o say that they are in general unduly civilized. Throughout large
parts of the population, even in long-settled regions, there is no
excess of those virtues needed for the maintenance of social harmony.
Especially out in the West, men's dealings do not yet betray too much of
the "sweetness and light" which we are told distinguish the cultured man
from the barbarian. Nevertheless, there is a sense in which my assertion
is true. You know that the primitive man lacks power of application.
Spurred by hunger, by danger, by revenge, he can exert himself
energetically for a time; but his energy is spasmodic. Monotonous daily
toil is impossible to him. It is otherwise with the more developed man.
The stern discipline of social life has gradually increased the aptitude
for persistent industry; until, among us, and still more among you, work
has become with many a passion. This contrast of nature has another
aspect. The savage thinks only of present satisfactions, and leaves
future satisfactions uncared for. Contrariwise, the American, eagerly
pursuing a future good, almost ignores what good the passing day offers
him; and when the future good is gained, he neglects that while striving
for some still remoter good.

What I have seen and heard during my stay among you has forced on me the
belief that this slow change from habitual inertness to persistent
activity has reached an extreme from which there must begin a
counterchange--a reaction. Everywhere I have been struck with the
number of faces which told in strong lines of the burdens that had to be
borne. I have been struck, too, with the large proportion of gray-haired
men; and inquiries have brought out the fact, that with you the hair
commonly begins to turn some ten years earlier than with us. Moreover,
in every circle I have met men who had themselves suffered from nervous
collapse due to stress of business, or named friends who had either
killed themselves by overwork, or had been permanently incapacitated, or
had wasted long periods in endeavours to recover health. I do but echo
the opinion of all the observant persons I have spoken to, that immense
injury is being done by this high-pressure life--the physique is being
undermined. That subtle thinker and poet whom you have lately had to
mourn, Emerson, says, in his essay on the Gentleman, that the first
requisite is that he shall be a good animal. The requisite is a general
one--it extends to the man, to the father, to the