If I do wrong, believing it to be right, I act in good conscience, but I err through judgment. I am still in error.

If I conscientiously endeavor to do right, and am correct in my judgment of what is right, but am prevented by forces outside of myself, I am not guilty of wrong, but I suffer failure.

If I conscientiously endeavor to do right, being correct in my judgment of what is right, but am prevented by limitations within myself, I may be guilty of wrong; at the best, I am guilty of weak

ness.

If I do right or wrong, believing it to be wrong, I defy my conscience. I am guilty of sin.

If I do right, believing it to be right, my conduct is right. Thus only can I do right. Thus only can I obey my conscience and at the same time justify my judgment and my sovereign power of choice. Thus only can I avoid failure, escape error, and rise above the charge of weakness.

The danger in most cases lies on the side of judgment, not on the side of conscience. The average citizen, as a rule, wishes to do right; but even the best citizen must be tremendously concerned about his judgments. To his aid he must summon education and the experience of all good men. Not even a good conscience is proof against a bad judgment; neither is it an acceptable defence against a broken law. For example, on July 2, 1881, a man shot the President of the United States. He thought he was doing right—at least, he said so. But the court that sentenced him to death said:

When men reason the law requires them to reason correctly, as far as their practical duties are concerned. When they have the capacity to distinguish between right and wrong, they are bound to do it. Opinions, properly so called, afford no protection against the penal consequences of crime. A man may believe a course of action to be right, and the law, which forbids it, to be wrong. Nevertheless, he must obey the law, notwithstanding his convictions. And nothing can save him from the consequences of its violation, except the fact that he is so crazed by disease as to be unable to comprehend the necessity of obedience to it.5

5. Guiteau's Case: 10 Fed. 161; 1882. See page 568 of Modern American Law, Vol. III.

CHAPTER XVI

THE GOOD CITIZEN AT WORK

"Thank God every morning when you get up that you have something to do that day which must be done whether you like it or not. Being forced to work, and forced to do your best, will breed in you a hundred virtues which the idle never know."-Charles Kingsley.

The good citizen will be employed; and he will be well employed. And good work will help any man to be a good citizen. For personal and for social worth, honest toil is efficacious. The more intelligent and purposeful labor is, the greater its value; but there is hardly any work, however ignorantly performed, that is not better than rank idleThe understanding must guide activity ere the highest can be achieved in work or in life; but the busy hand, doing with its might, is a marvelous magician for sightless eyes and senseless souls.

ness.

There is a development of the person through the trade, no less than a development of the trade through the person. The product is not only goods, but goodness; not only profit, but also personality. Rich resources of happiness are also discovered "when work has become a vocation, and labor has contributed to life."1

Work may be chiefly physical or it may be chiefly mental. All real work is partly one and

1. Francis G. Peabody; Education for Life, pages 250, 251.

partly the other-a combination of both; but we are here considering especially physical work: work with the hand, utilizing material resources by means of tools, machinery, the lower animals, or through the various processes of nature, as in agriculture, forestry, oyster-planting, or fruit-growing.

In working with the lower animals-horses, cattle, dogs, poultry, etc.-one should never lose sight of the fact that he is the intelligent and responsible guardian of these dependent, trustful, and devoted creatures. Cruelty to dumb animals, by positive mistreatment or through careless neglect, is unworthy of manhood or womanhood. One man may be cruel to another man, but only a brute can be willingly cruel to a brute.

Working with domestic animals in a thoughtful, generous spirit, is a wonderful stimulus to the better emotions. The loyal obedience of these creatures, their confident reliance upon the good will of the masters who feed and guide them, the remarkable intelligence that they often display, all appeal most touchingly to the better nature of the thoughtful human being. As a result, kindness, patience, forethought, and active sympathy should be developed.

Work-industry-is one of the world's great agencies for education. The inexorable demands of work for honesty, accuracy, and skill exert a tremendous moral influence. "No amount of cheating and bargaining can ever get a single thing out of nature's establishment at half price." Who can estimate the civic value of such a fact, wrought into the

consciousness of millions of farmers, cattle men, and fruit-growers? The book-keeper as well as the watch-maker learns the law of accuracy, which is only another word for honesty. The architect and the builder must become aware of the fact that they are responsible for the lives and the safety of hundreds of their fellow citizens. The ship-wright and the pilot must frequently answer the question, “Am I my brother's keeper?"

All kinds of mechanical work, such as carpentry, bricklaying, pattern-making, printing, and bookbinding, in which exact measurements, exact angles, proper colors, and accurate workmanship at once justify themselves, and in which, on the other hand, careless and slipshop methods are bound to tell their own disgraceful story, ought to be a constant stimulus to good morals and good habits. How any man with a crooked soul can do a really fine piece of mechanical work is certainly hard to see. And how any man can do a fine piece of work day after day without having a stronger and straighter spirit because of it is equally hard to see. As a matter of fact, good character and good workmanship are no less proper correlatives than bad character and bad workmanship.

Once, in tearing down an old building, the writer came upon a piece of work that had been all the years hidden. It was a simple fitting together of two pieces of wood as a means of support to the outside of the structure. Nobody but the workman who did the job had ever seen that piece of work. He