ONE great mistake made by those who consider social
problems is that they either regard man apart from his surroundings
or as one of a mass, instead of as a member of a family or group.
Family life is the common form of social life, and whatever its
defects, it is the form that is likely to persist without very great
modification. The family is based on marriage, and the parties
married are not one in blood, though the children of the marriage
are. The family tie, therefore, is not solely a blood tie. The
members are brought up in a sense of mutual obligation and in the
knowledge of their interdependence.
Occasionally adoption is a means of entering a
family. When a person is adopted early in life, it is difficult to
perceive any difference in the tie that binds him and the other
members of the family. There is another and a temporary adoption
which is much more frequent than is generally imagined, and the
existence of which prevents a great many lads and more girls from
becoming destitute and from drifting into evil courses. In Glasgow
there are many young persons who, having no relatives of their own
with whom they can live, or the relatives being unwilling to take
them in, obtain lodgings and help from others. In the case of the
girls, they pay a portion of their earnings to the common treasury
and give their services in aid of the work of the household, being
treated in all essential respects as members of the family. Many of
them are not earning a wage sufficient to enable them to pay for
lodgings at the ordinary rate; and it is this arrangement that
explains why so many who are in receipt of small wages are able to
live respectably, and do so. Attempts have been made to provide
hostels for such wage-eamers, on this very ground that their income
is insufficient to enable them to hire a room with attendance; and
the hostels are frankly admitted to require charitable aid for their
upkeep, though they are in their management institutional; that is
to say, they aim at economy by the subdivision of labour. It never
seems to have occurred to those who appeal for funds to establish
such places that the girls in the majority of cases have solved the
problem for themselves, by what I have called, and what practically
is, a kind of adoption; and that their solution is the correct
one—that the minority who have failed to obtain adoption can be
better helped by securing it for them, if necessary by subsidy, than
by bringing them together in an institution.
A good many jokes have been made as to who is the
head of a household—the man or the wife; and the question is
occasionally a subject of dispute; but in the family authority tends
to adjust itself. It can only exist when there is mutual toleration
and respect. Each member may be acutely conscious of the
shortcomings of the other and may discuss x them freely, but they
all tend to unite against outside criticism, and if they are aware
of each other’s demerits, they are equally sharp to recognise
qualities which help to their advancement. So that while one member
may be the head of the family, another may be the centre of the
family. It is not always either the father or the mother that
exercises most influence in the family council. These matters are
determined by circumstances, and when there is discord and disunion
it is almost invariably due to a disregard of natural aptitudes and
tendencies in the children, and to an insistence on parental rights
in the narrow sense.
The enforcement of mutual responsibility implies the
recognition of mutual power. The community in which we live is
mainly made up of families. Yet men are considered as individuals,
legislated for, and supervised as though this were not the case; and
the authorities, instead of working through the family on the
individual, contrive to raise the family feeling against them. The
State is not an aggregation of men, but an aggregation of families;
and when men are considered in the mass they are considered without
relation to their usual surroundings. It has been pointed out that
the crowd takes on characters different from the individuals
composing it, but it is quite wrong to imagine that men have
ordinarily to be regarded as units in a crowd. Attempts are made to
supervise men in masses; that is what takes place in institutions.
Individuals are supervised in certain circumstances outside, but
they are best supervised in conjunction and in co-operation with the
members of the family of which for a time they form a part.
If every family has not its black sheep, in most
cases it has some one of its members whose capacity is not equal to
that of the others. In some of the cases the direction in which the
weakness is shown is one that leads to breaches of the law. There
are many children in every city who are a great trial to their
parents, and there are parents who sorely try the patience and
resources of their children. There are families who spend care and
effort to prevent one of their members from becoming worse than he
is and in endeavouring to lead him into better courses; but the
community does nothing to help them in their efforts until they drop
their burden or are compelled to relinquish it, when the authorities
promptly proceed to apply official methods of treatment. We have
reached the point where it actually pays the family financially to
disclaim responsibility, for the State will do all (even though it
does it badly) or will do nothing. It would be cheaper in every
sense to help those who are trying to bear their responsibility—who
are willing, though their circumstances make them unable—than to do
as we have done ; and acting on the ignorant assumption of our own
knowledge, wait until evil has developed so far as to be unbearable
and then put the evil-doer through our machinery.
Unless the offender is brought into sympathetic
contact with someone in the community, who will enable him to resist
temptation and encourage him in welldoing, he never does reform.
There are people who attribute the change in their conduct to a
conversion, sudden or otherwise, towards religion. The more sudden
the change in their mental outlook the greater danger they are in;
for the severing of an evil connection, though a necessary step, is
not all that is required. In a community such as ours a man cannot
stand alone. He cannot forsake his company and his accustomed
pursuits and become a hermit, living the life of an early Christian
sent into the wilderness.
He has to remain in the world and live out his life
there. He must not only be converted from his former courses, but
turned to better courses. He cannot get on without company. He
cannot even earn his living alone; and the great advantage the
convert has in our place and time is the assurance that he will be
supported by others of like mind with him. They will find work for
him and fellowship, and they fill his time very full; but only in so
far as good comradeship is established between him and others is he
likely to remain steadfast. Comradeship deeper than the sharing of a
common theological dogma and a common emotionalism is the only
security for his reformation.
To the man whose life has been passed in sordid
surroundings, whose work has been monotonous and laborious, and
whose pleasures have been gross, the more emotional the form in
which the religious appeal is presented the greater its chance of
success. He becomes filled with the spirit—a different kind of
spirit from that which has hitherto influenced his actions—but the
result is an excitement and an exaltation as pronounced as any he
felt in the days of his iniquity. No one can listen to the convert
at the street corner without being struck by the fact that while he
is detailing and perhaps magnifying the nuisance he was before his
regeneration, he is as much excited and makes as much noise as he
did in those days. In some cases his public behaviour makes little
difference to his neighbours, for he is no quieter than he was;
though, instead of sending them to hell as he did in his wrath, he
now tells them that they are going there. Of course there is a world
of difference both to them and to him as a result of the change in
his outlook. His conduct is improved, if his manner is not; but
every period of exaltation is liable to be followed by one of
depression, and this is the danger to which his emotionalism exposes
him.
The best way to prevent a man from falling back into
his old habits is to keep him too busy in the formation of new ones
to have any time to turn his attention to the past. We hear it
commonly said that the way to hell is paved with good intentions,
but just as truly the way to heaven may be paved with bad. If men
are distracted from doing the good they intend by something less
worthy, they are as often prevented from doing the evil they had
concerted through something interposing and claiming their interest.
Religion, then, may be a very potent influence in starting a man on
a new course of conduct, and its spirit may inspire him to continue
in the way of welldoing; but his perseverance will depend far more
than he thinks on his adaptation to the company of the religious,
and his interest in their work and their lives. Almost as little
will the love of good keep him from the world, the flesh, and the
devil, as the love of evil will make him a criminal.
For the most part men are not wicked because they
prefer evil to good, but because they have come under the influence
of evil associations which appeal to something in them. The man at
the street corner who speaks about serving God is, at any rate,
logical when he talks about having served the devil; but in those
old bad days he did not consider the devil at all. He did what
pleased him best, quite apart from any desire to have the approval
of the Prince of Darkness. It is only after his conversion that he
discovers that all his life he had been serving Satan without
recognising him, and it is equally possible, surely, for men to
serve God without recognising the fact. It is just as possible for a
man to do good and to live well, without thinking of anything beyond
his pleasure in doing so, as to live wickedly from the same reason.
In both cases the fellowship of others has a great deal to do with
the matter.
There is only one method by which a prisoner is
reformed, and that is through the sympathetic guidance and
assistance of some person or persons between whom and him there is a
common interest. An employer engages an ex-prisoner and shows that
he really desires him to do well. He must not patronise him, but he
has to impress in some way the person he would help with the idea
that he believes in him. He has to revive in him a feeling of
self-respect. How is this done? There is no convenient formula. The
man whose manner attracts one may repel others. Religion, which most
powerfully influences some, shows no power to attract many; and the
man who will be deaf to one form of appeal may respond to another.
It is simply foolish to assume that because our attempts to correct
a man have failed he is incorrigible. All we can say is that we have
failed because we have not been dealing with him in a way suited to
him. Sometimes it is an old acquaintance or a fellow-workman that
impresses him and leads him to a new interest in life. Whoever moves
him, and however it may be done, it is only a new interest that will
expel the old. It never is what a man is taught, but what he learns,
that moves him. |