"As to the land—neglect, waste, awful, glaring waste," she answered promptly. "It makes me sick. It makes me want to cry. As a mere wilderness, of course, it would be interesting, but as a wilderness with a hundred million people in it, and such able people, I don't know whether it is more laughable or horrible. As to the water, neglect and waste again, and hideous, suicidal defilement.
"As to means of communication " words failed her. "You know how I feel about your roads, and the city streets are worse. One would think to see the way you rip up and lay down in your cities that an organized group of human habitations had never been built before. Such childish experiments. Over and over and over. Why a city, Van, is no new thing. It can be foreseen and planned for. That was done in ancient Egypt, in Assyria, and today, with all you know, with the whole past to learn from Van, as I come into your cities, by rail, and see the poor, miserable, dirty, unhealthy things it makes me feel al- most as badly as those European battlefields. They are at least trying to kill one another; you are doing it unconsciously. A city should be the loveliest thing. Why you remember—oh, Van!"
For the moment homesickness overcame her. I did remem- ber. From that first low flight of ours, soaring across that garden land, that fruitful park and pleasure ground, with its little villages, so clean, so bright in color, so lovely in arrange- ment, lying here and there among the green, all strung togeth- er by those smooth, shaded roads and winding paths. From that bird's-eye view to my later, more intimate knowledge, I re- called them with deep admiration and with a painful envy. They had no slums—not in all Herland; they had no neglected, dirty places; they had no crowded tenements; they lived in houses, and the houses were in gardens, and their manufactur- ing, storing and exchanging—all the larger business of life was carried on in buildings, if possible even more lovely than their dwelling houses. It could be done—I had seen it.
"I don't wonder you cry, my dear."
Chapter 9
"This is the most fascinating study," Ellador announced one day. "At home we are so smoothly happy, so naturally growing, that it's almost unconscious. Here, if you have not happiness, you have a call on all your sympathy, all your energy, all your pride—you have such a magnificent Opportunity.
"I've gone deeper into my diagnosis, dear," she continued, "and have even some prescriptions. Be patient while I general- ize a little more. You see this 'case' has so many diseases at once that one has to discriminate a bit.
"Here is the young new-made country, struggling out of the old ones to escape their worst diseases, breaking loose from monarchy, from aristocracy, and feudalism with its hereditary grip on land and money, on body and soul, and most of all, from that mind-crushing process of Enforced Belief which had kept the whole world back so long.
"Note——" she interpolated. "It is easy to see that as man progresses in social relation he needs more and more a free strong agile mind, with sympathetic perception and under- standing and the full power of self-chosen action. The Enforced Belief in any religion claiming to be Final Truth cripples the mind along precisely those lines, tending to promote a foolish sense of superiority to other believers or disbelievers; running to extremes of persecution; preventing sympathy, perception, and understanding, and reducing action to mere obedience.
"There," she said cheerfully. "If America had done nothing but that—establish the freedom of thought and belief—she would have done world-service of the highest order."
"The Greeks allowed it, didn't they? And the Romans ?" I offered.
"If they did it was 'a lost art' afterward," she replied. "Anyhow you did it later, and you have gone on doing it— splendidly.
"Then, in establishing the beginning of a democracy you per- formed another great service. This has not progressed as suc- cessfully, first because of its only partial application, second because you did not know it needed to be earnestly studied and taught—you thought you had it once and for all just by letting men vote, and third because it has been preyed upon by both parasites and diseases. In the matter of religion you threw off an evil restriction and let the mind grow free —a natural pro- cess. In the matter of government you established a social pro- cess, one requiring the utmost knowledge and skill. So it is no wonder the result has been so poor.
"Prescription as to government:
"A. Enfranchisement of all adult citizens. You have started on this.
"B. Special training—and practice—in the simpler methods and principles of democratic government as far as known, for all children, with higher courses and facilities for experiment and research for special students. You are beginning to do this already.
"C. Careful analysis and reports on the diseases of demo- cracy, with applied remedies, and as careful study of the para- sites affecting it—with sharp and thorough treatment. Even this you are beginning.
"A little severe on the parasites, aren't your" I asked.
"It is time you were severe on them, Van. I'm no Buddhist—I'm a forester. When I see trees attacked by vermin, I exterminate the vermin if I can. My business is to raise wood, fruit, nuts—not insects."
"Except of course when the mulberry tree is sacrificed to the silk worms," I suggested, but she merely smiled at me.
"You need to transfer to your democracy the devotion you used to have for your kings," she went on. "To kill a common man was murder—to kill a king was regicide. You have got to see that for one man to rob another man is bad enough; for a man to rob the public is worse; but to rob the public through the government is a kind of high treason which—if you still punished by torture— would be deserving of the most excruci- ating kind. As it is you have allowed the practice to become so common that it is scarcely condemned at all—you do not even call it robbery; you call it 'graft' —or 'pork'—or a 'plum tree'—or some such polite term."
Of course I knew all this—but I never had felt it as anything particularly dreadful.
"Don't you see," she went on. "The government is the social motor system. By means of it society learns, as a baby learns, to check some actions and to make others. If your government is sick, you are paralyzed, weakened, confused, unable to act. "In practical instance your city governments are frequently corrupt from the policemen up. Therefore when, with infinite labor, the public feeling has been aroused to want something done, you find that the machinery to do it with won't work. What you do not seem to realize at all is that the specific evil you seek to attack is not nearly so serious as the generic evil which makes your whole governmental system so—so——"
"Groggy," I suggested with a wry smile.
"Yes—that's about it. As weak and slow and wavering as a drunken man."
"Remedy," I demanded, "remedy?"
"Why that comes under 'C in those I just gave," she said. "It needs full study and careful experiment to decide on the rem- edies. But here is what might be done at once: A report be made which should begin with a brief survey of the worst cases of governmental corruption in other countries, past and present. Not only in general, but with specific instances, people called by name with their crimes clearly shown. What such and such a person cost his country. How such decisive battles were lost because of such crippling disorders in the government. Parallel made between conspicuous traitors already recognized and this kind. Report now brought to our own country with both summary and instances. Our waterways described, what has been done, legitimately, to improve them, and what has been done, illegitimately, to hinder, pervert, and prevent right government action. History of our River and Har- bor Bills given, and brought down to date, with this last huge 'steal' now accomplished—and not even rebuked! Names should be given—and names called! The congressmen and sen- ators concerned, and the beneficiaries in the localities thus ne- fariously fattened.
"This kind of thing could be put simply and briefly so that the children could understand. They should be taught, early and steadily, how to judge the men who corrupt the very vitals of their country. Also how to judge the lazy shirks who do not even vote, much less study how to help the country."
"It needs—it needs a new kind of public opinion, doesn't it ?" I ventured.
"Of course it does, but new public opinion has to be made. It takes no great genius to recognize a thief and a traitor, once he is shown up; but yours are not shown up."
"Why, Ellador—I'm sure there's a lot about this in the papers"
She looked at me—just looked at me— and her expression was like that of an over-ripe volcano, firmly suppressed.
"For Heaven's sake! Let it out, Ellador. Say it quick and say it all—what's the matter with the papers!"
She laughed. Fortunately she could laugh, and I laughed with her.
"I couldn't say it all—under ten volumes," she admitted, "but I'll say some of it. This is a special department—I must begin again."
"This whole matter of societies, parasites and diseases is in- tensely interesting. We in Herland, being normal, have not realized our society much, any more than a healthy child real- izes her body."
I noticed that Ellador and her sisters always said "she" and "her" as unconsciously as we say "he" and "his." Their reason, of course, is that all the people are shes. Our reason is not so justifiable.
"But the rest of the world seems to be painfully conscious of its social body —without being able to help it much. Now you know there are diseases and diseases, some much preferable to others. In their degree of danger they vary much, and in what they are dangerous to. One might better have a very sick leg than an even partly sick heart or brain. Rheumatism for in- stance is painful and crippling, but when it reaches the heart it becomes fatal. Some creatures cannot have certain diseases for lack of material ; one does not look for insanity in an angle- worm, or neurasthenia in a clam.
"Society, as it has developed new functions, has developed new diseases. The daily press is one of the very newest social functions—one of the very highest —one of the most measure- less importance. That is why the rheumatism of the press is worse than rheumatism of the farm, or the market."
"Rheumatism of the press ?'
"Yes—that's a poor figure perhaps. I mean any serious dis- ease is worse there than in some lower or less important func- tion. Look at the whole thing again, Van. Society, in the stage of democracy, needs to be universally informed, mutually sym- pathetic, quick and strong to act . For this purpose it must in- troduce machinery to develop intelligence, to supply informa- tion, to arouse and impart feeling, to promote prompt action. The schools are supposed to train the intelligence, but your press is the great machine through which the democracy is in- formed, aroused, and urged to act. It is the social sensorium. Through it you see and hear and feel—collectively. Through it you are incited to act—collectively. It is later and by that much higher than the school and the church. It is the necessary in- strument of democracy."
"Admitted, all admitted. But isn't that our general belief, dear, though perhaps not so clearly put?"
"Yes, you seem to think a great deal of your press—so much so that you cannot see, much less cure, its diseases."
"Well—you are the doctor. Pitch in. I suppose you know there are many and fierce critics of 'our senational press' and 'our venal press.'"
"Oh yes, I have read some of the criticisms. They don't touch it "
"Go on, and touch it yourself, Sister —I'm listening." She was too serious to be annoyed at my light manner.
"It's like this," she said slowly. "This great new function came into being in a time when people were struggling with what seemed more important issues,— were, perhaps. In Europe it has become, very largely, a tool of the old governments. Here, fearing that, it has been allowed to become the tool of individu- als, and now of your plutocratic powers. You see you changed your form of government but failed to change your ideas and feelings to go with it. You allow it to go on over your heads as if it were a monarchy and none of your business. And you jealously refuse to give it certain necessary tools, as if it were a monarchy and would misuse them. What you have got to learn is to keep your government the conscious determined action of the majority of the people, and see that it has full power. A democracy is self-government, the united self of the people. Is that self-control the best that self-controls the least?"
"Do you want a government-owned press?" I inquired. "We see that in Europe—and do not like it."
"You mean a monarchy-controlled press, do you not? No, I do not mean anything like that. You should have a press with democratic control, surely, and that means all the people, or at least the majority of them. What you have now is a press con- trolled by starkly mercenary motives of individuals, and the more powerful purposes of your big 'interests.'
"What are you going to do—that's what I want to know. Lots of people criticize our press, but no one seems able to suggest the better method. Some propose endowment; we must have freedom of expression."
"You musn't expect too much of me, Van. I can see the dis- eases easier than the cures, of course. It seems to me that you could combine perfect freedom of opinion, comment, idea, with the most authoritative presentation of the facts."
"Do you think a government-run paper could be trusted to give the facts correctly?" "If it did not there would be heavier charges against it than could be survived over election. What you have not recognized yet is the social crime of misrepres- enting the facts. Your papers lie as they please."
"We have our libel laws——"
"I didn't say libel—I said lie. They lie, on whichever side they belong, and there is no penalty for it."
