food, clothing, and domestic habits; and over the multitudinous processes carried on by producers and distributors, constituting immensely the larger part of our social activities, we no longer believe that legislative dictation is beneficial. Moreover, every newspaper, by its criticisms on the acts of ministers and the conduct of the House of Commons, betrays the diminished faith of citizens in their rulers. Nor is it only by contrasts between past and present among ourselves that we are shown this trait of a more developed industrial state. It is shown by kindred contrasts between opinion here and opinion abroad. The speculations of social reformers in France and in Germany prove that the hope for benefits to be achieved by state-agency is far higher with them than with us.
Along with decrease of loyalty and concomitant decrease of faith in the powers of governments has gone decrease of patriotism—patriotism, that is, under its original form. To fight "for king and country" is an ambition which nowadays occupies but a small space in men's minds; and though there is among us a majority whose sentiment is represented by the exclamation, "Our country, right or wrong!" yet there are large numbers whose desire for human welfare at large so far overrides their desire for national prestige that they object to sacrificing the first to the last. The spirit of self-criticism, which in sundry respects leads us to make unfavorable comparisons between ourselves and Continental nations, leads us more than heretofore to blame ourselves for wrong conduct to other peoples. The denunciations uttered by many on our dealings with the Afghans, the Zooloos, and the Boers, show that there is a large amount of the feeling reprobated by the "Jingo"-class as unpatriotic.
That adaptation of individual nature to social needs which, in the militant state, makes men glory in war and despise peaceful pursuits, has partially brought about among us a converse adjustment of the sentiments. The occupation of the soldier has ceased to be so much honored, and that of the civilian is more honored. During the forty years' peace, the popular sentiment became such that "soldiering" was spoken of contemptuously; and those who enlisted, habitually the idle and the dissolute, were commonly regarded as having completed their disgrace. Similarly in America before the late civil war, such small military gatherings and exercises as from time to time occurred, excited general ridicule. Meanwhile, we see that labors, bodily and mental, useful to self and others, have come to be not only honorable, but in a considerable degree imperative. In America the adverse comments on one who does nothing, almost force him into some active pursuit; and among ourselves the respect for industrial life has become such that men of high rank put their sons into business.
While, as we saw, the compulsory coöperation proper to militancy forbids, or greatly discourages, individual initiative, the voluntary cooperation which distinguishes industrialism gives free scope to
