II social workers have not had the courage and self-respect to assert themselves against undue influences of donors in separate philanthropies. It is the underlying social process going on in your community which you need to study and which your federation will only focus and strengthen; and you must decide whether you want that sort of thing in your town or not, rather than studying simply the method or technique of federation administration. Find Take a more outstanding and spectacular problem today: we are asking-even the American Federation of Labor is asking-does the Rochdale co-operative system give promise of great contributions to social welfare here in America? And most of us who have been asking that question have simply been looking at the technique of the Rochdale system. The failures or successes we have explained almost entirely by whether the pattern has been lived up to. I suggest that that is not the underlying problem as to whether the Rochdale co-operative system has promise for America. No, the underlying problem is this: take your communities in which the same technique has been applied and in one case a failure resulted and in another success. out the differences in the social forces there, how much individualism, how much solidarity, how much common taste, how much difference of desires, how much community consciousness, how much indifference to community needs, how much neighborliness, how much casual acquaintanceship, and when you have asked these questions in actual situations, in these and many others you will find the answer to the problem of how far the Rochdale system can go in the United States. For when you find the vital situation in which it succeeds, you can see how many times that situation is reproduced in this country. If in only a few instances, then your efforts should be in proportion to the opportunities of reproducing or duplicating those conditions; but if in the majority of communities those conditions do not exist, then you have discovered the fundamental organic laws which make the possibility of success of the Rochdale system small. These are only illustrations, in these Rochdale and federation inquiries, as to the underlying social forces that need to be considered in proposing any social formula. What I am urging as the next step in the development of social work is this social soil analysis. We should realize that to give the greatest service we must take into consideration these vital forces which are interacting and interplaying with all we may do and strive to accomplish, defeating or advancing our efforts according to whether we work with or against them. And not only the purpose of this address, but of all the general sessions of this conference, is to try to get us a little further into this way of thinking. If you have looked over your program, to which I want to call your special attention, you will realize that in our general sessions we are asking ourselves to think of our work in relation to other great currents of life surging through our nation. Immediately at the close of this address, we begin to look at the developments of rural life, presented by the secretary of the American Country Life Association. Tomorrow night we think of our great public education system-not how it can serve us, but how we must relate ourselves to it. Then we follow with the great problems of industry and labor, presented by the former vice-president of a big manufacturing concern, and the president of one of our great international unions. On Sunday we turn to the church and institutions of religion; then on into the life of a whole; another night to that great primary activity of the community as self-preservation, the public health movement of the country; then on into the field of governmental action, the dispensing of justice, where the dean of one of our great law schools and the representative of one of our state industrial commissions will address us; and next into the leadership of the nation itself, as we hear from the chief of our Children's Bureau and the chairman of what has become the public welfare committee of the United States Senate. Concluding the whole, we bring our conference to a close with a consideration of the part that social welfare must play in the newly forming international relationships of the world. I urge you to give attention to these fields of thought, not in appreciation of your program committee, not in compliment and appreciation of the leaders in these fields who, at so much effort, come to address us, but because our thoughts need to be more habitually engaged in the study of these great currents of life with which we must co-operate if we are to contribute most fruitfully and profitably to social progress. The demand of today is-shall I say-for the social alchemist. No, for that smacks too much of the magical and miraculous. The demand is for the organic chemist of society, the discoverer of the missing ingredient, of the essential elements that will precipitate this formless, chaotic, nebulous condition of society into solidarity, cohesion, organic unity. The spirit, the knowledge, the altruism of the social worker give a great advantage in this task; and that means a still greater responsibility. Are we to be lone players in this great game of life, trying to carry the ball to the goal by heart-breaking and back-breaking efforts—perhaps a goal of our choosing, rather than that chosen by the team? Or are we to be good team players, striving to find out studiously and carefully the limitation, the one lack in the make-up of the whole team, being willing to supply it, no matter how self-sacrificing and selfeffacing we must be. For, in this increasing complexity and interdependence of life, those agencies will serve best which do most to bring order, organization, and system into these confused, conflicting forces. For social service I am jealous that she render this new and greater service. But present conditions challenge her to the ordeal of serviceableness. Are we to be weighed in the balance and found wanting? We shall survive the ordeal, we shall stand the test, as we make some advance, some greater contribution even than this invaluable panoply of mechanisms and devices already developed. We shall survive to the extent that we discover and apply the working relationships of social forces, the organic principles of social progress. Then at the hands of the irresistible forces of life itself, such a social worker shall receive the verdict: Well done, thou hast been faithful in those few things whose indispensable relations to life and progress enthrone thee ruler over many. DIVISION IX-ORGANIZATION OF SOCIAL FORCES ORGANIZATION OF RURAL SOCIAL FORCES E. C. Lindeman, Field Secretary, American Country Life Association; Secretary, National Council of Agencies Engaged in Rural Social Work One hundred years ago the United States was a nation of farmers. When the treaty of peace was signed with England in 1815, there was not a single grown-up mar in the country whose parents had not been subjects of a king. The total population of the country, including one and one-quarter million negro slaves, was less than ten million people. New York and Philadelphia were the largest cities, each having a population of less than one hundred thousand persons. Charleston, with thirty-three thousand people, was the fifth largest city on the continent. The average value of land was $10.00 per acre. Land which sold in Rhode Island for $39.00 per acre was considered exorbitant in price. There was no land hunger; the purchase of Louisiana had supplied much more land than was needed. Each farm family was an independent unit; everything needed for life and living was raised or made upon the farmstead. To travel from New York to Philadelphia consumed an average time of fourteen to sixteen hours; from Albany to New York took three days; and a trip from Boston to Washington consumed a full week. It cost eight cents to send a letter thirty miles. New York and Philadelphia were the commercial centers of the nation; in the former city there were eleven banks and in the latter ten. The largest industrial center was located at Huntington, Pennsylvania, where there were nine iron establishments employing a total of 390 workers. A few days ago I visited one of the hill farms of North Carolina. On that farm I had the privilege of conversing with a lady who has passed her ninety-eighth birthday. She has lived through the epoch which began with the period of reconstruction following the War of 1812 and has witnessed one of the most profound and fundamental changes which ever took place on a single continent. She has seen America change from a farm nation to an industrial nation. Approximately one-third of the people of the United States now live on farms. Their number has been constantly diminishing in relative proportion, and is destined to decrease still more. The United States is now an industrial nation, motivated by industrial psychology and dominated by industrial discipline. The amount of unused land capable of cultivation and not included in farms is almost negligible in quantity. The products of the American farm are now a part of world economy. There is no immediate danger of lack of food supply, for the American farmer is an efficient producer; he produces more per man than any other farmer in the world. By the application of machinery and the scientific rotation of crops our lands can continue to produce food in sufficient quantity to care for a normal increase in population. There are two limiting factors which the earnest student must, however, take into consideration. One of these is the relationship between the total available mineral salts and food production. This is not the place to discuss a problem of this nature. The other factor is a social one and belongs directly to the topic under discussion. The crisis in American agriculture is already at hand. The rural problem of our country will increase in direct proportion to the relative decrease in rural population. One hundred years ago there was no rural problem; by the same token there was no industrial problem. Both have arisen in the last century, and both have become acute in our time. One hundred years ago the rural community had no other social unit with which it could compare itself, excepting the few commercial cities which were thought to be wicked dens of vice. The rapid development of industrial centers presented a social situation which was graphic; employers' and workers' families lived in poorly constructed tenements, exhibiting conditions of luxury and poverty side by side, presented a problem which could not long be ignored. There grew up in American cities a humanist movement—a movement which began with philanthropy or charity toward the disadvantaged, and finally produced a technique and a program which included housing, recreation, health, adequate care for defective, delinquent, and dependent members of society, and an infinite number of other movements, all' intended to make life more tolerable for city residents. The sum total of those agencies, organizations, institutions, and movements which developed in American cities during the last century, and particularly in the last half-century, represents the organized social forces of city life. These forces soon became so effective that city life lost its dreaded aspects; parks, playgrounds, boulevards, modern schools, health supervision, food inspection, and numberless means were provided for making city life attractive. Nothing comparable to this movement occurred in country life. In fact, there was, and still is, a popular delusion to the effect that social maladjustments are peculiarly the problems of city dwellers, and that rural inhabitants, because of their free and open-air life, their habits of work, and their lack of congestion, are free from the ordinary problems incident to city life. This delusion, coupled with an undue emphasis upon the farmer's economic function, has made a socialized rural life well-nigh an impossibility. In the meantime, the cities have gone on and on with their improvements. Certain diseases, such as typhoid and hookworm, are almost entirely confined to rural areas. The country child is handicapped educationally and recreationally. Child labor laws which protect the children of the industrial worker have almost no application to the labor of country children. Those conditions, such as sanitation, health, education, and recreation, which make it possible for man to withstand the devitalizing influences of civilization, have been but slightly improved in the open country. We now know that social problems exist wherever human beings live, and that country people are not immune. By comparison, the open country is not as suitable a place in which to live and rear children as the average modern city. The essential problem of the present is to discover means whereby country life can be made to withstand a comparison with city life. Unless such a comparison results favorably to the rural community, there is no hope in American country life. As education becomes the privilege of all, rural people will become more and more determined to secure the social advantages which are denied them. There are those who believe that the farmer's problem is chiefly economic in character; they contend that the farmer, himself, will improve his social environment just as quickly as he is provided with the pecuniary profits which will make this possible. This is an old fallacy which still blocks the pathway of social progress. If economic success is to be the ideal of the American farmer, there is no incentive for him to remain in the country after he has succeeded. If, on the other hand, the farmer looks forward to farming-not as a mere vocation, but as a mode of living-his social success will not await economic success; these two processes will go hand in hand. The absurdity of economic particularism, as applied to the rural problem, appears when we consider the present state of land exploitation, the extent of tenantry, and the comparative social backwardness in those areas where agriculture has been most profitable. All the foregoing is historical and introductory. There is a social movement in American agriculture. In fact, there always has been such a movement; the Grangeone of the oldest and best-known farmers' organizations-was established in the early seventies on the avowed principle that the "farmer is more important than the farm." In the background of the farmer's consciousness there has always been a deep-seated aspiration for the things that ennoble and enrich life, but he has been ground between the upper millstone of undercapitalization and the nether millstone of economic pressure from his leaders. The United States Department of Agriculture, the agricultural colleges and experiment stations, the agricultural press, and various commercial and banking organizations have all impressed upon him the necessity for economic improvement. The voices appealing to him for social improvement have been feeble by comparison. The Roosevelt Country Life Commission presented the country-life problem in bold perspective. Its report indicated three great needs: Better farming, better business, and better living. The first two elements of this program have received more or less adequate attention; the last factor has been sorely neglected. The American Country Life Association was organized in 1919 to seek expression for the social or human aspects of country life. A number of previous meetings had been held by a small group of interested persons under the leadership of President Kenyon L. Butterfield of the Massachusetts Agricultural College at Amherst. The membership of the Association is composed of teachers of rural sociology, professional social workers, representatives of social agencies functioning in the rural field, farmers, and business and professional men and women. It has held three annual conferences in various places in the country and is rapidly increasing in membership and in influence. At the first meeting of this organization, held in Baltimore in November, 1919, a resolution was adopted calling for a conference of all national agencies actively engaged in rural social work. Out of this conference, which was held in March, 1920, has developed the National Council of Agencies Engaged in Rural Social Work. Four meetings have been held with the following results: first, the social needs of rural people have been definitely stated; second, the agencies now functioning in the field of rural social work have come to a plane of acquaintanceship and partial understanding; third, the programs of work of the rural social agencies have been tabulated and are to be printed in bulletin form; fourth, steps toward co-ordinating the work of agencies dealing with rural recreation have been taken; fifth, an attempt is being made to state in concrete form the principles involved in promoting rural social work. In short, the rural social forces are being organized. A unified American countrylife program is being formulated. With this information in mind, we may proceed to discuss the nature and extent of these forces. RURAL SOCIAL AGENCIES It will be difficult, within the space of this paper, to describe the current programs of the various social agencies at work in the rural field without slighting some and over emphasizing others. A complete category is not contemplated, but rather a running commentary on a few of the representative agencies and organizations. Governmental agencies of federal, state, and county units are promoting rural social programs. The United States Public Health Service, the United States Department of Agriculture, the Children's Bureau of the Department of Labor, and the Bureau of Education of the Department of the Interior, are definitely committed to certain aspects of rural improvement. Unfortunately, all of these agencies, with the exception of one, are so handicapped for funds and are so restricted in functions that their work is largely that of education, investigation, and publicity. They make surveys, publish |