An interesting development concerning the effect of alcohol upon human efficiency has come as a result of the military efforts of the last several years. It has been proven that liquor makes a poor soldier. This is true in spite of the notion that once prevailed to the effect that strong drink was a necessity in an army camp. A few cherish that notion still, but their tribe steadily decreases. About six years before the outbreak of the great war, the Bavarian ministry of war determined upon a shooting tournament in which the participating marksmen were to be under various degrees of the influence of alcohol. Thousands of shots were fired, and the results were very important and significant from both the military and the human viewpoint. It was found that a man can not hope, after taking a drink of liquor, to shoot with the accuracy that was his before. Under even the slightest degrees of intoxication the marksmanship of the participants was lowered, in many cases as much as twelve per cent. The tournament mentioned also emphasized the promptness of the effect of alcohol upon the nerves. It was discovered that the influence of a drink of liquor begins to manifest itself in a man’s marksmanship almost immediately after the beverage is taken. Five minutes suffices in any case for the results to begin to show. As moments multiply, the effect is increasingly apparent. As is true of work, war in the latest notable instance is no haphazard thing. It requires mechanical accuracy and scientific precision, and it can not be successfully carried on by a race of inebriates. However much we may hope that warfare will soon be a thing of the past, while it remains with us our only hope of escaping death in its awful clutches is our disposition and ability to maintain efficient armies. An efficient army necessarily means, for one thing, a sober one. Whether in the workshop or in the military camp, liquor and efficiency are sworn and uncompromising foes. Facing the Future (1919) It has become a common tendency on the part of a certain group of people to continually glorify the “good old days.” The type of mind possessed by this group sets the past up as a sort of fetish. As it were, they move forward with their faces turned backward. Some strange glamour about the by-gone days proves irresistibly fascinating. The past is the standard by which they judge all things. The present is good or bad to them according as it conforms or fails to conform to that standard. Such a criterion would not be so bad a thing if those who establish it only took pains to remember the past as it really was. Such is not the case, however. They remember it with all its imperfections omitted. The past which they treasure is built of dreams. It held much that was dear to them, and it came at the hopeful and exultant period of their lives. They therefore treasure its dead years in memory as a sort of acme of all the perfections which any age can possess.