nating and dynamic value of this wider and
more thorough human experience which explains in no small degree that
new curiosity regarding human life which has more of a moral basis than
an intellectual one.

The newspapers, in a frank reflection of popular demand, exhibit an
omniverous curiosity equally insistent upon the trivial and the
important. They are perhaps the most obvious manifestations of that
desire to know, that "What is this?" and "Why do you do that?" of the
child. The first dawn of the social consciousness takes this form, as
the dawning intelligence of the child takes the form of constant
question and insatiate curiosity.

Literature, too, portrays an equally absorbing though better adjusted
desire to know all kinds of life. The popular books are the novels,
dealing with life under all possible conditions, and they are widely
read not only because they are entertaining, but also because they in a
measure satisfy an unformulated belief that to see farther, to know all
sorts of men, in an indefinite way, is a preparation for better social
adjustment--for the remedying of social ills.

Doubtless one under the conviction of sin in regard to social ills finds
a vague consolation in reading about the lives of the poor, and derives
a sense of complicity in doing good. He likes to feel that he knows
about social wrongs even if he does not remedy them, and in a very
genuine sense there is a foundation for this belief.

Partly through this wide reading of human life, we find in ourselves a
new affinity for all men, which probably never existed in the world
before. Evil itself does not shock us as it once did, and we count only
that man merciful in whom we recognize an understanding of the criminal.
We have learned as common knowledge that much of the insensibility and
hardness of the world is due to the lack of imagination which prevents a
realization of the experiences of other people. Already there is a
conviction that we are under a moral obligation in choosing our
experiences, since the result of those experiences must ultimately
determine our understanding of life. We know instinctively that if we
grow contemptuous of our fellows, and consciously limit our intercourse
to certain kinds of people whom we have previously decided to respect,
we not only tremendously circumscribe our range of life, but limit the
scope of our ethics.

We can recall among the selfish people of our acquaintance at least one
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