n with the sergeant instincts is even more
valuable than in the army. The business sergeant is the man not in
evidence--who asks for no compliments or bouquets--who knows where
things are--who has no outside ambitions, and no desire save to do his
work. If he is too smart he will lay plots and plans for his own
promotion, and thereby he is pretty sure to defeat himself.

As an individual the average soldier is a sneak, a shirk, a failure, a
coward. He is only valuable as he is licked into shape. It is pretty
much the same in business. It seems hard to say it, but the average
employe in factory, shop or store, puts the face of the clock to shame
looking at it; he is thinking of his pay envelope and his intent is to
keep the boss located and to do as little work as possible. In many
cases the tyranny of the employer is to blame for the condition, but
more often it is the native outcrop of suspicion that prompts the seller
to give no more than he can help.

And here the sergeant comes in, and with watchful eye and tireless
nerves, holds the recreants to their tasks. If he is too severe, he will
fix in the shirks more firmly the shirk microbe; but if he is of better
fibre, he may supply a little more will to those who lack it, and
gradually create an atmosphere of right intent, so that the only
disgrace will consist in their wearing the face off the regulator and
keeping one ear cocked to catch the coming footsteps of the boss.

There is not the slightest danger that there will ever be an overplus of
sergeants. Let the sergeant keep out of strikes, plots, feuds, hold his
temper and show what's what, and he can name his own salary and keep his
place for ninety-nine years without having a contract.

The Spirit of the Age

Four hundred and twenty-five years before the birth of the Nazarene,
Socrates said, "The gods are on high Olympus, but you and I are here."
And for this--and a few other similar observations--be was compelled to
drink a substitute for coffee--he was an infidel! Within the last thirty
years the churches of Christendom have, in the main, adopted the
Socratic proposition that you and I are here. That is, we have made
progress by getting away from narrow theology and recognizing humanity.
We do not know anything about either Olympus or Elysium, but we do know
something about Athens.

Athens is here.

Athens needs us--the Greeks are at the door. Let the gods run Elysium,
and we'll devote ourselves to