is slight, and
sometimes one is impelled to doubt whether there has been any
progress at all. The egotism of one side is met by the egotism of
the other side. But appeals to mass egotism will no more elevate
mankind, than appeals to individual egotism. Appeals to
sympathy also will not permanently help. Only the highest motive
of all can furnish the power needed to accomplish the miracle of
social transformation; only that conflict which is waged for the
purpose not of striking down the oppressor and rescuing his
victim, but for the rescue of both the victim and the oppressor, will
attain its end.

The oppressor may be regarded as a man who has consented so to
degrade himself as to become for the time being a heartless
automaton, ruthlessly working for gain, a being like one of those
terrible ogres of the popular mythology who feed on human flesh.
But he is not a mere automaton or ogre. There is a better side to
his nature, as we often discover, to our amazement, when we learn
about the facts of his private life. These private virtues do not
indeed condone his social sins--far from it--but they indicate that
there exists a better side. If that side could be made victorious, if
conditions could be shaped so as to starve out the worse nature
and bring to the fore the better nature in the oppressor as well as in
the oppressed, the problem would be advanced toward a solution.

There is a story told of two brothers, sons of the same father, who
grew up in the same home and were deeply attached to each other.
It happened that the older wandered away and fell into the power
of an evil magician, who changed him into a ravening wolf. The
younger mourned his loss, and treasured in his heart the image of
the brother as he had been in the days before the wicked spell fell
upon him. Impelled by his longing, he at last went out into the
world to find his brother, and if possible to redeem him. One day
as he passed through a lonely forest, a hungry wolf set upon him.
The horrid, brutal face was near to his, the hot breath breathed
upon him, and the fierce eyes flamed into his own. But by the
might of his love, the younger brother was able to detect beneath
the wolfish disguise the faint outlines of the brother whom he had
long ago lost, and by the strength of his gaze, which saw only the
brother and refused to see the wolf, he was able to give shape and
substance to that faint outline. The outer frame of brutishness
gradually melt