THE VALUE OF SAINTLINESS
285
army to be too savage, too cruel, too barbarous, than to possess too
much sentimentality and human reasonableness. If the soldier is to
be good for anything as a soldier, he must be exactly the opposite of
a reasoning and thinking man. The measure of goodness in him is
his possible use in war. War, and even peace, require of the soldier
absolutely peculiar standards of morality. The recruit brings with
him common moral notions, of which he must seek immediately
to get rid. For him victory, success, must be everything. The most
barbaric tendencies in men come to life again in war, and for war’s
uses they are incommensurably good.”
1
These words are of course literally true. The immediate aim
of the soldier’s life is, as Moltke said, destruction, and nothing but
destruction; and whatever constructions wars result in are remote
and non-military. Consequently the soldier cannot train himself
to be too feelingless to all those usual sympathies and respects,
whether for persons or for things, that make for conservation. Yet
the fact remains that war is a school of strenuous life and heroism;
and, being in the line of aboriginal instinct, is the only school that
as yet is universally available. But when we gravely ask ourselves
whether this wholesale organization of irrationality and crime
be our only bulwark against effeminacy, we stand aghast at the
thought, and think more kindly of ascetic religion. One hears of
the mechanical equivalent of heat. What we now need to discover
in the social realm is the moral equivalent of war: something heroic
that will speak to men as universally as war does, and yet will be as
compatible with their spiritual selves as war has proved itself to
be incompatible. I have often thought that in the old monkish
poverty-worship, in spite of the pedantry which infested it, there
might be something like that moral equivalent of war which we are
seeking. May not voluntarily accepted poverty be “the strenuous
life,” without the need of crushing weaker peoples?
Poverty indeed is the strenuous life, — without brass bands or
uniforms or hysteric popular applause or lies or circumlocutions;
and when one sees the way in which wealth-getting enters as an
ideal into the very bone and marrow of our generation, one wonders
1
C. V. B. K.: Friedens- und Kriegs-moral der Heere. Quoted by H
AMON
: Psychologie du
Militaire professional, 1895, p. xli.
286
THE VARIETIES OF RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
whether a revival of the belief that poverty is a worthy religious
vocation may not be “the transformation of military courage,” and
the spiritual reform which our time stands most in need of.
Among us English-speaking peoples especially do the praises of
poverty need once more to be boldly sung. We have grown literally
afraid to be poor. We despise any one who elects to be poor in
order to simplify and save his inner life. If he does not join the
general scramble and pant with the money-making street, we deem
him spiritless and lacking in ambition. We have lost the power
even of imagining what the ancient idealization of poverty could
have meant: the liberation from material attachments, the unbribed
soul, the manlier indifference, the paying our way by what we are
or do and not by what we have, the right to fling away our life at
any moment irresponsibly, — the more athletic trim, in short, the
moral fighting shape. When we of the so-called better classes are
scared as men were never scared in history at material ugliness and
hardship; when we put off marriage until our house can be artistic,
and quake at the thought of having a child without a bank-account
and doomed to manual labor, it is time for thinking men to protest
against so unmanly and irreligious a state of opinion.
It is true that so far as wealth gives time for ideal ends and
exercise to ideal energies, wealth is better than poverty and ought
to be chosen. But wealth does this in only a portion of the actual
cases. Elsewhere the desire to gain wealth and the fear to lose it are
our chief breeders of cowardice and propagators of corruption. There
are thousands of conjunctures in which a wealth-bound man must
be a slave, whilst a man for whom poverty has no terrors becomes
a freeman. Think of the strength which personal indifference to
poverty would give us if we were devoted to unpopular causes. We
need no longer hold our tongues or fear to vote the revolutionary
or reformatory ticket. Our stocks might fall, our hopes of promo-
tion vanish, our salaries stop, our club doors close in our faces; yet,
while we lived, we would imperturbably bear witness to the spirit,
and our example would help to set free our generation. The cause
would need its funds, but we its servants would be potent in pro-
portion as we personally were contented with our poverty.
I recommend this matter to your serious pondering, for it is
certain that the prevalent fear of poverty among the educated classes
is the worst moral disease from which our civilization suffers.