I have never been summoned for jury duty, but if I ever
should be, I shall accept with pride and in the hope that I shall not be
peremptorily challenged. It needs some such official document as a
census schedule to bring home the feeling that government and state
exist for me and my own welfare. Filling out the answers in the list
was one of the pleasant manifestations of democracy, of which paying
taxes is the unpleasant side. The printed form before me embodied a
solemn function. I was aware that many important problems depended upon
my answering the questions properly. Only then, for instance, could the
government decide how many Congressmen should go to Washington, and what
my share was of the total wealth of the country, and how I contributed
to the drift from the farm to the city, and what was the average income
of Methodist clergymen in cities of over 100,000 population.
What, then, if so many of the questions put to me by the United States
government seemed superfluous to the point of being absurd? The process
may involve a certain waste of paper and ink and time, but it is the
kind of waste without which the business of life would be impossible.
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