Am I My Brother's Keeper?

Am I my Brother's Keeper? W Ernest D. Partridge, B. S., Brigham Young University

The above question, which was given as a camouflaged ans- wer by the first murderer, is one that looms up in the minds of Americans today. Should the capitalist become the protector of his brother, the laborer? Suppose the investor of millions should withdraw his money, and say, "I have enough to supply my every desired luxury for the remainder of my life. Why should I worry about the laboring man and his wage?" and by selfish inaction, should stop every industry. Or suppose the work- man should say, "I will not work to increase the millions of the rich," and persist in his decision, what could the investor do, but "close up in his shell"? Or again, suppose the farmers should unite and refuse to raise food for others, how long could society go on? For the success of civilization, all these classes are absolutely necessary to each other; and if either should carry their threat to extremes, government control would be inevitable. In the past, capitalists have had, seemingly, an uncontrollable appetite for more money; so men, women and children became the fuel with which they fed their engines of wealth production. On the other hand "agitators" and "walking delegates" have produced in the laboring class an unsatisfiable craving for higher wages. If they received $6! for 8 hours work, why not demand $8 for 6 hours work? and then $10 for 5 hours work? etc. There is no end to their demands, "but there certainly is a limit to the pos- sibility of conceding to them. As this limit is approached the stress between the employer and the employed becomes — greater and greater, until a rupture occurs. Results strikes, nres, wrecks, murders, etc. Sad inequality has existed between the farmer and the salesman. One illustration will suffice. A farmer planted cucumbers. When harvesting was near, he approached a dealer to find a market. He considered the dealer's offer too low, and tried others only to find that the price had been "fixed" and he was forced to haul his crop two miles, take back every oth- er day all unsold cucumbers, replacing them with fresh ones. The farmer received 5c per dozen for his crop. The dealer received 10c per dozen, making a clear profit of 100 percent in two days without any risk whatever. Certainly this was an unequal dis- tribution of the profits. It is earnestly to be hoped that some, or many, of these wrongs will soon be righted —"while the spirit moves." Ameri-

—

AM I MY BROTHER'S KEEPER? 979

ca's stand in the world war was that of the "big brother," and we must make it apply at home as well as abroad. America is beginning to see, and certainly must act. The President's — statement that we should do right because it is right because it is right, surely indicates a wholesome tendency. Ministers, lec- turers, and writers seem to be catching the spirit. A story in the Saturday Evening Post of March 22, entitled "Men Snatch- era," which is well worth reading, though the title is far inferior to the ideal set forth, is an illustration of how the rich and the powerful may protect the poor and the weak without losing any of the excitement of the "chase." Is the time at hand when power and influence are to be used only for the right? When newspapers and magazines can- not be '"bought" for any unjust purpose? When a man, who has been elected to office by the people to represent them will not prostitute his right to vote on important questions in order to gain personal political advantage? In other words, is the time at hand when all men, great and small, rich and poor, will be thoroughly convinced that "I am my brother's keeper?" Or will the sentiment prevail which is exhibited by a "squib" re- cently published in the Literary Digest, which reads:

"No beer, No work, No work, no pay, No pay, no food, Let us all starve together." Provo, Utah

Funeral Hymn She is not dead, but sleeping, Whisper the angels low; Hushed be the sounds of weeping, She would have wished it so. — — Sleeping sleeping whisper low!

She is not dead, but riseth On wings of glad release Lift up your eyes, and follow The path of perfect peace. — — Follow follow perfect peace. Susa Young Gates

The