Life, 1915-07-01 · page 16 of 44
Life — July 1, 1915 — page 16: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page satirizes the "Low Standard of Public Morality" (L.S.P.M.) as a corrupting force in society. The illustrated scene shows well-dressed women at leisure while a man on the right appears to be a laborer or working-class figure—suggesting class division and moral decay among the wealthy. The poem, written in the style of Walt Whitman (as noted), personifies Public Morality as a boastful entity that celebrates its own pervasiveness and power. It claims dominion over legislatures, finance, and religion, corrupting mankind into moral apathy. The satire argues that society collectively enables this decline by accepting lower moral standards than necessary. The caption criticizes a man who "reflected so long" before choosing a bride that he missed his fortune—suggesting that hesitation and poor moral judgment have real consequences. Overall, the piece is a Progressive Era critique of widespread ethical compromise in American institutions and among the public.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
This shows you aman ako reflected So long, as to hon he selected x To talte fi or a bride, thot the impatient “Tide That leads on to fortune » neglected Song of the L. S. P. M. (After Walt Whitman.) AM the Low Standard of Public Morality: I celebrate myself with a sort of singular satisfaction. there never was a time when I was not; never will there be a time when I shall not be. Hark! T am universal: Hark! Ye makers of bridges, of the gleaming rails, of towers and minarets and golden pyramids! I celebrate myself! I am not a thing of beauty: I move in no ordered rhythm; no grace possesses my thoughtless spirnt, Yet I was born to rule, From my weakness rise the mightiest empires; in the humble home of the hum- blest artisan And in the throne room of the mightiest monarch My word is law! Vice is my willing slave, and in the halls of Legislatures My subtle tide knows no brooking: surface the kings of finance, I bear on my smooth And the solemn priests presiding over the hearts of men give me their friendly obeisance. of all yielding! Lo! In the night I go forth, with Ignorance for my hand- m Tam the emperor And, touching the eyes of recumbent Man, make him cal- lous to the call of character. To the great level word, to the highest vision of Integrity And to Honor's fruitless call I render his dull ears dea he becomes as a man dead to the delicate beauty of life's highest aim Yet he is not a brute! I should do my work ill were I to make him that! Hark! I celebrate myself and I celebrate the creature of my own making—Man. Man-respectable Man, unsensitive to alabaster virtue; Man groping for something he knows not what And not finding it. I know myself! I celebrate myself, I am the Low Standard of Public Morality. I live hy the Right That Man wields to make himself no better Than he thinks it is necessary to make himself! comicbooks.com