The moral tragedy of industrialism lies not in the fact that we are so bent upon mastering the material resources of the world, but in the abstraction of this mastery from the motives that started it going and that give it its only meaning. But we have not quite smothered ourselves with the works of our hands; the man within the business man, fortunately, is commonly inconsistent with business philosophy. Prosperity is not the measure of his satisfactions and desires. Though surrounded by plenty, he is restless; though efficient, he has not yet expressed himself. Something greater than industrialism is struggling to be born. The evidence of this inner struggle can be seen in Rotary clubs and similar organizations, with their effort to promote friendliness among competitors, their interest in some forms of public welfare, and their emphasis upon “service” as the test of good business management. This talk about “service” does not yet mean, of course, that Jesus’ principle has been adopted and selfish ends abandoned; it certainly means that I make the largest profits by consulting my customer’s interests as well as my own; but even so, it contains a glimmering recognition that our real interests are mutual interests. Through this recognition some warmth and enlargement are coming to the business consciousness. But there is another side to this consciousness--a side that likewise speaks of satisfactions not yet found. When men become nervously concerned for orthodoxy, assuming that an issue is already closed and that they have the key to it, we may be sure that there is a lurking skepticism within. Orthodoxy is organized distrust not only of unbelievers but also of believers, oneself included. And business orthodoxy grows apace!