5. Anybody who does much talking is asked a good many times, "Won't you please come round this evening and just give us a little inspiration?" There is no request that I look on more sadly, more wistfully, than I do on that. I know how little good such "inspiration" usually is because it can be given the same way as money or morphine can be given. Inspiration or courage means emotion of some kind. Nobody believes in emotion more than I do. I believe the greatest life is the life that feels the most, enjoys the most, suffers the most. But emotion is one of the most transient and unreliable of states. One may be in a most exalted and courageous state of mind at the end of a lecture, and a few hours later be as weak as an invalid, because, though courage has come, it is courage which does not provide for its reënforcement, for a new supply. We never give people help that has any permanence except when we give them reality. We try at first to help people in their woes through our own personalities. But we are not strong enough to keep anybody else afloat. We have to transmit something greater than ourselves, if possible to bring people in touch with a life-preserver that will be there after we are gone. I suppose that when we can teach people to work and give them something they can practise all their lives and get joy out of, when we teach people to play, to deal rightly with their affections, and to worship, we have given realities permanently buoyant. Our social history cards at the Red Cross Refugees' Dispensary in Paris had a great many blanks on them, which represented the blanks in our knowledge of the patients and the defects of our social work. We rarely entered deeply into our patients' lives in relation to their education, family life, recreation, religion. In our work at that Dispensary we dealt chiefly with medical facts and economic facts. To go thus far and no farther cannot satisfy many nor remake lives. That Dispensary was open but a few months and within that time, of course, nobody could expect us to enter into intimate relations with a human being's life. But if we were to work in any Dispensary for years and still not one of those cards had any note about the patient's education, recreation, family relationships, and religion, I should feel that we had failed. I should feel not only that we had done superficial work (that is often inevitable), but that we had done nothing but superficial work, which is not satisfactory. It is because we want to give people the best, not that we have but that the world contains, that we should have spaces on our social history card for notes about those things which we believe are fundamental in our own lives and which we want therefore to see constructed or increased in somebody else.