In our material life we draw our resources from every land. Clothing,
spices, fruits, toys, household furniture,--we lay contributions on the
whole world for the most frugal meal, for the humblest dwelling. We need
the best work of every nation and every nation asks our best of us. The day
of home-brewed ale, of home-made bread, and home-spun clothing is already
past with us. Better than we can do, our neighbors send us, and we must
send our own best in return. With home-made garments also pass away
inherited politics and hereditary religion, with all the support of caste
and with all its barriers. We must work all this out for ourselves; we must
make our own place in society; we must frame our own creeds; we must live
our own religion; for no longer can one man's religion be taken
unquestionably by any other. As the world has been unified, so is the
individual unit exalted. With all this, the simplicity of life is passing
away. Our front doors are wide open as the trains go by. The caravan
traverses our front yard. We speak to millions, millions speak to us; and
we must cultivate the social tact, the gentleness, the adroitness, the
firmness necessary to carry out our own designs without thwarting those of
others. Time no longer flows on evenly. We must count our moments, so much
for ourselves, so much for the world we serve and which serves us in
return. We must be swift and accurate in the part we play in a drama so
mighty, so strenuous, and so complex.

More than any of the others, the Twentieth Century will be democratic. The
greatest discovery of the Nineteenth Century was that of the reality of
external things. That of the Twentieth Century will be this axiom in social
geometry: "A straight line is the shortest distance between two points." If
something needs doing, do it; the more plainly, directly, honestly, the
better.