ote 4: See a little White Cross paper entitled, _Medical
Testimony_.]

CHAPTER IV

THE SECRET AND METHOD

There is a simile of Herbert Spencer's, in his book on Sociology, which
has often helped me in dealing with great moral problems. He says:

"You see that wrought-iron plate is not quite flat; it sticks up a
little here towards the left, 'cockles,' as we say. How shall we
flatten it? Obviously, you reply, by hitting down on the part that
is prominent. Well, here is a hammer, and I give the plate a blow
as you advise. Harder, you say. Still no effect. Another stroke.
Well, there is one, and another, and another. The prominence
remains, you see; the evil is as great as ever, greater, indeed.
But this is not all. Look at the warp which the plate has got near
the opposite edge. Where it was flat before it is now curved. A
pretty bungle we have made of it! Instead of curing the original
defect, we have produced a second. Had we asked an artisan
practised in 'planishing,' as it is called, he would have told us
that no good was to be done, but only mischief, by hitting down on
the projecting part. He would have taught us how to give variously
directed and specially adjusted blows with a hammer elsewhere, so
attacking the evil not by direct but by indirect actions. The
required process is less simple than you thought. Even a sheet of
metal is not to be successfully dealt with after those common-sense
methods in which you have so much confidence. 'Do you think I am
easier to be played on than a pipe?' asked Hamlet. Is humanity more
readily straightened than an iron plate?"[5]

Now, in our moral "planishing" we need to know where and how to direct
our blows, lest in endeavoring to lessen the evil we not only increase
the evil itself, but produce other evils almost as great as the one we
intended to cure. The mistake that we commit--and this is, I think,
especially true of us women--is to rush at our moral problems without
giving a moment's thought to their causes, which often lie deep hidden
in human nature. Our great naturalist, Darwin, gave eight years' study
to our lowly brother, the barnacle; he gave an almost equal amount of
time to the study of the earthworm and its functions, revealing to us,
in one of his most charming books, how much of our golden harvest, of
our pastures, and our jewelled garden-beds,