaper. Mendacity, slander, sensationalism, inanity, vapid triviality, all are potent factors for the debauchery of the public mind and conscience. The excuse advanced for vicious writing, that the public demands it and that demand must be supplied, can no more be admitted than if it were advanced by purveyors of food who sell poisonous adulterations. In short, the good citizen in a republic must realize that the ought to possess two sets of qualities, and that neither avails without the other. He must have those qualities which make for efficiency; and that he also must have those qualities which direct the efficiency into channels for the public good. He is useless if he is inefficient. There is nothing to be done with that type of citizen of whom all that can be said is that he is harmless. Virtue which is dependant upon a sluggish circulation is not impressive. There is little place in active life for the timid good man. The man who is saved by weakness from robust wickedness is likewise rendered immune from robuster virtues. The good citizen in a republic must first of all be able to hold his own. He is no good citizen unless he has the ability which will make him work hard and which at need will make him fight hard. The good citizen is not a good citizen unless he is an efficient citizen.
But if a man's efficiency is not guided and regulated by a moral sense, then the more efficient he is the worse he is, the more dangerous to the body politic. Courage, intellect, all the masterful qualities, serve but to make a man more evil if they are merely used for that man's own advancement, with brutal indifference to the rights of others. It speaks ill for the community if the community worships these qualities and treats their possessors as heroes regardless of whether the qualities are used rightly or wrongly. It makes no difference as to the precise way in which this sinister efficiency is shown. It makes no difference whether such a man's force and ability betray themselves in a career of money-maker or politician, soldier or orator, journalist or popular leader. If the man works for evil, then the more successful he is the more he should be despised and condemned by all upright and far-seeing men. To judge a man merely by success is an abhorrent wrong; and if the people at large habitually so judge men, if they grow to condone wickedness because the wicked man triumphs, they show their inability to understand that in the last analysis free institutions rest upon the character of citizenship, and that by such admiration of evil they prove themselves unfit for liberty. The homely virtues of the household, the ordinary workaday virtues which make the woman a good housewife and housemother, which make the man a hard worker, a good husband and father, a good soldier at need, stand at the bottom of character. But of course many other must be added thereto if a state is to be not only free but great. Good citizenship is not good citizenship if only exhibited in the home. There remains the duties of the individual in relation to the State, and these duties are none too easy under the conditions which exist where the effort is made to carry on the free government in a complex industrial civilization. Perhaps the most important thing the ordinary citizen, and, above all, the leader of ordinary citizens, has to remember in political life is that he must not be a sheer doctrinaire. The closest philosopher, the refined and cultured individual who from his library tells how men ought to be governed under ideal conditions, is of no use in actual governmental work; and the one-sided fanatic, and still more the mob-leader, and the insincere man who to achieve power promises what by no possibility can be performed, are not merely useless but noxious.
The citizen must have high ideals, and yet he must be able to achieve them in practical fashion. No permanent good comes from aspirations so lofty that they have grown fantastic and have become impossible and indeed undesirable to realize. The impractical visionary is far less often the guide and precursor than he is the embittered foe of the real reformer, of the man who, with stumblings and shortcoming, yet does in some shape, in practical fashion, give effect to the hopes and desires of those who strive for better things. Woe to the empty phrase-maker, to the empty idealist, who, instead of making ready the ground for the man of action, turns against him when he appears and hampers him when he does work! Moreover, the preacher of ideals must remember how sorry and contemptible is the figure which he will cut, how great the damage that he will do, if he does not himself, in his own life, strive measurably to realize the ideals that he preaches for others. Let him remember also that the worth of the ideal must be largely determined by the success with which it can in practice be realized. We should abhor the so-called "practical" men whose practicality assumes the shape of that peculiar baseness which finds its expression in disbelief in morality and decency, in disregard of high standards of living and conduct. Such a creature is the worst enemy of the body of politic. But only less desirable as a citizen is his nominal opponent and real ally, the man of fantastic vision who makes the impossible better forever the enemy of the possible good.
We can just as little afford to follow the doctrinaires of an extreme individualism as the doctrinaires of an extreme socialism. Individual initiative, so far from being discouraged, should be stimulated; and yet we should remember that, as society develops and grows more complex, we continually find that things which once it was desirable to leave to individual initiative can, under changed conditions, be performed with better results by common effort. It is quite impossible, and equally undesirable, to draw in theory a hard-and-fast line which shall always divide the two sets of cases. This every one who is not cursed with the pride of the closest philosopher will see, if he will only take the trouble to think about some of our closet phenomena. For instance, when people live on isolated farms or in little hamlets, each house can be left to attend to its own drainage and water-supply; but the mere multiplication of families in a given area produces new problems which, because they differ in size, are found to differ not only in degree, but in kind from the old; and the questions of drainage and water-supply have to be considered from the common standpoint. It is not a matter for abstract dogmatizing to decide when this point is reached; it is a matter to be tested by practical experiment. Much of the discussion about socialism and individualism is entirely pointless, because of the failure to agree on terminology. It is not good to be a slave of names. I am a strong individualist by personal habit, inheritance, and conviction; but it is a mere matter of common sense to recognize that the State, the community, the citizens acting together, can do a number of things better than if they were left to individual action. The individualism which finds its expression in the abuse of physical force is checked very early in the growth of civilization, and we of to-day should in our turn strive to shackle or destroy that individualism which triumphs by greed and cunning, which exploits the weak by craft instead of ruling them by brutality. We ought to go with any man in the effort to bring about justice and the equality of opportunity, to turn the tool-user more and more into the tool-owner, to shift burdens so that they can be more equitably borne. The deadening effect on any race of the adoption of a logical and extreme socialistic system could not be overstated; it would spell sheer destruction; it would produce grosser wrong and outrage, fouler immortality, than any existing system. But this does not mean that we may not with great advantage adopt certain of the principles professed by some given set of men who happen to call themselves Socialists; to be afraid to do so would be to make a mark of weakness on our part.
But we should not take part in acting a lie any more than in telling a lie. We should not say that men are equal where they are not equal, nor proceed upon the assumption that there is an equality where it does not exist; but we should strive to bring about a measurable equality, at least to the extent of preventing the inequality which is due to force or fraud. Abraham Lincoln, a man of the plain people, blood of their blood, and bone of their bone, who all his life toiled and wrought and suffered for them, at the end died for them, who always strove to represent them, who would never tell an untruth to or for them, spoke of the doctrine of equality with his usual mixture of idealism and sound common sense. He said (I omit what was of merely local significance):
"I think the authors of the Declaration of Independence intended to include all men, but they did not mean to declare all men equal in all respects. They did not mean to say all men were equal in color, size, intellect, moral development or social capacity. They defined with tolerable distinctness in what they did consider all men created equal-equal in certain inalienable rights, among which are life, liberty and pursuit of happiness. This they said, and this they meant. They did not mean to assert the obvious untruth that all were actually enjoying that equality, or yet that they were about to confer it immediately upon them. They meant to set up a standard maxim for free society which should be familiar to all - constantly looked to, constantly labored for, and, even though never perfectly attained, constantly approximated, and thereby constantly spreading and deepening its influence, and augmenting the happiness and value of life to all people, everywhere."
We are bound in honor to refuse to listen to those men who would make us desist from the effort to do away with the inequality which means injustice; the inequality of right, opportunity, of privilege. We are bound in honor to strive to bring ever nearer the day when, as far is humanly possible, we shall be able to realize the ideal that each man shall have an equal opportunity to show the stuff that is in him by the way in which he renders service. There should, so far as possible, be equal of opportunity to render service; but just so long as there is inequality of service there should and must be inequality of reward. We may be sorry for the general, the painter, the artists, the worker in any profession or of any kind, whose misfortune rather than whose fault it is that he does his work ill. But the reward must go to the man who does his work well; for any other course is to create a new kind of privilege, the privilege of folly and weakness; and special privilege is injustice, whatever form it takes.
To say that the thriftless, the lazy, the vicious, the incapable, ought to have reward given to those who are far-sighted, capable, and upright, is to say what is not true and cannot be true. Let us try to level up, but let us beware of the evil of leveling down. If a man stumbles, it is a good thing to help him to his feet. Every one of us needs a helping hand now and then. But if a man lies down, it is a waste of time to try and carry him; and it is a very bad thing for every one if we make men feel that the same reward will come to those who shirk their work and those who do it. Let us, then, take into account the actual facts of life, and not be misled into following any proposal for achieving the millennium, for recreating the golden age, until we have subjected it to hardheaded examination. On the other hand, it is foolish to reject a proposal merely because it is advanced by visionaries. If a given scheme is proposed, look at it on its merits, and, in considering it, disregard formulas. It does not matter in the least who proposes it, or why. If it seems good, try it. If it proves good, accept it; otherwise reject it. There are plenty of good men calling themselves Socialists with whom, up to a certain point, it is quite possible to work. If the next step is one which both we and they wish to take, why of course take it, without any regard to the fact that our views as to the tenth step may differ. But, on the other hand, keep clearly in mind that, though it has been worth while to take one step, this does not in the least mean that it may not be highly disadvantageous to take the next. It is just as foolish to refuse all progress because people demanding it desire at some points to go to absurd extremes, as it would be to go to these absurd extremes simply because some of the measures advocated by the extremists were wise.
The good citizen will demand liberty for himself, and as a matter of pride he will see to it that others receive liberty which he thus claims as his own. Probably the best test of true love of liberty in any country in the way in which minorities are treated in that country. Not only should there be complete liberty in matters of religion and opinion, but complete liberty for each man to lead his life as he desires, provided only that in so he does not wrong his neighbor. Persecution is bad because it is persecution, and without reference to which side happens at the most to be the persecutor and which the persecuted. Class hatred is bad in just the same way, and without regard to the individual who, at a given time, substitutes loyalty to a class for loyalty to a nation, of substitutes hatred of men because they happen to come in a certain social category, for judgement awarded them according to their conduct. Remember always that the same measure of condemnation should be extended to the arrogance which would look down upon or crush any man because he is poor and to envy and hatred which would destroy a man because he is wealthy. The overbearing brutality of the man of wealth or power, and the envious and hateful malice directed against wealth or power, are really at root merely different manifestations of the same quality, merely two sides of the same shield. The man who, if born to wealth and power, exploits and ruins his less fortunate brethren is at heart the same as the greedy and violent demagogue who excites those who have not property to plunder those who have. The gravest wrong upon his country is inflicted by that man, whatever his station, who seeks to make his countrymen divide primarily in the line that separates class from class, occupation from occupation, men of more wealth from men of less wealth, instead of remembering that the only safe standard is that which judges each man on his worth as a man, whether he be rich or whether he be poor, without regard to his profession or to his station in life. Such is the only true democratic test, the only test that can with propriety be applied in a republic. There have been many republics in the past, both in what we call antiquity and in what we call the Middle Ages. They fell, and the prime factor in their fall was the fact that the parties tended to divide along the wealth that separates wealth from poverty. It made no difference which side was successful; it made no difference whether the republic fell under the rule of and oligarchy or the rule of a mob. In either case, when once loyalty to a class had been substituted for loyalty to the republic, the end of the republic was at hand. There is no greater need to-day than the need to keep ever in mind the fact that the cleavage between right and wrong, between good citizenship and bad citizenship, runs at right angles to, and not parallel with, the lines of cleavage between class and class, between occupation and occupation. Ruin looks us in the face if we judge a man by his position instead of judging him by his conduct in that position.
In a republic, to be successful we must learn to combine intensity of conviction with a broad tolerance of difference of conviction. Wide differences of opinion in matters of religious, political, and social belief must exist if conscience and intellect alike are not be stunted, if there is to be room for healthy growth. Bitter internecine hatreds, based on such differences, are signs, not of earnestness of belief, but of that fanaticism which, whether religious or antireligious, democratic or antidemocratic, it itself but a manifestation of the gloomy bigotry which has been the chief factor in the downfall of so many, many nations.
Of one man in especial, beyond any one else, the citizens of a republic should beware, and that is of the man who appeals to them to support him on the ground that he is hostile to other citizens of the republic, that he will secure for those who elect him, in one shape or another, profit at the expense of other citizens of the republic. It makes no difference whether he appeals to class hatred or class interest, to religious or antireligious prejudice. The man who makes such an appeal should always be presumed to make it for the sake of furthering his own interest. The very last thing an intelligent and self-respecting member of a democratic community should do is to reward any public man because that public man says that he will get the private citizen something to which this private citizen is not entitled, or will gratify some emotion or animosity which this private citizen ought not to possess. Let me illustrate this by one anecdote from my own experience. A number of years ago I was engaged in cattle-ranching on the great plains of the western Unite States. There were no fences. The cattle wandered free, the ownership of each one was determined by the brand; the calves were branded with the brand of the cows they followed. If on a round-up and animal was passed by, the following year it would appear as an unbranded yearling, and was then called a maverick. By the custom of the country these mavericks were branded with the brand of the man on whose range they were found. One day I was riding the range with a newly hired cowboy, and we came upon a maverick. We roped and threw it; then we built a fire, took out a cinch-ring, heated it in the fire; and then the cowboy started to put on the brand. I said to him, "It So-and-so's brand," naming the man on whose range we happened to be. He answered: "That's all right, boss; I know my business." In another moment I said to him: "Hold on, you are putting on my brand!" To which he answered: "That's all right; I always put on the boss's brand." I answered: "Oh, very well. Now you go straight back to the ranch and get whatever is owing to you; I don't need you any longer." He jumped up and said: "Why, what's the matter? I was putting on your brand." And I answered: "Yes, my friend, and if you will steal for me then you will steal from me."
Now, the same principle which applies in private life applies also in public life. If a public man tries to get your vote by saying that he will do something wrong in your interest, you can be absolutely certain that if ever it becomes worth his while he will do something wrong against your interest. So much for the citizenship to the individual in his relations to his family, to his neighbor, to the State. There remain duties of citizenship which the State, the aggregation of all the individuals, owes in connection with other States, with other nations. Let me say at once that I am no advocate of a foolish cosmopolitanism. I believe that a man must be a good patriot before he can be, and as the only possible way of being, a good citizen of the world. Experience teaches us that the average man who protests that his international feeling swamps his national feeling, that he does not care for his country because he cares so much for mankind, in actual practice proves himself the foe of mankind; that the man who says that he does not care to be a citizen of any one country, because he is the citizen of the world, is in fact usually and exceedingly undesirable citizen of whatever corner of the world he happens at the moment to be in. In the dim future all moral needs and moral standards may change; but at present, if a man can view his own country and all others countries from the same level with tepid indifference, it is wise to distrust him, just as it is wise to distrust the man who can take the same dispassionate view of his wife and mother. However broad and deep a man's sympathies, however intense his activities, he need have no fear that they will be cramped by love of his native land.
Now, this does not mean in the least that a man should not wish to good outside of his native land. On the contrary, just as I think that the man who loves his family is more apt to be a good neighbor than the man who does not, so I think that the most useful member of the family of nations is normally a strongly patriotic nation. So far from patriotism being inconsistent with a proper regard for the rights of other nations, I hold that the true patriot, who is as jealous of the national honor as a gentleman of his own honor, will be careful to see that the nations neither inflicts nor suffers wrong, just as a gentleman scorns equally to wrong others or to suffer others to wrong him. I do not for one moment admit that a man should act deceitfully as a public servant in his dealing with other nations, any more than he should act deceitfully in his dealings as a private citizen with other private citizens. I do not for one moment admit that a nation should treat other nations in a different spirit from that in which an honorable man would treat other men.
In practically applying this principle to the two sets of cases there is, of course, a great practical difference to be taken into account. We speak of international law; but international law is something wholly different from private of municipal law, and the capital difference is that there is a sanction for the one and no sanction for the other; that there is an outside force which compels individuals to obey the one, while there is no such outside force to compel obedience as regards to the other. International law will, I believe, as the generations pass, grow stronger and stronger until in some way or other there develops the power to make it respected. But as yet it is only in the first formative period. As yet, as a rule, each nation is of necessity to judge for itself in matters of vital importance between it and its neighbors, and actions must be of necessity, where this is the case, be different from what they are where, as among private citizens, there is an outside force whose action is all-powerful and must be invoked in any crisis of importance. It is the duty of wise statesman, gifted with the power of looking ahead, to try to encourage and build up every movement which will substitute or tend to substitute some other agency for force in the settlement of international disputes. It is the duty of every honest statesman to try to guide the nation so that it shall not wrong any other nation. But as yet the great civilized peoples, if they are to be true to themselves and to the cause of humanity and civilization, must keep in mind that in the last resort they must possess both the will and the power to resent wrong-doings from others. The men who sanely believe in a lofty morality preach righteousness; but they do not preach weakness, whether among private citizens or among nations. We believe that our ideals should be so high, but not so high as to make it impossible measurably to realize them. We sincerely and earnestly believe in peace; but if peace and justice conflict, we scorn the man who would not stand for justice though the whole world came in arms against him.
And now, my hosts, a word in parting. You and I belong to the only two republics among the great powers of the world. The ancient friendship between France and the United States has been, on the whole, a sincere and disinterested friendship. A calamity to you would be a sorrow to us. But it would be more than that. In the seething turmoil of the history of humanity certain nations stand out as possessing a peculiar power or charm, some special gift of beauty or wisdom of strength, which puts them among the immortals, which makes them rank forever with the leaders of mankind. France is one of these nations. For her to sink would be a loss to all the world. There are certain lessons of brilliance and of generous gallantry that she can teach better than any of her sister nations. When the French peasantry sang of Malbrook, it was to tell how the soul of this warrior-foe took flight upward through the laurels he had won. Nearly seven centuries ago, Froisart, writing of the time of dire disaster, said that the realm of France was never so stricken that there were not left men who would valiantly fight for it. You have had a great past. I believe you will have a great future. Long may you carry yourselves proudly as citizens of a nation which bears a leading part in the teaching and uplifting of mankind.
Umbrío por la pena, casi bruno,
porque la pena tizna cuando estalla,
donde yo no me hallo, no se halla
hombre más apenado que ninguno.
Pena con pena y pena desayuno,
pena es mi paz y pena mi batalla,
perro que ni me deja ni se calla,
siempre a su dueño fiel, pero importuno.
Cardos, penas me oponen su corona,
cardos, penas me azuzan sus leopardos
y no me dejan bueno hueso alguno.
No podrá con la pena mi persona
circundada de penas y de cardos:
¡cuánto penar para morirse uno!
Llego con tres heridas:
la del amor,
la de la muerte,
la de la vida.
Con tres heridas viene:
la de la vida,
la del amor,
la de la muerte.
Con tres heridas yo:
la de la vida,
la de la muerte,
la del amor.
Ya que para despedirme,
dulce idolatrado dueño,
ni me da licencia el llanto
ni me da lugar el tiempo,
háblente los tristes rasgos,
entre lastimosos ecos,
de mi triste pluma, nunca
con más justa causa negros.
Y aun ésta te hablará torpe
con las lágrimas que vierto,
porque va borrando el agua
lo que va dictando el fuego.
Hablar me impiden mis ojos;
y es que se anticipan ellos,
viendo lo que he de decirte,
a decírtelo primero.
Oye la elocuencia muda
que hay en mi dolor, sirviendo
los suspiros, de palabras,
las lágrimas, de conceptos.
Mira la fiera borrasca
que pasa en el mar del pecho,
donde zozobran, turbados,
mis confusos pensamientos.
Mira cómo ya el vivir
me sirve de afán grosero;
que se avergüenza la vida
de durarme tanto tiempo.
Mira la muerte, que esquiva
huye porque la deseo;
que aun la muerte, si es buscada,
se quiere subir de precio.
Mira cómo el cuerpo amante,
rendido a tanto tormento,
siendo en lo demás cadáver,
sólo en el sentir es cuerpo.
Mira cómo el alma misma
aun teme, en su ser exento,
que quiera el dolor violar
la inmunidad de lo eterno.
En lágrimas y suspiros
alma y corazón a un tiempo,
aquél se convierte en agua,
y ésta se resuelve en viento.
Ya no me sirve de vida
esta vida que poseo,
sino de condición sola
necesaria al sentimiento.
Mas, por qué gasto razones
en contar mi pena y dejo
de decir lo que es preciso,
por decir lo que estás viendo?
En fin, te vas, ay de mi!
Dudosamente lo pienso:
pues si es verdad, no estoy viva,
y si viva, no lo creo.
Posible es que ha de haber día
tan infausto, funesto,
en que sin ver yo las tuyas
esparza sus luces Febo?
Posible es que ha de llegar
el rigor a tan severo,
que no ha de darle tu vista
a mis pesares aliento?
Ay, mi bien, ay prenda mía,
dulce fin de mis deseos!
Por qué me llevas el alma,
dejándome el sentimiento?
Mira que es contradicción
que no cabe en un sujeto,
tanta muerte en una vida,
tanto dolor en un muerto.
Mas ya que es preciso, ay triste!,
en mi infeliz suceso,
ni vivir con la esperanza,
ni morir con el tormento,
dame algún consuelo tú
en el dolor que padezco;
y quien en el suyo muere,
viva siquiera en tu pecho.
No te olvides que te adoro,
y sírvante de recuerdo
las finezas que me debes,
si no las prendas que tengo.
Acuérdate que mi amor,
haciendo gala de riesgo,
sólo por atropellarlo
se alegraba de tenerlo.
Y si mi amor no es bastante,
el tuyo mismo te acuerdo,
que no es poco empeño haber
empezado ya en empeño.
Acuérdate, señor mío,
de tus nobles juramentos;
y lo que juró la boca
no lo desmientan tus hechos.
Y perdona si en temer
mi agravio, mi bien, te ofendo,
que no es dolor, el dolor
que se contiene atento.
Y adiós; que con el ahogo
que me embarga los alientos,
ni sé ya lo que te digo
ni lo que te escribo leo.
SOR JUANA INES DE LA CRUZ
¿Acaso de veras se vive con raíz en la tierra?
Nada es para siempre en la tierra:
Sólo un poco aquí.
Aunque sea de jade se quiebra,
Aunque sea de oro se rompe,
Aunque sea plumaje de quetzal se desgarra.
No para siempre en la tierra:
Sólo un poco aquí
La cebolla es escarcha
cerrada y pobre.
Escarcha de tus días
y de mis noches.
Hambre y cebolla,
hielo negro y escarcha
grande y redonda.
En la cuna del hambre
mi niño estaba.
Con sangre de cebolla
Pero tu sangre,
escarchada de azúcar,
cebolla y hambre.
Una mujer morena
resuelta en luna
se derrama hilo a hilo
sobre la cuna.
que te traigo la luna
cuando es preciso.
Tu risa me hace libre,
me pone alas.
Soledades me quita,
cárcel me arranca.
Boca que vuela,
corazón que en tus labios
Es tu risa la espada
vencedor de las flores
y las alondras.
Rival del sol.
Porvenir de mis huesos
y de mi amor.
Desperté de ser niño:
Triste llevo la boca:
Siempre en la cuna
defendiendo la risa
pluma por pluma.
Al octavo mes ríes
con cinco azahares.
Con cinco diminutas
Con cinco dientes
como cinco jazmines
Frontera de los besos
cuando en la dentadura
sientas un arma.
Sientas un fuego
correr dientes abajo
buscando el centro.
Vuela niño en la doble
luna del pecho:
él, triste de cebolla,
No te derrumbes.
No sepas lo que pasa
ni lo que ocurre.
Como latas de cerveza vacías y colillas
de cigarrillos apagados, han sido mis días.
Como figuras que pasan por una pantalla de televisión
y desaparecen, así ha pasado mi vida.
Como los automóviles que pasaban rápidos por las carreteras
con risas de muchachas y música de radios...
Y la belleza pasó rápida, como el modelo de los autos
y las canciones de los radios que pasaron de moda.
Y no ha quedado nada de aquellos días, nada
más que latas vacías y colillas apagadas,
risas en fotos marchitas, boletos rotos,
y el aserrín con que al amanecer barrieron los bares.
Por más jodido...
siempre puede ser peor.
Dos sujetos entran en un apartamento pequeño, caliente y húmedo, arrastrando un muchacho flaquito y debilucho por los brazos. Adentro, Big Leroy, un negro enorme, sudado, hediondo, con cara de mala gente, palillo en la boca, limpiándose las uñas con un machete de cortar cocos. Uno de los hombres dice:
- Oye Big Leroy, el jefe mandó a que te cojas a este sujeto… Dijo que es para que él aprenda a no querer hacerse el valiente con la gente del barrio.
La víctima grita desesperada e implora por el perdón. Pero Leroy apenas asiente con la cabeza, ignorando los lamentos del hombre:
- Pueden dejarlo ahí en ese rincón, yo me encargo de ese hijo de puta dentro de un momento.
Cuando los dos hombres salen, el muchacho dice:
- Sr. Leroy, por favor, no me haga eso, dé jeme ir que yo no le digo a nadie que usted me dejó ir sin castigo ...
- ¡Cállate la boca y quédate quieto ahí!
Cinco minutos después, llegan los dos hombres arrastrando otro individuo:
- Big Leroy, el jefe mandó que le cortes las dos piernas y le saques los ojos a este elemento para que aprenda a no llevarse el dinero del jefe.
Leroy con voz grave:
- Déjenlo ahí en ese rincón, que ya resuelvo ese asunto.
Poco después llegan los mismos hombres, arrastrando a un tercer muchacho:
- Big Leroy, el jefe dijo que le cortes el pito a este tipo, para que aprenda a nunca mas meterse con la mujer del jefe. ¡Ah!, y dijo que también le cortes la lengua y todos los dedos para que no haya la mínima posibilidad que pueda tocar otra mujer en su vida. Leroy con voz más grave aún:
- Ya resuelvo eso. Ponlo allí en el rincón junto a los otros dos hijos de puta esos.
Cuando se retiran los tipos, el primer muchacho que había llegado primero dice entonces en voz baja:
- Señor Leroy, con todo respeto, sólo para que usted no se vaya a confundir, yo soy al que hay que cogerse… ¿eh?
sin empleo ni puesto y sin un peso.
Sólo poetas, putas y picados
conocieron sus versos.
Nunca estuvo en el extranjero.
Ahora está muerto.
No tiene ningún monumento...
recordadle cuando tengáis puentes de concreto,
grandes turbinas, tractores, plateados graneros,
Porque él purificó en sus poemas el lenguaje de su pueblo,
en el que un día se escribirán los tratados de comercio,
la Constitución, las cartas de amor,
y los decretos.
Jorge Luis Borges
Si pudiera vivir nuevamente mi vida en la próxima trataría de cometer más errores. No intentaría ser tan perfecto, me relajaría más, sería más tonto de lo que he sido, de hecho, tomaría muy pocas cosas con seriedad. Sería menos higiénico.
Correría más riesgos, haría más viajes, contemplaría más atardeceres, subiría más montañas, nadaría más ríos. Iría a más lugares a donde nunca he ido, comería más helados y menos habas. Tendría más problemas reales y menos imaginarios.
Yo fui una de esas personas que vivió sensata y prolíficamente cada minuto de su vida; claro que tuve momentos de alegría, pero si pudiera volver atrás, trataría de tener solamente buenos momentos.
Por si no lo saben, de eso está hecha la vida, sólo de momentos; no te pierdas el ahora.
Yo era uno de esos que nunca iban a ninguna parte sin un termómetro, unas bolsas de agua caliente, un paraguas, un paracaídas; si pudiera volver a vivir viajaría más liviano.
Si pudiera volver a vivir comenzaría a andar descalzo a principios de la primavera y seguiría así hasta concluir el otoño. Daría más vueltas en calesita, contemplaría más amaneceres y jugaría más con los niños, si tuviera otra vez la vida por delante. Pero ya ven, tengo 85 años y me estoy muriendo.
Dos estudiantes de ingeniería estaban caminando por el campus cuando uno de ellos dijo:
- ¿De donde sacaste esa magnifica bicicleta?
El segundo contestó:
- Bueno, Yo estaba caminando por ahí ayer, pensando en mis trabajos, cuando una hermosa mujer apareció sobre esta bicicleta. Tiró la bicicleta al suelo, se saco toda su ropa y dijo: "Toma lo que quieras".
El segundo ingeniero cabeceó afirmativamente:
- ¡Buena elección! La ropa probablemente no te hubiera quedado.
Un arquitecto, un artista y un ingeniero estaban discutiendo acerca de si era mejor pasar el rato con la esposa o con la amante.
El arquitecto dijo que disfrutaba pasar el tiempo con su mujer, construyendo una base sólida, para una relación duradera.
El artista dijo que disfrutaba pasar el tiempo con su amante, porque con ella encontraba pasión y misterio.
El ingeniero dijo:
- A mi me gustan las dos
- ¡¿Las dos?!
- Sí. Si tienes una mujer y una amante, cada una de ellas asumirá que estás con la otra, y puedes ir a la fábrica y dejar el trabajo terminado.
Para el optimista, el vaso está medio lleno.
Para el pesimista, el vaso está medio vacío.
Para el ingeniero, el vaso es el doble de grande de lo que debería ser.
Un ingeniero estaba cruzando una ruta un día, cuando un sapo lo llamó y le dijo:
- Sí me besas, me volveré una hermosa princesa.
El ingeniero se inclinó, tomó el sapo y se lo metió en el bolsillo. El sapo volvió a hablar, y dijo:
- Sí me besas para que me vuelva una hermosa princesa, me quedaré contigo durante una semana.
El ingeniero sacó el sapo del bolsillo, le sonrió y lo volvió a meter en el bolsillo. Entonces el sapo gritó:
- ¡Si me besas y me vuelvo una hermosa princesa, me quedaré contigo y haré ¡CUALQUIER! cosa que quieras!
Otra vez el ingeniero sacó el sapo, le sonrió y lo devolvió al bolsillo. Finalmente el sapo preguntó:
- ¿Qué pasa? Te dije que soy una hermosa princesa, que me quedaré contigo por una semana y haré lo que quieras. ¿Por qué no me besas?
El ingeniero dijo:
- Mirá, soy un ingeniero. No tengo tiempo para chicas, pero un sapo que hable: ¡eso si que es interesante!
las proporciones, el grupo estaría compuesto del modo siguiente:
- 93 hombres,
- 6 mujeres (de las cuales 3 serian lesbianas, una saldría con tu mejor amigo y las otras dos serían feísimas)
- 1 homosexual.
De los 100 ingenieros:
- 95 llevarían gafas
- 89 serían calvos
- 1 sería un ingeniero atípico (alto, guapo y simpático)
- 75 se creerían ingenieros atípicos aun siendo mucho mas feos que los demás.
- 99 hablarían continuamente de computadoras
- 86 hablarían continuamente de mp3
- 78 hablarían continuamente de juegos de computadora
Si se considera el mundo desde esta perspectiva, el deseo de aceptación, comprensión y educación de los ingenieros se convierte en algo claramente fundamental. Tomen en consideración también esto: sí se han despertado esta mañana sin ser ingenieros son afortunados; sí en cambio, sí se han despertado, no son ingenieros y una rubia espectacular esta con ustedes en la cama son particularmente afortunados; sí se han despertado, son ingenieros y una rubia espectacular esta con ustedes en la cama, tranquilos: están soñando.