MY IMPRESSIONS OF THE MEDICAL PROFESSION
THE INFLUENCE OF HEALTH UPON EDUCATION.
MY INDIAN RESERVATION EXPERIENCE AS A GOVERNMENT MEDICAL ADVISER
[NOTE: This issue was devoted to the Third Annual Reunion of Dr. Tilden’s Health School and various speakers, but no Tilden comments are present. A few readers will find many similarities to the year 2025]
MY IMPRESSIONS OF THE MEDICAL PROFESSION
REV. W. A. WEBSTER
HAVING been requested by Dr. Tilden to give my impressions of the medical profession, I will state that what I may say is no effort to discredit men. Men in the medical profession are striving to be honest. Most of them are endeavoring to aid their patients rather than their bank accounts. Such men learn more through experience than they did in school previously. A physician by the name of Joe Mayes, whom I met in St. Louis, is a striking example of this type of man. He freely acknowledged to me that there was much more in fresh air and good nursing than in medicine. When called in to see a woman whom two other doctors had given up as dying, he had thrown up the windows, changed every environment possible, and said: "Give this woman a chance to live!" The woman lived and was well within a month.
That part of the medical profession that is bound by theories and long and deep-cut channels, not willing to see a new thing, should be turned down by every thoughtful inhabitant of this progressive country. The truth is valuable, regardless of the source from which it comes.
My experiences are the basis of my impressions. My parents were "under the physician's care" most of their lives. Many "practicing physicians" practiced upon my father and mother. Mother was a victim of many assaults. In her early life, she was seriously salivated [mercury] by either an ignorant or a careless physician. She died of measles in her fiftieth year, after having been subjected, during a quarter of a century, to many diseases. If her physicians had known what they pretended to know, or even what she gave them credit for knowing, she would no doubt have been living today.
As a babe, I was "placed under the doctor's care" with many troubles. At the age of three, I hovered between life and death with "typhoid brain fever." In spite of their efforts, I still lived. At the age of sixteen, I was considered a fit subject for the cemetery, being very low with pneumonia. When the neighbors criticized our old family doctor for "allowing me to die without being honest enough to advise my mother of my condition," he came and changed the course of medicine, assuring us that I would fool the people and would get up within a few days. And so I did. My mother had just received the insurance money upon my father's death, and it seemed the old doctor thought that by keeping me down, he would get a big slice of the insurance; but, because of the criticism of the people, I was permitted soon to come back to health.
After my marriage and the coming of children into our home, still more experience came to help form my impressions. My wife was in perfect health until the birth of our first baby. After the doctor had been called, he found occasion to keep coming frequently. As soon as the baby was able to climb up onto a chair, she secured a box of cherries and ate more than half of them—seeds and all—before she was noticed. The same family physician was called, and what the cherries failed to do, he nearly accomplished by his strong medicine. A change of treatment and environment was all that saved her. My wife soon showed the possession of rheumatism in her blood, and physicians and strong medicine turned that malady into valvular heart trouble, from which she never recovered, but became a chronic victim and passed away in the prime of life. Our boy baby was starved on barley water and strong medicine at the age of six months, and is still an unhealthy child.
My recent experiences with Dr. Tilden assure me that he could have prevented all this trouble, had we only been fortunate enough to know and secure him during these eventful and anxious years.
When some little trouble arises, a physician must be called. When he is called, he must "do something." He tries the same remedy on all. When one medicine fails to make an impression, he "tries" something else. If something happens to hit and bring relief, he is a fine doctor; if the patient dies, "the malady could never have been cured anyway."
When I was a young man starting out in life, I clerked in a drug store and was studying medicine with the idea of becoming a physician. I had become well enough acquainted with the business of "druggist" to fill prescriptions and be generally helpful around the store. The owner of the store was a good old doctor, in whom I had great confidence. He always acted the same way with every patient. After hearing the plea of the messenger who came for him to make a hurried call, he would invariably turn to me with these words: "Webster, put up a couple of dozens of those capsules" (which were supposed to contain equal parts of quinine and cayenne pepper). Then he was ready for the ride to the patient. If this remedy failed after several days' trial, and the patient still lived, he would "try something else." Being very conscientious and daily accustomed to these and other similar experiences, I decided not to continue in the medical profession. Fame did appeal to me, but honor and an easy conscience had even a stronger pull. The ideal of "being a rich doctor" also vanished completely.
The impressions from which my convictions are formed have come out of a varied experience in which I have been deeply concerned. While it is the deep and honest desire of men in the profession to "do the best they can," and some of them have befriended me in ways which I can never forget, they are usually compelled to experiment upon the credulous public, and thus become allies of the undertaker and the cemetery corporation. I have become convinced that millions of mounds have been built in the lonely spots of the world by the mistakes of the "well-meaning" medical profession. I am convinced that Dr. Mayes was struggling toward the light and was at least partly right. After having watched and listened to Dr. Tilden now for several months, I am convinced that he is on the real road to health for all who come to him, and that he is all right.
PSYCHOLOGY
PROFESSOR J. S. LANDERS
PSYCHOLOGY is both an old and a new science. It is old in its origin and materials, and new in its development and applications. In its inception, psychology reaches far back in the history of the race, and extends down, with irregular and interrupted advance, to its modern phases, which have attained a wonderful expansion and which have multifarious ramifications. It came first into prominence among the Greeks, who were concerned with its metaphysical aspects. In the medieval period, it was related to religious concepts. In the middle of the seventeenth century, under Descartes, it sprang into considerable importance, and was soon transformed by the Germans into the rational faculty, psychology. Until the nineteenth century, it was merely a branch of metaphysics. In this form, it prevailed until the new empirical and physiological psychology overshadowed it. When the experimental method employed in the psychological laboratory had largely superseded that of introspection, the value in both schools became so evident that a selection was made of the best features, and these were united into one dynamic modern science. In 1892, William James was constrained to say of the situation: "In my humble opinion, there is no 'new psychology' worthy of the name. There is nothing but the old psychology which began in Locke's time, plus a little physiology of the brain and senses, and theory of evolution, and a few refinements of introspective detail."
In a strict sense, there is but one psychology-the science whose province it is to disclose the genesis, structure, and function of mental life. However, there have grown out of the general subject some eight departments or branches: normal, as contrasted with abnormal; adult, in distinction from child or senile; human, as an evolutionary development from animal and plant; and individual, as always more or less modified by social psychology. Moreover, it is observed that a combination of each of the units in the four contrasted pairs with each of the others makes in reality a large number of branches of the subject, as many as there are possible combinations. For example, taking the first division, there is the psychology of the normal, adult human being. Then there is an almost infinite variety of forms, from the psychology of infancy, of childhood, of adolescence, of youth, to age. Likewise, in contrasting human psychology with that of other beings, there are as many types as there are kinds of living beings that possess consciousness; that is, human psychology needs to be contrasted, not with plant psychology alone, but with lichen and volvox, rose and oak; and not with animal alone, but with ameba and euglena, with wasp and amphioxus, with horse and orang-outang. Finally, in contrasting individual psychology with social, many groups appear, making a psychology of the family, of the community, of the city, of the religious denomination, of the political party, of the nation, of the race. Each of these divisions is distinguished from all the others both by its materials and its methods.
This glance at the comprehensiveness of the field of psychology discloses somewhat of the growing importance of the subject. This increasing value may be seen in the modifications that the definition has undergone. During the early period, psychology was defined as the "science of mind." When the subject broadened, the definition was modified to read, "Psychology is the science of consciousness," in which it undertook to explain such things as memories, imaginations, fears, feelings, desires, aversions, impulsions, volitions, and the like. Though the present implications of the science are hard to define, it undoubtedly involves no less than an evolutionary natural history of psychic life, an observation of the behavior of animals and men of all varieties under all possible conditions of health and disease, a full and accurate account of the most fundamental elements of the human constitution, the innate tendencies to thought and action that constitute the native basis of the mind and spiritual nature of man. This more generous conception of psychology prevails today. The mind is no longer considered a mere tabula rasa whose function is to receive impressions from the outer world and to throw imperfect reflections of these impressions, as Locke taught. The strictly individual mind with which the older introspective and descriptive psychology concerned itself is now considered a mere abstraction, and there is increasing recognition of the fact that the adult human mind is very largely the product of the molding influence exerted by the environment, of which the social element is largely the determining factor.
As a science, psychology differs from the so-called natural sciences chiefly in the point of view. The same material is employed in both. Everything that comes within the awareness or consciousness of any individual is material for psychology. The stone, plant, animal, or person in which the student is interested as a study may be considered material for psychology, physics, chemistry, anatomy, or physiology.. The whole world may be viewed either as consciousness or as objects apart from consciousness. The physicists and biologists view their objects as existing apart from and independently of the observer. The psychologist views the same objects as bits of consciousness, and therefore dependent upon the observer. Both views are equally legitimate and useful; for the first gives us a world of objects and events physically existent about us; the second presents a view of the same world as consciousness or experience, objects and events within us; the first is an objective view, the second a subjective one. People differ as to the attitude they assume toward the world. Some are objectivists by nature, the extreme physical scientists who insist that the only proper attitude toward things is the objective one, and the description which physical science gives is the only one worthwhile. Others are subjectivists and see value only in the psychological accounts of the world. Some people have no strong bent toward either view and are able to see the truth from each standpoint. These are undoubtedly right in the contention that things should be studied both physically and psychologically. Yet this belief has in no sense prevailed in the conduct of the two institutions under consideration this afternoon; namely, Education and Medicine (or the preservation of health).
Education, until very recently, has been under the domination of the mentalists, who have considered the child an ethereal being whose mind was to be trained without any consideration that the body might have a connection with that mind, or could possibly have anything to do with its development. The advent of educational psychology is serving to correct this error, and reveals the child as an undeveloped physical being, whose perfect development means the evolving of the psychical life which is potential in the physical, and the development of each is more or less mutually dependent upon the other. "A sound mind in a sound body" is the dictum equally of psychology and of biology. This interpretation of genetic psychology gives new hope to education and future human progress, in that it presents the child's body as potentially psychic, besides being possessed of a group of inherited instincts from its animal as well as human ancestry, all of which may be brought out by ideal development. A child's psychological possibilities are infinite.
Under the old form of education, many of the highest attributes were stifled because unrecognized, and such latent talents were not realized as potentially existing in the body. The poet, the artist, the philosopher, the scientist, the philanthropist, in each child was too frequently allowed to die, rather than to be brought to fruitage. No one disputes the truth of the discovery of psychology that not more than one-tenth of the cells in the cerebral cortex are developed in most persons. What a vision such a psychology holds before education in the endeavor to develop twenty-five or fifty, or possibly ninety or one hundred per cent, of the human possibilities in each individual! Psychology not only announces the desirability of such training, but also points the way faster than education makes ready to traverse it. The subjectivist must join hands with the objectivist, and together they must teach the child, not as a spirit separate from the body, but as a physical and psychical unity, the development of each phase of whose life reacts upon and reinforces the other.
Medicine has chiefly been under the influence of the objectivists. It has mainly been concerned with administering nostrums to the body for the purpose of healing diseases. With the exception of a few physicians who have realized that the state of mind has much to do with the healing process, a certain amount of drugs was prescribed for a specific ailment, regardless of the mental attitude of the patient. A given remedy was supposed to be effective upon the body, whether there was any mind present or not. To most physicians, psychotherapy is an unexplored realm. Today, there is no lack of evidence that we are entering upon a period in which emphasis will be laid on the too-long-neglected psychic factor. Treatment of diseases by influence upon the mind is as old as human history; yet modern medicine has been, until recently, in the hands of those who attached little importance to it. Scientific psychology is undoubtedly to be the handmaid of healing. There is no mental state that does not have its direct and corresponding bodily effect. The mental life is, in the interest of medical treatment, a part of a causal system. The entire psychic personality is a chain of causes and effects, and an individual's physical health is largely determined by their mental attitude or psychic health. Be there much or little truth in them, Christian Science, New Thought, Mental Therapeutics, and a score of other recent adventures in healing point unmistakably to applied psychology as one of the leading factors in a healing regime.
The day of applied psychology is only at the dawn. The science is now recognized as the essential foundation on which ethics, economics, political science, the philosophy of history, sociology, cultural anthropology, religion, law, education, medicine, and all arts must be built. The department of psychology of primary importance is that which deals with the springs of human action-the impulses and motives that sustain mental and bodily activity and regulate conduct. It is not so much the classification of mental states-their analysis into elements, the nature and laws of these elements, ideation, conception, comparison, abstraction-and their relation to one another, that are considered of highest value today; it is the products and results, the way these ideas and beliefs modify action and determine the human understanding, and the relations of men to one another, that are of chief importance. It is with these as mental forces, sources of energy, setting the ends and establishing the course of human activity, that current psychology concerns itself. Since "man is the greatest thing in the world, and mind is the greatest thing in man," what may the race achieve when psychology is fully developed and applied to all the affairs of life? And since the hygiene of the mind must be of equal importance with that of the body, what may not this School for Teaching Health, established to teach the true Philosophy of Health, accomplish in the development and advancement of humanity?
THE INFLUENCE OF HEALTH UPON EDUCATION.
MISS JOHANNA REISS
BY SOME sport of the imagination, our friend, Dr. Tilden, suggested that I should discuss "The Influence of Health upon Education." Will you kindly note that-The Influence of Health upon Education? Wouldn't you think that, coming from Doctor, the subject should rather have been: "The Influence of Education upon Health"? That sounds more like Dr. Tilden. And we know there are precious few among us who, having come under the light of his higher education, have not also experienced a fuller measure of good health. If only he had given me that theme! For I have followed his instructions long enough, and have read enough of his great teachings, to talk on that subject with authority. However, there is also something to be said about the influence of health upon education.
The doctor calls me his "very old friend." I shall therefore avail myself of the privilege of old age and indulge for one brief moment in the relish of reminiscence.
Many, many years ago, when I was teaching in the second grade, I had as a pupil a beautiful little girl named Flora. Her soul was as exquisite as her name. Her eyes were dark and luminous; her hair a dead black; the white, perfect oval of her face was seldom lit with color, save when her refined intelligence responded to some beautiful idea. That response was always tremulous and instantaneous, and illumined her face with a passing radiance.
A few seats away from her sat a colored boy. The number of colored children in our schools is so small that there has been no occasion to provide separate instruction for them; moreover, the kind of negro known to this section of the country seems to be absolutely different from the class that is feared and despised in the South. Well, this lad's name was Asbury, and he was large and bulky for his seven years. His wit was slow, but he knew what he wanted. One day, he sat drooping and inattentive in the front seat. He simply could not keep his place in reading. I called him to me and said: "Asbury, what seems to be the matter with you this morning?" "Aw, Miss Reiss, I ain't well, nohow." been eating something that wasn't good for you," I hinted, taking my clue from the Doctor's course. "No, I ain't," averred my disciple; "I don' eat nuthin' dis mawnin' but bread an' chow-chow." "Is that so? Well," said I, "that accounts for your sleepiness and inattention. Now, Asbury, you take a nice run around the block, and breathe deep, and when you come back, you'll be able to keep your place in the book." But Asbury hung back. "I don' feel right; I can't run now; but I'd shuah feel bettah if you'd let Flora sit in the seat cross the aisle from me."
The children were listening by this time. Flora had heard, and, without noticing my blank expression, she took her reader and moved across the aisle from Asbury. It seems that children of that age are not aware of racial inferiorities; they can appreciate only the excellencies.
The recitation continued, but Asbury, instead of watching his book, was lost in open-mouthed worship of the studious Flora. Finally, I said: "Now, Asbury, read!" Asbury hawed and fumbled; he hadn't the remotest notion of where to take up the thread of the lesson. But the child, Flora—didn't she rise, lay her hand on Asbury's shoulder, and with the other indicate to him the place of the lesson? Neither did she withdraw herself, but held him in this motherly fashion until he had wriggled through his paragraph. Well, I am here to tell you that Asbury was healed of his infirmities and that his improved health reacted vigorously upon his education. But I did take it upon myself to suggest to Asbury's mother a different diet for her boy, and she was both grateful and intelligent enough to avail herself of it. Dr. Tilden agrees with King Solomon that fundamentally there is nothing new under the sun. Whenever I am overcome by a periodic reversion to orthodoxy—what Dr. Tilden would call "reversion to type, bilious diathesis" I go browsing among the books of the Old Testament, usually drawing up at the dietary laws of Moses. I wonder what Moses was thinking of when he laid down those numberless mandates and prohibitions. Did he have in mind merely the physical well-being of a great migratory swarm, or did he realize, with the perspective of the prophet, that sound national health makes for sound national ideals?
Turn with me to the third book of the Pentateuch, usually called Leviticus. His instructions are detailed, though not differentiated up to the point of our present needs. For instance, he tells his people, in effect: "You must not take as food those creatures that subsist on refuse, scum, filth, or carrion of any kind." The Law, whose purpose is so obvious to us today, was not so apparent to that semi-barbarous people. The Amorites and the Hittites, and their other barbarous neighbors, did live on this very diet, and their place shall know them no more. Moses continues: "You may use as food those animals that have cloven feet, and chew their cud, but do not eat those organs whose special function it is to separate the impurities from the blood." To be sure, he did not use the vernacular of the medical profession. He used the language that their oriental imagination could interpret. For instance, he did not say: "Do not drink the blood, and do not eat the fat, and the kidneys, and the midriff of the liver, because they are indigestible, and none too clean;" but he said: "Sacrifice these things unto the Lord and burn them for a sweet savor." And there are regulations of this sort without number.
Now, may I call your attention to the corollary of these food laws? First, he says, in effect: "Eat the things only that are conducive to health;" and then he says: "Only healthy shall be your teachers, your doctors, your ministers, and your lawyers." This is the part that pertains especially to our subject, namely, the influence of health upon education. "If a man has any blemish, let him not approach to offer instruction in the name of Truth." The inference is that his vision is askew; that his perceptions and his interpretations would be affected by his physical limitations. When we think of, shall we say, Schopenhauer, and consider with what a personal seasoning ideas emerged from his mind, we catch the significance of that provision. Of his class, there are many. On the other hand, we could mention thousands who, in spite of great physical disabilities, still had a Titan's grasp on the truth, and do have in this day. But involuntarily, the thought lingers: How much more would they have seen achieved if they had had more perfect health! The truth, if understood, should react upon the teacher; he should be that radiant exemplification through which his message, passing and gathering light, should go forth with more light and a fuller measure of conviction.
Those who subscribe to the theory of evolution will concede that the principles laid down by Moses were not at variance with the laws enunciated by Darwin. In Dr. Tilden's phraseology, "the mind is the flower of the nervous system." Other medical authorities state the same thought somewhat like this: A sound body evolves a sound mind; a sound mind is the sprouting-place of sane ideas and sound ideals.
Whatever the present status of this ancient people that followed Moses out of the wilderness, or whatever their standing in the days of Titus and Tiberius, certain it is that their basic educational code, and many of their ideals, have survived the pillage of the past and are operative among us today. If the Ten Commandments are not our only law, they are as fundamental as ever, though they evolved thousands of years ago by a physically healthy race.
The necessity of building all education-mental training—upon a sound physical basis—is daily gaining more appreciation among our leaders of thought. The effort of the nation, as a whole, has now for years been directed toward improving the physical environment of our school children. Time was when the selection of the teacher was the most important consideration. Now the conditions under which the child is expected to work are receiving equal thought with the choice of the teacher. The frail child of these days is hardly expected to endure the mental training of his sturdier brother.
If Johnny is too sickly to plow and sow and reap and chop wood, we no longer say: "Let us send him to college." We have come to realize that it is the boy with health, with a normal response to his physical environment, with endurance, with a natural appetite, who is also likely to get the most out of a college education.
I wish you could go on a tour with me to inspect some of our modern school equipment. I am sure you would feel convinced that our little Denver town has some conception of the influence of health upon education. The Aaron Gove School, on Fourteenth Avenue and Colorado Boulevard, is one of our most modern buildings and was designed to embody all the latest improvements known to science. On first thought, you would say that our school authorities had gone to extremes in the planning of this school; but when you consider that it is the part of wisdom to try all things first, and then hold to what is best, you will understand why everything that has been recommended as best by experts in school architecture has, in this case, been put to the test. The ventilation of that building is a marvel for its kind. The air that is propelled through the entire building is first passed through water and washed. Since the belief still generally obtains that germs cause disease, or even on the basis that germs function in the development of disease, it has been found feasible to wash the air free from germs. This cleansed air is next heated through furnaces of the most modern type. When this cleansed and heated air is conducted into the classrooms and halls, it is further improved by the addition of vapor, so that the humidity of the air in the schoolroom is approximately that of the atmosphere at sea level. The halls are paved with cement; the rooms are floored with hardwood and kept varnished; the stairways are of steel. Every facility for perfect lighting has been introduced; also, the latest improvements in drinking-fountains, and the most perfect sewerage known to this age.
This is only one of our modern buildings. We have others that are called "open-air schools." The windows of these are built somewhat along the lines found in our sleeping porches, though with such additional means as will enable the entire side and end of the rooms to be flung open to the weather. In some buildings, we have done away with the fixed seats and desks. The child in his normal state is ever active, and the more we are able to adapt school methods to the models held up by nature, the greater our hope of producing a child in the image of perfection.
Have you seen our public parks and playgrounds? The welfare of the child was the prime motive in the establishment of these. Every school in the city is equipped, not only with playground devices, but with playground teachers and supervisors. It is great fun to watch the proceedings at one of these places. To work off some of their pent-up energy, the children are stimulated to take part in all kinds of vigorous play. They play hard and they play fair, with the teacher to be judge if necessary; and when the youngsters are good and ready to sit down, behold, a lady from the library comes along out of a clear sky, settles the band around her in comfortable positions, and begins to unfold the most magical stories out of the depths of the earth, out of the mysteries of the heavens, out of the silent glow of the past. Are the children nervous? No. Are they fidgety, and do they sigh for the happy end? No. They are so still, so enraptured, so tense, that, in a manner, one can feel the throb of the mental pulse. Very few are the children who forget the stories they hear after their play.
One of the attractions of the fashionable Capitol Hill district is the gymnastic period of the Clayton School, on Twelfth Avenue and Columbine Street. Promptly at a quarter past two every day, provided a blizzard is not blowing, between five hundred and six hundred children march out upon the school ground to the beat of a drum. First it is a grand march; then the different grades find their respective plots on the grounds; the room leaders take charge, and, at a given signal, the twelve groups, comprising the whole school, start out, swinging Indian clubs, thrusting dumb-bells, taking every pose and attitude in free calisthenics, swaying wands, and going through every graceful variation of limb and body. The color guards, with Old Glory waving, march in and out among the groups, the exemplification of military precision and stern watchfulness; for among their manifold duties is one which lends them a very solemn dignity: they are the guardians of the school law. They are only boys, you know; but woe betide any malefactor among the drilling six hundred! There is no evasion of the law. With inexorable certainty, they spot the miscreant, form a circle around him, and, without having uttered a word, escort him to the bull-pen (an imaginary circle bounded by the principal's eagle eye). It is great fun, if I do say so as oughtn't. Men and women, in automobiles and afoot, come from a considerable distance to witness the solemn rites, and do not leave until the little bugler of the guard calls the colors in and the lines form for the return march.
Is it necessary to say that both the children and the teachers are brighter, rosier, and more receptive after this intermission? A break like this in the day's work has headed off many a problem of discipline, because it has headed off nervousness and inattention.
The North Side High School has a swimming pool in connection with its gymnasium. And thus I could enumerate scores of accessories that have been introduced for the physical and mental health of our future citizens.
One of these days our classes in domestic science, which are now so industrious and faithful in adhering to the old line of thought, with all its wonderful combinations of food and drink, will seek and gain more light from one of the great teachers of our day-from our big leader and expert, and that authority in our very midst, whose works are steadily gaining recognition, because he is able to prove with results the value of the laws that he enunciates. On that day, because we shall be a healthier nation, we shall also be a wiser nation—a nation that shall evolve a great code of truth and justice for the future generations.
DISEASED PATRIOTISM
SYNOPSIS OF ADDRESS BY CARLE WHITEHEAD
WE HAVE a good deal now of what is called patriotism, a great deal of which, if it is patriotism, is diseased patriotism. If I give any definitions or advance any ideas tonight, they will be my own, and no one else is responsible for them.
Patriotism is thinking or doing that which will tend toward the ultimate good of the country of which you are a citizen. It is necessary to decide, therefore, what the ultimate good of this country is, before we can determine what is patriotic.
I say frankly that the sentiment so frequently quoted: "My country, may she ever be right; but my country, right or wrong," does not appeal to me. I place right before country, and do not accept the dictates of governments or rulers as to what is right. Nothing can be right to me except what appeals to my conscience.
I am not pro-German. I am for humanity. I see no difference between people merely because they dwell upon opposite sides of a natural boundary line. For me, it would be just as hard to shoot a German as it would be to shoot an American. That does not mean that I am in sympathy with German methods, although many, perhaps, would so construe such a statement.
We have come to the point where a great many people, some honestly, some because they believe it is the conventional attitude—take the position that any person who does not wholeheartedly support the government in everything it proposes, sacrificing, if necessary, the individual's convictions to the government's plans—is with the enemy.
My view is that any country in which freedom of thought, conscience, and expression is suppressed is without hope. A government founded on anything except honesty of the individual cannot successfully govern a country—cannot produce a country worth living in. An individual afraid to speak his convictions honestly is not honest, and a country made up of individuals afraid to give expression to their thoughts will not be a country worth living in, whether it is Germany, the United States, or England. I have no desire whatever to fight-physically, mentally, or in any other way for any country that is not going to be worthwhile when the fight is won. By that, I do not mean that I hope the United States will be whipped in the war. I am not discussing the outcome of the war, but what our attitude should be while the war is on.
With all her faults, Germany provided for her people in such a way that there was practically no poverty in Germany, and German cities, according to reports brought back by Mayor Speer, are the best-governed on the face of the earth. Germany, years ago, put into effect old-age pensions, workmen's compensation, and a number of other measures which many sections of this country have since adopted, and which other sections of this country are now conceding as necessary measures to be adopted. Because Germany cared for the welfare of her people as she did, is the only reason that today she can hold her people together to carry on the fight against England and France. Germany's solidarity in this war is evidence that the German people realize that the German government has truly cared for their welfare. As to the attitude of the Kaiser, of course, I have nothing to say.
My personal belief is that no good has ever followed war, or the use of personal violence in any form, that would not have come quicker and with less expense by other means. I believe that at the time of the Civil War, if the people could have only thrown aside the heat of the fight and calmly followed the advice of Lincoln (who did not force them into war, but did everything he could to prevent it), slavery would have been abolished, if not in a shorter time, at least in a comparatively short time, at a cost infinitely less than the cost of the Civil War, without that enormous loss of blood, and, what is even greater than that, without that bitterness that the war occasioned—which exists even to this day in some sections of the country.
We have the idea that, because we broke away from England and established a government of our own, we gained liberty and freedom for all time. There is no such thing as a cure-all in national, industrial, or economic affairs, any more than there is in our physical affairs. What you get, you have to work for, and when you get it, you have to keep working to keep it.
I feel that we are in great danger at the present time of losing a good share of the liberty and freedom of which we have boasted in this country. I will go further and say that our boast, many times, has been without foundation.
I will give you a few illustrations of that. Before I do, however, let me say this: You can treat this question of freedom of speech purely as a matter of policy, just a question of what is good business for the community. You do not have to involve religion or anything else in it—it is just a question of what is good business management of the community.
About two years ago, there were about thirteen members of the International Workers of the World in our city jail—and twenty-seven more in the county jail—held on charges, generally, of vagrancy.
The I. W. W.'s had been holding street meetings, and the effort of the police was to stop this street speaking. They knew they had no authority to do so, so they filed these vagrancy charges. When the representatives of the Free Speech League of New York took this matter up, for the purpose of testing in the courts the right of freedom of speech on the streets, the Denver police officials were willing to have a conference over the matter. As a result of that conference, in about twenty-four hours, all of the men were out of jail, and the city authorities reached an agreement that speaking should be allowed on four specified corners; and it has continued, I guess, for a couple of years, with practically no more trouble. But the city authorities only agreed to this when convinced that behind the demand for free speech were people who had the ability to see the matter through, and who intended to make a test of the authorities' assumption of the right to stop speaking on the streets. Every community must have a safety valve. If you say to the people: "You cannot talk unless you say just what we want you to say;" if you do not allow talking in public, people are going to talk in private, and will hatch up something that will cause trouble. It is a trait in human nature that the individual wants to express himself, and if he cannot express himself by talking, he will do it by acting. A good deal of the safest way is to allow him to express himself by talking. In the large majority of cases, the man allowed to talk freely works off his excess energy in that way and will not have any to expend on dangerous actions.
A lot of the things we call patriotism at the present time are nothing more or less than this same suppression, without looking to the ultimate good of this country. A great deal of it is nothing else than stirring up hatred and animosity. Dr. Tilden can tell you what effect that has on the individual and what individuals will do when they get into that condition.
There is a report in the paper this morning from Chicago that in some of the books used in their schools is a story that says something good about the Kaiser. It has been in the books a good while, and somebody just discovered it. They are getting up a movement now to have a great, big patriotic celebration after school opens, and they will have all the children open the books and tear out the page that relates to the Kaiser. If our patriotism has nothing higher to brag of than busying itself with such things, it is diseased, and badly diseased; so we had better find out what the trouble is, and get a patriotism that is worthwhile.
Has it occurred to you that much of what passes for patriotism in this country is, in fact, commercialism? For a good many years, the chairman of the Military Affairs Committee of the United States Senate was a man by the name of Du Pont—one of the Du Ponts who manufacture explosives. There was an investigation of the powder trust in the federal courts about ten or fifteen years ago. Two documents were introduced as evidence then, and remain on the court records at this time. These two documents bear the signature of this man, Du Pont. One of these documents was an international agreement between the manufacturers of explosives. By that agreement, the principal manufacturers of explosives the world over agreed that whenever any manufacturer submitted a bid on explosives to their government, no foreign manufacturer of explosives would submit a bid to that government without first communicating with the manufacturers in that country, and then the foreign manufacturer agreed not to underbid. In that same agreement, practically the whole world was divided into districts, and the trade of the various districts was assigned to the several manufacturers. The chairman, the man at the head of our Senate Military Affairs Committee, was a party to this agreement.
The other document—an agreement between the Du Ponts and one of the German powder manufacturers required the Du Ponts to disclose to the German manufacturer all of the terms of any contract entered into with the United States government, including the quantity to be furnished, the quality of it, the price of it, and where and when it was to be delivered. Thus, the German government knew every pound of powder we had, what its qualities were, and where it was. Tell me how much of that is patriotism and how much is commercialism!
I am not advising any individual what to do under present conditions; every individual must assume that responsibility himself. I am not advocating opposition to the war or the draft. I am not talking about that. I am talking of absolute honesty of thought and freedom of expression, regardless of whether it hits governments or individuals. I do not believe we shall ever have a country worth living in unless we do have freedom of thought and expression; and, therefore, anything that attempts to suppress freedom and honesty of thought and expression is not patriotism at all, because it does not tend to promote the ultimate good of this country, or to make it a place worth living in.
I do not condemn people who hold different views from those I hold. I can illustrate my position in that regard by a recent occurrence:
The Bar Association of Denver appointed a committee to see that the practice of those lawyers who enlisted in the war should be taken care of so that the business might be saved for them, and the proceeds of the business would go to their families. The committee called upon all lawyers to volunteer their services. I wrote to them that my beliefs would not permit me to enlist in this, or any other, war, but, nevertheless, I respected another man's convictions when they differed from mine; so, if any attorney enlisted voluntarily in the war, I took it that he did so from his own convictions, and if I could be of assistance in taking care of his business to help him and his family while he was away, I was at the service of the committee.
I feel that a great many people are absolutely afraid at the present time to speak their own thoughts and convictions, and I cannot imagine any condition that is worse for this country than that.
I have endeavored to make my position clear, hoping thereby to help others see the matter from that point of view. If I have given you anything new to think about, or strength to speak what you believe and feel, I shall feel that I have accomplished a purpose.
LINES TO DR. TILDEN'S SCHOOL
MYRTIE E. SEYMOUR
AS A preface to my "Lines," I want to give you a brief sketch of my experiences with sickness, to show you why I am glad of a chance to write "Lines to Dr. Tilden's School."
The first sickness of which I have any remembrance was when I was quite young (it being summer), and the disease was called "diphtheritic sore throat." The doctor called was a neighbor of ours, a man just in his prime, in whom my father had great confidence. The place was Litchfield, Ill. The name of the doctor was J. H. Tilden.
Had Dr. Tilden practiced then the same kind of treatment he does now, I would never have had the long years of sickness which I have. But, as he did not remove the cause, I kept on having attacks of throat trouble, until finally I was sent to Texas, as the doctors said I was developing lung trouble. When examined there, the doctor said I should need to stay two years for a cure, and I stayed. During that time, I had a spell of typhoid fever and a slight operation which they said would cure me. But was I cured? Indeed, no, I was not. I tried doctors of all schools, and specialists; had a tonsil and a fungus growth removed from my throat, and a spur from my nose; as a result of which I have never had a keen sense of smell, and have had tonsilitis several times; proving Dr. Tilden's theory regarding removal of any part of the anatomy.
As a result of all these troubles, I finally had asthma. Anyone who knows anything about asthma knows what a distressing disease it is, and I had been told by many doctors that it was not curable.
It is said: "Every cloud has a silver lining." My dark cloud of sickness began to turn inside out and show the lining two years ago, last February, when I came to see Dr. Tilden. His cordial greeting, hearty handshake, kind smile, and reference to my dear mother, I shall never forget. I had the utmost confidence in him at once. That confidence I still have, for I began improving from the
first. Though the doctor said it would take two years for a cure, I went through the next winter without asthma, tonsilitis, or grippe, something I had not done for twenty-five years.
Is it any wonder that I am an enthusiast for the system? As Dr. Tilden is so modest about any boosting, I think he has been rather ashamed of my enthusiasm at times, but I feel that any cause which has stood the test, and is philanthropic, should be known, and I am always glad to give my little word to help. My theory is: If you know a good thing, push it along. So, you see, my first and last doctor was the founder of this School; and "old friends, like old swords, are trusted best."
It seems hardly fitting to finish anything regarding the Tilden School without something in the way of diet; so I will just give a small piece of toast:
Here's to Dr. Tilden's School!
May it prosper right along,
Till the principles for which it stands
Are realized full strong!
May the star which guides its leader
Keep ahead and always bright,
Till the people grasp its message
And learn to live just right!
FACING FACTS
SYNOPSIS OF ADDRESS BY ALBERT L. VOGL
THE importance of fearlessly facing facts is well illustrated in the incidents preceding the present European war. The tremendous increase in the German army accomplished by the bill of February 1913 left no doubt in the minds of diplomats that Germany was preparing for war. Germany's action was followed in France, on March 4, by the extension of the period of army training from two to three years; and in July of the same year, Russia increased its term of military service from three to three and one-quarter years. Similar changes were made by the Austrian and Balkan governments. In June 1914, the Kiel Canal, enlarged to permit the passage of dreadnoughts, was opened. It was obvious to all students of European international politics that the time for Germany to strike was in the summer of 1914, because another year's delay would see France and Russia reaping the benefit of their increased army bills. M. Sazanov and M. Poincaré, on behalf of Russia and France, urged Sir Edward Grey to recognize the fact that Germany wanted war, and to inform Germany that, if it declared war, England would not remain neutral. The English government at that time was under the control of Asquith. Asquith is a brilliant lawyer, well trained in oratory and verbal gymnastics, but with the lawyer's habit of taking appeals and continuances, hoping by such means to avoid having to decide definitely upon any issues. His policy did not even reach the dignity of "watchful waiting,” but was a constant prayer of, “Let nothing happen in our time, O Lord, we beseech Thee!" The facts of the developments in the international situation were well known to Grey, who was the dean of the European diplomats, but under Asquith's leadership, he was bound to refuse to take a decided stand, and Germany, interpreting his indecision as weakness, commenced the war. All students now concede that if Germany had been definitely advised that England would not be neutral, it would not have declared war at that time.
There are some facts that America needs to face at this time. A few years ago, in Atlanta, Georgia, respectable American citizens took Leo Frank from the jail and hanged him on a tree by the roadside. A few weeks ago, respectable white people in East St. Louis burned the homes of the colored people in that city and shot down many of the colored folk, A few days ago a man named Little, in Butte, Mont., was taken from his home at midnight by citizens and lynched; and only two days ago a candidate for mayor in the city of Evansville, Ind., escaped death by the hands of respectable citizens only by the aid of a powerful automobile. These lynchings are not confined to the South, as the above instances show, but extend from the South to the Northwest. All these happened in a country where the constitution provides: "No person shall be deprived of life, liberty, or property without due process of law."
The civilized world was shocked when advised that the German chancellor had referred to a treaty as "a scrap of paper," and that remark is constantly being referred to as evidence of the decay of moral principles in Germany. Those who perpetrated the outrages referred to in America are treating our constitution as a mere "scrap of paper."
A United States court has recently sentenced several people to jail for having criticized the conscription bill. Our constitution provides that Congress shall make no law abridging the right of the people peaceably to assemble and petition the government for a redress of grievances. Whatever we may think of the wisdom or otherwise of the conscription bill, there can be no doubt of the right of those opposed to it peaceably to assemble, discuss it, and, if they so desire, prepare and circulate petitions to the government to have the bill repealed. No government should take the important step of declaring war unless it is convinced that it can defend its position before the public at large. The fact that the government has passed the bill must, therefore, be taken as proof that the government believes that it can convince the public of its necessity, and if the government would employ its best speakers to go out and frankly present to the people the facts which made necessary the passage of the bill, it could unquestionably secure the almost unanimous support of the people. It only weakens its position when it refuses to permit discussion of these matters and attempts by imprisonment to stifle such discussion.
In 1912, the attorney-general of the United States wrote a letter to the president of the United States recommending the pardon of two men for land frauds in Oregon. The methods adopted by the United States special prosecutor and William J. Burns were of such an outrageous character that no self-respecting executive could for a moment sanction the punishment of individuals whose convictions had been secured by such methods. Notwithstanding the fact that considerable publicity was given to this letter of Attorney-General Wickersham, Mr. Burns's agency is still recognized as one of the leading detective agencies of this country, and he is still invited to give advice to the young people of this country in magazines and from the platform. In any other civilized country, the exposure of such methods as those in the Oregon land fraud cases would have resulted in the elimination of their perpetrators from public life for the future.
In almost every civilized country, the citizen who fails to pay his honest debts and goes through bankruptcy proceedings is ineligible for public office until he has paid the debts to avoid which he went into bankruptcy. In this country, the failure to pay private debts does not in any way disqualify a man for public office.
Recent instances of actions of the government in regard to contracts for supplies indicate that even at the present time, government officials have not risen above the old system of treating contracts as legitimate weapons to be used for partisan purposes. These instances show a lack of moral principle permeating American life, which lack is not restricted to any particular class, but is characteristic of all.
There is no science of international diplomacy, and no writer has ever yet attempted to evolve such a science. The writings of diplomats like Bismarck, Hohenlohe, and Palmerston are merely personal memoirs that emphasize that foreign policies in the past have been the whims and caprices of diplomats. This lack of any scientific principle underlying foreign policies will be one of the dominating features characterizing the debates in the peace conference following the present war. As a general rule, wars are no longer made for conquest; the struggle of financiers now is to secure profitable concessions from small nations having concessions to give or industries to be developed. These financiers always expect their governments to enforce the performance of these contracts by diplomatic means, and if necessary, by military force. American capital has now embarked upon this sea of foreign investment. The lack of moral principle so evident in American business life suggests that the contracts with smaller governments made by American financiers will be just as inequitable as those heretofore made by European investors.
If America is really in this war to make this world "safe for democracy," America must demand that honesty shall be the keynote of its business life, and announce to the world that no contract made by its financiers will be supported by the government unless such contracts are first approved and sanctioned by its foreign office, and then carried out in such a way as to satisfy that foreign office that the small nation has been honorably dealt with.
Whether the world will be safe for democracy at the close of this war will depend upon whether those who formulate the peace treaty are representative of nations which stand for honesty in business, or whether they represent nations whose laws, constitutions, and treaties are only "scraps of paper" when convenience or public passion suggests such a course as expedient. Unless the American character is developed by stern adherence to our laws and our constitution, the voice of our representatives around the peace conference table will have little influence in framing a treaty that will really make democracy possible among the nations of the world.
MY INDIAN RESERVATION EXPERIENCE AS A GOVERNMENT MEDICAL ADVISER
DR. F. E. KEEP
DURING our early school days, we all became familiar with the history of the North American Indians; so I will just say a few words on that part of the Indian history. When the first European explorers visited the Atlantic coast of North America, they found it occupied by roving tribes unlike Europeans. They were of a copper color, with high cheekbones, small black eyes, and straight hair. They called themselves by various names in different parts of the country, but they belonged to two great families-the Algonquins and the Iroquois; these latter being commonly called the "Six Nations." The Europeans named them all "Indians." All our Indian history has been handed down from father to son; for the Indian has no written language, but he has a way of communicating with others by signs on rocks and trees.
The tribes differ very much in respect to their modes of life. Some are warlike, others peaceful. The Indians of today have many of the traits of their ancestors.
The Indians today number about 335,000 within the limits of the United States, and, as a whole, are civilized. About 175,000 are still on the different reservations and are under direct care of the government. The other 160,000 have received deeds to their lands and are citizens and freeholders of the commonwealths in which they live. Many are prosperous, having well-improved farms, herds of cattle, horses, etc.
The food of the uncivilized Indians was very simple. It consisted of what they obtained by hunting and fishing. They used very few vegetables and fruit. They used tobacco, but no intoxicants [Dr. Keep may not have known of peyote] until liquor was introduced to them by the white man. The Indians of today use the same rations as the white man and are subject to the same diseases as the white man.
I can now see what Dr. Tilden's Philosophy of Health would do for these aborigines if it were taught to them. The Indian has great courage and self-control, and, after once understanding the diet system and the golden rules, he would have become a very obedient patient.
You have perhaps been told that the Indian woman is a slave to her husband. This is not true. She has her work to do, and he has his. The Indian seldom speaks crossly to his wife and children.
The Indian baby is called a "papoose." When the mother is traveling, she hangs it on her back. When it has grown large enough, it helps her gather sticks and wood for fire, and berries for food. The Indian child is taught to swim, to run, and to climb very early; also taught to track small animals and set traps.
The first years of the Indian girl are spent in much the same manner as those of the boy. Later, she learns to prepare skins for moccasins and to do beadwork.
The government furnishes a very good school system for the Indians. The best instructors in all branches, from kindergarten to high school, are supplied. Many of my Indian friends and acquaintances have been good students; they have gone through the Indian schools, and are now making good in law, medicine, and other lines requiring an education.
The religion of the Indians is very curious. They worshiped their dead ancestors, the Sun, the Winds, and the Lightning. Since the Lightning is likened to a moving snake, they respected the snake, and many tribes would not kill one. They believed in a Great Spirit, and they also believed that every man, hill, tree, lake, and animal had a spirit. Some of these spirits are good and some are bad; some are helpful to man and some will injure him. If the Indian falls sick, it is because an evil spirit has entered his body.
In every tribe, there are medicine men who are supposed to have power over bad spirits. It is their custom to go into the house, or wigwam, where the sick are, and shout, scream, and repeat some magic word which is supposed to drive out the evil spirit. If the sick die in spite of the medicine man, it is because the Great Spirit called for the sick one to come to the spirit world. [The white man declares that "the Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away-blessed be the name of the Lord."-ED.] With the body are buried weapons, food, and drink, which they think will be of use in the next world. A dog is often buried with a little child, so that the child may have help in finding its way in the spirit world.
Only the non-progressive believe in these superstitions today. Very few Indians—indeed, none of the educated class believe in these old customs.
All church denominations have missions on the reservations, and many are self-supporting.
It will not be many years more that the Indian will be a ward of the government; for as fast as he proves himself worthy, he is given a deed to his land, and then has to pay taxes on all property, the same as the white man.
A LETTER
Dear Dr. Tilden: Your magazine is growing better and better. You are doing an inestimable service to humanity. Your articles on baby-feeding are, to my mind, wonderfully and scientifically correct. If the millions of good mothers who stuff their babies to death could only read and practice them!
I suppose you have noticed the tremendous arraignment of the accursed doctors by Bernhard Shaw, which has been running in recent issues of Physical Culture. When will the people wake up?
Overeating is ruining the race, and the shepherds of the flock will not inform the people. They are so infamously ignorant! I give you my right hand, Tilden. You are O. K.!—Yours very truly, E. M. C.