judgment. Such a method is generally inferior
and unnecessary. If we desire to separate the
fine from the coarse grains in a sand-pile we do not
set to work with a microscope to measure them, grain
by grain; we use a sieve. The sieve will not
do to separate iron filings from copper filings of
exactly the same size, but here a magnet will do the
business. And so separation or selection can
almost always be accomplished by choosing an agency
adapted to the conditions; and such agencies often
act automatically without the intervention of the
human will. In a voluntary association formed
to accomplish a definite purpose we have a self-selected
group. Such a body may be freely open to the public,
as all our library clubs and associations practically
are; yet it is still selective, for no one would care
to join it who is not in some way interested in its
objects. On the other hand, the qualifications
for membership may be numerous and rigid, in which
case the selection is more limited. The ideal
of efficiency in an association is probably reached
when the body is formed for a single definite purpose
and the terms of admission are so arranged that each
of its members is eager above all things to achieve
its end and is specially competent to work for it,
the purpose of the grouping being merely to attain
the object more surely, thoroughly and rapidly.
A good example is a thoroughly trained military organization,
all of whose members are enthusiastic in the cause
for which the body is fighting—a band of
patriots, we will say—or perhaps a band
of brigands, for what we have been saying applies to
evil as well as to good associations. The most
efficient of such bodies may be very temporary, as
when three persons, meeting by chance, unite to help
each other over a wall that none of them could scale
by himself, and, having reached the other side, separate
again. The more clearly cut and definite the
purpose the less the necessity of retaining the association
after its accomplishment. The more efficient
the association the sooner its aims are accomplished
and the sooner it is disbanded. Such groups or
bodies, by their very nature are affairs of small
detail and not of large and comprehensive purpose.
As they broaden out into catholicity they necessarily
lose in efficiency. And even when they are accomplishing
their aims satisfactorily the very largeness of those
aims, the absence of sharp outline and clear definition,
frequently gives rise to complaint. I know of
clubs and associations that are doing an immense amount
of good, in some cases altering for the better the
whole intellectual or moral tone of a community, but
that are the objects of criticism because they do not
act in matters of detail.
“Why don’t they do something?” is
the constant cry. And “doing something,”
as you may presently discover, is carrying on some
small definite, relatively unimportant activity that
is capable of clear description and easily fixes the
attention, while the greater services, to the public
and to the individual, of the association’s
quiet influences pass unnoticed. The church that
has driven out of business one corner-saloon gets more
praise than the one that has made better men and women
of a whole generation in one neighborhood; the police
force that catches one sensational murderer is more
applauded than the one that has made life and property
safe for years in its community by quiet, firm pressure.