{"collection":"philosophy-ethics","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_19603/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_19603","id":"gutenberg_19603","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/19603","summary":null,"tags":["American literature -- Periodicals","Category: American Literature","Category: Biographies","Category: Essays, Letters & Speeches","Category: Journalism/Media/Writing","Category: Philosophy & Ethics","Category: Poetry","Category: Politics","The Arena"],"text":"Produced by Barbara Tozier, Bill Tozier, Richard J. Shiffer\nand the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at\nhttp://www.pgdp.net\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE ARENA.\n\nNo. XX.\n\nJULY, 1891.\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: (signed) Very truly Yours, Oliver Wendell Holmes.]\n\n\n\n\nOLIVER WENDELL HOLMES.\n\nBY GEORGE STEWART, D. C. L., LL. D.\n\n\nTo the year 1809, the world is very much indebted for a band of\nnotable recruits to the ranks of literature and science, statesmanship\nand military renown. One need mention only a few names to establish\nthat fact, and grand names they are, for the list includes Darwin,\nGladstone, Erastus Wilson, John Hill Burton, Manteuffel, Count Beust,\nLord Houghton, Alfred Tennyson, and Oliver Wendell Holmes. Each of\nthese has played an important part in the world's history, and\nimpressed the age with a genius that marks an epoch in the great\ndepartment of human activity and progress. The year was pretty well\nadvanced, and the month of August had reached its 29th day, when the\nwife of Dr. Abiel Holmes presented the author of \"The American Annals\"\nwith a son who was destined to take his place in the front line of\npoets, thinkers, and essayists. The babe was born at Cambridge,\nMassachusetts, in the centre of a Puritan civilization, which could\nscarcely have been in touch and harmony with the emphasized\nUnitarianism emanating from Harvard. But Abiel Holmes was a genial,\ngenerous-hearted man, and despite the severity of his religious\nbelief, contrived to live on terms of a most agreeable character with\nhis neighbors. A Yale man himself, and the firm friend of his old\nprofessor, the president of that institution, who had given him his\ndaughter Mary to wed (she died five years after her marriage), we may\nreadily believe that for a time, Harvard University, then strongly\nunder the sway of the Unitarians, had little fascination for him. But\nhis kindly nature conquered the repugnance he may have felt, and he\nsoon got on well with all classes of the little community which\nsurrounded him. By his first wife he had no children. But five, three\ndaughters and two sons, blessed his union with Sarah Wendell, the\naccomplished daughter of the Hon. John Wendell, of Boston. We may pass\nbriefly over the early years of Oliver Wendell Holmes. He was educated\nat the Phillips Academy at Exeter, and subsequently entered Harvard\nUniversity, where he was graduated, with high honors, in 1829, and\nbelonged to that class of young fellows who, in after life, greatly\ndistinguished themselves. Some of his noblest poems were written in\nmemory of that class, such as \"Bill and Joe,\" \"A Song of Twenty-nine,\"\n\"The Old Man Dreams,\" \"Our Sweet Singer,\" and \"Our Banker,\" all of\nthem breathing love and respect for the boys with whom the poet\nstudied and matriculated. Young Holmes was destined for the law, but\nChitty and Blackstone apparently had little charm for him, for after a\nyear's trial, he abandoned the field and took up medicine. His mind\ncould not have been much impressed with statutes, for all the time\nthat he was supposed to be conning over abstruse points in\njurisprudence, he was sending to the printers some of the cleverest\nand most waggish contributions which have fallen from his pen. The\n_Collegian_,--the university journal of those days,--published most of\nthese, and though no name was attached to the screeds, it was fairly\nwell known that Holmes was the author. The companion writers in the\n_Collegian_ were Simmons, who wrote over the signature of \"Lockfast\";\nJohn O. Sargent, poet and essayist, whose _nom de plume_ was \"Charles\nSherry\"; Robert Habersham, the \"Mr. Airy\" of the group; and that\nclever young trifler, Theodore Snow, who delighted the readers of the\nperiodical with the works of \"Geoffrey La Touche.\" Of these, of\ncourse, Holmes was the life and soul, and though sixty years have\npassed away since he enriched the columns of the _Collegian_ with the\nfruits of his muse, more than half of the pieces survive, and are\ndeemed good enough to hold a place beside his maturer productions.\n\"Evening of a Sailor,\" \"The Meeting of the Dryads,\" and \"The Spectre\nPig,\"--the latter in the vein of Tom Hood at his best,--will be\nremembered as among those in the collection which may be read to-day\nwith the zest, appreciation, and delight which they inspired more\nthan half a century ago. Holmes' connection with the _Collegian_ had a\nmost inspiriting effect on his fellow contributors, who found their\nwits sharpened by contact with a mind that was forever buoyant and\noverflowing with humor and good nature. In friendly rivalry, those\nkindred intellects vied with one another, and no more brilliant\ncollege paper was ever published than the _Collegian_, and this is\nmore remarkable still, when we come to consider the fact, that at that\ntime, literature in America was practically in its infancy. Nine years\nbefore, Sydney Smith had asked his famous question, \"Who reads an\nAmerican book? who goes to an American play?\" And to that query there\nwas really no answer. Six numbers of the _Collegian_ were issued, and\nthey must have proved a revelation to the men and women of that day,\nwhose reading, hitherto, had almost been confined to the imported\narticle from beyond the seas, for Washington Irving wrote with the pen\nof an English gentleman, Bryant and Dana had not yet made their mark\nin distinctively American authorship, and Cooper's \"Prairie\" was just\nbecoming to be understood by the critics and people.\n\nShaking the dust of the law office from his shoes, Oliver Wendell\nHolmes, abandoning literature for a time, plunged boldly into the\nstudy of a profession for which he had always evinced a strong\npredilection. The art and practice of medical science had ever a\nfascination for him, and he made rapid progress at the university.\nOnce or twice he yielded to impulse, and wrote a few bright things,\nanonymously, for the _Harbinger_,--the paper which Epes Sargent and\nPark Benjamin published for the benefit of a charitable institution,\nand dedicated as a May gift to the ladies who had aided the New\nEngland Institution for the Education of the Blind. In 1833, Holmes\nsailed for Paris, where he studied medicine and surgery, and walked\nthe hospitals. Three years were spent abroad, and then the young\nstudent returned to Cambridge to take his medical degree at Harvard,\nand to deliver his metrical Essay on Poetry, before the Phi-Beta-Kappa\nSociety. In this year too, 1836, he published his first acknowledged\nbook of poems,--a duodecimo volume of less than two hundred pages. In\nthis collection his Essay on Poetry appeared. It describes the art in\nfour stages, _viz._, the Pastoral or Bucolic, the Martial, the Epic,\nand the Dramatic. In illustration of his views, he furnished\nexemplars from his own prolific muse, and his striking poem of \"Old\nIronsides\" was printed for the first time, and sprang at a bound into\nnational esteem. And in this first book, there was included that\nlittle poem, \"The Last Leaf,\" better work than which Holmes has never\ndone. It is in a vein which he has developed much since then. Grace,\nhumor, pathos, and happiness of phrase and idea, are all to be found\nin its delicious stanzas:--\n\n    I saw him once before,\n    As he passed by the door,\n            And again\n    The pavement stones resound,\n    As he totters o'er the ground\n            With his cane.\n\n    They say that in his prime,\n    Ere the pruning-knife of Time\n            Cut him down,\n    Not a better man was found\n    By the Crier on his round\n            Through the town.\n\n    But now he walks the streets,\n    And he looks at all he meets,\n            Sad and wan;\n    And he shakes his feeble head,\n    That it seems as if he said,\n            \"They are gone!\"\n\n    The mossy marbles rest\n    On the lips that he has prest\n            In their bloom,\n    And the names he loved to hear\n    Have been carved for many a year\n            On the tomb.\n\n    My grandmamma has said--\n    Poor old lady, she is dead\n            Long ago--\n    That he had a Roman nose,\n    And his cheek was like a rose\n            In the snow.\n\n    But now his nose is thin,\n    And it rests upon his chin\n            Like a staff;\n    And a crook is in his back,\n    And a melancholy crack\n            In his laugh.\n\n    I know it is a sin\n    For me to sit and grin\n            At him here;\n    But the old three-cornered hat,\n    And the breeches, and all that,\n            Are so queer!\n\n    And if I should live to be\n    The last leaf upon the tree\n            In the spring,\n    Let them smile as I do now,\n    At the old forsaken bough\n            Where I cling.\n\nIn 1838, Doctor Holmes accepted his first professorial position, and\nbecame professor of anatomy and physiology at Dartmouth. Two years\nlater, he married, and took up the practice of medicine in Boston. In\n1847, he returned to his old love, accepting the Parkman professorship\nof anatomy and physiology, in the Medical School at Harvard. While\nengaged in teaching, he prepared for publication several important\nbooks and reports relating to his profession, and his papers in the\nvarious medical journals attracted great attention by their freshness,\nclearness, and originality. But it is not as a medical man that Doctor\nHolmes may be discussed in this paper. We have to deal altogether with\nhis literary career,--a career, which for its brilliancy has not been\nsurpassed on this side of the Atlantic.\n\nAs a poet he differs much from his contemporaries, but the standard he\nhas reached is as high as that which has been attained by Lowell and\nLongfellow. In lofty verse he is strong and unconventional, writing\nalways with a firm grasp on his subject, and emphasizing his perfect\nknowledge of melody and metre. As a writer of occasional verse he has\nnot had an equal in our time, and his pen for threescore years has\nbeen put to frequent use in celebration of all sorts of events,\nwhether military, literary, or scientific. Bayard Taylor said, \"He\nlifted the 'occasional' into the 'classic',\" and the phrase happily\nexpresses the truth. The vivacious character of his nature readily\nlends itself to work of this sort, and though the printed page gives\nthe reader the sparkling epigram and the graceful lines, clear-cut\nalways and full of soul, the pleasure is not quite the same as seeing\nand hearing him recite his own poems, in the company of congenial\nfriends. His songs are full of sunshine and heart, and his literary\nmanner wins by its simplicity and tenderness. Years ago, Miss Mitford\nsaid that she knew no one so thoroughly original. For him she could\nfind no living prototype. And so she went back to the time of John\nDryden to find a man to whom she might compare him. And Lowell in his\n\"Fable for Critics,\" describes Holmes as\n\n    \"A Leyden-jar full-charged, from which flit\n    The electrical tingles, of hit after hit.\"\n\nHis lyrical pieces are among the best of his compositions, and his\nballads, too few in number, betray that love which he has always felt\nfor the melodious minstrelsy of the ancient bards. Whittier thought\nthat the \"Chambered Nautilus\" was \"booked for immortality.\" In the\nsame list may be put the \"One-Hoss Shay,\" \"Contentment,\"\n\"Destination,\" \"How the Old Horse Won the Bet,\" \"The Broomstick\nTrain,\" and that lovely family portrait, \"Dorothy Q----,\" a poem with\na history. Dorothy Quincy's picture, cold and hard, painted by an\nunknown artist, hangs on the wall of the poet's home in Beacon Street.\nA hole in the canvas marks the spot where one of King George's\nsoldiers thrust his bayonet. The lady was Dr. Holmes' grandmother's\nmother, and she is represented as being about thirteen years of age,\nwith\n\n    Girlish bust, but womanly air;\n    Smooth, square forehead, with uprolled hair;\n    Lips that lover has never kissed;\n    Taper fingers and slender wrist;\n    Hanging sleeves of stiff brocade;\n    So they painted the little maid.\n\nAnd the poet goes on:--\n\n    What if a hundred years ago\n    Those close-shut lips had answered no,\n    When forth the tremulous question came\n    That cost the maiden her Norman name,\n    And under the folds that look so still,\n    The bodice swelled with the bosom's thrill!\n    Should I be I, or would it be\n    One tenth another, to nine tenths me?\n\n    Soft is the breath of a maiden's yes,\n    Not the light gossamer stirs with less;\n    But never a cable that holds so fast\n    Through all the battles of wave and blast,\n    And never an echo of speech or song\n    That lives in the babbling air so long!\n    There were tones in the voice that whispered then,\n    You may hear to-day in a hundred men.\n\n    O lady and lover, how faint and far\n    Your images hover, and here we are,\n    Solid and stirring in flesh and bone,\n    Edward's and Dorothy's--all their own,\n    A goodly record for time to show\n    Of a syllable spoken so long ago!\n    Shall I bless you, Dorothy, or forgive\n    For the tender whisper that bade me live?\n\n    It shall be a blessing, my little maid!\n    I will heal the stab of the red-coat's blade,\n    And freshen the gold of the tarnished frame,\n    And gild with a rhyme your household name;\n    So you shall smile on us brave and bright,\n    As first you greeted the morning's light,\n    And live untroubled by woes and fears\n    Through a second youth of a hundred years.\n\nDr. Holmes' coloring is invariably artistic. Nothing in his verse\noffends the eye or grates unpleasantly on the ear. He is a true\nmusician, and his story, joke, or passing fancy is always joined to a\nmeasure which never halts. \"The Voiceless,\" perhaps, as well as \"Under\nthe Violets,\" ought to be mentioned among the more tender verses which\nwe have from his pen, in his higher mood.\n\nHis novels are object lessons, each one having been written with a\nwell-defined purpose in view. But unlike most novels with a purpose,\nthe three which he has written are nowise dull. The first of the set\nis \"The Professor's Story; or, Elsie Venner,\" the second is \"The\nGuardian Angel,\" written when the author was in his prime, and the\nthird is \"A Mortal Antipathy,\" written only a few years ago. In no\nsense are these works commonplace. Their art is very superb, and while\nthey amuse, they afford the reader much opportunity for reflection.\nElsie Venner is a romance of destiny, and a strange physiological\ncondition furnishes the key-note and marrow of the tale. It is Holmes'\nsnake story, the taint of the serpent appearing in the daughter, whose\nmother was bitten by a rattle-snake before her babe was born. The\ntraits inherited by this unfortunate offspring from the reptile, find\nrapid development. She becomes a creature of impulse, and her life\nspent in a New England village, at a ladies' academy, with its social\nand religious surroundings, is described and worked out with rare\nanalytical skill, and by a hand accustomed to deal with curious\nscientific phenomena. The character drawing is admirable, the episodes\nare striking and original, and the scenery, carefully elaborated, is\nmanaged with fine judgment. Despite the idea, which to some may at\nfirst blush appear revolting and startling, there is nothing\nsensational in the book. The reader observes only the growth and\nmovement of the poison in the girl's system, its effect on her way of\nlife, and its remarkable power over her mind. Horror or disgust at her\ncondition is not for one moment evoked. The style is pure and\nennobling, and while our sympathies may be touched, we are at the same\ntime fascinated and entertained, from the first page to the last. Of\nquite different texture is \"The Guardian Angel,\" a perhaps more\nreadable story, so far as form is concerned, much lighter in\ncharacter, and less of a study. There is more plot, but the range is\nnot so lofty. It is less philosophical in tone than \"Elsie Venner,\"\nand the events move quicker. The scene of \"The Guardian Angel\" is also\nlaid in an ordinary New England village, and the object of the\nDoctor-Novelist was to write a tale in which the peculiarities and\nlaws of hysteria should find expression and development. In carrying\nout his plan, Dr. Holmes has achieved a genuine success. He has taught\na lesson, and at the same time has told a deeply interesting story,\nlightened up here and there with characteristic humor and wit. The\ncharacters of Myrtle Hazard and Byles Gridley are drawn with nice\ndiscrimination, while the sketch of the village poet, Mr. Gifted\nHopkins, is so life-like and realistic, that he has only to be named\nto be instantly recognized. He is a type of the poet who haunts the\nnewspaper office, and belongs to every town and hamlet. His lady-love\nis Miss Susan Posey, a delicious creation in Dr. Holmes' best manner.\nThese two prove excellent foils for the stronger personages of the\nstory, and afford much amusement. \"A Mortal Antipathy\" is less of a\nromance than the others. The reader will be interested in the\ndescription of a boat race which is exquisitely done.\n\nIn biographical writing, we have two books from Dr. Holmes, one a\nshort life of Emerson, and the other a memoir of Motley. Though\ncapable of writing a great biography like Trevelyan's Macaulay or\nLockhart's Scott, the doctor has not yet done so. Of the two which he\nhas written, the Motley is the better one. In neither, however, has\nthe author arrived at his own standard of what a biography should be.\n\nMechanism in thought and morals,--a Phi-Beta-Kappa address, delivered\nat Harvard in 1870,--is one of Dr. Holmes' most luminous contributions\nto popular science. It is ample in the way of suggestion and the\npresentation of facts, and though scientific in treatment, the\ncaptivating style of the essayist relieves the paper of all heaviness.\nA brief extract from this fine, thoughtful work may be given here:--\n\n     \"We wish to remember something in the course of\n     conversation. No effort of the will can reach it; but we\n     say, 'wait a minute, and it will come to me,' and go on\n     talking. Presently, perhaps some minutes later, the idea we\n     are in search of comes all at once into the mind, delivered\n     like a prepaid bundle, laid at the door of consciousness\n     like a foundling in a basket. How it came there we know not.\n     The mind must have been at work groping and feeling for it\n     in the dark; it cannot have come of itself. Yet all the\n     while, our consciousness was busy with other thoughts.\"\n\nThe literary reputation of Dr. Holmes will rest on the three great\nbooks which have made his name famous on two continents. Thackeray had\npassed his fortieth year before he produced his magnificent novel.\nHolmes, too, was more than forty when he began that unique and\noriginal book, \"The Autocrat of the Breakfast Table,\" one of the most\nthoughtful, graceful, and able investigations into philosophy and\nculture ever written. We have the author in every mood, playful and\npathetic, witty and wise. Who can ever forget the young fellow\ncalled John, our Benjamin Franklin, the Divinity student, the\nschool-mistress, the landlady's daughter, and the poor relation? What\ncharacterization is there here! The delightful talk of the autocrat,\nhis humor, always infectious, his logic, his strong common sense,\nillumine every page. When he began to write, Dr. Holmes had no settled\nplan in his head. In November, 1831, he sent an article to the _New\nEngland Magazine_, published by Buckingham in Boston, followed by\nanother paper in February, 1832. The idea next occurred to the author\nin 1857,--a quarter of a century afterwards, when the editors of the\n_Atlantic Monthly_, then starting on its career, begged him to write\nsomething for its pages. He thought of \"The Autocrat,\" and resolved,\nas he says, \"to shake the same bough again, and see if the ripe fruit\nwere better or worse than the early windfalls.\" At a bound \"The\nAutocrat\" leaped into popular favor. The reading public could hardly\nwait for the numbers. All sorts of topics are touched upon from nature\nto mankind. There is the talk about the trees, which one may read a\ndozen times and feel the better for it. And then comes that charming\naccount of the walk with the school-mistress, when the lovers looked\nat the elms, and the roses came and went on the maiden's cheeks. And\nhere is a paragraph or two which makes men think:\n\n     \"Our brains are seventy-year clocks. The angel of life winds\n     them up once for all, then closes the case, and gives the\n     key into the hand of the Angel of the Resurrection. Tic-tac!\n     tic-tac! go the wheels of thought; our will cannot stop\n     them; they cannot stop themselves; sleep cannot still them;\n     madness only makes them go faster; death alone can break\n     into the case, and seizing the ever-swinging pendulum, which\n     we call the heart, silence at last the clicking of the\n     terrible escapement we have carried so long beneath our\n     wrinkled foreheads.\n\n     \"If we could only get at them, as we lie on our pillows and\n     count the dead beats of thought after thought, and image\n     after image, jarring through the overtired organ! Will\n     nobody block those wheels, uncouple that pinion, cut the\n     string that holds those weights, blow up the infernal\n     machine with gun-powder? What a passion comes over us\n     sometimes for silence and rest!--that this dreadful\n     mechanism, unwinding the endless tapestry of time,\n     embroidered with spectral figures of life and death, could\n     have but one brief holiday! Who can wonder that men swing\n     themselves off from beams in hempen lassos?--that they jump\n     off from parapets into the swift and gurgling waters\n     beneath?--that they take counsel of the grim friend who has\n     but to utter his one peremptory monosyllable and the\n     restless machine is shivered as a vase that is dashed upon a\n     marble floor? Under that building which we pass every day\n     there are strong dungeons, where neither hook, nor bar, nor\n     bed-cord, nor drinking vessel from which a sharp fragment\n     may be shattered, shall by any chance be seen. There is\n     nothing for it, when the brain is on fire with the whirling\n     of its wheels, but to spring against the stone wall and\n     silence them with one crash. Ah, they remembered that,--the\n     kind city fathers,--and the walls are nicely padded, so that\n     one can take such exercise as he likes without damaging\n     himself on the very plain and serviceable upholstery. If\n     anybody would only contrive some kind of a lever that one\n     could thrust in among the works of this horrid automaton and\n     check them, or alter their rate of going, what would the\n     world give for the discovery?\"\n\n\"The Autocrat\" was followed by \"The Professor at the Breakfast\nTable,\"--a book in every way equal to the first one, though, to be\nsure, there are critics who pretend to see diminished power in the\nauthor's pen. It is, however, full of the same gentle humor and keen\nanalyses of the follies and foibles of human kind. It is a trifle\ngraver, though some of the characters belonging to \"The Autocrat\" come\nto the front again. It is in this book that we find that lovely story\nof Iris,--a masterpiece in itself and one of the sweetest things that\nhas come to us for a hundred years, rivalling to a degree the\ndelicious manner and style of Goldsmith and Lamb. In 1873 the last of\nthe series appeared, and \"The Poet\" came upon the scene to gladden the\nbreakfasters. Every chapter sparkles with originality. \"I have,\" says\nDr. Holmes, \"unburdened myself in this book, and in some other pages,\nof what I was born to say. Many things that I have said in my riper\ndays have been aching in my soul since I was a mere child. I say\naching, because they conflicted with many of my inherited beliefs, or\nrather traditions. I did not know then that two strains of blood were\nstriving in me for the mastery--two! twenty, perhaps, twenty thousand,\nfor aught I know--but represented to me by two--paternal and maternal.\nBut I do know this: I have struck a good many chords, first and last,\nin the consciousness of other people. I confess to a tender feeling\nfor my little brood of thoughts. When they have been welcomed and\npraised, it has pleased me, and if at any time they have been rudely\nhandled and despitefully treated, it has cost me a little worry. I\ndon't despise reputation, and I should like to be remembered as having\nsaid something worth lasting well enough to last.\"\n\nThere is much philosophy in \"The Poet,\" and if it is less humorous\nthan \"The Autocrat,\" it is more profound than either of its fellows in\nthe great trio. In it the doctor has said enough to make the\nreputations of half a dozen authors.\n\n\"One Hundred Days in Europe,\" if written by anyone else save Dr.\nHolmes, would, perhaps, go begging for a publisher. But he journeyed\nto the old land with his heart upon his sleeve. He met nearly every\nman and woman worth knowing, and the Court, Science, and Literature\nreceived him with open arms. He had not seen England for half a\ncentury. Fifty years before, he was an obscure young man, studying\nmedicine, and known by scarcely half a dozen persons. He returned in\n1886, a man of world-wide fame, and every hand was stretched out to do\nhim honor, and to pay him homage. Lord Houghton,--the famous breakfast\ngiver of his time, certainly, the most successful since the princely\nRogers,--had met him in Boston years before, and had begged him again\nand again to cross the ocean. Letters failing to move the poet,\nHoughton tried verse upon him, and sent these graceful lines:--\n\n    \"When genius from the furthest West,\n       Sierra's Wilds and Poker Flat,\n     Can seek our shores with filial zest,\n       Why not the genial Autocrat?\n\n    \"Why is this burden on us laid,\n       That friendly London never greets\n     The peer of Locker, Moore, and Praed\n       From Boston's almost neighbor streets?\n\n    \"His earlier and maturer powers\n       His own dear land might well engage;\n     We only ask a few kind hours\n       Of his serene and vigorous age.\n\n    \"Oh, for a glimpse of glorious Poe!\n       His raven grimly answers 'never!'\n     Will Holmes's milder muse say 'no,'\n       And keep our hands apart forever?\"\n\nBut he was not destined to see his friend. When Holmes arrived in\nEngland, Lord Houghton was in his grave, and so was Dean Stanley,\nwhose sweetness of disposition had so charmed the autocrat, when the\ntwo men had met in Boston a few years before. Ruskin he failed to meet\nalso, for the distinguished word-painter was ill. At a dinner,\nhowever, at Arch-Deacon Farrar's, he spent some time with Sir John\nMillais and Prof. John Tyndall. Of course, he saw Gladstone, Tennyson,\nRobert Browning, Chief Justice Coleridge, Du Maurier, the illustrator\nof _Punch_, Prof. James Bryce who wrote \"The American Commonwealth,\"\n\"Lord Wolseley,\" Britain's \"Only General,\" \"His Grace of Argyll,\"\n\"Lord Lorne and the Princess Louise,\"--one of the best amateur\npainters and sculptors in England,--and many others. Of all these\nnoted ones, he has something bright and entertaining to say. The\nuniversities laid their highest honors at his feet. Edinburgh gave him\nthe degree of LL.D., Cambridge that of Doctor of Letters, and Oxford\nconferred upon him her D. C. L., his companion on the last occasion\nbeing John Bright. It was at Oxford that he met Vice-Chancellor\nBenjamin Jowett, the Master of Balliol College, Prof. Max Mueller, Lord\nand Lady Herschell, and Prof. James Russell Lowell, his old and\nunvarying friend. The account of his visit to Europe is told with most\nengaging directness and simplicity, and though the book has no\npermanent value, it affords much entertainment for the time.\n\nThe reader will experience a feeling of sadness, when he takes up Dr.\nHolmes' last book, \"Over the Tea-cups,\" for there are indications in\nthe work which warn the public that the genial pen will write\nhereafter less frequently than usual. It is a witty and delightful\nbook, recalling the Autocrat, the Professor, and the Poet, and yet\npresenting features not to be found in either. The author dwells on\nhis advancing years, but this he does not do in a querulous fashion.\nHe speaks of his contemporaries, and compares the ages of old trees,\nand over the tea-cups a thousand quaint, curious, and splendid things\nare said. The work takes a wide range, but there is more sunshine than\nanything else, and that indefinable charm, peculiar to the author,\nenriches every page. One might wish that he would never grow old. As\nLowell said, a few years ago, in a birthday verse to the doctor:--\n\n    \"You keep your youth as yon Scotch firs,\n       Whose gaunt line my horizon hems,\n     Though twilight all the lowland blurs,\n       Hold sunset in their ruddy stems.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n    \"Master alike in speech and song\n       Of fame's great anti-septic--style,\n     You with the classic few belong\n       Who tempered wisdom with a smile.\n\n     Outlive us all! Who else like you\n       Could sift the seed corn from our chaff,\n     And make us, with the pen we knew,\n       Deathless at least in epitaph?\"\n\n\n\n\nPLUTOCRACY AND SNOBBERY IN NEW YORK,\n\nBY EDGAR FAWCETT.\n\n\nLet us imagine that a foreigner has entered a New York ball-room for\nthe first time, and let us make that foreigner not merely an\nEnglishman, but an Englishman of title. He would soon be charmed by\nthe women who beamed on every side of him. Their refinement of manner\nwould be obvious, though in some cases they might shock him by a\nshrillness and nasal harshness when speaking, while in other cases\nboth their tone and accent might repel him through extreme affectation\nof \"elegance.\" But for the most part he would pronounce these women\nbright, cultivated, and often remarkably handsome. They would not\nrequire to be amused or even entertained after the manner of his own\ncountrywomen; they would appear before him amply capable of yielding\nrather than exacting diversion, and often through the mediums of\nnimble wit, engaging humor, or an audacity at once daring and\npicturesque. But after a little more time our titled stranger would\nbegin to perceive that behind all this feminine sparkle and freshness,\nlurked a positive transport of humility. He would discover that he had\nswiftly become with these fashionable ladies an object of idolatry,\nand that all the single ones were thrilled with the idea of marrying\nhim, while all the married ones felt pierced by the sad realization\nthat destiny had disqualified them for so golden a bit of luck. He\nwould find himself assailed by questions about his precise English\nrank and standing. Had he any other title besides the one by which he\nwas currently known? How long ago was it since his family had been\nelevated to the peerage? Did he personally know the Queen or the\nPrince of Wales? Was his mother \"Lady\" anybody before she married his\nfather? Did he own several places in the country, and if so, what was\nthe name of each?\n\nThe men would naturally be less inquisitive; but then the men all\nwould have their Burke or DeBrett to consult at their clubs, and could\n\"look him up\" there as if he had been an unfamiliar word in the\ndictionary. And these male followers of fashion would, for the most\npart, distress and perplex him. He would be confronted with a mournful\nfact in our social life: the men who \"go out\" are nearly all silly\nstriplings who, on reaching a sensible age, discreetly remain at home.\n\nHe would soon begin to perceive that New York society is a blending of\nthe ludicrous and pathetic. The really charming women have two\nterrible faults, one which their fathers, husbands, and brothers have\ntaught them, and one which they have apparently contracted without\nextraneous aid. The first is their worship of wealth, their devout\ngenuflection before it as the sole choicest gift which fate can\nbestow, and the second is their merciless and metallic snobbery. They\nhave made a god of caste, and in a country where, of all other cults,\nthat of caste is the most preposterous. The men (the real grown-up\nmen, who may hate the big balls, but are nevertheless a great deal in\nthe movement as regards other gay pastimes) watch them with quiet\napprobation. Many a New York husband is quite willing that his wife\nshall cut her own grandmother if that relative be not \"desirable.\" The\nmen have not time to preen their social plumes quite so strenuously;\nthey are too busy in money-getting, and of a sort which nearly always\nconcerns the hazard of the Wall Street die. And yet quite a number of\nthe men are arrant snobs, refusing to associate with, often even to\nnotice, others whose dollars count fewer than their own. This form of\nplutocratic self-adulation is relatively modern. It is called by some\npeople a very inferior state of things to that which existed in \"the\ngood old Knickerbocker days.\" But the truth is, odious though the\nmillionnaire's ascendancy may be at present, that of the Knickerbocker\nwas once hardly less so. Vulgar, brassy, and intolerable the\n\"I'm-better-than-you\" strut and swagger of plutocracy surely is; but\nin the smug, pert provincialism of those former New York autocrats who\ndefined as \"family\" their descent of two or three generations from raw\nDutch immigrants, there was very little comfort indeed. The present\nwriter has seen something of this element; in the decade from 1865 to\n1875 it was still extremely active. Society was then governed by the\nKnickerbocker, as it is now governed by the plutocrat, and in either\ninstance the rule has been wholly deplorable. Indeed, for one cogent\nreason, if no other, poor New York stands to-day as the least\nfortunate of all great cities. Her society, from the time she ceased\nto admit herself a village up to the date at which these lines are\nwritten, has never been even faintly worthy of the name. A few years\nago the \"old residents,\" with their ridiculous claims to pedigree, had\neverything their own way. A New York drawing-room was, in those days,\nparochial as a Boston or Philadelphia tea-party. There were modish\nmetropolitan details, it is true, but the petty reign of the immigrant\nHollanders' descendants would have put to shame the laborious freaks\nand foibles of a tiny German principality. Now, having changed all\nthat, and having forced the Knickerbockers from their old places of\nvantage, the plutocrats reign supreme. To a mind capable of being\nsaddened by human materialism, pretension, braggadocio, it is all very\nmuch the same sort of affair. Our republic should be ashamed of an\naristocracy founded on either money or birth, and that thousands of\nits citizens are not only unashamed of such systems, but really glory\nin them, is merely another proof of how this country has broken almost\nevery democratic promise which she once made to the Old World.\n\nIt is easy to sneer away statements like these. It is easy to laugh\nthem off as \"mere pessimism,\" and to talk of persons with \"green\nspectacles\" and \"disordered livers.\" We have learned to know the glad\nring of the optimist's patriotic voice. If we all believed this voice,\nwe should all believe that America is the ideal polity of the world.\nAnd one never so keenly realizes that this is not true as when he\nwatches the creeds and character of society in New York. Of Londoners\nwe are apt to assert that they grovel obsequiously before their\nprince, with his attendant throng of dukes, earls, and minor\ngentlemen. This may be fact, but it is very far from being the whole\nfact. In London there is a large class of ladies and gentlemen who\nform a localized and centralized body, and whose assemblages are\nhaunts of intelligence, refinement, and good taste. In a certain sense\nthese are \"mixed,\" but all noteworthy gatherings must be that, and the\n\"smart\" and \"swagger\" sets of every great European city are nowadays\nbut a small, even a contemptible factor in its festivities.\n\nNot long ago the present writer inquired of a well-known Englishman\nwhether people of literary and artistic note were not always bidden to\nlarge and important London receptions. \"In nearly all cases, yes,\" he\nreplied. \"It has been the aim of my sister to invite, on such\noccasions, authors, artists, and actors of talent and distinction.\nThey come, and are welcomed when they come.\" He did not mention the\nname of his sister, knowing, doubtless, that I knew it. She was an\nEnglish duchess, magnificently housed in London, a beauty, and a star\nof fashion.\n\nBut our New York brummagem \"duchesses\" of yesterday are less liberal\nin their condescensions. An attractive New York woman once said to me:\n\"I told a man the other day that I was tired of meeting him\nincessantly at dinner, and that we met each other so often in this way\nas to make conversation a bore.\" Could any remark have more pungently\nexpressed the unhappy narrowness of New York reunions? How many times\nhas the dainty Mr. Amsterdam or Mrs. Manhattan ever met men and women\nof literary or artistic gifts at a fashionable dinner in Fifth or\nMadison Avenue? How many times has he or she met any such person at a\n\"patriarchs' ball\" or an \"assembly?\" Has he or she _ever_ met an actor\nof note _anywhere_, except in two or three exceptional instances?\nTrue, men and women of intellectual fame shrink from contact with our\nnoble Four Hundred. But that they should so shrink is in itself a\nscorching comment. They encounter patronage at such places, and\ngetting patronage from one's inferiors can never be a pleasant mode of\npassing one's time. That delicate homage which is the due of mental\nmerit they scarcely ever receive. Now and then you hear of a\nportrait-painter, who has made himself the rage of the town, being\nasked to dine and to sup. But he is seldom really held to be _des\nnotres_, as the haughty elect ones would phrase it, and his\npopularity, based upon insolent patronage, often quickly crumbles. The\nsolid devotion is all saved for the solid millionnaires. Frederick the\nGreat, if I recall rightly, said that an army was like a snake, and\nmoved on its stomach. Of New York society this might also be asserted,\nthough with a meaning much more luxurious. To be a great leader is to\nbe a great feeder. You must dispense terrapin, and canvas-back ducks,\nand rare brands of champagne, in lordly dining-halls, or your place is\ncertain to be secondary. You may, if a man, have the manners of a\nChesterfield and the wit of a Balzac; you may, if a woman, be\nbeautiful as Mary Stuart and brilliant as DeStael, and yet, powerless\nto \"entertain,\" you can fill no lofty pedestal. \"Position\" in New York\nmeans a corpulent purse whose strings work as flexibly as the dorsal\nmuscles of a professional toady. And this kind of toady has an\nexquisite _flair_ for your greatness and dignity the moment he becomes\nquite sure of your pecuniary willingness to back both. New York is at\npresent the paradise of parvenus, and these occasionally commit\ngrotesque mistakes in the distribution of civilities. Because you\nchose to \"stay in\" for a season or two, they will take for granted, if\nsuddenly brought in contact with you, that you have never \"been out\"\nand could not go if you tried. Of course, to feel hurt by such cheap\nhauteur proves that you are in a manner worthy of it; but even though\nyou are not in the least hurt, you cannot refrain from a thrill of\nannoyance that a country which has boasted in so loud-mouthed a way to\nEurope of having begun its national life by a wholesome scorn of all\nclass distinction, should contain citizens cursed by a spirit of such\ntawdry pride. At least the aristocracies of other lands, vicious and\nreprehensible as they have always been, are yet an evil with a certain\nmalign consistency for their support. Like those monarchies of which\nthey have formed a piteous adjunct, they have always been the\noutgrowths of a perfectly natural ignorance. Though distinct clogs to\ncivilization, their existence remains pathetically legitimate.\nNuisances, they are still nuisances with a hereditary hold on history.\nTheir chief modern claim for continuance is the fact that they were\nonce authorized by that very \"divine right\" which is now the scorn and\njest of philosophy, and that the communities which they still infest\nare yet unprepared for the shock of their extirpation. It is clear\nthat they will one day be sloughed off like a mass of dead animal\ntissue, even if they are not amputated like a living limb that has\ngrown hopelessly diseased. They are as surely doomed by the slow\nthreat of evolution as is the failure to establish trial by jury in\nRussia. They are tolerated by progress for the simple reason that\nprogress is not yet ready to destroy them. Hence are all imitations of\ntheir permitted and perpetuated folly in wofully bad taste. They are\nmore; they are an insult, when practised in such a land as ours, to\nrepublican energies, motives, and ideals. Heaven knows, we are a\ncountry with sorry enough substantiality behind her vaunts. We call\nourselves freemen, and our mines and factories are swarming with\nhaggard slaves. We declare that to be President of the United States\nis the most honorable office a man can hold, and our elected\ncandidates (except when they have the splendid self-abnegating courage\nof a Cleveland!) wade to Washington through a perfect bog of venal\npromises. We prate of our democratic institutions, and forget that\nfree trade is one of the first proofs of a free people, and that\nprotected industries are the feudalism of manufacture. We sneer at the\ncorruption of a Jeffreys or a Marlborough in the past, and concede\nthat bribery riots in our capital, and that the infernal political\ngrist-mill in New York has to-day almost as much nefarious grinding to\nget through with annually as it had when Tweed and Sweeny stood the\nboss millers that fed its voracious maw. And after all, the\nabominations of New York's politics are only a few degrees more\nrepellent than the cruelties and pusillanimities of her self-styled\npatrician horde. The highest duty of rich people is to be charitable;\nin New York the rich people make for themselves two highest duties, to\nbe fashionable and to be richer--if they can. Charity of a certain\nsort does exist among them, and it would be unfair to say that it is\nall of the pompous public sort. Much of it, indeed, is private, and\nwhen incomes, as in a few individual cases, reach enormous figures,\nthe unpretentious donations are of no slight weight. But charity is a\nvirtue that counts for nothing unless meekness, philanthropy,\naltruism, is each its acolyte. How can we expect that beings who busy\nthemselves with affairs of such poignant importance as whether they\nshall give Jones a full nod or Brown a quarter of a nod when they next\nmeet him; as whether the Moneypennys are really quite _lances_ enough\nfor them to encounter the great Gilt-edges or no, at a prospective\ndinner-party; as whether the latest Parisian tidings about bonnets are\nreally authentic or the contrary; as whether His Royal Highness has or\nhas not actually appeared at one of his imperial mamma's drawing-rooms\nin a Newmarket cutaway,--how, it is asked, can we expect that beings\nof this bent may properly heed those ghastly and incessant wants which\nare forever making of humanity the forlorn tragi-comedy it is? The\nyawp of socialism is excusably despised by plutocracy. Socialism is\nnot merely a cry of pain; if it were only that its plaints might have\nproved more effectual. It is a cry of avarice, of jealousy, and very\noften of extreme laziness as well. Every socialistic theory that we\nhave yet heard of is self-damning. Each real thinker, whether he be\nCroesus or pauper, comprehends that to empower the executive with\ngreater responsibility than it already possesses would mean to tempt\nnational ruin, and that until mankind has become a race of angels the\nhideous problem of human suffering can never be solved by vesting\nprivate property-rights in the hands of public functionaries. But the\nnote of anguish in that voice of desperation and revolt need not, for\nall this, be confused with its madder strains. The claim of poverty\nupon riches is to-day a tremendously ethical one. Help--and help wise,\nearnest, persistent--is the inflexible moral tax levied by life itself\non all who have an overplus of wealth wherewith to relieve deserving\nmisery. The occasional careless signing of a cheque, or even a visit\nnow and then among the filthy slums of Bayard and Hester Streets,\ncannot cancel these mighty obligations. And there are better ways of\nschooling the soul to recognize the magnitude and insistence of such\nobligations than by organizing ultra-select dancing-classes at\nSherry's; giving \"pink luncheons\" to a bevy of simpering female snobs;\nuncorking eight-dollar bottles of Clos de Vougeot for a fastidious\ndinner company of men-about-town; squandering three thousand dollars\non a Delmonico ball, or purchasing at vast prices the gowns and jewels\nof a deposed foreign empress. Yes, there are better ways. And for\npeople who are solely pleasure-seekers to call themselves Christian\nis, from their own points of view, blasphemy unspeakable; since\nwhatever we agnostics may say and believe about the alleged \"divinity\"\nof Christ, _they_ hold that the Galilean was the son of God, and that\nin such miraculous character he spoke when saying: \"Leave all and\nfollow me.\"\n\nThe American snob is a type at once the most anomalous and the most\nvulgar. Why he is anomalous need not be explained, but the essence of\nhis vulgarity lies in his entire absence of a sanctioning background.\nIt is not, when all is said, so strange a matter that anyone reared in\nan atmosphere of historic ceremonial and precedent should betray an\ninherent leaning toward shams and vanities. But if there is anything\nthat we Americans, as a race, are forever volubly extolling, it is our\nimmunity from all such drawbacks. And yet I will venture to state that\nin every large city of our land snobbery and plutocracy reign as twin\nevils, while in every small town, from Salem to some Pacific-slope\nsettlement, the beginnings of the same social curse are manifest. Of\ncourse New York towers in bad eminence over the entire country. Abroad\nthey are finding out the absurd shallowness of our professions. Nearly\nseven years ago an able literary man said to me in London: \"I am\nwearied, here, by the necessity of continual aristocratic patronage.\nEspecially true is this,\" he added, \"regarding all new dramatic\nproductions. Lord This and Lady That are more thought of as\npotentially occupying stalls or boxes at a first performance than is\nthe presence of the most sapient judges.\" And then again, after a\nslight pause, he proceeded: \"But I hear it is very much the same thing\nwith you. I have often longed to go to America, just for the sake of\nthat social emancipation which it has seemed to promise. But they tell\nme that in your big cities a good deal of the same humbug prevails.\" I\nassured him that he was fatally right; but I did not proceed to say,\nas I might have done, that our \"aristocracy\" rarely patronizes first\nnights at theatres, holding most ladies, and gentlemen connected with\nthe stage in a position somewhere between their scullions and their\nhead footmen.\n\nLondon laughs and sneers at New York when she thinks of her at all,\nwhich is, on the whole, not very often. If London esteemed New York of\ngreater importance than she does esteem her, the derisive laughter\nmight be keener and hence more salutary. Imagine America separated by\nonly a narrow channel from Europe, and imagine her to contain in her\nchief metropolis, as she does at present, the amazing contradictions\nand refutations of the democratic idea which are to be noted now. What\nfood for English, French, and German sarcasm would our pigmy Four\nHundred then become! In those remote realms they have already shrank\naghast at the licentious tyrannies of our newspapers. England has\nfreedom of the press, but she also has a law of libel which is not a\ncipher. Our law of libel is so horribly effete that the purest woman\non our continent may to-morrow be vilely slandered, and yet obtain no\nadequate form of redress. This is what our extolled \"liberty\" has\nbrought us--a despotism in its way as frightful as anything that\nRussia or the Orient can parallel. Is it remarkable that such\nrelatively minor abuses as those of plutocracy and snobbery should\ntorment us here in New York when bullets of journalistic scandal are\nwhizzing about our ears every day of our lives, and those who get\nwounds have no healing remedy within their possible reach? Some one of\nour clever novelists might take a hint for the plot of a future tale\nfrom this melancholy state of things. He might write a kind of new\nMonte Cristo, and make his hero, riddled and stung by assaults of our\nunbridled press, find but a single means of vengeance. That means\nwould be the starting of a great newspaper on his own account, and the\ntriumphant cannonading of his foes through its columns. More\ninfluential New York editors would doubtless already have forced their\nway within the holy bounds of patrician circles, were it not that, in\nthe first place editors are somewhat hard-worked persons, and that in\nthe second place they are usually men of brains.\n\nMarriage, among the New York snobs and plutocrats, ordinarily treats\nhuman affection as though it were a trifling optic malady to be cured\nby a few drops of corrective lotion. Daughters are trained by their\nmothers to leave no efforts untried, short of those absolutely\nimmoral, in winning wealthy husbands. Usually the daughters are\ntractable enough. Rebellion is rare with them; why should it not be?\nAlmost from infancy (unless when their parents have made fortunes with\nprodigious quickness) they are taught that matrimony is a mere hard\nbargain, to be driven shrewdly and in a spirit of the coolest\nmercantile craft. Sometimes they do really rebel, however, mastered by\npure nature, in one of those tiresome moods where she shows the\ninsolence of defying bloodless convention. Yet nearly always\ncapitulation follows. And then what follows later on? Perhaps\nheart-broken resignation, perhaps masked adultery, perhaps the\ndegradation of public divorce. But usually it is no worse than a\nsilent disgusted slavery, for the American woman is notoriously cold\nin all sense of passion, and when reared to respect \"society\" she is a\nsnob to the core. Some commentators aver that it is the climate which\nmakes her so pulseless and prudent. This is possible. But one deeply\nfamiliar with the glacial theories of the fashionable New York mother\nmight find an explanation no less frigid than comprehensive for all\nher traits of acquiescence and decorum. How many of these fashionable\nmothers ask more than a single question of the bridegrooms they desire\nfor their daughters? That one question is simply: \"What amount of\nmoney do you control?\" But constantly this kind of interrogation is\nneedless. A male \"match\" and \"catch\" finds that his income is known to\nthe last dollar long before he has been graduated from the senior\nclass at Columbia or Harvard. Society, like a genial feminine\nBriaraeus, opens to him its myriad rosy and dimpled arms. He has only\nto let a certain selected pair of these clutch him tight, if he is\nrich enough to make his personality a luring prize. Often his morals\nare unsavory, but these prove no impediment. The great point with\nplutocracy and snobbery is to perpetuate themselves--to go on\nproducing scions who will uphold for them future generations of\nselfishness and arrogance. One sees the same sort of procreative\ntendency in certain of our hardiest and coarsest weeds. Sometimes a\ngardener comes along, with hoe, spade, and a strong uprooting animus.\nIn human life that kind of gardener goes by the ugly name of\nRevolution. But we are dealing with neither parables nor allegories.\nThose are for the modish clergymen of the select and exclusive\nchurches, and are administered in the form of dainty little religious\npills which these gentlemen have great art in knowing how to palatably\nsugar.\n\n\n\n\n\"SHOULD THE NATION OWN THE RAILWAYS?\"\n\nBY C. WOOD DAVIS.\n\nPART I.--OBJECTIONS TO NATIONAL OWNERSHIP CONSIDERED.\n\n\nWhen the paper published in the February ARENA, entitled \"The Farmer,\nthe Investor, and the Railway,\" was written, the writer was not ready\nto accept national ownership as a solution of the railway problem; but\nthe occurrences attending the flurries of last autumn in the money\nmarkets, when half a dozen men, in order to obtain control of certain\nrailways, entered into a conspiracy that came near wrecking the entire\nindustrial and commercial interests of the country, having shed a\nlurid light upon the enormous and baleful power which the corporate\ncontrol of the railways places in the hands of what Theodore Roosevelt\naptly termed \"the dangerous wealthy classes,\" has had the effect of\nconverting to the advocacy of national ownership not only the writer\nbut vast numbers of conservative people of the central, western, and\nsouthern States to whom the question now assumes this form: \"Which is\nto be preferred: a master in the shape of a political party that it is\npossible to dislodge by the use of the ballot, or one in the shape of\nten or twenty Goulds, Vanderbilts, Huntingtons, Rockefellers, Sages,\nDillons, and Brices who never die and whom it will be impossible to\ndislodge by the use of the ballot?\" The particular Gould or Vanderbilt\nmay die, as did that Vanderbilt to whom was ascribed the aphorism \"The\npublic be damned,\" but the spirit and power of the Goulds and\nVanderbilts never dies.\n\n\nOBJECTIONS TO NATIONAL OWNERSHIP.\n\nThe objections to national ownership are many; that most frequently\nadvanced and having the most force being the possibility that, by\nreason of its control of a vastly increased number of civil servants,\nthe party in possession of the federal administration at the time\nsuch ownership was assumed would be able to perpetuate its power\nindefinitely. As there are more than 700,000 people employed by the\nrailways, this objection would seem to be well taken; and it indicates\nserious and far-reaching results _unless_ some way can be devised to\nneutralize the political power of such a vast addition to the official\narmy.\n\nIn the military service we have a body of men that exerts little or no\npolitical power, as the moment a citizen enters the army he divests\nhimself of political functions; and it is not hazardous to say that\n700,000 capable and efficient men can be found who, for the sake of\nemployment, to be continued so long as they are capable and\nwell-behaved, will forego the right to take part in political affairs.\nIf a sufficient number of such men can be found, this objection would,\nby proper legislation, be divested of all its force. At all events no\ntrouble from such a source has been experienced since Australian\nrailways were placed under control of non-partisan commissions, such a\ncommission, having had charge of the Victorian railways since\nFebruary, 1884, or a little more than one term, they being appointed\nfor seven years instead of for life, as stated by Mr. W. M. Acworth in\nhis argument against government control.\n\nThe second objection is that there would be constant political\npressure to make places for the strikers of the party in power, thus\nadding a vast number of useless men to the force, and rendering it\nprogressively more difficult to effect a change in the political\ncomplexion of the administration.\n\nThat this objection has much less force than is claimed is clear from\nthe conduct of the postal department which is, unquestionably, a\npolitical adjunct of the administration; yet but few useless men are\nemployed, while its conduct of the mail service is a model of\nefficiency after which the corporate managed railways might well\npattern. Moreover, if the railways are put under non-partisan control,\nthis objection will lose nearly if not quite all its force.\n\nA third objection is that the service would be less efficient and cost\nmore than with continued corporate ownership.\n\nThis appears to be bare assertion, as from the very nature of the case\nthere can be no data outside that furnished by the government-owned\nrailways of the British colonies, and such data negatives these\nassertions; and the advocates of national ownership are justified in\nasserting that such ownership would materially lessen the cost, as any\nexpert can readily point out many ways in which the enormous costs of\ncorporate management would be lessened. With those familiar with\npresent methods, and not interested in their perpetuation, this\nobjection has no force whatever.\n\nThe fourth objection is that with constant political pressure\nunnecessary lines would be built for political ends.\n\nThis is also bare assertion, although it is not impossible that such\nresults would follow; yet such has not been the case in the British\ncolonies where the governments have had control of construction. On\nthe other hand, it is notorious that under corporate ownership, and\nsolely to reap the profits to be made out of construction, the United\nStates have been burthened with useless parallel roads, and such\ncorporations as the Santa Fe have paralleled their own lines for such\nprofits. It is quite safe to say that when the nation owns the\nrailways there will be no nickel-plating, nor will such an unnecessary\nexpenditure be made as was involved in the construction of the \"West\nShore\"; nor will the feat of Gould and the Santa Fe be repeated of\neach building two hundred and forty miles, side by side, for\nconstruction profits, much of which is located in the arid portion of\nKansas where there is never likely to be traffic for even one railway.\nMuch of the republic is covered with closely parallel lines which\nwould never have been built under national ownership, and this process\nwill continue as long as the manipulators can make vast sums out of\nconstruction.\n\nA fifth objection is that with the amount of red-tape that will be in\nuse, it will be impossible to secure the building of needed lines.\n\nWhile such objection is inconsistent with the fourth it may have some\nforce; but as the greater part of the country is already provided with\nall the railways that will be needed for a generation, it is not a\nvery serious objection even if it is as difficult as asserted to\nprocure the building of new lines. It is not probable, however, that\nthe government would refuse to build any line that would clearly\nsubserve public convenience, the conduct of the postal service\nnegativing such a supposition; and for party purposes the\nadministration would certainly favor the construction of such lines as\nwere clearly needed, and it is high time that only such should be\nbuilt; and what instrumentality so fit to determine this as a\nnon-partisan commission acting as the agent of the whole people?\n\nThe sixth objection is that lines built by the government would cost\nmuch more than if built by corporations.\n\nPossibly this would be true, but they would be much better built and\ncost far less for maintenance and \"betterments,\" and would represent\nno more than actual cost; and such lines as the Kansas Midland,\ncosting but $10,200 per mile, would not, as now, be capitalized at\n$53,024 per mile; nor would the President of the Union Pacific (as\ndoes Sidney Dillon, in the _North American Review_ for April,) say\nthat \"A citizen, simply as a citizen, commits an impertinence when he\nquestions the right of a corporation to capitalize its properties at\nany sum whatever,\" as then there would be no Sidney Dillons who would\nbe presidents of corporations, pretending to own railways built wholly\nfrom government moneys and lands, and who have never invested a dollar\nin the construction of a property which they have now capitalized at\nthe modest sum of $106,000 per mile. After such an achievement, in\nmaking much out of nothing, it is no wonder that Mr. Dillon is a\nmulti-millionnaire and thinks it an impertinence when a citizen asks\nhow he has discharged his trust in relation to a railway built wholly\nwith public funds, no part of which Mr. Dillon and his associates seem\nin haste to pay back; their indebtedness to the government, with many\nyears of unpaid interest, amounting to more than $50,000,000, which is\nmore than the cash cost of the railway upon which these men have been\nso sharp as to induce the government, after furnishing all the money\nexpended in its construction, to accept a second mortgage, and now ask\nthe same accommodating government to reduce the rate of\ninterest--which they make no pretence of paying--to a nominal figure,\nand to wait another hundred years for both principal and interest. To\nmake sure that the government's second mortgage shall be no more\nvaluable than second mortgages usually are, and to make it more\ncomfortable for the manipulators, Messrs. Gould and Dillon now propose\nto put a blanket first mortgage of $250,000,000 on this property,\nbuilt wholly from funds derived from the sale of government lands and\nbonds, and to pay the interest on which bonds the people are yearly\ntaxed, although Mr. Dillon and his associates contracted to pay such\ninterest. In his conception of the relations of railway corporations\nto the public, Mr. Dillon is clearly not in accord with the higher\ntribunals which hold, in substance, that railways are public rather\nthan private property, and that the shareholders _are entitled to but\na reasonable compensation for the capital actually expended in\nconstruction_ and a limited control of the property; and in this\nconnection it may be well to quote briefly from decisions of the\nUnited States Supreme Court, which, in the case of Wabash Railway\n_vs._ Illinois, uses this language: \"The highways in a State are the\nhighways of the State. The highways are not of private but of public\ninstitution and regulation. In modern times, it is true, government is\nin the habit, in some countries, of letting out the construction of\nimportant highways, requiring a large expenditure of capital, to\nagents, generally corporate bodies created for the purpose, and giving\nthem the right of taxing those who travel or transport goods thereon\nas a means of obtaining compensation for their outlay; but a\nsuperintending power over the highways, and the charges imposed upon\nthe public for their use, always remains in the government.\" Again, in\nOlcott _vs._ the Supervisors, it is held that: \"Whether the use of a\nrailway is a public or private one depends in no measure upon the\nquestion who constructed it or who owns it. It has never been\nconsidered of any importance that the road was built by the agency of\na private corporation. No matter who is the agent, the function\nperformed is that of the State.\"\n\nMr. Justice Bradley says: \"When a railroad is chartered it is for the\npurpose of performing a duty which belongs to the State itself.... It\nis the duty and prerogative of the State to provide means of\nintercommunication between one part of its territory and another.\"\n\nIf, as appears, such is the duty of the State (nation) why should not\nthe State resume the discharge of this duty when the corporate agents\nto which it has delegated it are found to be using the delegated power\nfor the purpose of oppressing and plundering a public which it is the\nduty of the government to protect?\n\nThe abilities of the man who cannot become a multi-millionnaire with\nthe free use, for twenty-five years, of $33,000,000 of government\nfunds, must be of a very low order, and it is no wonder, that after\nhaving for so many years had the use of such a sum without payment of\ninterest, Mr. Dillon and his associates are very wealthy, and, like\nothers who are retaining what does not belong to them, think it an\nimpertinence when the owner inquires what use they are making of\nproperty to which they have no right. Had the nation built the Union\nPacific there would have been no \"Credit-Mobilier\" and its unsavory\nscandal, and it is safe to say that the road would not now be made to\nrepresent an expenditure of $106,000 per mile, and that Mr. Dillon and\nsome others would not have so much money as to warrant them in putting\non such insufferable airs. When it is remembered what use Oakes Ames\nand the Union Pacific crew made of issues of stock, it is not at all\nsurprising that the president of the Union Pacific should think it an\nimpertinence for a citizen to question the amount of capitalization or\nthe use to which a part of such issues have been put, some of which\nare within the knowledge of the writer, so far as relates to issues of\nthat part of the Union Pacific lying in Kansas and built by Samuel\nHallett, who told the writer that he gave a member of the then federal\ncabinet several thousand shares of the capital stock of the \"Union\nPacific Railway, Eastern Division,\"--now the Kansas Division of the\nUnion Pacific--to secure the acceptance of sections of the road which\nwere not built in accordance with the requirements of the act of\nCongress, which provided that a given amount of government bonds per\nmile should be delivered to the railway company when certain officials\nshould accept the road; and it was a quarrel with the chief engineer\nof the road in relation to a letter written by such engineer to\nPresident Lincoln, informing him of the defective construction of this\nroad, that caused Samuel Hallett to be shot down in the streets of\nWyandotte, Kansas, by engineer Talcott. It is within the knowledge of\nthe writer that the member of the cabinet to whom Mr. Hallett said he\ngave several thousand shares of stock, held an amount of Union Pacific\nshares years afterwards, and that many years after he left the cabinet\nhe continued to draw a large salary from the Union Pacific Company.\nMr. Hallett also told the writer what were the arguments applied to\ncongressmen to induce them to change the government lien from a first\nto a second mortgage of the Pacific Railway lines, and what was his\ncontribution in dollars to the fund used to enable congressmen to see\nthe force of the arguments. When issues of railway shares are used for\ncorrupt purposes it is certainly an impertinence for a citizen to make\ninquiries or offer any remarks in relation thereto.\n\nThe seventh objection to State owned railways is that they are\nincapable of as progressive improvement as are corporate owned ones,\nand will not keep pace with the progress of the nation in other\nrespects; and in his _Forum_ article Mr. Acworth lays great stress\nupon this phase of the question, and argues that as a result the\nservice would be far less satisfactory.\n\nThere may be force in this objection, but the evidence points to an\nopposite conclusion. When the nation owns the railways, trains will\nrun into union depots, the equipment will become uniform and of the\nbest character, and so sufficient that the traffic of no part of the\ncountry would have to wait while the worthless locomotives of some\nbankrupt corporation were being patched up, nor would there be the\npresent difficulties in obtaining freight cars, growing out of the\npoverty of corporations which have been plundered by the manipulators,\nand improvements would not be hindered by the diverse ideas of the\nmanagers of various lines in relation to the adoption of devices\nintended to render life more secure or to add to the public\nconvenience. That such is one of the evils of corporate management is\ndemonstrated daily, and is shown by the following from the _Railway\nReview_ of March 7, 1891: \"It is stated that a bill will be introduced\nin the Illinois Legislature, at the suggestion of the railroad and\nwarehouse commissioners, governing the placing of interlocking plants\nat railway grade crossings. It sometimes happens that one of the\ncompanies concerned is anxious to put in such a plant and the other\nobjects. At present there is no law to govern the matter, and the\nenterprising company is forced to abide the time of the other.\"\nInstead of national ownership being a hindrance to improvement and\nenterprise, the results in Australia prove the contrary, as in\nVictoria the government railways are already provided with\ninterlocking plants at all grade crossings, and one line does not have\nto wait the motion of another, but all are governed by an active and\nenlightened policy which adopts all beneficial improvements,\nappliances or modes of administration that will add either to the\npublic safety, comfort, or convenience. It is safe to say that had\nthe nation been operating the railways, there would have been no\nFourth Avenue tunnel horror; and Chauncey Depew and associates would\nnot now be under indictment, as the government would not have\ncontinued the use of the death-dealing stove on nearly half the\nrailways in the country in order to save money for the shareholders.\n\nExisting evidence all negatives Mr. Acworth's postulate \"that State\nrailway systems are incapable of vigorous life.\"\n\nAn objection to national ownership, which the writer has not seen\nadvanced, is that States, counties, cities, townships, and\nschool-districts would lose some $27,000,000 of revenue derived from\ntaxes upon railways.\n\nWhile this would be a serious loss to some communities, there would be\ncompensating advantages for the public, as the cost of transportation\nwould be lessened in like measure.\n\nMany believe stringent laws, enforced by commissions having judicial\npowers, will serve the desired end, and the writer was long hopeful of\nthe efficacy of regulation by State and national commissions; but\nclose observation of their endeavors and of the constant efforts--too\noften successful--of the corporations to place their tools on such\ncommissions, and to evade all laws and regulations, have convinced him\nthat such control is and must continue to be ineffective, and that the\nonly hope of just and impartial treatment for railway users is to\nexercise the \"right of eminent domain,\" condemn the railways, and pay\ntheir owners what it would cost to duplicate them; and in this\nconnection it may be well to state what valuations some of the\ncorporations place upon their properties.\n\nSome years since the \"Santa Fe\" filed in the counties on its line a\nstatement showing that at the then price of labor and materials--rails\nwere double the present price--that their road could be duplicated for\n$9,685 per mile, and the materials being much worn the actual cash\nvalue of the road did not exceed $7,725 per mile.\n\nIn 1885 the superintendent of the St. Louis & Iron Mountain Railway,\nbefore the Arkansas State board of assessors, swore that he could\nduplicate such railway for $11,000 per mile, and yet Mr. Gould has\nmanaged to float its securities, notwithstanding a capitalization of\nfive times that amount.\n\n                 (_Concluded next month_.)\n\n\n\n\nTHE UNKNOWN.[1]\n\nPART II.\n\nBY CAMILLE FLAMMARION.\n\n      [1] Translated by G. H. A. Meyer and J. Henry Wiggin,\n          from the manuscript of Camille Flammarion.\n\nThe human soul would seem to be a spiritual substance, endowed with\npsychical force, capable of acting outside bodily limits. This force,\nlike all others, may be transmissible into the form of electricity or\nheat, or may be capable of bringing into activity certain latent\nenergies while it yet remains intimately united with our mental being.\n\nWe propound questions to the table, already impressed with our nervous\nimpetus, on subjects interesting to ourselves; and then we ourselves\nunconsciously inspire the responses. The table speaks to us in our own\nlanguage, giving back our own ideas, within the limits of our own\nknowledge, conversing with us about our opinions and views, as we\nmight discuss them with ourselves. This is absolutely the\nreflection--direct or remote, precise or vague--of our own feelings\nand thoughts. All my efforts to establish the identity of a stranger\nspirit, unknown to the persons present, have failed.\n\nOn the other hand, attentive examination of different communications\nleads us toward a conclusion as to their origin. When amidst the\nMarquis de Mirville's revelations, one is in the full swing of Roman\nCatholic diabolism--demons, spirits, purgatory, miracles,\nprayers,--nothing is lacking. With the Count de Gasparin, we are in\nthe bosom of Rational Protestantism, which is absolutely the opposite\nof the other. Here are no present miracles, no devils, but simply a\nphysical agency, a fluid obedient to volition. In the experiences of\nEugene Nus's circle, we find the language of Fourier discoursing about\nthe phalanstery, about racial solidarity, and socialistic religion.\nTherein are found earthly music chanted in space,--songs of Saturn and\nJupiter dictated under the influence of Alyre Bureau, who was the\nmusician for the spiritualist society of Allan-Kardec. Here we have\ndisembodied spirits of all ranks, and this is the apostolate of their\nreincarnation.\n\nIn the United States, on the contrary, the moving tables declare that\nthe hypothesis of reincarnation is absurd and misleading; and it may\nbe assumed that none of the persons present, especially the ladies,\nwould for one moment admit the possibility of being some day\nreincarnated beneath the skin of a negro. A brilliant imagination,\nlike that of Sardou, will picture to us Jupiter's castles; a musician\nmay receive the revelation of a musical composition, more or less\ncharming; an astronomer may be favored with astronomical\ncommunications. Is this physical auto-suggestion? Not absolutely,\nsince the force goes outside of ourselves, in order to act. It is\nrather _mental_ suggestion; yet an idea cannot be suggested to a piece\nof wood. This is, therefore, the direct action of the mind. I cannot\nfind a better name for it than _psychical force_, a term, as already\nstated, which I have used since 1865, and which has since become the\nfashion.\n\nThe action of mind, outside the body, has other testimony, however.\nMagnetism, hypnotism, suggestion, telepathy prove this every day. It\ncannot be disputed that here also we encounter many illusions.\n\nSome ten years ago a learned physician at Nice, Doctor Barety, the\nauthor of \"La Force Neurique Rayonnante et Circulante\" (The Radiation\nand Circulation of Nervous Force) devoted himself to ingenious\nexperiments in the distant transmission of thought as observable in a\nmagnetized person. In these experiments, in which I assisted, it\nseemed to me that the subject's sense of hearing amply sufficed to\nexplain the results.\n\nTake one case. The subject began to count aloud, while the magnetizer\nwas in an adjoining room, the door standing open between them. At a\ncertain moment the doctor, with all his energy, projected his \"nervous\nfluid\" from his hands, and the magnetized subject forthwith ceased\ncounting; yet the doctor's linen cuffs made enough noise to indicate\nwhat he commanded, though no word was spoken. During the experiments\nat Salpetriere and at Ivry, to which Doctor Luys was kind enough to\ninvite me, I thought I observed that a previous knowledge of the\nsequence of the experiments furnished a wide margin for the exercise\nof the personal faculties of the young women upon whom the experiments\nwere made. These suspicions, however, did not prevent certain facts in\nregard to mental suggestion from being absolutely incontestable.\n\nHere is one among others:--\n\nDoctor Ochorowiez was attending a lady troubled with long-standing\nhysterio-epilepsy, aggravated by a maniacal inclination to suicide.\nMadame M. was twenty-seven years of age, and had a vigorous\nconstitution. She appeared to be in excellent health. Her active and\ngay temperament was united with extreme moral sensibility. Her\ncharacter was specially truthful. Her profound goodness was tinctured\nwith a tendency toward self-sacrifice. Her intelligence was\nremarkable. Her talents were many, and her perceptive faculties were\ngood. At times she would display a lack of willpower, and an element\nof painful indecision; while at other times she showed exceptional\nfirmness. The slightest moral fatigue, any unexpected impression,\nthough of trifling importance, whether agreeable or otherwise,\nreacted, although slowly and imperceptibly, upon her vaso-motor\nnerves, and brought on convulsive attacks and a nervous swoon. Writes\nDr. Ochorowiez in his work on Mental Suggestion:\n\n     One day, or rather one night, her attack being over\n     (including a phase of delirium), the patient fell quietly\n     asleep. Awaking suddenly, and seeing us (one of her female\n     friends and myself) still near her, she begged us to go\n     away, and not to tire ourselves needlessly on her account.\n     She was so persistent that, fearing a nervous crisis, we\n     departed. I went slowly downstairs, for she resided on the\n     fourth story, and I paused several times to listen\n     attentively, troubled by an evil presentiment; for she had\n     wounded herself several times a few days before. I had\n     already reached the courtyard, when I paused again, asking\n     myself whether or not I ought to go away.\n\n     All at once her window opened with a slam, and I saw the\n     sick woman leaning out with a rapid motion. I rushed to the\n     spot where she might fall; and mechanically, without\n     attaching any great importance to the impulse, I\n     concentrated all my will in one great desire to oppose her\n     precipitation.\n\n     The patient was influenced, however, though already leaning\n     far out, and retreated slowly and spasmodically from the\n     window. The same movements were repeated five times in\n     succession, until the patient, seemingly fatigued, at last\n     remained motionless, her back leaning against the casement\n     of the window, which was still open.\n\n     She could not see me, as I was in the shadow far below, and\n     it was night. At that moment, her friend, Mademoiselle X.,\n     ran in, and caught madame in her arms. I heard them\n     struggling together, and hastened up the stairs to\n     mademoiselle's assistance. I found the invalid in a frenzy\n     of excitement. She did not recognize us, but mistook us for\n     robbers. I could only draw her away from the window by using\n     violence enough to throw her upon her knees. Several times\n     she tried to bite me; but after much trouble, I succeeded in\n     replacing the poor lady in her bed. While maintaining my\n     grasp with one hand, I induced a contraction of her arms,\n     and finally put her to sleep.\n\n     When again in a somnambulistic state, her first words were:\n     \"Thanks!--pardon!\"\n\n     Then she told me that she positively intended to throw\n     herself out of the window, but that each time she felt as if\n     she were \"stayed from below.\"\n\n     \"How so?\"\n\n     \"I do not know.\"\n\n     \"Did you have any suspicion of my presence?\"\n\n     \"No! it was precisely because I believed you away, that I\n     proposed to carry out my design. However, it seemed to me at\n     times that you were near me, or behind me, and that you did\n     not want me to fall.\"\n\nHere is another experiment still more striking. Pierre Janet,\nProfessor of Philosophy in the Havre Lycee, and Monsieur Gibert, a\nphysician, selected as a subject for their observation a certain\nwoman, a native of Brittany. She was fifty years old, robust, and\nmoderately sensitive to hypnotic influences. On October 10, 1885, they\nagreed upon the following command:\n\n     To-morrow, at noon, lock the doors of your house.\n                                                         W.\n\nThis suggestion Dr. Janet inscribed upon a sheet of paper, which he\ncarried about in his pocket, not communicating its purport to anybody.\nDr. Gibert made the suggestion by placing his forehead against the\nwoman's, while she was in a lethargic slumber; and for a few moments\nhe concentrated his mind upon the mental command he was giving.\n\nWrites Janet concerning this incident:\n\n     On the morrow we went to the house, at fifteen minutes\n     before twelve, and found the entrance barricaded and the\n     doors locked. Inquiry proved that madame herself had closed\n     them. When I asked her, next day, why she had done such a\n     strange thing, she replied: \"I felt very tired, and did not\n     want you to come in and put me to sleep.\"\n\n     She was greatly agitated at the time. She continually\n     wandered about the garden, and I saw her pluck a rose, and\n     go towards the letter-box, which was near the gate. These\n     actions were of no importance; but it is curious to note\n     that these last actions were precisely those the day before\n     we had thought of ordering her to perform, though we\n     afterwards decided upon a different suggestion, namely, that\n     of locking the doors. Undoubtedly his first suggestion\n     occupied Gibert's mind while he was giving the second, and\n     had a corresponding influence over the woman.\n\nHere is still another experiment, related by Doctor Dusart:\n\n     Every day, before leaving a certain young patient, I\n     commanded her to sleep until a specified hour the next day.\n     Once I came away, forgetting this precaution, and I was\n     seven hundred yards away before I thought of it. Being\n     unable to retrace my steps, I said to myself that my wish\n     might perhaps be felt, notwithstanding the distance, since a\n     silent suggestion was sometimes obeyed at an interval of one\n     or two yards. I therefore formulated my command that she\n     should sleep until eight o'clock the next morning, and then\n     kept on my way. The next day I called again, at half-past\n     seven, and found my patient still asleep.\n\n     \"How happens it that you are still asleep?\"\n\n     \"Why, Monsieur, I am obeying your orders.\"\n\n     \"You are mistaken. I went away without giving any such\n     command!\"\n\n     \"That is so! but five minutes later I distinctly heard you\n     tell me to sleep until eight o'clock.\"\n\n     As it was not yet eight, and as eight was the hour I usually\n     indicated, the possibility suggested itself that her\n     awakening was the result of an illusion, arising from habit,\n     and perhaps, after all, this was a case of simple\n     coincidence. In order to make a clean breast of it, and\n     leave no room for doubt, I ordered the invalid to sleep\n     until she should receive a command to awake.\n\n     During the day, having a few spare moments, I resolved to\n     complete the experiment. On leaving my house, seven\n     kilometers away, I mentally gave the order for her to wake\n     up. I noticed that it was two o'clock. On reaching the house\n     I found her awake. Her parents, following my advice, had\n     noted the precise time of her awakening. It was the very\n     hour at which I gave the command.\n\n     This experiment was repeated several times, at different\n     hours, and always with kindred results.\n\nThis is really very interesting; but here is something which appears\nmore extraordinary.\n\n     On the first of January I discontinued my visits, and my\n     relations to the family ceased. I had not even heard them\n     spoken of; yet on January 12, as I was making some visits in\n     an opposite direction, ten kilometers away from my former\n     patient, I found myself wondering if it was still possible\n     to make her hear my mental commands, despite the distance\n     separating us, despite the cessation of my relations to the\n     family, and despite the intervention of a third party, the\n     father himself, who was magnetizing his daughter. I\n     therefore bade the patient not fall asleep. Half an hour\n     later, reflecting that if, by some extraordinary chance, my\n     command was obeyed, this might prejudice the mind of the\n     unfortunate girl against me, I withdrew my prohibition, and\n     dismissed it from my thoughts. On the following morning, at\n     six o'clock, I was greatly surprised by the arrival of a\n     messenger, bringing me a letter from the father of the young\n     lady, in which he informed me that on the day before,\n     January 12, at ten o'clock in the forenoon, he was unable to\n     put his daughter to sleep, except by a prolonged and\n     disagreeable struggle. When she at last fell asleep she\n     declared that if she had resisted, it was because of my\n     command, and that she finally fell asleep only because I\n     permitted it.\n\n     These declarations had been made before witnesses, whom the\n     father had asked to countersign his report. I have preserved\n     this letter, and have added a few circumstantial details\n     thereto.\n\n     It is, therefore, probable that, with an exact knowledge or\n     phenomenal conditions, we may eventually be able to mentally\n     transmit entire thoughts to distant points, as is done now\n     by telephone.\n\nIndependently of magnetism, it is difficult not to believe that two\npersons, mutually dear to each other, although separated by certain\ncircumstances, may remain united by their thoughts, with a tenacity\nwhich nothing can disturb, especially if the circumstances are grave.\nThe thoughts of the one react upon the mind of the other, as if the\nbeatings of one heart could transmit themselves to another heart.\nThere is a certain psychical tie between the two; and at the time when\none especially concentrates his voluntary force upon the other, it is\nnot unusual for the latter to feel the reaction, and be plunged into a\nrevery even more intense. The transmission of thought--or, to speak\nmore exactly, _suggestion_,--is, under these conditions, a matter for\nobservation, which might frequently be applied.\n\nI shall not here consider the phenomena of telepathy or ghosts.\nReaders of THE ARENA have been favored with Mr. Wallace's excellent\narticles on this point, and it would be superfluous to reconsider it.\nNo doubt our readers are also acquainted with the examples reported in\nmy work called Urania, and have long been aware that I believe in the\npossibility of communications between invisible beings and ourselves.\nIn the point of view at which I have placed myself in this technical\nand essentially scientific outline, I have taken care to carefully\ndistinguish the things seen by myself from those which I have not\nseen.\n\nI do not belong to the same class with those who say: \"We have not\nseen it, and therefore it cannot be.\" There are honest people\neverywhere. There are, perhaps, few exact observers, capable of\nreporting facts, without changing anything in their recitals; but\nthere are witnesses we cannot well gainsay.\n\nHere, for example, is a letter among many recently addressed to me,\nrelative to certain extraordinary facts.\n\n     Your work, Urania, has prompted me to bring to your\n     knowledge an event which I heard related by the very person\n     to whom it happened,-a Danish physician, named Vogler,\n     residing at Gudum, near Alborg, in Jutland.\n\n     Vogler is a man of robust health, both in mind and body. He\n     has an upright and positive disposition, without the least\n     tendency (but quite the contrary) to nervous excitability.\n\n     He related to me the following story, which I have often\n     heard confirmed by others as the unadorned and exact truth.\n\n     When a young man, studying medicine, he travelled in Germany\n     with Count Schimmuelmann, a noted name among the nobility of\n     Holstein, who was about his own age. They hired a small\n     house in a German university town where they proposed to\n     stay for sometime. The Count lived in the apartments on the\n     ground floor, while Vogler occupied the next story; and the\n     street door, as well as the stairway, were used by\n     themselves alone. One night, when Mr. Vogler was reading in\n     bed, he suddenly heard the door at the foot of the stairs\n     open and shut; but he did not pay any attention to it,\n     believing the Count had just come in. A few moments later he\n     heard slow and tired footsteps ascend the stairs, and stop\n     at his chamber door. He saw the door open, but nobody\n     appeared. The footsteps did not cease, however, for he heard\n     them on the floor, advancing from the door to the bed. He\n     could see absolutely nothing, although the light was\n     continuously burning; and he could not understand the\n     affair, not recognizing the footsteps. When the steps had\n     drawn very near the bed, he heard a great sigh, which he at\n     once recognized as that of his grandmother, whom he had left\n     in good health at their home in Denmark. At the same instant\n     he also recognized the step, which was, indeed, the halting\n     and aged step of his grandmother. Looking at his watch,\n     which he had placed under his pillow, Vogler noted the exact\n     hour, and made a memorandum of it, for he at once surmised\n     that his grandmother might be dying at the very instant. At\n     a later day he received a letter from the paternal home,\n     announcing the sudden death of his grandmother, who\n     particularly cherished him above the other grandchildren.\n     This established the fact that her death occurred at the\n     very hour indicated. In this manner did the venerable woman\n     take leave of her grandson, who did not even know of her\n     illness.\n\n                                             EDWARD HAMBRO,\n       _Counselor-at-law, and Secretary of Public Works\n                                     in the City of Christiana._\n\nHere, as may be seen, is a fact, observed as precisely as a scientific\nexperiment; and it might be added to those I have published in Urania.\n\nI will adduce one more fact, which was observed very long ago, in\n1784, by my great-grandfather, on my mother's side.\n\nIt occurred in Illand, a little village in the county of Bar, which\nto-day belongs to the Department of Haute-Marne, not far from the\nnative place of both my maternal grandfather and myself. In childhood\nI spent all my vacations there among the vine-planted hills, face to\nface with gracious landscapes, amid forests alive with bird songs. The\nhouse yet stands in which the incident happened. It is at the entrance\nof the village, on the right, and is called the Chateau. One evening\nmy great-grandmother, on returning from her work in the fields,\nperceived, by the huge chimney-corner (which can still be seen), her\nbrother, who had been dead several months. He was seated, and seemed\nto be warming himself. \"My God!\" she exclaimed in affright, \"it's our\ndead Rolet!\" and then she ran away. Her husband, entering in his turn,\nalso saw his brother-in-law sitting by the fireplace. At that critical\nmoment one of the farm hands uttered an oath, and the apparition\nvanished.\n\nI give this narrative as it was related to me. No misgivings as to the\nreality of the vision existed in the minds of the personages in my\ngrandmother's household.\n\nAllow me to mention another illustration. In February, 1889, I\nreceived from H. Van der Kerkhare the following communication,\nrelating to an article I had published about this class of phenomena.\n\n     While in Texas, on August 25, 1874, towards sunset, I was\n     smoking my after-dinner pipe in a room on the ground floor\n     of the house I occupied. I was facing the wall, with a door\n     on my right opening towards the northwest. Here is a diagram\n     of the scene.\n\n     [Illustration]\n\n     Suddenly I saw my old grandfather in the doorway. I was in\n     that semi-conscious state of well-being and quietude natural\n     to a man with a good appetite who has dined satisfactorily.\n     I was not at all astonished to see my grandfather there. In\n     fact, I was vegetating just then, thinking of nothing in\n     particular. Nevertheless, I said to myself:--\"It is droll\n     that the rays of the setting sun should pour gold and purple\n     through the least folds of my grandfather's garments and\n     face.\" In fact, the setting sun was red, and threw its last\n     horizontal rays diagonally athwart the doorway. Grandfather\n     had a beneficent countenance. He smiled and seemed happy.\n     All at once he disappeared along with the vanishing sun, and\n     I roused myself as from a dream, but with the conviction\n     that I had seen an apparition. Six weeks afterwards I was\n     apprised by letter that my grandfather had died on the night\n     of August 25 and 26 between one and two o'clock. Well, there\n     is a difference of five and one-half hours between the\n     longitude of Belgium, where my grandfather died, and the\n     longitude of Texas where I was, and where the sun set at\n     about seven o'clock.\n\nIt would be easy to cite a large number of similar cases. Let me end\nthis section with the following conclusion of Ch. Richet, the learned\neditor of the _Revue Scientifique_:--\n\n     Unless we discredit the value of all human testimony, these\n     stories are veritable and accurate. Whenever kindred\n     incidents are reproduced by experiment, telepathy will no\n     longer be disputed, but admitted as a natural phenomenon, as\n     well proven as the rotation of the earth, or as the\n     contagion of tuberculosis. To-day's audacious theories will,\n     in a few years, seem almost like infantile truisms.\n\nWe have now come to the closing section of this already long\nessay,--namely, to the explanation of such phenomena as table-tipping,\nspirit rapping and dictation, and distant transmission of thought. Let\nus confess that it is much easier to unfold and discuss such facts,\nthan to determine their _modus operandi_. I will add that, even if in\nthe present state of our knowledge, it is impossible to explain these\nfacts, there is no shadow of a reason for rejecting them.\n\nThe theory with which we conclude has been anticipated by the\npreceding sections.\n\nWhat is the universe? What is nature? What are beings? What are\nthings?\n\nFrom astronomy to physiology, everything constrains us to allow the\nexistence of at least two elements--force and matter.\n\nThe order and laws of the universe, together with human thought and\nconsciousness, lead us to admit (besides force and matter) a third\nelement--intelligence; for speaking only of the constituency of our\nplanet, no chemical combination whatever has ever been known to\nproduce an idea.\n\nForce directs. Matter obeys.\n\nForce is invisible and so is matter.\n\nAll matter whatsoever is composed of atoms, too infinitesimal for our\nperception, and even invisible beneath the most powerful microscope\nbut whose existence is demonstrated by chemistry, as well as by\nphysics. The molecules of iron, gold, hydrogen, oxygen, carbon, appear\nto be groups of atoms. Even if we deny the existence of atoms, and\nadmit only the existence of molecules, they also are invisible.\n\nMatter, therefore, in its very essence, is invisible. Our eyes behold\nonly motion and transitory forms. Our hands touch only appearances.\nHardness and softness, heat and cold, weight and lightness, are\nrelative, not absolute conditions.\n\nWhat we call matter is only an effect produced upon our senses by the\nmotion of atoms,--that is to say, by our unceasing receptivity to\nsensations.\n\nThe universe is a dynamic conglomerate. Atoms are in perpetual motion,\ncaused by forces. All is movement. Heat, light, electricity,\nterrestrial magnetism, do not exist as independent agents. They are\nbut modes of motion. That which actually exists is force. It is force\nthat sustains the universe. It is force that projects the earth into\nspace. It is force that constitutes living creatures.\n\nThe human soul is a principle of force. Thought is a dynamic act.\nPsychical force acts upon the matter composing our bodies, and\nactuates all our members to fulfil their tasks. Like all forces,\npsychical force can transform itself, can become electricity, heat,\nlight, motion; for these are all modes of motion. Psychical force is\nitself in motion.\n\nIt can act outside the limits of the human organism, and can\ntemporarily animate a table. I place my hands on a round table, with a\nfirm desire to see it obey my will. I communicate to it a certain\nheat, a certain electricity, a certain polarization, or a certain\nother something we have not yet discovered. The stand becomes, so to\nspeak, an extension of my body, and submits to the influence of my\nwill. I look at a person. I take his hand. I thus act upon him.\n\nMore than this. If the brain of another person vibrates in unison with\nmine, or has at one in harmony with the keynote of my own brain, I can\nact upon him, even from a distance.\n\nIf I emit a sound a few yards from a piano, those piano-strings which\nare in harmony with my utterance will vibrate, and themselves send\nforth a kindred sound, easily distinguishable.\n\nA telegraph wire transmits a despatch: A neighboring wire is\ninfluenced by induction; and it has been possible, by the aid of this\nsecond and separate wire, to read messages sent over the first.\n\nThere is still more to be said. The principle of the transformation of\nforce to-day opens to us new views which might well be called\nmarvellous. We every day make use of the telephone, without thinking\nthat it is, in itself, more astonishing than all the occult facts\nconsidered in this paper.\n\nYou speak. Your voice is transmitted ten or twenty thousand\nkilometers, from Paris to Marseilles, and even farther away. You think\nit is your own voice which is heard and recognized at the other end of\nthe wire; but it is not; your voice has not made the journey. Sound of\nitself, in its ordinary state, is not transmitted with anything like\nthe rapidity attending this flight over the copper wire. If it were\notherwise, we should have to wait seven hours and twenty-four seconds\nfor a response, whereas there is no appreciable delay in the\ntelephonic passage of sound. The usual vocal velocity becomes electric\nvelocity, and the interval between the terminal stations of the wire\nis traversed instantaneously. On reaching its destination, the current\nagain transforms itself into sound through its encounter with a\nmedial, an environment like that at its starting-point.\n\nIs the conductive wire indispensable? By no means! Is there a\nconnecting wire between the sun and the earth? Yet the spots on the\nsun occasion rebounds in the variations of terrestrial magnetism. In\nthe photophone the conductive wire has already been dispensed with,\nand a ray of light is used in its place. You speak behind a mirror,\nand thus cause it to vibrate. These vibrations modify the reflection\nof light from the vibrating mirror, which thus bears along your voice,\nwith which it becomes charged. Selenium, the chemical element used in\nthe operation, transmits the sound to the telephone, and your spoken\nword is reproduced.\n\nThe principal of the transformation of forces is undoubtedly one of\nthe most prolific in modern physics. Heat can be transformed into\nmechanical motion; mechanical motion may be transformed into heat.\nElectricity is transformable into magnetism; and, reciprocally,\nmagnetism may change into electricity, into light. The motion of the\nmill-wheel serves to illuminate your house. From Paris you can light a\nlamp in Brussels. When you act from afar upon another mind, it is not\nyour thought which travels, as a mental condition; but your thought\ntraverses the intervening ether through a series of vibrations as yet\nunknown to us, and only becomes thought again when brought into\ncontact with another brain, because the last transference brings the\nimpulse into a medium akin to that from which it started. It is\ntherefore necessary that this second brain should be in sympathy with\nyours; that is to say, using one of Doctor Ochorowiez's expressions,\nthat \"the dynamic tone\" of the receiver should be in accord with your\nown. It is, moreover, noticeable that there are periods when veritable\nthought-currents affect thousands of brains at the same moment. At the\nbottom of all this there is but one principle, and that is identical\nwith the relation existing between the magnet and the iron, between\nthe sun and the earth,--namely, the transmission and transformation of\nmotion. Herbert Spencer has said:--\n\n     The discovery that matter, so simple in appearance, is\n     wonderfully complicated in its vital structure,--and that\n     other discovery, that its molecules, oscillating with a\n     rapidity almost infinite, convey their impressions to the\n     surrounding ether, which, in turn, transmits them over\n     inconceivable distances, in an inconceivably short space of\n     time,--these discoveries lead us to the even more marvellous\n     discovery, that any kind of molecules are affected in a\n     special manner by molecules of the same kind, though\n     situated in the most distant regions of space.\n\nIt requires but one step more for the admission that psychical\ncommunications may be established between an inhabitant of Mars and an\ninhabitant of the earth.\n\nWe are often asked what all these studies amount to. That is still\nunknown. If they should end in a scientific proof of the existence and\nimmortality of the soul, these investigations would forthwith surpass\nin value all other human sciences put together, without a single\nexception.\n\nIt must be acknowledged that this reason is a sufficient authorization\nfor us not to despise this class of researches. But this argument is\nneedless. These investigations relate to the unknown, and that reason\nis all-sufficient.\n\nDid Galvani in examining the convulsions of his frogs, have any idea\nof the immense, the prodigious, the universal part which electric\nscience was to perform in less than a century? Denis Papin and Robert\nFulton, Benjamin Franklin and James Watts, Jouffroy and Daguerre,--all\nthe inventors, all the searchers after truth,--were they wrong in\nlosing themselves in their pursuit of the unknown? It is such men who\ncause the advance of humanity. It is to them mankind owes its\nprogress.\n\nIf it were proved, we say, that there exists outside of us, and even\nwithin us, an immaterial and spiritual force, which eludes the known\nprocesses of nature, and the acknowledged laws of life,--and which\nreveals itself by other processes and other laws, which do not\nsupplant the first, but take an equal place beside them, this new\nknowledge might enlighten somewhat the shadows which now conceal the\ngreat secret of the origin and destiny of such poor beings as\nourselves.\n\nFirst of all, let us seek the truth. To be sure, Taine has written\nvery wittily: \"I never thought that a truth could be of any practical\nuse!\" but we may not be of the same mind, and may think, on the\ncontrary, that the search for truth is the prime object of men's\nintellectual existence.\n\n\n\n\nTHE SWISS AND AMERICAN CONSTITUTIONS,\n\nBY W. D. McCRACKAN.\n\n\nThe study of federalism, as a system of government, has in recent\ntimes become a favorite subject for constitutional writers. At present\nthe United States and the Dominion of Canada on this continent, the\nnewly constituted Australian Commonwealth at the Antipodes, and in\nEurope the German Empire, the Austro-Hungarian Empire, and the Swiss\nConfederation are all examples of the application of the federal\nprinciple in its various phases. What makes all researches into this\nbranch of political learning particularly difficult, and perhaps for\nthat reason also exceptionally fascinating, is the fact that federated\nstates seem forever oscillating between the two extremes of complete\ncentralization and decentralization. The two forces, centripetal and\ncentrifugal, seem to be always pulling against each other, and\nproducing a new resultant which varies according to their\nproportionate intensity. One is almost tempted to say that there must\nbe an ideal state somewhere between these two extremes, some point of\nperfect balance, from which no nation can ever depart very far without\neither falling apart into anarchy or being consolidated into\ndespotism. Whatever, therefore, can throw light upon these obscure\nforces is certainly entitled to our deepest interest.\n\nBut not all the different states mentioned above as representatives of\nfederalism, possess an equal value for us in our search after\nimprovements in the art of self-government. The study of the\nconstitutions of the German and Austro-Hungarian empires can only be\nof secondary importance to us Americans, because these states are\nfounded upon monarchical principles, quite foreign to our body\npolitic. To a limited extent, the same objection may be made to the\nCanadian and Australian constitutions, since the connection of those\ncountries with the monarchical mother country has not been\nconstitutionally severed. But there is another federated state in\nexistence, until lately almost ignored by writers on political\nsubjects, whose example can in reality be of the utmost use to us, for\nits general organization more nearly resembles our own in miniature\nthan any other. This country is Switzerland. In her quiet fashion the\nunobtrusive little Confederation is working out some of the great\nmodern problems, and her citizens, with their natural aptitude for\nself-government, are presenting object lessons which we especially in\nAmerica cannot afford to overlook. It is true that political analogies\nare sometimes a little perilous, for identical situations can never be\nreproduced in different countries, but if there be any virtue at all\nin the study of comparative politics, a comparison between the Federal\nconstitutions of Switzerland and the United States ought to throw into\nrelief some features which can be of service to us.\n\nTo be perfectly frank, the Swiss constitution, when placed side by\nside with our own, at first shows certain decided short-comings. The\nConstitution of the United States is an eminently logical,\nwell-balanced document, in which a masterly distinction is made\nbetween the executive, legislative, and judicial functions of\ngovernment, and between matters which belong by nature to organic law,\nand those which may safely be left to the statute law. In the Swiss\nconstitution, however, the line which separates these departments is\nnot as clearly drawn, so that, in fact, a certain amount of confusion\nin their treatment becomes apparent. In the primitive leagues which\nwere concluded between the early Confederates no attempt was made to\ndraw up regular constitutions, and the one now in force dates only\nfrom 1848, with amendments made in 1874, 1879, and 1885, an instrument\nstill somewhat imperfect, perhaps, but none the less suggestive to the\nstudent.\n\nThere are two institutions in the Swiss state which bear a very strong\nlikeness to corresponding ones in our own. Both countries have a\nlegislative system consisting of two houses, one representing the\npeople numerically, and the other the Cantons or States of which the\nUnion is composed, and both possess a Supreme Court, which in\nSwitzerland goes by the name of the Federal Tribunal. It is generally\nconceded that the Swiss consciously imitated these American\ninstitutions, but in doing so they certainly took care to adapt them\nto their own particular needs, so that the two sets of institutions\nare by no means identical. The Swiss National Council and Council of\nStates, forming together the Federal Assembly, are equal, co-ordinate\nbodies, performing the same functions, whereas our House of\nRepresentatives and Senate have particular duties assigned to each,\nand the former occupies in a measure a subordinate position to the\nlatter. The Swiss Houses meet twice a year in regular sessions, on the\nfirst Monday in June and the first Monday in December, and for extra\nsessions if there is special unfinished business to transact. The\nNational Council is composed at present of 147 members, one\nrepresentative to every 20,000 inhabitants. Every citizen of\ntwenty-one is a voter; and every voter not a clergyman is eligible to\nthis National Council--the exclusion of the clergy is due to dread of\nreligious quarrels, with which the pages of Swiss history have been\nonly too frequently stained. A general election takes place every\nthree years. The salary of the representatives is four dollars a day,\nwhich is forfeited by non-attendance, and about five cents a mile for\ntravelling expenses. On the other hand, the Council of States is\ncomposed of forty-four members, two for each of the twenty-two\nCantons. The length of their terms of office is left entirely to the\ndiscretion of the Cantons which elect them, and in the same manner\ntheir salaries are paid out of the Cantonal treasuries. There are\ncertain special occasions when the two houses meet together and act in\nconcert: first, for the election of the Federal Council, which\ncorresponds in a general way to our President and his Cabinet;\nsecondly, for the election of the Federal Tribunal; thirdly, for that\nof the Chancellor of the Confederation, an official whose duties seem\nto be those of a secretary to the Federal Council and Federal\nAssembly, and fourthly, for that of the Commander-in-Chief in case of\nwar. The attributes of the Swiss Federal Tribunal, though closely\nresembling those of our Supreme Court, are not identical with them,\nfor the Swiss conception of the sovereignty of the people is quite\ndifferent from our own. Their Federal Assembly is the repository of\nthe national sovereignty, and, therefore, no other body can override\nits decisions. The Supreme Court of the United States tests the\nconstitutionality of laws passed by Congress which may be submitted to\nit for examination, thus placing itself as arbiter over the\nrepresentatives of the people; but the Federal Tribunal must accept as\nfinal all laws which have passed through the usual channels, so that\nits duty consists merely in applying them to particular cases without\nquestioning their constitutionality.\n\nIf there is a certain resemblance between the Federal Assembly and our\nCongress, and between the Federal Tribunal and our Supreme Court,\nthere is on the other hand a striking difference between the Federal\nCouncil and our presidential office.\n\nThe Swiss Constitution does not intrust the executive power to one\nman, as our own does, but to a Federal Council of seven members,\nacting as a sort of Board of Administration. These seven men are\nelected for a fixed term of three years, out of the ranks of the whole\nbody of voters throughout the country, by the two Houses, united in\njoint session. Every year they also designate, from the seven members\nof the Federal Council, the two persons who shall act as President and\nVice-President of the Swiss Confederation. The Swiss President is,\ntherefore, only the chairman of an executive board, and presents a\ncomplete contrast to the President of the United States, who is\nvirtually a monarch, elected for a short reign. Sir Henry Maine says\nin his book on \"Popular Government,\" that somewhat exasperating but\nalways instructive arraignment of democracy: \"On the face of the\nConstitution of the United States, the resemblance of the President of\nthe United States to the European king, and especially to the King of\nGreat Britain, is too obvious to mistake. The President has, in\nvarious degrees, a number of powers which those who know something of\nkingship in its general history recognize at once as peculiarly\nassociated with it and with no other institution.\" In truth he is\nvested with all the attributes of sovereignty during his term of\noffice. He holds in his hand the whole executive power of the\ngovernment; he is Commander-in-Chief of the army and navy; possesses a\nsuspensory veto upon legislation and the privilege of pardoning\noffences against Federal law, and finally is intrusted with an\nappointing power unparalleled in any free country. With all this\nauthority he is still a partisan by reason of the manner of his\nelection, so that he cannot possibly administer his office\nimpartially, and must, from the necessity of the case, forward the\ninterests of one political party at the expense of the rest. It is\ncertainly worthy of consideration whether the Swiss Federal Council\ndoes not contain valuable suggestions for reformers who desire to\nhasten the triumph of absolute democracy in the United States.\n\nThe institution of the Referendum has no counterpart in our own\ncountry, unless we except the somewhat unwieldy provisions in various\nStates for the revisions of their constitutions by popular vote. It is\nundoubtedly the most successful experiment in applying the principles\nof direct government which has been made in modern times. Having\nalready written more fully upon this subject in the March number of\nTHE ARENA, the writer will here confine himself to reminding the\nreaders of this review that the referendum is an institution by means\nof which laws framed by the representatives are submitted to the\npeople for rejection or approval. It is significant of the interest\nwhich the referendum is already exciting in this country that a\ncommittee of gentlemen recently presented themselves at the State\nHouse to urge the adoption of this principle in local matters.\n\nThere are, besides, a host of minor differences between the Swiss and\nAmerican Constitutions, of more or less interest to students of\npolitics and economics.\n\nThe central government in Switzerland maintains a university, the\nPolytechnic at Zuerich, and by virtue of the constitution also exerts\nan influence over education throughout the Confederation. Article 27\nprescribes that the Cantons shall provide compulsory primary\ninstruction to be placed in charge of the civil authorities and to be\ngratuitous in all public schools. In practice these provisions have\nbeen found difficult to enforce where the spirit of the population was\nopposed to them, as in Uri, the most illiterate of the Cantons, where\nthe writer found educational matters entirely in the hands of the\npriesthood. Fortunately, however, the Swiss people at large have a\nvery keen appreciation of the value of education, so that illiteracy,\nas we have it in this country, among the negroes and the poor whites\nof the South, as well as amongst certain classes of our immigrants, is\nreally unknown in Switzerland. Someone has jestingly said that there\n\"the primary business of the state is to keep school,\" and really, in\ntravelling through the country which gave birth to Pestalozzi, one is\ncontinually impressed with the size and comparative splendor of the\nschoolhouses; in every village and hamlet they have the appearance of\nbeing the very best which the community by scrimping and saving can\npossibly put up. On the subject of import duties, the Constitution\nlays down in Article 29 as general rules to guide the conduct of\nlegislators, that \"materials which are necessary to the industries and\nagriculture of the country shall be taxed as low as possible; the same\nrule shall be observed in regard to the necessaries of life. Articles\nof luxury shall be subjected to the highest taxes.\" From this set of\nprinciples it will be seen that Switzerland levies her duties for\nrevenue only, as the phrase is, although it must be confessed that\nthere is a perceptible tendency now manifested to raise the duties in\nconsequence of the high protectionist wave which is sweeping over the\ncontinent of Europe at the present moment. When the statistics of\nSwitzerland's general trade, including all goods in transit, which, of\ncourse, make a considerable portion of the whole, are compared with\nthose of other European states, it is found that she possesses a\ngreater amount of general trade per head of population than any other\ncountry, more even than England. The telegraph and telephone systems\nare managed by the central government, as well as the post office,\nwith excellent results. Not only are these departments conducted in an\nexemplary manner upon cheap terms, but a respectable revenue is also\nderived from them which makes a good showing in the annual budget.\nEverything which is connected with the army, from the selection of the\nrecruits to the election of the Commander-in-Chief, also possesses\nexceptional interest, because Switzerland is the only country in the\nworld which has so far succeeded in maintaining an efficient militia\nwithout the vestige of a standing army. An attempt was made in 1885 to\ndeal with the evils of intemperance, by establishing a state monopoly\nof the manufacture and sale of spirituous liquors, the Revenue thus\nderived being apportioned amongst the Cantons according to population,\nwith the proviso that ten per cent. of it be used by them to combat\nthe causes and effects of alcoholism in their midst. It is too early\nto speak of the final results of this legislation, but for the moment\nthere seems to be a decided falling off in the consumption of the\ncruder and more injurious qualities. Amongst other matters which the\nFederal authorities have brought under their supervision, are the\nforests, river improvements, ordinary roads, and railroads, and\nbridges, etc., not managing them all directly, but reserving the right\nto regulate them at will. Even hunting and fishing come within the\njurisdiction of the central government, this constitutional power\nhaving been used to preserve the chamois in certain mountain ranges\nwhere they were threatening to disappear completely, but where, thanks\nto timely interference, they are now actually on the increase.\n\nApart from these constitutional provisions, the general drift of\nlegislative action seems to have set in very strongly towards a mild\nform of state socialism, somewhat after the form of the Prussian\nsystem, but with this difference, that in the case of Switzerland it\nis the people who unite to delegate certain powers to the state, while\nin the latter country this policy is imposed upon the people from\nabove by the ruling authorities. The altogether exceptional clauses in\nthe Swiss Constitution referring to the exclusion of the Jesuits, a\nsurvival of the war of 1848, to the so-called Heimatlosen, or those\nwho have no commune of origin, and to the police appointed to control\nthe movements of foreign agitators seeking the asylum of the country,\nall these have a purely local interest, and need not be especially\nexamined.\n\nWhat, then, is the peculiar mark and symbol of the Swiss Constitution,\ntaken as a whole? When all has been said and done, the most\ncharacteristic provisions are those which introduce forms of direct\ngovernment or of pure democracy, as the technical expression is. The\nsupremacy of the legislative branch, as representing the people, the\npeculiar make-up of the Federal Council, the limited powers of the\nFederal Tribunal, and above all the institution of the referendum, are\nall evidences of this tendency toward direct government. In the\nCantonal governments the same quality is still more apparent, for it\nis from them that the Swiss Federal Constitution has borrowed the\nprinciples which underlie these characteristic provisions. In point of\nfact, representative democracy has never felt quite at home in\nSwitzerland; there has always been an effort to revert to simpler,\nmore straightforward methods; to reduce the distance which separates\nthe people from the exercise of their sovereignty; and to constitute\nthem into a court of final appeal.\n\nIn view of the marvellous stability which the pure democracy of\nSwitzerland has displayed, there is something comical in the horror of\nall forms of direct government expressed by most constitutional\nwriters. De Tocqueville, whom we honor for his appreciation of our own\nConstitution, declares \"that they all tend to render the government of\nthe people irregular in its action, precipitate in its resolutions,\nand tyrannical in its acts.\" Mr. George Grote also condemns the\nreferendum, and of course one cannot expect pure democracy to be\npraised by Sir Henry Maine, who believes that \"the progress of mankind\nhas hitherto been effected by the rise and fall of aristocracies.\" On\nthe other hand it is refreshing to hear Mr. Freeman and Mr. Dicey\nactually discussing the practicability of introducing the referendum\ninto the English political system.\n\nAfter all, is not this very quality of directness a great\nrecommendation, when we consider the rubbish which at present clogs\nthe wheels of our political machinery, the complications which confuse\nthe voter and hide the real issues from his comprehension? The very\nepithets pure and direct satisfy at once our best aspirations and our\ncommon sense. If monarchy is the government of one, oligarchy that of\na few, and democracy that of many, surely there will some day arise\nthe rule of all. The United States seems to be standing at the parting\nof two ways, one of which leads back in a vicious circle to plutocracy\nand despotism, while the other advances towards a genuine pure\ndemocracy. No nation can stand still. Which way shall it be?\n\n\n\n\nTHE TYRANNY OF ALL THE PEOPLE.\n\nBY REV. FRANCIS BELLAMY.\n\n\nDr. Whewell observed that the acceptance of every new idea passed\nthrough three stages: 1. It is absurd; 2. It is contrary to the Bible;\n3. We always believed it. Change the second stage to, It is\nunscientific, and the diagram may apply to socialism. We have\ncertainly emerged from the period when it was considered a valid\nargument to call socialism somebody's dream. It is now treated with a\nscientific earnestness which betrays its progress in general thought.\nThis serious grappling with the subject is noted in the recent \"Plea\nfor Liberty,\" by some of Mr. Herbert Spencer's disciples, for which\nMr. Spencer himself has written an elaborate introduction.\n\nThe same earnestness is felt in the masterly editorial, \"Is Socialism\nDesirable?\" in THE ARENA for May. This is a solid contribution to the\npermanent literature of the subject. It is not a surprise that it has\ncommanded such wide attention. Its deep thoughtfulness, its strategic\nselection of only vital points for its attack, and, not the least, its\nkindliness and chivalry, mark it as a notable production. I truly\nappreciate the honor of being chosen by this knightly antagonist to\nface the attack on his own sands.\n\nIt is not without some question, however, that I accept the generous\nchallenge. For I am not sure that I myself believe in the military\ntype of socialism which the editor seems continually to have in mind.\nThe book, which more than all others combined has brought socialism\nbefore American thought, has also furnished to its opponents a\nsplendidly clear target in its military organization. It cannot be\nrepeated too often, however, that the army type is not conceded by\nsocialists to be an essential, even, of nationalistic socialism.\nDemocratic socialism differs considerably from military socialism, and\nmay be fully as national in its reach. In so far as Mr. Flower's\narguments apply to democratic socialism, the following paragraphs may\nbe taken as a rejoinder.\n\nTo bring the chief counts of the editor's indictment again clearly\nbefore the readers, it will be well to summarize them:--\n\n(1) National socialism means governmentalism, which is tyranny over\nthe individual.\n\n(2) National socialism means paternalism, which, exercised by all the\npeople, is the most hopeless kind of tyranny.\n\n(3) National socialism means the arrest of progress, because the\nmajority will surely tyrannize over the small \"vanguard of human\nprogress.\"\n\n(4) National socialism will be needless when the people are educated\nto the fraternalism which alone could temper the inevitable despotism\nof the majority.\n\nThere is a period in every agitation of a new idea when the most\nprosperous weapon against it is a thumping epithet. The name must be\napt enough to stick. Furthermore, no matter how misleading, it must be\nsuggestive of sinister things.\n\n\"Governmentalism\" is such a word. In its etymology it is harmless\nenough. Governmental is the adjective of government, and means\n\"exercising the powers of government.\" Governmentalism, therefore,\nmeans the exercise of the powers of government considered as a\nprinciple. But the word when made the bogy of socialism is supposed to\nmean the principle of the exercise of the powers of government raised\nto the _nth_ degree, and separated from the people. It suggests a\nshadowy somewhat of officialdom; a Corliss engine of functionaryism;\nall of which is thought of as apart from the people, yet pressing upon\nthe people. In other words, the name \"governmentalism,\" while intended\nas a word of opprobrium for socialism, really indicates the amazing\nmisconception which the critics have of the nation itself, and of the\nrelation of the nation's life to its self-direction.\n\nThe nation is not an aggregate of the Smiths, and Joneses, and\nRobinsons. It is a favorite formula with the opponents of the new\nschool that the nation is but a multitude of individuals. So is a\nsand-heap. But in the nation the individual atoms are linked by mutual\nobligations. They are members one of another. No individual can claim\nisolation and independency. Let him make the most of his\nindividuality; yet, as Aristotle said, \"Man is a political animal;\"\nhis nature apart from the nation is incomplete; sundered from that to\nwhich he belongs he seems a freak.\n\nThe nation, then, is not an artificial binding of units; it is a\nnatural relationship. The ideal nation is not entered as a result of\nreflection and choice. A man is born into the nation as into the\nfamily. To belong to the English nation when born an Englishman is not\nusually considered so \"greatly to his credit,\" except in the case of\nMr. Gilbert's naval hero. The very term \"naturalize,\" with which we\ndenote the initiation of a foreigner, is a confession that the nation\nis not a social contract but a natural relation. It is this natural\nrelation which makes the nation worth dying for; it is fatherland.\n\nStill further, the nation is an organic being. The scattered atoms of\na sand-heap are as perfect as before they were dislodged; not so an\namputated arm. When the nation is disunited, the detached segment\nbecomes a different kind of body. \"The man without a country\" begins\nto be another sort of man. The nation is not a mass of independent\nindividuals, but of related individuals, who, moreover, are so closely\nrelated that they make together an indivisible organism; this organism\ndevelops according to orderly laws; this organism has perpetuity,\nnever disjoining itself either from its past or future; and this\norganism has also self-consciousness and moral personality. This is\nthe nation in which we live, and move, and have our being.\n\nWhen we look this high conception of the nation squarely in the eye,\nmuch of the talk about governmentalism seems at once irrelevant. For\ngovernment in America must ever mean the nation directing itself. Here\nare no hereditary governing machines; no bureaucracies created by a\npower apart from the people. In Europe, government is fastened on the\npeople. But in America, if government is not of the people, by the\npeople, and for the people, it is their own fault. The worst abuses of\npower in a government actually emanating from the people, do not put\nit beyond their reach. It is still the nation governing itself. It\nwill one day become conscious of its strength, and will direct its\nefforts more wisely. But so long as it is the living, organic nation\ngoverning itself, no mere multiplication of functions, no\nstraightforward increase of powers, are a discrowning of the people.\n\nSocialists believe in the fearless extension of government because\nthey have a clear and high idea of the nation as an organic\nrelationship, apart from which the individual cannot realize himself.\nAs the nation becomes more self-conscious, it perceives more clearly\nits own responsibility for the development of each individual. The\nself-governing nation extends its governmental powers solely to give a\nbetter chance for development to the largest number of individuals.\n\"All individualism,\" says Mr. Flower, \"would be surrendered to that\nmysterious thing called government.\" But there is nothing mysterious\nin the expression the nation makes of its own will; and it is hard to\ndiscover what individualism is surrendered, except bumptiousness, when\nthe rounded development of the greatest number of individuals is the\nnation's motive for extending its governmental functions.\n\nThere is also another kind of reason for being undismayed at the\nthreat of governmentalism. Nationalism is but the very distant\nconsummation of local socialism.\n\nI suppose it is not strange that the hostile critics occupy themselves\nalmost entirely with this keystone of the arch, since that has given\nthe name to the whole tendency. They delight to picture the superb\nriot of corruption if nationalists could have their way at once. They\nwill never listen, they will never remember, while nationalists\ndeclare they would not have their way at once if they could. A\ncatastrophe by which nationalistic socialism might be precipitated\nwould be a deplorable disaster to human progress.\n\nSocialism properly begins with the municipality; or more properly\nstill, with the town-meeting. The Hon. Joseph Chamberlain is a\npractical State socialist; and he outlines in the _North American\nReview_ for May how English cities are laying the foundation of more\ngeneral socialism. The popular representative government of the\nmunicipality, he says, \"unlike the imperial legislature, is very near\nto the poor, and can deal with details, and with special conditions.\nIt is subject to the criticism and direct control both of those who\nfind the money, and of those who are chiefly interested in its\nexpenditure. In England, at any rate,\" he continues, \"it has been free\nfrom the suspicion of personal corruption, and has always been able to\nsecure the services of the ablest and most disinterested members of\nthe community.\" The practical socialism of Birmingham, and other\ncities of Great Britain, enthusiastically supported by multitudes of\ncitizens who do not call themselves socialists, is an example of the\nfirst numbers on the socialistic programme. The intellectual leaders\nof socialism are in no hurry. They have all the time there is. It may\ntake years to persuade American cities that they are business\ncorporations themselves, whose aim is the well-being of all the\nmembers. The extension of municipal control over all natural\nmonopolies may be decades off. No matter; there is no use in being\nhot-headed because hearts are hot at the miseries of the poor.\nMunicipalization ought to precede nationalization. The members of the\ncommunity must learn to trust each other before the East and the West\nwill trust one another. It must be proved in American cities, as it\nhas been already in English cities, that the extension of municipal\npowers is itself a force to drive out corruption and purify politics,\nbefore the nation as a whole will deem it safe to make great\nenlargements of the civil service.\n\nAs that day approaches, it will be found that nationalism is a much\nsimpler thing than it now seems. Nationalism does not begin in a paper\nconstitution and work downwards. During the upheavals of the French\nRevolution Abbe Sieges is always coming forward with a new\nconstitution. But in America institutions are rather an evolution. The\nlast numbers on the social programme may safely be left blank.\nNationalism is neither a city let down, of a sudden, four-square from\nheaven, nor are its working plans yet to be found in any architect's\noffice on earth. We certainly want no nationalism which is not an\norderly development. We may agree with Mr. Spencer that the course of\npolitical evolution is full of surprises. It is quite possible that\nthe nationalism which seems so full of menace as a military despotism\nmay turn out to be but a simple federation of industrial and\ncommercial interests which find they require a single head.\n\nIn other words, it seems to me, nationalism is only a prophecy. It is\ntoo distant to be certainly detailed. Present day accounts of it will\none day be, as Horace Greeley said of something else, \"mighty\ninteresting reading.\" We may be inspired by it as the end towards\nwhich present movements are tending. But each age solves its own\nproblems; and the passage into that promised land is the issue for\nanother generation. A nearer view alone can determine where the\npassage is, and whether the land is truly desirable. We may justly put\nsome faith in the common sense, as well as in the political ingenuity\nof those who come after us. If military socialism, whatever it is,\nshould ever be the issue, this American people can be trusted to vote\nagainst it if it is undesirable. Meantime, what our people must vote\nupon in the present year of grace, is whether great private\ncorporations shall control legislatures and city councils, and charge\ntheir own unquestioned prices for such public necessities of life as\nlight and transit. There is an issue between tyranny and liberty which\nis to the point. The future is in the hands of evolution.\n\nAnother opprobrious epithet is \"paternalism.\" This is the most\nfamiliar of the titles of reproach. It suggests an idea of government\nmade pestiferous by old abuse. The most atrocious despotisms both of\nking and church have planted themselves _in loco parentis_. The\nwelfare of the people has been the hoary excuse for the cruelest\noutrages of history. Mr. Flower goes a step further and avers that,\nwith the good of the people for a pretext, tyranny has always been in\nexact proportion to power and authority.\n\nWithout stopping to query as to this last rather sweeping statement,\nit will be enough to check ourselves while the editor leaps to his\ninduction; namely, that because the monarchical and ecclesiastical\ngovernments have tyrannized in proportion to their power, nothing less\nis to be expected if our Republic becomes affected with a greater\nsense of governmental responsibility for the welfare of her citizens.\nIf our nation, it is claimed, allows this specious excuse to commit it\nto the doctrine of State interference, we are drifted into the\ndespotic paternalisms of the old world.\n\nBut a paternalism must have a parent, a royal sire, or a priestly\ngrandmother. In the antique paternalisms there is invariably this\nparental personality at the top; down beneath it are the puppet\nchildren. \"My soldiers are my children,\" says Napoleon; and he orders\na charge for their benefit; an hour afterwards the dying address him\nas Sire as he walks over the field. \"The German people are my\nchildren,\" says Emperor William; and he issues the edict for the\ncompulsory life-insurance of workingmen; an undoubted blessing. Both\nare instances of paternalism; and the principle in one case is as\nobnoxious as in the other. The principle of paternalism is an\nirresponsible authority above the people, mastering the people, with\ntheir welfare as a pretext.\n\nBut this essential of paternalism must be lacking in the republic.\nWhatever powers democracy may assume, it recognizes no authority\noutside itself. Democratic government, however socialistic it may\nbecome, is nothing but democracy expressing its own will. If the\nindividual is led to surrender certain of his freedoms for the good of\nall, he surrenders to a paternalism of all the people. That were\nbetter called, once for all, a fraternalism.\n\nIt is not enough, however, to show that the title is in our case a\ngrave misnomer. The editor adduces several recent instances which he\nconsiders exhibitions of the increasing tyranny of all the people. He\nbelieves the tyranny of all the people, if they are as selfish as they\nare now, would be more hopeless than the despotism of an individual;\nfor the single tyrant is after all amenable to revolution, while the\nwhole nation as a tyrant is accountable to nothing. To his view,\nindeed, the occurrences I am about to repeat prove the new tyrant is\nalready created. They exhibit a \"tyranny which shows that persecutions\nare only limited by the power vested in the State.\"\n\nLet us examine the data for this astonishing conclusion. My limits\nwill not allow more than a bare reference to the incidents which are\nfully described in the May editorial.\n\nCase I. is the incarceration in Tennessee of a Seventh-day Adventist\nfor working on Sunday. Of this it may be remarked that had it happened\ntwo centuries ago it would have been symptomatic; to-day it is a\ncuriosity.\n\nCase II. is the arrest of a Christian Scientist in Iowa for practising\ncontrary to the rules of the State. I presume this cannot be fairly\ndisposed of by suggesting that there has been some aggravated occasion\nfor such stringency. But it is certainly true that the State has the\nright to prevent malpractice--a right none of us would wish renounced.\nAnd as soon as there are sufficient data to convince an intelligent\npublic opinion that the theory, with its perilous repudiation of all\nmedical skill, is not fatal to human life, it will receive an\nungrudged status.\n\nCase III. is the arrest of a minister, of pure life and unquestioned\nstanding, for sending obscene literature through the mail. The sole\ncharge was the publication of an earnest and chastely worded article\non marital purity; but the real cause was supposed to be his severe\ncriticism of the Society for the Prevention of Vice nearly a year\nafterward. If these facts are verifiable this is a monstrous outrage.\nBut unhappily it is not the first instance where revenge has been\ntaken on the innocent by due process of law. Without doubt the people\nought to be more aroused by it than they are. Yet such a sporadic\ninstance of miscarried justice is scarcely a reason why the State\nshould cease its efforts to check by law the present alarming increase\nof lascivious printing.\n\nCase IV. is an election bill in California which prohibits independent\nnominations except upon petition of five per cent. of the voters, and\nthus disfranchises four per cent. of the voting population. If this\nmad device proves anything, it proves that the leaders of the old\nparties are in such consternation at the uneasiness of the people that\nthey have lost their heads. It proves no more than the denial of the\nright of petition in Congress during anti-slavery days; and it proves\nas much as that attempt to ignore the voice of reform. Earthquakes are\nnot far off when such things happen.\n\nCase V. is the suit for damages which one Powell brings against\nPennsylvania. Under a statute authorizing the manufacture of\noleomargarine, he had undertaken the business, to find himself ruined\nby a later legislature making its manufacture a misdemeanor. This is\nvery noteworthy, for it proves too much. It shows a vested money\ninterest controlling legislature and voting a rival business into\noutlawry. This is a kind of instance socialists like to get hold of.\n\nYet these instances are used to illustrate \"a growing spirit of\nintolerance\" in our country; they are said to exhibit a State tyranny\nwhich is already blossoming under paternalistic legislation; they\nemphasize, it is claimed, the fact,--\"That all the majority wishes is\nthe sanction of law to make its crimes against the minority assume a\nshow of respectability. All that retards persecution is the limit of\nthe sanction of law; and I submit that, in the light of history, and\nin the face of the wrongs of the present, all increase in governmental\npower menaces the liberty, the happiness, and the growth of the\nindividual.\"\n\nThis is a pretty large indictment to hang on such debatable evidence.\nIts audaciousness fairly takes one's breath away. Our heaviest battery\nis turned against ourselves. Every cherished dream of the good time\ncoming goes up at a blast. Instead of freedom at last to do that for\nwhich we are made, and to fit into the niche where we belong, we are\nshown a State's-prison. Instead of an age of joy and of elastic step,\nwe are pointed to an iron rule of repression and cheerlessness.\nInstead of leisure to ripen, of a full summing of our powers, of the\nexhilaration of new truth, we have disclosed to us a stunted\nindividuality treading a dull and monotonous round of existence. And\nall this, because if the people are trusted with more power they will\ntyrannize life down to this paralyzing reaction.\n\nThe logic of this bold pessimism is:--Human nature is tyrannical; the\nmajority have always tyrannized in proportion to their power; increase\ntheir power and they will increase their tyranny. This is the\nsyllogism which has dignified the foregoing collection of occurrences\ninto grave symptoms of an increase of popular despotism.\n\nIt might be fair to meet dogmatic pessimism with dogmatic optimism.\nOr, it would be legitimate to follow the logic to its end in a general\nabandoning of all the powers of government which, it seems, has only\nhurt when it tried to help humanity; to go back honestly to Jefferson,\nand beyond him, to\n\n    The very best government of all,\n    That which governs not at all.\n\nThis is the pandemonium of anarchy. Mr. Flower believes that there is\nnot enough of the golden rule in society to-day to make socialism\ntolerable. But we have only to imagine our present society, with its\ncurrent quantity of golden rule, thrown into the chaos where\ngovernment has ceased to govern, where the political majority has lost\nall its power, but where the majority of brute strength awakes to find\nitself with no laws to molest or make it afraid.\n\nBut this doctrine of the inevitable despotism of the political\nmajority lies so at the bottom of the whole impeachment, that it ought\nto be carefully examined in itself.\n\nIn the first place, both premises are without support. Human nature,\neven in irresponsible multitudes, is not essentially tyrannical. Let\nus admit frankly all the degraded sweeps of intolerance in the past;\nyet has not human nature during recent generations been growing in the\ntolerant spirit? Look straight at the intelligent society around us;\nlook within ourselves most of all, and let us ask if we see any such\nintolerance of spirit as would bloom into tyranny if we only had the\nchance. A man may prove to me by inductive data, reaching\nuninterruptedly over ten thousand years, that my own nature is\nintolerant; he may even corroborate his proof by pointing to my\noccasional acts of thoughtless disregard for another's opinion, yet\nall this array does not overwhelm me, for I know I am not intolerant.\nOur society to-day, as a whole, knows it is not intolerant;--even\nthough it be proved as conclusively as ever Puritan divine proved\nGod's hatred for man, and man's incapacity for a single good act. The\nlogic works well; only there are some omitted factors. Human nature\nhas made some progress. Hospitality to new ideas, and patience with\ndivergent ones, are two of the surest fruits of later civilization.\n\nAgain, the majority have not always tyrannized in proportion to their\npower. They did not, in the Dutch Republic, when William of Orange\nfollowed the hideous persecutions of Phillip II. with the\nestablishment of religious liberty. The Church of England was in the\nmajority when it abandoned its acts of tyranny. Congregationalism was\nstill in the ascendancy when it ceased to banish Baptists and to whip\nQuakers. The Rhode Island Baptists had plenty of majority when they\npioneered the empire of religious freedom in America. And the Maryland\nRoman Catholics had things their own way, when in an age of\npersecution they resolved to be hospitable to other beliefs. Indeed,\nin our American life especially, the generosity and long-suffering of\nmajorities are among the most notable features. On the other hand it\nmay with truth be said that the worst tyrannies have been on the part\nof minorities. In the old world the oppressive minorities have usually\nbeen hereditary or ecclesiastical interests. In our country the ruling\nminorities have been determined, and self-assertive classes who would\nnot brook the wisdom or the sense of justice of the majority. It was\nthe regnant minority which rushed the South into secession. It was\nthat same minority which had for half a century before over-ridden the\nwhole nation. It was the Tammany minority which ruled the Democracy.\nIt is the minority of syndicates, corporations, and vested interests\nwhich crowned itself in our Billion Congress, and is spreading itself\nin our legislatures. Are the very occurrences, of which so much has\nbeen made exhibitions, of the tyranny of all the people; or, are they\nnot rather, with one exception, instances where a graceless minority\nhas resolved either slyly or boldly to ignore the people? In short,\nthe charge in the phrase \"tyranny of the majority\" has but the least\njustification in the course of government. There has been in history\nno power which has tyrannized less than the political majority. In\nmodern times, at least, the most violent acts of despotic outrage have\nbeen the attempts to ride down the will of the political majority. \"In\nthe light of history, and in the face of the wrongs of the present,\"\nto use the editor's words, it might be well to consider some means for\nthe protection of majorities.\n\nFor after all, in spite of the English sneers at government by count\nof noses, from Carlyle and Sir Henry Maine to the latest utterances,\nthere is nothing so safe for humanity's interests as the political\nmajority. It is perfectly true that \"the vanguard of human progress\nmust ever be in the minority.\" But the hope of this minority lies in\none day becoming the majority. As Disraeli said, that is the\nminority's business. The minorities of hereditary privilege, of\npriesthood, of monied classes, can perpetuate themselves and their\npower. But the majority of voters is always changing and always losing\nits power. The minority of radicals is always becoming the majority of\nconservatives,--the steadfast power to which progress has tied itself.\n\nIs socialism necessary to the progress of the race? Will not a\nperfected fraternalism make the strong hand of socialism needless?\nBoth questions are to be answered, yes. The perfect state is\nundoubtedly pictured in Rousseau's ideal, where every man remains\nperfectly free, so that when he obeys the State he obeys only himself.\nThis is the deep and eternal truth of the law of brotherhood, which is\nalso the law of liberty. Love is the fulfilling of all law; no laws\nwill be needed when love is the protection of the weak. Belief in that\ncoming government of Love is the real religion.\n\nBut the practical politics of the present deal with a society where a\nstrong arm is needed to protect the weak from the tyranny of the\ngiants. To talk about the principles of brotherhood fully prevailing\nin our present conditions, is to treat the laws of Christ with\nflippancy. Nine-tenths of the maxims of our modern business system\ncontradict the law of love. In our present environment it is\nimpossible for business people or working people to obey the Sermon on\nthe Mount and not starve. Perhaps a few sacrifices of this kind are\nneeded to teach us how abhorrent the present selfish system is to the\nChristianity of Christ. \"I suppose I ought to be thankful to get the\nwork at all, for they told other women they had no work left for\nthem,\" said a woman to me who was making men's pantaloons for two\ndollars a dozen. She was part of the system; she was competing with\nother less fortunate women as truly as her employer with other firms;\nshe drank her tea at the expense of her less lucky sister, who had no\nwork and no tea. What chance does this system afford for perfect\nfraternalism, or even for decent fraternalism, among those who have to\ncompete?\n\nSocialism aims to produce an environment where not only the Golden\nRule but the Law of Love will have a living chance. As such an agent\nit has its proper political place in the development of mankind.\n\n\n\n\nREVOLUTIONARY MEASURES AND NEGLECTED CRIMES.\n\nPART II.\n\nBY PROF. JOSEPH RODES BUCHANAN.\n\n\nIf we agree that all men are born free and equal, with certain\ninalienable rights,--life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness,--let\nus legislate to enforce our belief. All men are _not_ born equal, if\none is born with power to live without toil; power to control the\nmovements of a hundred thousand of his _unequal_ fellow-citizens;\npower to bribe legislatures; power to hire a pretorian guard of\nlaborers, writers, editors, clergymen, and even soldiers or police to\ndo his bidding and to sing his praise, and to threaten those who wish\nto establish a real republic. It was thought we had abolished\nhereditary inequality; but in a land where our democratic lords can\neach hire fifty thousand men and equip an army if need be,--where a\ndemocratic American lord can buy a dozen of the puny lords of\nEurope,--the social equality dreamed of in '76 does not exist. We have\nabolished the useless title but not the lord.\n\nWe should not object to that inequality which is natural--to the\nsuperior ability and superior virtue which place one man far above his\nfellows; but we should object to an immense inequality, _which is not\nnatural_, and which sometimes places the superior man at the mercy and\nin the service of one who has no ability whatever,--who is simply born\nto rule by means of _hereditary wealth_. This is just as great a\nsocial inequality as that which Jefferson saw in Europe, and which he\nthought was to be excluded from America.\n\nIt is a condition that is demoralizing in a hundred ways, and is\nfraught with peril to the republic, peril to society, and peril to all\nthe interests of humanity; and therefore as I would assert,--and _who\nwould deny_ the supreme right and power of the people to protect the\nrepublic from any impending calamity by any just means, _but not by\nany unjust means_--I would claim that it is our right and duty to say\nthat this grand hereditary inequality shall not be perpetual, and that\n_the past shall not rule the present--the graveyard shall not contain\nour legislature_,--but that each generation shall be a law unto\nitself, and shall establish the conditions of justice and safety\nwithout regard to the follies of the dead and the ancient laws of\ninheritance when they conflict with justice.\n\nJustice and safety to the republic demand that men shall _not be born\nas rulers, nor born as serfs_. The serf is the person who is born in\npoverty, with no right to a standing place, and whom society has left\nto the education of the street or of the coal mine, growing up without\nknowledge, without industrial skill--knowing nothing but to sell\nunskilled labor in a market crowded by a million others like himself\nor herself, and thus forced into that wretched life seen in all the\ngreat cities of America and Europe, the description of which is enough\nto make us cry out in despair, How long, O Lord, how long? Wherein\ndoes this white slavery differ from African slavery, except that the\nmaster cares nothing for the slave, is not bound by self-interest to\ntake care of him, and cannot flog him though he can punish him in\nother ways, and on shipboard he can flog him also, and the horrors of\nnautical brutality have not even produced a society for its abolition?\n\nSuch is the serf, which our democracy allows its citizens to\nbecome,--men to whom the right of suffrage sometimes seems a worthless\nrag which they would gladly sell,--men on whose weak shoulders the\nrepublic cannot stand.\n\nTo abolish that class, every boy and girl should be guaranteed a solid\nintellectual and industrial education, making a permanent guarantee\nagainst pauperism and serfdom, a permanent guarantee that women shall\nnot be enslaved by lust, but shall be enabled to rear an offspring of\nmanly citizens. These are the most important things that a true\nnationalism should accomplish at present, and mainly by the gospel of\nindustrial education, which the writer has long been urging with all\nhis power.\n\nPublic sentiment has advanced so far on this question, that there will\nbe very little opposition to abolishing the serf by industrial\neducation; out with all our industrial education, our disorganized\ncompetition makes employment terribly uncertain, and impoverishes the\nindustrious by enforced idleness, because there is no science, no\nsocial system to regulate the demand and supply of labor in different\npursuits.\n\nHence, until we can do better, there must be at all times a vast\nnumber of idle men walking about in search of work, losing all their\nsavings in times of enforced idleness, their days of gloom and\ndespair.\n\nThey are our brothers, and we cannot say with Cain, \"Am I my brother's\nkeeper?\" _We are_ our brothers' keepers, for they are partners in this\nrepublic, and brothers in the family of God, and they help to make the\nsocial atmosphere in which we live, and they help the republic to sink\nor swim. We simply cannot afford to deny our brotherhood, and if we do\nwe are the devil's own fools.\n\nAction on this matter is demanded now as it never was before, for we\nare advancing blindly to a crisis which our political economists and\nstatesmen have not foreseen, and do not yet recognize. The genius that\nincreases by invention the productive power of labor ought to increase\nthe rewards of labor, but it does not. Labor is demanded only to\nsupply what is consumed; and if at present a million laborers are\nemployed to produce the food, clothing, fuel, furniture, and houses\nrequired, but in a few years invention enables half a million to\nproduce the same, what is to become of the half million no longer\nneeded? Will wages advance so that the million may still be employed,\nworking for half a day instead of a day. That would be just, but\ninstead, it produces a glut in the labor market, which by competition\nputs down wages, and starts a fierce contest between laborers and\nemployers, and among laborers themselves. The fall in prices produced\nby competition in a crowded market makes the employer unwilling to\nadvance wages, and an angry contest is inevitable. The multitude\ndislodged by invention is increased by the inevitable multitude\narising from irregular demand and supply in fluctuating markets, and\nthus families by the hundred thousand are driven to the verge of\nimmediate starvation, and this becomes our chronic condition, which\nmust be rectified,--a chronic condition which bears most heavily on\nwoman, and through her debases future generations.\n\nWe are bound to see that every honest citizen, male or female, has a\nfair chance in the battle of life, has a fair preparation at the\nstart, and a fair field. To insure this,--to insure that the\nproductive power of the nation is not wasted,--is a larger question\nthan our statesmen have ever yet considered. It requires that the\ngovernment shall have a DEPARTMENT OF PRODUCTIVE LABOR, in which\nhonest men and women, when jostled out of their industrial positions,\nmay enlist.[2] This department should be managed by the ablest and\nmost benevolent business men of the Peter Cooper class, who understand\nall productive industries, and who, seeing what is permanently and\nlargely needed for human consumption and not abundantly supplied, or\nwhat new industries can be started which will benefit the nation, what\nnew productions can be acclimatized, shall take charge of all the\nlaborers who wish to enlist in governmental employ for eight hours a\nday, with such pay and rations as will be satisfactory and fair; and\nif rightly managed, not only will their labor pay all costs of the\ndepartment, but it may be made to teach the country great industrial\nlessons in agriculture and manufactures, by improvements which\nscientific combined labor on a large scale may introduce; and if we\nare anxious to make our country independent in all things, and\nsuperior in manufactures, this is the very method in which it can be\ndone, by the instruction in the national establishments, which may be\nthe means of starting all manufactures that we need, far better than\nthe protective tariff which forces an unnatural growth _at an enormous\ncost to the people_.\n\n      [2] Thousands of the women toiling in the cities on\n          starving wages, might be given in the Southern States\n          pleasant employment in fruit culture, and other light\n          agricultural labors.\n\nThere will then be no tramps, no paupers, no women compelled to sell\ntheir persons; and as poverty, gloom, and hardship are the chief\nsources of intemperance, we may anticipate, as another consequence, an\nimmense diminution of the liquor traffic, when the Department of\nProductive Labor shall have gotten into full operation. Moral gloom\nand the bad passions impel men to intemperance, and when they acquire\nthe happy and gentle temperament of woman they will also acquire her\ntemperance.\n\nMr. Bellamy's idea of the nation as the employer may not be\npracticable, but the Department of Productive Labor is an obvious\nmethod of initiating the principle of national co-operation, which an\nurgent necessity has compelled the British government to initiate in\nIreland. But we cannot safely wait, like England, until famine is\nthreatening.\n\nThe pauperization of labor depends on the monopoly of land combined\nwith the monopoly of machinery. It cannot occur in a new country, but\nmust develop when all the land is monopolized and worth a hundred\ndollars an acre. The independence of the laborer owing to cheap vacant\nland is more than restored by a Department of Productive Labor which\nestablishes a minimum of wages below which they cannot be forced, and\ngives a standing ground on which exaction can be resisted permanently\nby the laborer.\n\nThe Department of Productive Labor may be made a charming feature of\nthe government, on which philanthropists may expend their skill; and\nits beautiful plantations, especially in the highlands of the\nCarolinas and Georgia, and in California, may be looked to as a haven\nof repose by all who are disappointed in life, who may find in these\nrural homes something more attractive than the co-operative societies\nto which some are rushing now. The voice of the red flag anarchist\nwill be quieted, and the agitators who endeavor to stir up dissension\nwill find most of their grievances redressed when the laborer has an\nassured home.\n\nThere is no obstructive limit to the achievements of the army of\nlabor. Aside from agriculture and manufactures, there are roads to be\nbuilt, buildings to be erected, improvements of many kinds, and there\nare about a thousand million acres of arid land, needing irrigation,\nthe necessary works for which could employ more than would probably\napply, for the wages should not be such as to attract men from\nprofitable employments. The army of labor may not at first be wisely\nmanaged, but anything is better than the vast national losses by\n_enforced idleness_. It is not extravagant to anticipate an _ultimate_\ngovernmental administration of railroads, mines, manufactures, and\ngovernment farms that may employ many hundred thousands. There is no\napparent hindrance to the extension of the Department of Productive\nLabor until it shall embrace all who desire the comfort and security\nit gives, while those who prefer the strife of competition can remain\noutside of the experiment, and thus the governmental and the\nindividual systems be fairly tried in competition with each other.\nThus far no formidable difficulty appears in abolishing pauperism, but\nwe find a more difficult task when we propose the abolition of\nPlutocracy, by what may be called a REVOLUTIONARY MEASURE.\n\nHaving thus gotten rid of the increasing army of paupers and tramps,\nproviding, as it seems, a sound basis for a republic, we have the\nother problem of getting rid of the growing aristocracy--the\nplutocratic princes, the syndicates and trusts, who constitute the\nother great danger,--of whom we may say we must either master them or\nthey will master us by managing our senators, governors, and\npresidents. They have already swallowed some such legislatures as we\nhave been able to elect, with such facility as to show that it will\nnot be long before they can swallow the entire government, and when it\nhas been swallowed it may not be as fortunate as Jonah in getting out\nagain, for there is some very important legislation necessary to this\nrepublic which the plutocracy may be expected to resist with all its\npower, and when the conflict comes it will be a grand one.\n\nThey will probably combat with all their might the doctrine which must\nsometime be presented, that the nation must rule itself on democratic\nprinciples, and that the dead shall not rule the living by entail,\nmortmain, or will. When a child is born it must become a member of the\nrepublic on conditions compatible with the safety of that republic. It\ncannot be allowed to come in as the born master of a hundred thousand\nfellow-citizens equally competent to serve the republic. Our young\ncitizens approach us from a generation that has passed away.\n\nIt sleeps in the graveyard, or it leads a better life in the better\nworld. It has left vast masses of wealth, surrounded by wretched areas\nof desolate poverty. Was it wise or just to do so,--to ignore\nbrotherhood of man, and to perpetuate all possible inequality? No, a\nthousand times no. There is not one, perhaps, of the millionnaire\ndwellers in the better world who does not regret and mourn his earthly\nselfishness, and who would not order a more just and generous\ndistribution of his estate if his voice could be heard.\n\nBut we need not ask them. _We know what is just_ and we will correct\nthe mistakes of the departed. We know that this hoarding in families\nis unjust to the republic and unjust to the Brotherhood of\nHumanity,--an injury to all, a benefit to none. Therefore it must not\nbe permitted.\n\nAlready the law is beginning to recognize this principle, which is\ndestined to revolutionize all the world; but we are not the leaders in\nthis democracy, because our plutocracy is too strong. Switzerland in\nits mountain homes carries the banner of democracy, and has gone\nfarther than any other country in asserting the rights of the\ncommonwealth over inherited wealth. New York has ordained a little\ninfinitesimal inheritance tax which, according to the _Herald_, in\n1886 produced $60,000, in 1887 $500,000, in 1888 over a million. That\nwill be enough to build schoolhouses for the 20,000 children kept out\nof school in the city of New York for want of room. The proposition is\nunder discussion in Massachusetts, and if we do our duty Massachusetts\nmay set the example of the greatest social revolution ever\naccomplished by law. If Boston received the benefit of such a tax on\nits own population, it might be adjusted to raise from one million to\nmore than ten millions a year; at any rate a succession tax might\nproduce more than all other taxes produce at present, and it would\nbring about such radical changes that it would be expedient to make\nthe change gradual, and gradual it must be, for it will meet\ndetermined opposition, and we must enforce our principle by every\nargument of justice and expediency, for it is both just and expedient.\n_What right have the millionnaires to say how the world shall be\nmanaged after they have left it?_ What right to say that when they\nhave established a dangerous inequality, posterity shall be compelled\nto make it perpetual. The robber barons established inequality by the\nsword, and by the same power made it perpetual. The posterity of kings\nand barons, however worthless, corrupt, criminal, or imbecile,\ncontinue to occupy the saddle upon the public donkey. But inherited\nroyalty is going, and inherited aristocracy must also go. We who\nsurvive are the responsible parties, and (as the Romans charged their\nrulers in times of danger) we must see that the republic does not\nsuffer, and that aristocracy shall not be its permanent master.\n\nWhat right has the millionnaire to direct from the grave, that the\nwealth which he has left shall be used in the manner most dangerous\nand most injurious to society. He has no such right. He has no right\nin the matter, but what we in our justice or in our good-nature may\ngive him. If these views are just, they must in time rule the world,\nbut they are not yet asserted by those to whom the world looks for\ncounsel.[3]\n\n      [3] A year after this was written, the following\n          advanced sentiment was uttered by Rabbi Schindler:\n          \"Have the dead the right of imposing laws upon the\n          living, of making contracts of which future generations\n          ought to bear the burden?\"\n\nThe sacred right of the living citizen in that which his industry has\ncreated, has no application here. It is a totally different case. It\nis the question what right has he to rule the world after he has\nenjoyed his full share and more, and gone away. We do not ask whether\nhe got his wealth by fraud, or robbery, or industry. _He has left it;\nhe is done with it; he is dead in fact and ought to be dead in law!_\nThe law has no jurisdiction over him now, and he has no possible\ninterest in what is done, nor any power to rectify his mistakes. To\nperpetuate his fictitious personality, and make the opinions which he\nhas left in writing an authority like the acts of a living man, is a\ntremendous stretch of the imagination, much like the old superstitions\nwhich made a law by the preface \"thus saith the Lord.\"\n\nI know the claim will be made that the wealth which the millionnaires\ncould not carry away was truly theirs, and therefore that while they\nlived they had a right to dispose of it. But I deny it. In the highest\nsense of justice, _it was not theirs_, and even if it was, it was\njustly forfeited by their treason to humanity; for I hold that neither\ngenius nor the business capacity that produces wealth ever releases a\nman from his obligations to society. In time of war to defend the city\nor State, we take every man's property, so far as needed, and require\nhim, in addition, to offer his life in battle to protect the\ncommunity; and surely in the grand battle which every republic has to\nmeet against its foes,--on the one hand oligarchy and despotism, and\non the other social disorder and convulsions between capital and\nimpoverished labor,--in this battle, I say, every man may be required\nto defend the republic with his money, his honor, and his life, if\nneed be, and he should think himself very lightly released if society\ndemands only to become his legatee, after he has provided for his\nfamily. He thus relinquishes what is nothing to him but everything to\nsociety.\n\nWealth is the product of the nation--of all its work of brain and\nmuscle. No one man by himself ever accumulated wealth. But in the\nentangled social co-operation, struggle, and battle, wealth is\nscattered strangely and gathered in heaps like the money at a gaming\ntable. One man seizes a gold mine, another seizes for a trifle a piece\nof parchment giving the title to land where a million are going to\nsettle, and both become millionnaire princes at the expense of the\ncommonwealth. There would be very few rich men if the real production\nof each was all that he could hold. To seize by a legal fiction a mine\nthat yields a million annually is simply a robbery of the\ncommonwealth. The robbery of the commonwealth and the toiler is our\nchronic condition. The urban population, strong in capital and skilful\nin combination and chicanery, has drained the agricultural regions,\nuntil agriculture,[4] toil, and poverty, are closely associated,\nwhile urban wealth displays its ostentatious ease, and farmers are\ndriven by the million into a desperate political struggle for\nself-protection.\n\n      [4] It is necessary to illustrate this by a few decisive\n          facts which have not been made familiar to the\n          majority of readers, as farmers' interests have\n          received very little consideration in the East. The\n          financial policy of the general government ever\n          controlled by capital against labor, has been the most\n          gigantic imposition by financial jugglery that history\n          has recorded, and has been effected chiefly by\n          manipulation and contraction of the currency to make\n          debts more oppressive, and during the war by\n          depreciating the people's money. After the war when\n          $500,000,000 were needed to compensate the destruction\n          of confederate money, a criminal contraction of\n          $500,000,000 dealt a crushing blow to the South, and to\n          the whole country. Let us look at it from the\n          standpoint of the largest body of laborers, the\n          farmers. A very intelligent Illinois farmer, Bert\n          Stewart, presents the case as follows, and if his data\n          are all correct, he has demonstrated a wholesale\n          robbery: The national debt at the end of the war was\n          about $2,800,000,000. What would it then have cost the\n          farmers to pay this debt? He estimates that it could\n          have been paid by 996,000,000 bushels of wheat; or\n          1,380,000,000 bushels of corn; or 10,000,000 bales of\n          cotton. But financial legislation has increased the\n          value of money (magnifying the debt), and decreased the\n          value of the products of labor, so that practically,\n          the debt has been increasing faster than it has been\n          paid; and, after paying nearly $2,000,000,000 of the\n          principal, and over $2,000,000,000 of interest, it will\n          cost more to pay the remaining third of the debt than\n          to have paid the whole at first. It would require\n          to-day, instead of 1,380,000,000, over 4,000,000,000\n          bushels of corn to pay the remaining third. This being\n          the case, it would seem that the payment of about four\n          thousand millions during the last twenty-six years,\n          leaving the debt substantially unpaid, was virtually a\n          _robbery of the commonwealth_ by corrupt or ignorant\n          legislation. Mr. Stewart mentions also, that in one\n          year the binding twine trust, by raising prices, drew\n          $21,000,000 \"from the farmers of the West to the\n          sharpers of the East.\" The reports of the State Board\n          of Agriculture of Illinois show (what is a fair\n          statement for the whole country) that during the last\n          thirty years the corn crops of Illinois have for more\n          than half the time brought less than the cost of their\n          production; and taking the entire thirty years\n          together, the losses so nearly balanced the profits\n          that the average net profit of the thirty years has not\n          exceeded seventeen cents an acre for each year, in the\n          cultivation of over six millions of acres of corn. In\n          the official report of Iowa also, it is stated \"the\n          general range of farm products have sold below cost of\n          production, since 1885.\" The official \"Farm Statistics\n          of Michigan,\" just issued, tell the same sad story. It\n          shows that the wheat crop of 1889 cost more than it\n          sold for, the loss being $1,471,515. The entire loss on\n          wheat, corn, and oats amounted to $9,226,510. Thus is\n          agricultural labor crushed that millionnaires may grow.\n          Hence it is that farmers are sinking under their\n          burdens of mortgage indebtedness, paying seven per\n          cent. or more, losing their farms, and often compelled\n          to mortgage crops, tools, and stock. In the single\n          year, 1887, 35,334 farm mortgages were recorded in\n          Illinois, amounting to $37,040,770, and \"nine million\n          mortgaged homes\" is the war-cry of the Farmers'\n          Alliance.\n\n          Thus the independent farmer is disappearing, and\n          although there was scarcely a tenant farmer in Illinois\n          in 1840, there are more than 110,000 tenant farmers\n          now; and we have a vast increase of large farms. But\n          while the farmer sinks into poverty, those who handle\n          his products grow rich. The Chicago Stock Yard that was\n          started with a million of capital has grown so\n          prosperously that its stock now amounts to $23,000,000.\n          The monetary interests control all things, and Mr.\n          Stewart forcibly says: \"The time has come, gentlemen,\n          when the government must run the railroads, or the\n          railroads will run the government. In Pennsylvania\n          to-day two roads own the State, its legislature, its\n          governor, its courts, its people, own them body and\n          soul, and stole the money from the people to buy them\n          with. You elect men to positions and pay them salaries,\n          and then the railroads buy them and make you pay for\n          bribing your own officers, in the freight rates they\n          charge you. The net income of the railroads of the\n          United States is three times that of the entire revenue\n          of the government.\"\n\nThe great mass of accumulated wealth was all unearned. It was the\ndonation of absurd law to monopolists,--to men who procured the titles\nto lands. Their value came from the entire community, created by the\npeople, and when that amount is rescued from landlordism, the millions\nvanish and society reclaims its own. Thus do I assert the ownership of\nthe community in millionnaire hoards. And when the tenant for life has\ngone, to whom the law has been by far too generous, and left his\nhoards, out of which he has already squandered more than he was\nentitled to--the commonwealth from which this wealth was gathered may\nrightly step in and reclaim it.\n\nIt is but a waif on the ocean of commerce--the jetsam and flotsam, of\nwhich the law must direct the disposal. The heirs, as they have been\ncalled, may come in to the wreck that lies on the shores of time,\nafter the soul has gone to eternity--but law must decide whether these\nwreckers are entitled to the cargo,--to goods which they did not\nproduce, and whether it is safe and patriotic to allow them to carry\noff what is substantially in the majority of cases morally and justly\nthe property of the commonwealth. There may be some exceptions to\nthese general statements as to property, but when we recollect how\nland monopoly and other monopolies have robbed the commonwealth, I\nhold that the commonwealth is bound to reclaim the stolen wealth\nwherever it can find it, and certainly wherever the commonwealth can\nfind it abandoned by the claimant, the action of trover should come in\nwhen the tenant for life has ceased to exist.\n\nPerhaps the devotees of precedent may be bold enough to call this\nrobbery, but it is simply reclamation of that which has too long been\nlost or stolen. For the chief foundations of large fortunes, the chief\nsource of the great flood of accumulated wealth, has been the taxation\nof the people by the monopoly of land and monopoly of mines--the\nmonopoly by private individuals of what justly belonged to the\ncommonwealth, but was captured by the sword or by law--aided by\ncunning financial operations which stand on no higher plane than\ngambling or fraud.\n\nThe British peerage draw an annual rental from their lands of\n$66,000,000, and the American princes draw far more, but I have not\nhad time to find the statistics.[5] It will not be long before foreign\nlandlords shall draw $50,000,000 annually from the United States, if\nthey do not already, for they hold more than 20,000,000 acres, and on\nthese they may practise the eviction of tenants in the Irish fashion.\nThe wrongs of Irish tenants elicit universal sympathy, but they are\nfar surpassed now in America without outcry or comment. About\ntwenty-four thousand evictions occurred last year in the city of New\nYork, and this indicated more than a hundred thousand human beings\nturned homeless into the streets, generally in a penniless condition!\nThe distressing evictions of the great cities, and the selling out of\nthousands of western farmers under foreclosing mortgages, are\npreparing a terrible mass of discontented population to whom a social\nconvulsion would not be alarming. Those who live under the pressure of\na terrible social system will not be sorry if it is overthrown by\nviolence.\n\n      [5] Parker Pillsbury mentions a Governor of Maine, who\n          owns in Maine, Michigan, Wisconsin, Minnesota, Dakota,\n          and Canada, 691,000 acres.\n\nA large portion of the city of New York is held at values ($50 a foot)\nwhich would make its annual ground rental over $100,000 a year for a\nsingle acre. When we think of the vast sums which have been\naccumulating for centuries in the form of rent--say, for example, the\nland rents of England, which, outside of mines, amount to $330,000,000\na year,--it will be apparent that the grand flood-tide of wealth,\nwhich has passed into the possession of private individuals who have\nbeen fortunate enough to acquire land titles long ago, and their\nsuccessors, exceeds by more than a hundred times all the wealth that\nhas not been squandered and remains in sight to-day.\n\nBut it is gone--squandered--and we never can reclaim it; and there is\nanother mountain mass of wealth not quite expended yet, which came\nfrom corrupt financial monopoly, which has sometimes generated\nfinancial lords more rapidly than land monopoly. Upon questions of\nfinance and political economy, our people have been as blind as they\nhave upon the land question, and our entire financial legislation has\nbeen but a trap to catch the commonwealth and rob it, and the\ncommonwealth has been caught, and robbed of far more than two thousand\nmillions.[6]\n\n      [6] As a single specimen of this, I would mention that\n          those eminent politicians, John C. New, and Wm. H.\n          English, of Indiana, under the laws engineered by\n          cunning and accepted by ignorance, invested $200,000 in\n          a national bank scheme when greenbacks had been knocked\n          down to forty cents, and in thirteen years from 1864 to\n          1877 they made a clear profit of $2,133,000--more than\n          ten for one of their investment. But this is very\n          moderate in comparison with land speculation. The\n          Elyton Land Company at Birmingham, Alabama, with a cash\n          capital of $100,000, has declared in five years, ending\n          in 1888, dividends amounting to $5,570,000, and is\n          believed to own property still that will amount to\n          $5,000,000, a return of more than a hundred dollars for\n          every one invested--a clear profit absorbed of over ten\n          millions--_the gift of law to monopoly_. Will this ever\n          return to the commonwealth? The robbery of the\n          commonwealth goes on in every direction. Shall we\n          continue the present system under which, while the\n          nation is losing its inheritance daily, one man in\n          Chicago tied up the wheat crop of the United States,\n          and one man also tied up or cornered pork, and both\n          levied millions on the people?\n\nThe follies and crimes of the past cannot be readjusted--but its\nlegacy of robbery to the present must submit to the arbitration of\njustice, and the demands of philanthropy. The millions exacted from\nthe tenants of England and Ireland by the descendants of the robber\nbarons and brigand soldiers, who took the soil by the sword, still cry\naloud for justice.\n\nIf we grant that an individual may by his own exertions justly acquire\na hundred thousand dollars, which is an ample competence, and that as\nan encouragement and reward for his industry, society may justly allow\nhim to dispose of it by will, which I think is a liberal concession, I\nsee no sufficient reason for extending his authority beyond that\namount. All above that amount, I hold, should belong to the\ncommonwealth in justice, for two reasons--first, because it was taken\nfrom the commonwealth, and second, because the commonwealth suffers\nfrom two dangerous classes, which ought not to exist,[7]--the tramps\nbecoming demoralized and desperate, and the idlers, becoming\ndemoralized and worthless, who think themselves a privileged class,\nborn with a right to live in everlasting idleness upon the toil of\nthose who are not thus well born. This division into the aristocracy,\nthe proletariat, and the middle class struggling to become the\naristocracy, does not make a republic. It is an ancient falsehood and\ninjustice established by absurd laws of inheritance (as absurd as the\nHindoo castes), which have cursed the world, and will continue to\ncurse it until America shall establish democratic justice. Yet as\nexperience shows that men's opinions in all things are swayed by their\ninterests, there must be but few of the patrician class who can\nperceive these truths, and we must rely for their appreciation upon\nthe vast majority who are not born to wealth.\n\n      [7] To save the nation _we must reform_ and stop the\n          production of 60,000 boy tramps and the half million of\n          paupers and criminals which our horrible system has\n          produced, which at the present rate of increase will,\n          in fifty years, be a million and a quarter, and in a\n          hundred years will probably exceed FOUR MILLIONS. I see\n          no measures but those I propose that will save us from\n          this terrible condition. They will not be adopted in\n          time to prevent civil war, but they must be adopted\n          afterwards.\n\nWhat policy the commonwealth may observe,--whether it shall allow the\nmillionnaire to dispose of ten, twenty, or fifty per cent. as an\nencouragement and reward for his accumulations,--is a debatable\nquestion. To give him post-mortem control of fifty per cent. would be,\nit seems to me, an act of prodigal generosity to millionnaire heirs.\nThat a dead man of a hundred millions should be allowed to keep fifty\nmillions hoarded in private possession appears to me an extravagant\nclaim, for even ten per cent. of that amount would be enough to spoil\nhis children and unfit them for good citizenship. I believe it would\nbe better for society if all inheritance of wealth were forbidden, and\nevery boy and girl required to begin life with a few hundred dollars,\nand gain the position they deserved by their own abilities alone.\n\nThis reclamation of millionnaire estates by the commonwealth would not\nbe so necessary but for the fact that the world has been ruled by\nfalse principles, and in all past ages millionnaires have, with few\nexceptions, regarded their vast possessions as something on which the\npublic had no claim in justice, as being the true sources of\nwealth--something on which the brotherhood of humanity had no\nclaim--something which was not a sacred trust for the benefit of\nmankind--something which they should clutch with an iron grasp, as\nlong as possible, to keep it intact and unbroken, and still speaking\nfrom the grave, hold it protected from all the claims of humanity, to\nmagnify their own names in their descendants, and keep their offspring\nthe lords dominant of society,--thus making it really a curse instead\nof a blessing; and as neither the moralists nor the clergy have ever\ntaught them anything else, such is still their tendency, with a few\nsuch exceptions as Peter Cooper and George Peabody. But when society\nsubstitutes rational ethics and simple justice for old traditions and\ndebasing customs, the destruction of wealth will be _recognized as a\ncrime_, no matter how it was obtained; and such profligates as the\nPrince of Wales, who spends half a million yearly, and then calls upon\nhis avaricious mother for one or two millions to silence the clamor of\ncreditors whom he has defrauded, will be no longer feasted, admired,\nand imitated, for justice will be embodied in law and the race of\nprofligates will have been exterminated.\n\nIf any owner of these hoards, when he is compelled to give them up,\npolitely throws out five per cent. or even two per cent. for something\nthat he considers worthy, it is received with great laudation as\nsomething not to have been expected. A Cleveland millionnaire was\nlauded for a petty donation, less than he had expended on his old\nwife's laces. As philanthropists millionnaires are generally great\nfailures. They did not study the public welfare through life, and they\ndo not know how to promote it; their benefactions generally go to\ninstitutions that perpetuate the old order of mediaeval conservatism,\nand delay the progress of humanity. They are incompetent as trustees.\nOne man with the wealth of an Astor or a Rockefeller, and the\noverflowing love guided by the wisdom of intuition (so conspicuous in\nJesus that men have worshipped him as a God, and elevated their own\nnatures by the worship), could accomplish more than all that American\nwealth has ever done upon this continent.\n\nTherefore by that right of eminent domain which is good over lands\noccupied by the living, and far better over estates abandoned by the\ndead, it becomes the duty of society to maintain the republic, to\nassert the supreme law of justice, and thereby teach the doctrine so\nlong forgotten by followers of Christianity, that all our powers and\nresources beyond our own necessities belong to our brothers. Such are\nthe principles of every real Christian. Such was the sentiment of John\nWesley; and his expression, if I recollect rightly, was that he would\nconsider himself a thief if he died with more than ten pounds in his\npossession.\n\nThese doctrines are not entirely strange--the world is beginning to\nlook in this direction already. The _heirship of the state_ is an idea\nalready broached in France, sustained by Clemenceau, Pelletan, and\nmany other distinguished citizens, and discussed in the Chamber of\nDeputies. The proposition was to limit the law of inheritance, and\nsubstitute the heirship of the state for all collateral heirs. That\neminent and practical philanthropist, M. Godin, whose name has been\nimmortalized by the Industrial Palace at Guise, warmly espoused this\nidea in all its breadth, and said:--\n\n     \"When an individual dies, society has then the right to take\n     to itself what he leaves, for it has been the chief aid of\n     the deceased. Without its aid, without its institutions, he\n     could never have been able to amass the riches of which he\n     is at his death the holder. Society inherits wealth, then,\n     to use for the same work of social progress already\n     accomplished; that is to say to allow others, the surviving\n     in general (not the privileged strangers to the creation of\n     the existing riches), to continue their labor and\n     co-operation in the common social work. The heredity of the\n     State is then just, both in principle and in fact.\"\n\nThe two measures which are necessary now are the Department of\nProductive Labor and the law of inheritance by the commonwealth, which\nlimits the transmission of estates above a hundred thousand dollars,\ngiving the commonwealth a share, rising from one to ninety-nine per\ncent. according to the magnitude of the estate--or _some other form_\nof taxation (if there be a better) producing equivalent results.\n\nI do not propose these measures as THE REMEDY _par excellence_ for our\nunhappy social condition. Not at all. They are merely the gigantic\nblows from the right arm of the commonwealth, by which the curses\nestablished in the dark and bloody past, crushing man and woman to the\nearth, shall be hurled into oblivion. The true, absolute, and complete\nREMEDY is that industrial, intellectual, hygienic, and ethical\ntraining of all, which I have published as the \"New Education\" which\nwill make new men. These are bold and revolutionary measures,[8] but\nthe surgery of the knife is sometimes what humanity demands. The mad\nriot of rivalry and selfishness must be restrained before it brings\nthe republic to ruin. The power of land monopoly must be broken by a\nland tax, and the post-mortem despotism which perpetuates accumulated\nevils must be thrown off by just and practicable legislation.\n\n      [8] Succession and income taxes are now beginning to be\n          considered. Two very feeble propositions have been\n          brought forward. The Massachusetts Legislative\n          Committee, on probate, reported a bill well adapted to\n          be worthless--to discourage benevolence and keep\n          property in the family by imposing a tax of five per\n          cent. on property left by will, except when going to\n          relatives or connections. Congressman Hall, of\n          Minnesota, introduced a bill in the last Congress for\n          an income tax, a fourth of one per cent. on incomes\n          between two and three thousand rising gradually to one\n          per cent. on incomes over $10,000. This very small\n          business is not what was demanded by \"The Farmers'\n          Alliance and Industrial Union\" in the Ocala convention,\n          which demanded the abolition of national banks and \"the\n          passage of _a graduated income tax law_.\" These demands\n          were reiterated by the last legislature of Missouri, in\n          a resolution calling upon Congress to act upon them,\n          and pledging the legislature to enforce the farmers'\n          demand as far as in their power. North Carolina, too,\n          has adopted the Alliance principles. The income tax\n          will probably be a growing one--one per cent. will not\n          be its maximum. The British income tax under Mr.\n          Gladstone in 1885 was three and a third per cent. But\n          this is mere child's play, being about equivalent to a\n          property tax of one seventh of one per cent. When\n          seriously considered, the question will be between\n          five, ten, twenty, and thirty per cent.\n\nWe must act upon the undisguised truth that individual humanity is not\nyet properly educated, and not yet qualified to exercise its\ntrusteeship of wealth, for the hard struggles against the oppressive\npower of poverty, sickness, robbery, fraud, and sudden calamity have\nmade the self-protective faculties predominant, and the sharp rivalry\nand competition of business has so increased their predominance that\nthe thought of public welfare is never paramount, and is but an\noccasional glimmer, and the death-bed surrender of wealth, if it\nconsiders the welfare of society at all, considers it so blindly that\na large proportion of the benevolent endowments are of little real\nvalue.\n\nIt is, therefore, necessary that the outcry of suffering and the\nwarning of danger should rouse the public conscience to nobler\nprinciples, and that society in its maximum wisdom, which embraces a\nfew earnest philanthropists, many capable financiers and economists,\nvery many tender-hearted women who will not consent to suffering, and\nwho are destined to participate in government, as well as a great many\nwho are personally conscious of wrongs that need rectifying, should\nassume the administration of the SUPERFLUOUS WEALTH abnormally\naccumulated.\n\nThe change proposed is so great that its realization may be far off,\nand the evolution of law may be rivalled by the evolution of evasive\ningenuity, so that the commonwealth may be compelled to prohibit\nevasive ante-mortem donations, and to reinforce the succession tax by\nmore stringent measures, from which there can be no escape, and which\nwill control plutocracy as effectively as any succession tax, and thus\nrender the latter of less importance; but it is none the less\nimportant that the principle should be asserted, that the dead shall\nnot rule the living.\n\nThere are two obvious measures, and _one of them is sure to be adopted\nsoon_, without waiting for the abolition of unlimited inheritance. The\nincome tax is made almost necessary by the last Congress, which\nemptied the treasury, and the income tax, if made accumulative,\nincreasing its rates with the increase of income, will be as\neffective a control over plutocracy as the people wish to make it. The\n_increasing rate_ of taxation upon superfluous wealth, is a sacred\nprinciple for which every reformer should contend.\n\nBut even this is not fortified against evasion, and we need the most\nefficient tax of all--the progressively accumulating tax on wealth,\nwhich will gather a large rental from all the _superfluous_ millions,\ncompelling the holders to use them profitably. A three per cent. tax\non all over ten millions would not only enrich the commonwealth, but\nstimulate industry in millionnaires. How long will the millionnaires\nbe able to defeat such legislation?\n\n_These are the coming taxes._ They are not untried theories, for\nSwitzerland, the foremost nation in democracy, enjoys both the income\ntax and the progressively accumulating tax, which falls most heavily\non the largest properties.\n\nIt is to be hoped that political corruption and intrigue will not\ndelay many years this assertion of the sovereignty of the commonwealth\nby taxation, which will give the republic a solid foundation, and that\nthe power of the commonwealth thus enlarged will, through the\nDepartment of Productive Labor, and by educational progress, give us a\ntrue and a happy republic. These suggestions are not farther in\nadvance of public opinion to-day, than was the nationalization of the\nland, when I urged it in 1847. They will find fit champions in a few\nyears.\n\nTo what extent the Department of Productive Labor should be fostered\nby every State, and to what extent it may be authorized by the federal\nconstitution, we need not yet consider, for it is apparent that the\ndue administration of the national domain and development of the arid\nregion by irrigation, will furnish ample employment, if we adopt as a\nsacred principle, the demand of justice, that _not another acre of the\nnational domain shall ever be sold_. Let us give settlers the easiest\npossible terms, but never surrender to monopoly the land of the\ncommonwealth.\n\n\n\n\n\"AEONIAN PUNISHMENT.\"\n\nBY REV. W. E. MANLEY, D. D.\n\n\nSome months ago an article with the above heading appeared in THE\nARENA. It was written by Rev. C. H. Kidder, and was intended as a\nreply to one written by myself, on the eternal punishment.\n\nIt appears that a friend of Mr. Kidder, a physician \"of great\nability,\" on reading my article was caused great disquietude. \"He felt\nthat if all the statements contained in the article were accurate, his\nreligious instructors had been either knaves or fools--knaves, if they\ntaught what they did not believe, and fools, if they believed what\nthey taught,\" p. 101. I have only to say that the statements of my\narticle are, in all important respects, accurate, explain the rest as\nhe may; nor has Mr. Kidder shown that they are not accurate, except in\none particular, not affecting the main question. This will be noticed\nin the proper place.\n\nIt is often true that men \"of great ability\" are men of hasty\njudgment, especially when they are \"much disquieted\"; and the doctor\nis certainly mistaken in supposing that his instructors were either\nknaves or fools. The men who teach eternal punishment are in the main\nhonest, and of fair intelligence. The doctrine came into the church in\na dark age; and for centuries it was dangerous to believe or teach\nanything else. When the human mind was set free, and it was no longer\ndangerous to teach what one believed, the doctrine had become so\nfirmly established by a false system of interpretation, that it was a\nlong time before much impression could be made toward its removal. But\nthe Gospel leaven has been working in all these ages since the\nreformation to the present century; so that now there is little faith\nof that kind in the Orthodox church and none out of it.\n\nI have not intended to admit that all the teachers of eternal\npunishment in the church have been honest. Some have been dishonest,\nin order, as they claimed, to do the more good. There was a class of\nministers in the ancient church who had two sets of opinions, one set\nfor the congregation, and another for the private circle. Dr. Edward\nBeecher mentions several venerable men, who preached eternal misery,\nbut who had not a particle of faith in the doctrine, as he believes.\nThey are Chrysostom, Gregory Nazianzus, Athanasius, and Basil the\nGreat. See Historical Retribution, p. 273. These were great men; but a\ngreater than these had taught that it is right to lie for the good of\nmankind, namely, Plato. Who will say there have been no others since\nthat day? For the honor of humanity, I trust not many.\n\nI would say here that all Mr. Kidder has advanced, may be admitted,\nwithout the least detriment to the main purpose of my article. The\ngreater part of his paper is devoted to incidental topics that are not\nessential to the main subject, and what he says on the main point\nutterly fails to invalidate my argument, as the reader will clearly\nperceive before I get through.\n\nSo far as our version favors eternal punishment, the fact is due\nchiefly to a wrong translation; and it is difficult to suppress the\nconviction that the translators, in much of their work of this kind,\nwere perfectly conscious of the wrong they were doing. The word _hell_\nin every place where it is found (with one or two exceptions, where\nthe heathen hell is referred to) is the rendering of a word that has\nno such meaning. The word _everlasting_ combines a wrong rendering and\na wrong exegesis. These are the main points. They are the Jachin and\nBoaz of the orthodox temple. But the translators have sought to favor\ntheir doctrines in other ways; sometimes by supplying words not found\nin the text, and sometimes by rejecting words that are there.\n\nMy article was devoted chiefly to these last, particularly a wrong use\nof the Greek article, and the rejection of an important word, when it\nconflicted with their views, though they often employ it at other\ntimes.\n\nI say with the fullest confidence that the doctrine of eternal\npunishment is not in the Hebrew and Greek Scriptures. It came into the\nchurch chiefly with converts who had believed it before their\nconversion, and continued to believe it by a misconstruction of the\nScriptures.\n\n\nTHE SON OF GOD.\n\nBy not paying particular attention to what I said, my critic has\nmisrepresented me in an important particular; and has repeated the\nidea a number of times, namely, that I deny the sonship of Jesus\nChrist. I simply refer to some passages to show the importance of the\nGreek article, and some of these have the expression, \"the Son of\nGod,\" when they ought to have been rendered \"a Son of God,\" or \"a Son\nof a God\" not only because the article is omitted in the Greek, but it\nis the language of Satan, and of the heathen, and therefore more\ncharacteristic than the words _the_ Son of God. The sonship of our\nLord has evidence enough, without that of Satan and the heathen,\nespecially as the evangelists have represented them as giving no such\ntestimony.\n\nThe reference in my article to insanity and suicide was incidental;\nand whether strictly correct or not, the thousand that have been\nruined in this way is a picture sufficiently frightful, and shows that\nthe Christian religion has been greatly misapprehended; for in its\npurity, it never has, and never can, produce a single case of either\ninsanity or suicide.\n\n\nTHEOLOGICAL SEMINARY.\n\nOf the six theological seminaries, which I referred to, on the\nauthority of Dr. Edward Beecher, as existing in the early days of the\nchurch, I find on further reading that two were not theological\nseminaries, but \"schools of thought,\" as the doctor afterwards calls\nthem. One of these was in Asia Minor; and there, the annihilation of\nthe wicked was believed and taught. The other was in North Africa; and\nhere, endless punishment was the prevailing belief on the subject of\nfuture destiny. The four others were real seminaries, in which the\ndoctrine of the final holiness and happiness of all intelligent\nbeings, after future disciplinary punishment, was inculcated by men as\nmuch distinguished for piety and virtue and missionary zeal, as any in\nthe whole church.\n\nThe four schools were located at Alexandria, in Egypt, Cesarea in\nPalestine, Antioch in Syria, and Edessa or Nisibis. This last school\nwas held at the one or the other of these places, in Eastern Syria.\nWhen persecution drove it out of one of these cities, it held its\nsessions in the other. All these four schools were numerously\nattended, often having hundreds of scholars at one time. Mr. Kidder\nthinks there must have been more than this number; but as it is a mere\nconjecture with him, his opinion can have but little weight against\nthe statement of a man who has thoroughly investigated the subject. It\nwill not do to judge them after our little schools, at the present\nday, when the church is divided into scores of little communities,\neach having its insignificant seminary or seminaries. The church was\nthen one body, though each school varied slightly from the rest.\n\n\nPROFESSOR SHEDD.\n\nDr. Beecher points out and refutes the statements of Professor Shedd,\nand some others, on the prevalence of certain doctrines in the early\nchurch.\n\nProfessor Shedd, in his history of Christian doctrine, Vol. II. p.\n414, says, \"The punishment inflicted upon the lost was regarded by the\nfathers of the ancient church, with very few exceptions, as endless.\"\n\"The only exception to the belief in the eternity of future\npunishment, in the ancient church, appears in the Alexandrian school.\"\n\"The views of Origen concerning future retribution were almost wholly\nconfined to their schools.\"\n\nDr. Beecher makes the following reply. \"This statement somewhat\ntranscends the limits set by Lecky, to the doctrine of the\nrestoration. It is not confined to two individuals, but it is confined\nto one school,--the school of Alexandria. What then shall be said of\nDiodore, of Tarsus, not of the school of Alexandria, the eminent\nteacher of Chrysostom, and a decided advocate of universal\nrestoration? What shall be said of his disciple, Theodore of\nMopsuestia, that earnest defender of the same doctrine, of whom Dorner\nsays that he was the climax and crown of the school of Antioch? What\nshall be said of the great Eastern school of Edessa and Nisibis, in\nwhich the scriptural exposition of Theodore of Mopsuestia, was a\nsupreme authority and text-book? Was Theodore of the school of\nAlexandria? Not at all. He was of the school of Antioch.... And yet he\nnot only taught the doctrine of universal restoration on his own\nbasis, but even introduced it into the liturgy of the Nestorian\nChurch, in Eastern Asia. What, too, shall we say of the two great\ntheological schools, in which he had a place of such honor and\ninfluence?... Dr. Shedd would have called to mind a statement in\nGuericke's Church History, _as translated by himself_, \"It is\nnoticeable that the exegetico-grammatical school of Antioch, as well\nas the allegorizing Alexandrian, adopted and maintained the doctrine\nof restoration, p. 349, note 1.\" Then it should be added that Origen\nwas not the only one of the Alexandrian school, who taught this\ndoctrine. Clemens, who preceded Origen, taught it; and Didymus who\nsucceeded him. The whole period of the presidency of these men over\nthe school must have been a century or more. And yet the great body of\nChristians, as Professor Shedd would have us believe, were believers\nin eternal punishment; but they neither turned these men out, nor\nestablished any other school to counteract their influence. They must\nhave been a trifle different from believers in the doctrine now. And\nwhat is very remarkable, we hear of no books or essays written against\nthe doctrine of the Alexandrian school, as if it were a pernicious\nheresy.\n\nChurch historians in modern times impose on their readers by quoting\npassages from ancient Christian writers, that employ the word\n_everlasting_ in connection with punishment, leaving the impression\nthat these words were understood then as they are now, when in fact\nbelievers in limited punishment, as well as those who thought\npunishment endless, employed the term _everlasting (ai[=o]nios_) to\ndenote its duration. Origen and Clemens speak of everlasting\npunishment, though they believed it would end in reformation and\nsalvation. Justin Martyr and Irenaeus warn men of everlasting\npunishment, though they believed in the annihilation of the wicked.\n\n\nMORAL RESURRECTION.\n\nIn some instances the resurrection is used in the same way as the new\nbirth, to denote conversion. Such is John v. 21-29. The change thus\nindicated is commonly called a moral resurrection. My critic would\nhave the last two verses refer to the general resurrection at the end\nof the world; while he seems to admit that all the rest relates to a\nmoral resurrection, two things as unlike as they possibly could be.\nSuch is not our Lord's mode of teaching. I understand the whole\npassage as confined to one subject, the moral resurrection. He divides\nthe subject into two parts, to be sure, but it is the same subject in\nboth parts--first, the moral resurrection then in progress; and\nsecond, the moral resurrection \"coming\" on a more extensive scale,\neven embracing all men. Jesus changes one word only, using\n_graves_,--more properly _tombs_,--instead of _death_. But coming out\nof death into life, and coming out of the tombs into life, are\nessentially the same thing. Both are figurative expressions. I insist\nthat where Jesus says, \"The hour is coming and now is,\" he conveys\nthe impression that the then present process was in its nature the\nsame as the coming one, only that the latter would be more extended,\neven universal.\n\n\nTHE WORD A GOD.\n\nThat Trinitarians should translate this expression, The Word was God,\nin John i. 1, might be expected; but by the rules of translating the\nGreek language into English, the expression should be, The Word was a\ngod. The rule of Middleton that the article must not be used in the\npredicate of a sentence may hold good, when it conflicts with no\nsuperior rule; but if taken absolutely, it has many exceptions. I\nsuppose the renowned Origen understood the Greek language. He\ninterprets the passage before us as I do. \"Origen uses [Greek: theos]\n(god), not in our modern sense, as a proper name, but as a common\nname. This use of the term, _which was common to him with his\ncontemporaries_, and continued to be common after his time, is\nillustrated by his remarks on the passage, 'and the Logos was God'; in\nwhich he contended, that the Logos was god, in an inferior sense;--not\nas we would say God, but _a god_, not _the_ divine being, but _a_\ndivine being. (Opp. iv. p. 48, reqq.).\" See Norton's Statement of\nReasons, p. 120, note.\n\nThe quotation from the Athanasian creed had better been omitted; for\nmany will read it, who had not before known that it contained any such\nabsurdity; and will have less respect for the Trinity than they would\nwish to have. The quotation is, \"The Father is God, the Son is God,\nand the Holy Spirit is God; and yet they (?) are not three Gods, but\none God.\" I am accused of following an \"uncritical principle,\" in not\nreasoning in the same way. If it is \"uncritical,\" I plead guilty, and\nbeg that my sentence may be as mild as possible. But before the\nsentence is pronounced may it not be well to apply the reasoning to\nsome other subject,--to Peter, James, and John, for instance? Each of\nthese is a man; but they are not three men but one man!\n\n\nMELLO.\n\nI complained that the translators and revisors left out this word,\napparently for the reason that it conflicts with their theology. It\nmakes certain things to be near at hand, which they regarded as far in\nthe future. My critic says, \"The Greek _mell[=o]_ frequently has the\nmeaning assigned to it by Dr. Manley, but it is not shut up to that\nmeaning,\" p. 106. It probably has that meaning twenty times, where it\nhas any other meaning once. In the passages from which it is excluded,\nif it has any other meaning, why did they not retain it, and render it\naccording to its true import, and not throw it out? Mr. Kidder does\nnot meet the case, when he shows that the word does sometimes have\nanother meaning. His business is to show that _it has no meaning_, in\nthe passages from which it is excluded. It will then be in order to\nshow why the writers put such a word in these passages. When the\ntranslators recognize the word, they seldom fail to give it a meaning\ncorresponding to the sense I assign to it.\n\nIt is conceded that the wrath to come (Matt. iii. 7; Luke iii. 7.),\nshould probably be the wrath _about_ to come, meaning the destruction\nsoon to fall on the Jewish State. This word _mell[=o]_ (about) takes\nthe passage out of the hands of those who would apply it to a far-off\neternal punishment. The word in other passages would have been alike\nopposed to the common construction; and, therefore, it was left out.\nThis is the plain common-sense view of the case; and I shall hold the\ntranslators and revisers guilty of a base fraud, till some good reason\ncan be given for their conduct. This probably cannot be done.\n\nAI[=O]N, AI[=O]NIOS. That the expression, \"end of the world,\" where\nthe original for _world_ is _ai[=o]n_, ever has the meaning of end of\nthis material universe cannot be proved. Where Jesus promises to be\nwith his disciples to the end of the world (_ai[=o]n_) is the most\nfavorable instance. But in the sense here intended, namely, enabling\nthem to perform miracles, he was with them, only to the end of the\nJewish age. By that time the Gospel was so well established, as no\nlonger to need miraculous interposition. In what sense Jesus was with\nthe disciples, is explained by the closing words of Mark's Gospel.\n\"And they went forth, preaching everywhere, the Lord working with\nthem, and confirming the word, by the signs that followed. Amen.\"\n\nMy critic says of _ai[=o]n_, p. 107: \"It may at times refer to the\nJewish dispensation, with its limit fixed at the judgment executed\nupon the holy city, and the destruction of the temple.\" Then it _may\nmean_ this, in Matt. xiii. 38, 39, 49, and xxiv. 3. \"It does not\nalways mean age; for this meaning is inadequate for the _worlds_,\n_ai[=o]nos_, of Heb. i. 2, xi. 3.\" It does not seem so; for God\ncreated the ages and dispensations of time, as much as he did the\nmaterial worlds. _Constituted_ may be better than _created_. God is\nthe author of both creations. Aion is a term that always implies time,\nor duration, and not material substance. De Quincey says that\neverything has its aion. The _ai[=o]n_ of an individual man is about\nseventy years. The aion of the human race would probably be some\nmillions of years. It would follow from this reasoning that the\n_ai[=o]n_ of God would be eternal, past, and to come. De Quincey does\nnot, I believe, carry his reasoning to this result; and I had never\nseen the argument stated before, as it is in the passages produced by\nMr. K., from Aristotle and Plato. But the same reasoning that makes\nthe _ai[=o]n_ of God eternal, makes every other limited. It would be\nillogical, and appear so at once, if one should argue, God is eternal;\nand, therefore, punishment is eternal.\n\nThe rule generally accepted for understanding _ai[=o]nios_, is to\nmodify the meaning according to the nature of the noun which it\nqualifies. If it denote duration, the amount of duration will depend\non the noun qualified. This rule forbids that eternal punishment\nshould be of as long duration as eternal life. Punishment is a means\nto an end, and in itself is undesirable. Life or happiness is an end;\nthe longer continued the better; for it is desirable in itself. It is\nthat which we seek by means of punishment. The less we have of\npunishment, the better. The more we have of life, the better.\n\nMy critic ought to have pondered the words of Dr. Taylor Lewis, before\nhe entered on this discussion. His words are, \"The preacher, in\ncontending with the Universalist and the Restorationist, would commit\nan error, and it may be, suffer a failure in his argument, should he\nlay the whole stress of it on the etymological or historical\nsignificance of the words, _ai[=o]n_, _ai[=o]nios_, and attempt to\nprove that of themselves they necessarily carry the meaning of endless\nduration.\" Lange's Eccl. p. 48. Beecher's \"Retribution,\" p. 154. Prof.\nLewis says that _ai[=o]nios_ means _pertaining to the age or world to\ncome_. The only fault this definition has, is the addition of the\nwords _to come_. Jesus says, \"These shall go away into the punishment\nof the age, and the righteous into the life of the age.\" The age\nreferred to, is the Christian age or dispensation, that has already\ncome. It is the same as has all along been called, \"the age to come,\"\nor about to come. It was to follow the Jewish age, which was soon to\nend. Both together are referred to as \"this age and that which is\nabout to come.\" But when the parable of the sheep and goats begins,\nthe age is already come.\n\nThe form here given by Taylor Lewis is the same as Jesus himself used,\nif he spoke the Aramaic, as my critic says he did, and I agree with\nhim. He did not say, \"These shall go away into _ai[=o]nion_\npunishment,\" etc., which is the unwarranted Greek form. But his words\nare, \"These shall go away into the punishment of the age (or\npertaining to the age), and the righteous into the life of the age (or\npertaining to the age).\" It is the same form in the Peshito-Syriac\nversion, made in the days of the Apostles. It is the same in the\nHebrew New Testament, translated by the Bible society, to circulate\namong the modern Jews.\n\nI have in my possession over a hundred passages, from classic Greek\nauthors, in which _ai[=o]n_ is used in a limited sense, generally\ndenoting human life, or the age of man. It is used, in a few\ninstances, to denote an endless age, by attaching to it another word\nfor _endless_. The adjective _ai[=o]nios_ is used very little by these\nauthors, and not at all, I think, by the more ancient ones. No lexicon\ngives it the definition of eternal, till long after the time of\nChrist; and the remark is added, when thus defined, that it is so\nunderstood by the _theologians_.\n\nBut the principal help for understanding the Greek of the New\nTestament, is the Greek version of the Old Testament, the Septuagint.\nThe words we are discussing are found in that version not far from\nfour hundred times, three fourths of them probably in a limited sense.\nThe Hebrew form, \"the statutes of the age,\" are rendered into Greek,\neverlasting or _ai[=o]nion_ statutes; \"the covenant of the age,\" the\n_ai[=o]nion_ covenant, etc. These terms have sixteen different\nrenderings. They are, _everlasting_, _forever_, _forevermore_,\n_perpetual_, _ever_, _never_ (when joined with a negative particle),\n_old_, _ancient_, _long_, _always_, _world_, _lasting_, _eternal_,\n_continuance_, _at any time_, _Elam_. The last word stands for the\nHebrew _olam_, the word answering to _ai[=o]n_ in the Greek. With\nthese definitions in view (a number of them being limited terms), it\nwould be folly to claim that this word has an unlimited meaning when\napplied to punishment. The punishment which God inflicts is limited.\nHeb. 12.\n\nGreat stress is placed on the circumstance, that in Matt. xxv. 46,\nthe punishment and the life are spoken of near together, even in the\nsame verse. Tertullian, and later Augustine, urged this fact as proof\nthat both must be of the same duration. The late Albert Barns thought\nthe argument sound. Of course, no large man ever rode a large horse,\nwithout being of the same size. Perhaps an illustration from Scripture\nwill be more satisfactory. \"And the eternal mountains were scattered;\nthe everlasting hills did bow; his ways are everlasting.\" Hab. iii. 6.\nFor the last sentence, see the margin, Revised Edition. Are there to\nbe no ways of God, after the mountains and hills are gone? Besides,\nthis whole parable has its fulfilment, not in eternity, but in the\nChristian dispensation. It began to be fulfilled at the coming of\nChrist, when some were living, who had heard him, during his ministry,\nnearly forty years before. Matt. xvi. 27, 28. No fixed rewards and\npunishments are possible under the circumstances, for men are\nchanging. The rendering \"pertaining to the age,\" has no objection of\nthis kind. If it be claimed that a man, \"once a Christian, always a\nChristian,\" no one can doubt, that a man, not a Christian, may become\none, and so change his condition--a proof that his condition is not\neternal.\n\nI will close this article by a few words on the apocalypse. The\ndramatic representation of Eichhorn is correct, save the added clause,\n\"the eternal felicity of the future life described.\" The holy city is\nnot heaven; it came down from God _out of heaven_. It does not denote\na final and fixed condition. It is four-square, and has three gates on\neach side; and all of them open continually, to admit those who wish\nto enter; and the invitation is sounded without ceasing, to the\noutsiders from within, to \"come and partake of the waters of life\nfreely.\" Neither in the New Jerusalem, nor the lake of fire, is there\nany allusion to the eternal world of fixed and changeless conditions.\n\nIn those days, when books were not printed, but transcribed by the\nhand, it was customary for the author to make a strong appeal to the\ncopyist or transcriber, not to make any alteration in the book, with\ncertain penalties, fictitious or otherwise. Hence the Revelation\ncloses with this admonition,--not to add to, nor take from, the book\n(xxii. 18, 19.), the penalty being sufficiently severe, to which I\nwould commend the late revisers of the New Testament.\n\n\n\n\nTHE NEGRO QUESTION FROM THE NEGRO'S POINT OF VIEW.\n\nBY PROF. W. S. SCARBOROUGH.\n\n\nIn the discussion of the so-called \"Negro Problem,\" there is, as a\nrule, a great deal of the sentimental and still more of the\nsensational. By a series of _non sequitur_ arguments the average\ndisputant succeeds admirably in proving what is foreign to the\nsubject. This is true of writers of both sections of our\ncountry--North as well as South--but especially true of those of the\nSouth.\n\nThe recent symposium of Southern writers in the _Independent_ on the\nNegro Question, as interesting as it was for novelty and variety of\nview, is no exception to the rule. If the negro could be induced to\nbelieve for a moment that he was thus actually destitute of all the\nelements that go to make up a rational creature, his life would be\nmiserable beyond endurance. But he has not reached that point nor does\nhe care to reach it. Others may exclaim:--\n\n    \"O wad some power the giftie gi'e us\n    To see oursel's as ithers see us;\"\n\nbut not the negro, if the vision must always be so distorted. The\nblack man is naturally of a sanguine temperament, as has so often been\nsaid; and the facts in the case bear him out in entertaining a hopeful\nview of his own future and his ability to carve it out. I am sure that\nthey do not warrant even our Southern friends in taking such a\npessimistic view of the situation, so far as the negro himself is\nconcerned. But facts are of little account nowadays. There is a\ntendency to ignore them and appeal to the prejudices and passions of\nmen, and that, too, when it is well known that such methods of\nprocedure prolong rather than settle the question at issue. This is\nthe work of the alarmist--to keep things stirred up and always in an\nunsettled state.\n\nI think it may be justly inferred that the average white man does not\nunderstand the black man, and that he is still an unknown quantity to\nmany of the white people of the country, even to those who profess to\nknow him best. Admitting this, then, it is but natural that much of\ntheir deliberation and many of their conclusions should be wide of the\nmark. The negro does not censure the white man for his conclusions as\nthey are the logical consequence of his premises, but he _does_ object\nto his premises. Our white friends make their mistake in seeming by\nall their movements to insist that there is but one standpoint from\nwhich to view this question, the white man's; but there is another and\nthe negro is viewing it from that side, not selfishly but in a\nfriendly and brotherly spirit.\n\nSenator George was right when he said that the solution of this\nquestion should be left to time, but wrong when he further added, \"and\nto the sound judgment of the Southern people.\" The recent\ndisfranchisement of the negroes of his native State shows very plainly\nto the thoughtful citizen that the South is not yet capable of justly\nhandling this question, notwithstanding that they are the people \"who\nhave the trouble before them every day.\" This is Mississippi's fatal\nmistake and one that places the State in the rear of her Southern\nsisters, and for the present, at least, lessens the value of any\nsuggestion from that quarter.\n\nIt is well understood that the sentiment of the American people is\nthat enough has been done for the negro; that the country is under no\nobligations to look further after his interest, and that he must act\nfor himself. Survival of the fittest is now the watchword. There is no\nobjection to this provided the blacks are _allowed_ to do for\nthemselves,--to survive as the fittest, if it be possible,--but this\nthey are not allowed to do. They are certainly anxious to work out\ntheir own destiny. They are tired of sentiment and are therefore\nimpatient. They desire to show to the world that they are not only\nmisunderstood but misjudged. They are willing to unite with either\nNorth or South in the adjustment of present difficulties.\n\nUnlike the Indians they are sincere--neither treacherous nor\ndeceitful. They are simple, frank, and open-hearted, and are as\ndesirous of good government as are the most honored citizens of the\nland. Let alone, they will give neither the State nor the nation any\ntrouble. They feel themselves a part and parcel of the nation and as\nsuch have an interest in its prosperity as deep as those who are\nallowed to exercise, untrammelled, the rights of citizenship.\n\nTo keep the blacks submissive there is need of neither army nor navy.\nThough at the foot of the ladder they are contented to remain there,\nuntil by virtue of their own efforts they may rise to higher planes.\nThe negro has never sought, does not now, nor will he seek to step\nbeyond his limit. \"Social equality,\" \"Negro domination,\" and \"Negro\nsupremacy,\" are meaningless terms to him so far as his own aspirations\nare concerned. The social side of this question will regulate itself.\nIt has always done so, in all ages and all climes, despite coercion,\ndespite law. This is the least of the negro's cares. His demand for\ncivil rights is no demand for \"social equality.\" This is a mistaken\nview of the subject. It is this dread of social equality, this fear of\nsocial contact with the negro that precludes many well-meaning people\nfrom securing accurate information in regard to the aims, and\npurposes, and capabilities of those whom they desire to help. But\nthere is light ahead, dark as at times it now may seem, and erroneous\nas are the views in regard to the negro's relation to the American\nbody-politic.\n\nCongressman Herbert, in his effort to show the negro's incapacity for\nself-government by calling attention to the defalcations,\nembezzlements, and petty larcenies, etc., of reconstruction times,\nforgets that if this is to be taken as the gauge of capacity for\nself-government, the same rule will apply to bank and railroad\nwreckers of the present day,--to every defaulter and embezzler of\nState and private funds, and to every absconding clerk. Now we must\nremember that this class of citizens is enormously large, and that\nthey are all white, as a rule. Every daily paper that one picks up\ndevotes considerable space to this class of citizens who, according to\nMr. Herbert, has shown its \"incapacity for self-government,\" as well\nas the incapacity of others \"who alone have acquired such a capacity\"\nas is claimed by Congressman Barnes. Queer logic is it not? The latter\nshould say so, for it is he who claims that \"the Anglo-Saxon is the\nonly member of the human family who has yet shown evidence of a\ncapacity for self-government.\"\n\nAgain, it is said that the negro cannot attain high and rigid\nscholarship, and even those who have succeeded in becoming educated\n\"if left to themselves would relapse into barbarism.\" Now, I cannot\nbelieve that any such statement as this can be made with sincerity. In\nthe light of the facts it is preposterous. Flipper, while at West\nPoint, demonstrated beyond controversy the fallacy of such a position\nas the first; and there is hardly a college commencement in which some\nnegro in some way does not continue to show its falsity by\ndistinguishing himself by his extraordinary attainments. Even while I\nwrite, a letter lies before me from a young colored student, a\ngraduate of Brown University, who is now taking a post-graduate course\nat the American School for Classical Studies, at Athens, Greece. From\nall reports, he is making an excellent record, and will present a\nthesis in March on \"The Demes of Athens.\" As to relapsing into\nbarbarism, were the negro removed from white influence, the mere\nmention of the negro scholar, Dr. Edward Blyden, born on the island of\nSt. Thomas, educated and reared in Africa away from the slightest\nsocial contact with people of Anglo-Saxon extraction, is sufficient\nproof that such a conclusion is not a correct one.\n\nWhat a leading journal has said in regard to the Indians may be\nrepeated here as applicable to the negro: \"The most crying need in\nIndian [negro] affairs is its disentanglement from politics and\npolitical manipulations.\"\n\nHere is an opportunity for the Church, but the Church has shown itself\nwholly inadequate to meet the case, and because of its tendency to\nshirk its duty, may be said to be to blame for many of the troubles\ngrowing out of the presence of the negro on this continent. I have\nnoted that there is more prejudice in the Church, as a rule, than\nthere is in the State. If, as is asserted by some, neither Church nor\nState can settle this question, then there is nothing to be done but\nto leave it to time and the combined patience and forbearance of the\nAmerican people,--black as well as white.\n\n\n\n\nA PRAIRIE HEROINE.\n\nBY HAMLIN GARLAND.\n\n\nLucretia Burns had never been handsome, even in her days of early\ngirlhood, and now she was middle aged, distorted with work and\nchild-bearing, and looking faded and worn as one of the boulders that\nlay beside the pasture fence near where she sat milking a large white\ncow.\n\nShe had no shawl or hat and no shoes, for it was still muddy in the\nlittle yard, where the cattle stood patiently fighting the flies and\nmosquitoes swarming into their skins already wet with blood. The\nevening was oppressive with its heat, and a ring of just-seen\nthunder-heads gave premonitions of an approaching storm.\n\nAn observer seeing Lucretia Burns as she rose from the cow's side, and\ntaking her pails of foaming milk staggered toward the gate, would have\nbeen made weak with sympathetic pain. The two pails hung from her lean\narms, her bare feet slipped on the filthy ground, her greasy and faded\ncalico dress showed her tired, swollen ankles, and the mosquitoes\nswarmed mercilessly on her neck and bedded themselves in her colorless\nhair.\n\nThe children were quarrelling at the well and the sound of blows could\nbe heard. Calves were querulously calling for their milk, and little\nturkeys lost in the tangle of grass were piping plaintively.\n\nThe sun just setting struck through a long, low rift like a boy\npeeping beneath the eaves of a huge roof. Its light brought out\nLucretia's face as she leaned her sallow forehead on the top bar of\nthe gate and looked towards the west.\n\nIt was a pitifully worn, almost tragic face,--long, thin, sallow,\nhollow-eyed. The mouth had long since lost the power to shape itself\ninto a kiss, and had a droop at the corners which seemed to announce a\nbreaking down at any moment into a despairing wail. The collarless\nneck and sharp shoulders showed painfully.\n\nShe felt vaguely that the night was beautiful, the setting sun, the\nnoise of frogs, the nocturnal insects beginning to pipe--all in some\nway called her girlhood back to her, though there was little in her\ngirlhood to give her pleasure. Her large gray eyes (her only\ninteresting feature) grew round, deep, and wistful as she saw the\nillimitable craggy clouds grow crimson, roll slowly up, and fire at\nthe top. A childish scream recalled her.\n\n\"Oh my soul!\" she half groaned, half swore, as she lifted her milk and\nhurried to the well. Arriving there, she cuffed the children right and\nleft with all her remaining strength, saying in justification:--\n\n\"My soul! can't you--you young 'uns give me a minute's peace? Land\nknows, I'm almost gone up--washin' an' milkin' six cows, and tendin'\nyou and cookin' f'r _him_, ought'o be enough f'r one day! Sadie, you\nlet him drink now'r I'll slap your head off, you hateful thing! Why\ncan't you behave, when you know I'm jest about dead.\" She was weeping\nnow, with nervous weakness. \"Where's y'r pa?\" she asked after a\nmoment, wiping her eyes with her apron.\n\nOne of the group, the one cuffed last, sniffled out, in rage and\ngrief:--\n\n\"He's in the cornfield,--where'd ye s'pose he was?\"\n\n\"Good land! why don't the man work all night? Sile, you put that\ndipper in that milk agin, an' I'll whack you till your head'll swim!\nSadie, le' go Pet, an' go 'n get them turkeys out of the grass 'fore\nit gits dark! Bob, you go tell y'r dad if he wants the rest o' them\ncows milked, he's got 'o do it himself. I jest can't, and what's more\nI _won't_,\" she ended rebelliously.\n\nHaving strained the milk and fed the children, she took some skimmed\nmilk from the cans and started to feed the calves bawling strenuously\nbehind the barn. The eager and unruly brutes pushed and struggled to\nget into the pails all at once, and in consequence spilt nearly all of\nthe milk on the ground. This was the last trial,--the woman fell down\non the damp grass and moaned and sobbed like a crazed thing. The\nchildren stood around like little partridges, looking at her in\nsilence, till at last the little one began to wail. Then the mother\nrose wearily to her feet, and walked slowly back towards the house.\n\nShe heard Burns threshing his team at the well, with the sound of\noaths. He was tired, hungry, and ill-tempered, but she was too\ndesperate to care. His poor, overworked team did not move quick enough\nfor him, and his extra long turn in the corn had made him dangerous.\nHis eyes gleamed from his dust-laid face.\n\n\"Supper ready?\" he growled.\n\n\"Yes, two hours ago.\"\n\n\"Well, I can't help it! That devilish corn is getting too tall to plow\nagain, and I've got 'o go through it to-morrow or not at all. Cows\nmilked?\"\n\n\"Part of 'em.\"\n\n\"How many?\"\n\n\"Three.\"\n\n\"Hell! Which three?\"\n\n\"Spot, and Brin, and Cherry.\"\n\n\"_Of_ course! kept the three worst ones. I'll be damned if I milk 'm\nto-night. I don't see why you play out jest the nights I need ye\nmost--\" here he kicked a child out of the way. \"Git out 'o that! Haint\nye got no sense? I'll learn ye--\"\n\n\"Stop that, Sim Burns!\" cried the woman, snatching up the child.\n\"You're a reg'lar ol' hyeny,--that's what you are--\" she added\ndefiantly, roused at last from her lethargy.\n\n\"You're a--beauty, that's what _you_ are,\" he said, pitilessly. \"Keep\nyour brats out f'um under my feet;\" and he strode off to the barn\nafter his team, leaving her with a fierce hate in her heart. She heard\nhim yelling at his team in their stalls.\n\nThe children had had their supper so she took them to bed. She was\nunusually tender to them for she wanted to make up in some way for her\nharshness. The ferocity of her husband had shown up her own petulant\ntemper hideously, and she sat and sobbed in the darkness a long time\nbeside the cradle where the little Pet slept.\n\nShe heard Burns come growling in and tramp about,--the supper was on\nthe table, he could wait on himself. There was an awful feeling at her\nheart as she sat there and the house grew quiet. She thought of\nsuicide in a vague way; of somehow taking her children in her arms and\nsinking into a lake somewhere, where she would never more be troubled,\nwhere she could sleep forever, without toil or hunger.\n\nThen she thought of the little turkeys wandering in the grass, of the\nchildren sleeping at last, of the quiet, wonderful stars. Then she\nthought of the cows left unmilked, and listened to them stirring\nuneasily in the yard. She rose, at last, and stole forth. She could\nnot rid herself of the thought that they would suffer. She knew what\nthe dull ache in the full breasts of a mother was, and she could not\nlet them stand at the bars all night moaning for relief.\n\nThe mosquitoes had gone, but the frogs and katy-dids still sang, while\nover in the west Venus shone. She was a long time milking the cows;\nher hands were so tired she had often to stop and rest them, while the\ntears fell unheeded into the pail. She saw and felt little of the\nexternal as she sat there. She thought of how sweet it seemed the\nfirst time Sim came to see her, of the many rides to town with him\nwhen he was an accepted lover, of the few things he had given her, a\ncoral breastpin and a ring.\n\nShe felt no shame at her present miserable appearance, she was past\nthat; she hardly felt as if the tall, strong girl, attractive with\nhealth and hope, could be the same soul as the woman who now sat in\nutter despair listening to the heavy breathing of the happy cows,\ngrateful for the relief from their burden of milk.\n\nShe contrasted her lot with that of two or three women that she knew,\nnot a very high standard, who \"kept hired help,\" and who had \"fine\nhouses of four or five rooms.\" Even the neighbors were better off than\nshe, for they didn't have such quarrels. But she wasn't to blame--Sim\ndidn't--then her mind changed to a vague resentment against \"things;\"\neverything seemed against her.\n\nShe rose at last and carried her second load of milk to the well,\nstrained it, washed out the pails, and after bathing her tired feet in\na tub that stood there, she put on a pair of horrible shoes without\nstockings, and crept stealthily into the house. Sim did not hear her\nas she slipped up the stairs to the little low, unfinished chamber\nbeside her oldest children,--she could not bear to sleep near _him_\nthat night,--she wanted a chance to sob herself to quiet.\n\nAs for Sim, he was a little disturbed but would as soon have cut off\nhis head as acknowledge himself in the wrong, but he yelled as he went\nto bed, and found her still away:--\n\n\"Say, ol' woman, aint ye comin' to bed?\" and upon receiving no answer\nhe rolled his aching body into the creaking bed. \"Do as ye damn please\nabout it. If ye wan' to sulk y' can.\" And in such wise the family grew\nquiet in sleep, while the moist, warm air pulsed with the ceaseless\nchime of the crickets.\n\n\nII.\n\nWhen Sim Burns woke the next morning he felt a sharper twinge of\nremorse. It was not a broad or well-defined feeling, just a sense that\nhe'd been unduly irritable, not that on the whole he was not in the\nright. Little Pet lay with the warm June sunshine filling his baby\neyes, curiously content in striking at flies that buzzed around his\nlittle mouth.\n\nThe man thrust his dirty naked feet into his huge boots, and, without\nwashing his face or combing his hair, went out to the barn to do his\nchores.\n\nHe was a type of the prairie farmer and his whole surrounding was\ntypical. He had a quarter-section of fine level land, mortgaged, of\ncourse, but his house was a little box-like structure, costing,\nperhaps, five hundred dollars. It had three rooms and the ever-present\n\"summer kitchen\" attached to the back. It was unpainted and had no\ntouch of beauty, a mere box.\n\nHis stable was built of slabs and banked and covered with straw. It\nlooked like a den, was low and long, and had but one door in the end.\nThe cow-yard held ten or fifteen cattle of various kinds, while a few\ncalves were bawling from a pen near by. Behind the barn on the west\nand north was a fringe of willows forming a \"wind-break.\" A few broken\nand discouraged fruit trees standing here and there among the weeds\nformed the garden. In short, he was spoken of by his neighbors as \"a\nhard-working cuss, and tollably well fixed.\"\n\nNo grace had come or ever _could_ come into his life. Back of him were\ngenerations of men like himself, whose main' business had been to work\nhard, live miserably, and beget children to take their places after\nthey died. He was a product.\n\nHis courtship had been delayed so long on account of poverty that it\nbrought little of humanizing emotion into his life. He never\nmentioned it now, or if he did, it was only to sneer obscenely at it.\nHe had long since ceased to kiss his wife or even speak kindly to her.\nThere was no longer any sanctity to life or love. He chewed tobacco\nand toiled on from year to year without any very clearly defined idea\nof the future.\n\nHe was tall, dark, and strong, in a flat-chested, slouching sort of\nway, and had grown neglectful of even decency in his dress. He wore\nthe American farmer's customary outfit of rough brown pants, hickory\nshirt, and greasy white hat. It differed from his neighbors, mainly in\nbeing a little dirtier and more ragged. His grimy hands were broad and\nstrong as the clutch of a bear, and he \"was a turrible feller to turn\noff work,\" as Council said. \"I druther have Sim Burns work for me one\nday than some men three. He's a linger.\" He worked with unusual speed\nthis morning, and ended by milking all the cows himself as a sort of\nsavage penance for his misdeeds the previous evening, muttering in\nself-defence:--\n\n\"Seems 's if ever' cussid thing piles on to me at once. That corn, the\nroad-tax, and hayin' comin' on, and now _she_ gits her back up--\"\n\nWhen he went back to the well he sloshed himself thoroughly in the\nhorse-trough and went to the house. He found breakfast ready but his\nwife was not in sight. The older children were clamoring around the\nuninviting breakfast table, spread with cheap plates and with boiled\npotatoes and fried salt pork as the principal dish.\n\n\"Where's y'r ma?\" he asked, with a threatening note in his voice, as\nhe sat down by the table.\n\n\"She's in the bedroom.\"\n\nHe rose and pushed open the door. The mother sat with the babe in her\nlap, looking out of the window down across the superb field of\ntimothy, moving like a lake. She did not look round. She only grew\nrigid. Her thin neck throbbed with the pulsing of blood to her head.\n\n\"What's got into you, _now_?\" he said brutally; \"don't be a fool. Come\nout and eat breakfast with me, an' take care o' y'r young ones.\"\n\nShe neither moved nor made a sound. With an oath he turned on his heel\nand went out to the table. Eating his breakfast in his usual wolfish\nfashion, he went out into the hot sun with his team and ridding\nplow, not a little disturbed by this new phase of his wife's\n\"cantankerousness.\" He plowed steadily and sullenly all the forenoon,\nin the terrific heat and dust. The air was full of tempestuous\nthreats, still and sultry, one of those days when work is a\npunishment. When he came in at noon he found things the same,--dinner\non the table, but his wife out in the garden with the youngest child.\n\n\"I c'n stand it as long as _she_ can,\" he said to himself, in the\nhearing of the children. When he finished the field of corn it was\nafter sundown, and he came up to the house, hot, dusty, his shirt\nwringing wet with sweat, and his neck aching with the work of looking\ndown all day at the cornrows. His mood was still stern. The\nmultitudinous lift, and stir, and sheen of the wide green field had\nbeen lost upon him.\n\n\"I wonder if she's milked them cows,\" he muttered to himself. He gave\na sigh of relief to find she had. But she had done so not for his\nsake, but for the sake of the poor, patient, dumb brutes.\n\nWhen he went to the bedroom after supper, he found that the cradle and\nhis wife's few little boxes and parcels--poor pathetic properties--had\nbeen removed to the garret which they called a chamber, and he knew he\nwas to sleep alone again.\n\n\"She'll git over it, I guess.\" He was very tired but he didn't feel\nquite comfortable enough to sleep. The air was oppressive. His shirt\nwet in places, and stiff with dust in other places, oppressed him more\nthan usual, so he rose and removed it, getting a clean one out of a\ndrawer. This was an unusual thing for him, for he usually slept in the\nsame shirt which he wore in his day's work, but it was Saturday night,\nand he felt justified in the extravagance.\n\nIn the meanwhile poor Lucretia was brooding over her life in a most\ndangerous fashion. All she had done and suffered for Simeon Burns came\nback to her till she wondered how she had endured it all. All day long\nin the midst of the glorious summer landscape she brooded.\n\n\"I hate him,\" she thought with a fierce blazing up through the murk of\nher musing, \"I hate t' live. But they aint no hope. I'm tied down. I\ncan't leave the children, and I aint got no money. I couldn't make a\nliving out in the world. I aint never seen anything an' don't know\nanything.\"\n\nShe was too simple and too unknowing to speculate on the loss of her\nbeauty, which would have brought her competency once,--if sold in the\nright market. As she lay in her little attic bed, she was still\nsullenly thinking, wearily thinking of her life. She thought of a poor\nold horse which Sim had bought once, years before, and put to the\nplough when it was too old and weak to work. She could see her again\nas in a vision, that poor old mare, with sad head drooping, toiling,\ntoiling, till at last she could no longer move, and lying down under\nthe harness in the furrow, groaned under the whip--and died.\n\nThen she wondered if her own numbness and despair meant death, and she\nheld her breath to think harder upon it. She concluded at last,\ngrimly, that she didn't care--only for the children.\n\nThe air was frightfully close in the little attic, and she heard the\nlow mutter of the rising storm in the west. She forgot her troubles a\nlittle, listening to the far-off gigantic footsteps of the tempest.\n\n_Boom, boom, boom_, it broke nearer and nearer as if a vast cordon of\ncannon was being drawn around the horizon. Yet she was conscious only\nof pleasure. She had no fear. At last came the sweep of cool, fragrant\nstorm-wind, a short and sudden dash of rain, and then in the cool,\nsweet hush which followed, the worn and weary woman fell into a deep\nsleep.\n\nWhen she woke the younger children were playing about on the floor in\ntheir night-clothes, and little Pet was sitting in a square of\nsunshine intent on one of his shoes. He was too young to know how poor\nand squalid his surroundings were, the patch of sunshine flung on the\nfloor glorified it all. He (little animal) was happy.\n\nThe poor of the western prairies lie almost as unhealthily close\ntogether as do the poor of the city tenements. In the small hut of the\npeasant there is as little chance to escape close and tainting contact\nas in the coops and dens of the North End of proud Boston. In the\nmidst of oceans of land, floods of sunshine and gulfs of verdure, the\nfarmer lives in two or three small rooms. Poverty's eternal cordon is\never round the poor.\n\n\"Ma, why didn't you sleep with pap last night?\" asked Bob, the\nseven-year old, when he saw she was awake at last. She flushed a dull\nred.\n\n\"Sh! Because--I--it was too warm--and there was a storm comin'. You\nnever mind askin' such questions. Is he gone out?\"\n\n\"Yup. I heerd him callin' the pigs. It's Sunday, aint it, ma?\"\n\n\"Why, yes, so it is! Wal! Now Sadie, you jump up an' dress quick's y'\ncan, an' Bob an' Sile, you run down an' bring s'm water,\" she\ncommanded, in nervous haste beginning to dress. In the middle of the\nroom there was scarce space to stand beneath the rafters.\n\nWhen Sim came in for his breakfast he found it on the table but his\nwife was absent.\n\n\"Where's y'r ma?\" he asked with a little less of the growl in his\nvoice.\n\n\"She's upstairs with Pet.\"\n\nThe man ate his breakfast in dead silence, till at last Bob ventured\nto say,\n\n\"What makes ma ac' so?\"\n\n\"Shut up!\" was the brutal reply. The children began to take sides with\nthe mother--all but the oldest girl who was ten years old. To her the\nfather turned now for certain things to be done, treating her in his\nrough fashion as a housekeeper, and the girl felt flattered and docile\naccordingly.\n\nThey were pitiably clad; like most farm-children, indeed, they could\nhardly be said to be clad at all. Sadie had on but two garments, a\nsort of undershirt of cotton and a faded calico dress, out of which\nher bare, yellow little legs protruded, lamentably dirty and covered\nwith scratches.\n\nThe boys also had two garments, a hickory shirt and a pair of pants\nlike their father's, made out of brown denims by the mother's\nnever-resting hands,--hands that in sleep still sewed, and skimmed,\nand baked, and churned. The boys had gone to bed without washing their\nfeet, which now looked like toads, calloused, brown, and chapped.\n\nPart of this the mother saw with her dull eyes as she came down, after\nseeing the departure of Sim up the road with the cows. It was a\nbeautiful Sunday morning, and the woman might have sung like a bird if\nmen were only as kind to her as Nature. But she looked dully on the\nseas of ripe grasses, tangled and flashing with dew, out of which the\nbobolinks and larks sprang. The glorious winds brought her no melody,\nno perfume, no respite from toil and care.\n\nShe thought of the children she saw in the town. Children of the\nmerchant and banker, clean as little dolls, the boys in knickerbocker\nsuits, the girls in dainty white dresses, and a bitterness sprang into\nher heart. She soon put the dishes away, but felt too tired and\nlistless to do more.\n\n\"Taw-bay-wies! Pet want ta-aw-bay-wies!\" cried the little one, tugging\nat her dress.\n\nListlessly, mechanically she took him in her arms, and went out into\nthe garden which was fragrant and sweet with dew and sun. After\npicking some berries for him, she sat down on the grass under the row\nof cotton-woods, and sank into a kind of lethargy. A kingbird\nchattered and shrieked overhead, the grasshoppers buzzed in the\ngrasses, strange insects with ventriloquistic voices sang all about\nher,--she could not tell where.\n\n\"Ma, can't I put on my clean dress?\" insisted Sadie.\n\n\"I don't care,\" said the brooding woman darkly. \"Leave me alone.\"\n\nOh, if she could only lie here forever, escaping all pain and\nweariness! The wind sang in her ears, the great clouds, beautiful as\nheavenly ships, floated far above in the vast dazzling deeps of blue\nsky, the birds rustled and chirped around her, leaping-insects buzzed\nand clattered in the grass and in the vines and bushes. The goodness\nand glory of God was in the very air, the bitterness and oppression of\nman in every line of her face.\n\nBut her quiet was broken by Sadie who came leaping like a fawn down\nthrough the grass.\n\n\"O ma, Aunt Maria and Uncle William are coming. They've jest turned\nin.\"\n\n\"I don't care if they be!\" she answered in the same dully-irritated\nway. \"What're they comin' here to-day for, I wan' to know.\" She stayed\nthere immovably, till Mrs. Council came down to see her, piloted by\ntwo or three of the children. Mrs. Council, a jolly, large-framed\nwoman, smiled brightly, and greeted her in a loud, jovial voice. She\nmade the mistake of taking the whole matter lightly; her tone amounted\nto ridicule.\n\n\"Sim says you've been having a tantrum, Creeshy. Don't know what for,\nhe says.\"\n\n\"He don't,\" said the wife with a sullen flash in the eyes. \"_He_\ndon't know why! Well, then, you just tell him what I say. I've lived\nin hell long enough. I'm done. I've slaved here day in and day out f'r\ntwelve years without pay--not even a decent word. I've worked like no\nnigger ever worked 'r could work and live. I've given him all I had,\n'r ever expect to have. I'm wore out. My strength is gone, my patience\nis gone. I'm done with it--that's a _part_ of what's the matter.\"\n\n\"My sakes, Lucreeshy! You mustn't talk that way.\"\n\n\"But I _will_,\" said the woman, as she supported herself on one palm\nand raised the other. \"I've _got_ to talk that way.\" She was ripe for\nan explosion like this. She seized upon it with eagerness. \"They aint\nno use o' livin' this way, anyway. I'd take poison if it want f'r the\nyoung ones.\"\n\n\"Lucreeshy Burns!\"\n\n\"Oh, I mean it.\"\n\n\"Land sakes alive, I b'leeve you're goin' crazy!\"\n\n\"I shouldn't wonder if I was. I've had enough t' drive an Indian\ncrazy. Now you jest go off an' leave me 'lone. I aint in mind to\nvisit--they aint no way out of it, an' I'm tired o' tryin' to _find_ a\nway. Go off an' let me be.\"\n\nHer tone was so bitterly hopeless that the great jolly face of Mrs.\nCouncil stiffened into a look of horror such as she had not worn for\nyears. The children, in two separate groups, could be heard rioting.\nBees were humming around the clover in the grass, and the kingbird\nchattered ceaselessly from the Lombardy poplar-tip. Both women felt\nall this peace and beauty of the morning, dimly, and it disturbed Mrs.\nCouncil because the other was so impassive under it all. At last,\nafter a long and thoughtful pause, Mrs. Council asked a question whose\nanswer she knew would decide it all,--asked it very kindly and\nsoftly,--\n\n\"Creeshy, are you comin' in?\"\n\n\"No,\" was the short and sullenly decisive answer. Mrs. Council knew\nthat was the end, and so rose with a sigh and went away.\n\n\"Wal, good by,\" she said simply.\n\nLooking back she saw Lucretia lying at length with closed eyes and\nhollow cheeks. She seemed to be sleeping, half-buried in the grass.\nShe did not look up nor reply to her sister-in-law. Her life also was\none of toil and trouble, but not so hard and hapless as Lucretia's.\nBy contrast with most of her neighbors she seemed comfortable.\n\n\"Sim Burns, what you ben doin' to that woman?\" she burst out as she\nwaddled up to where the two men were sitting under a cotton-wood tree,\ntalking and whittling after the manner of farmers.\n\n\"Nawthin' 's fur 's I know,\" answered Burns, not quite honestly, and\nlooking uneasy.\n\n\"You needn't try t' git out of it like that, Sim Burns,\" replied his\nsister. \"That woman never got into that fit f'r _nawthin'_.\"\n\n\"Wal, if you know more about it than I do, whadgy ask _me_ fur,\" he\nreplied angrily.\n\n\"Tut, tut!\" put in Council, always a peacemaker, \"hold y'r horses!\nDon't git on y'r ear, childern! Keep cool, and don't spile y'r shirts.\nMost likely yer all t' blame. Keep cool an' swear less.\"\n\n\"Wal, I'll bet Sim's more to blame than she is. Why they aint a\nharder-workin' woman in the hull State of Ioway than she is--\"\n\n\"Except Marm Council.\"\n\n\"Except nobody. Look at her, jest skin and bones.\"\n\nCouncil chuckled in his vast way. \"That's so, mother, measured in that\nway she leads over you. You git fat on it.\"\n\nShe smiled a little, her indignation oozing away; she never \"_could_\nstay mad,\" her children were accustomed to tell her. Burns refused to\ntalk any more about the matter, and the visitors gave it up, and got\nout their team and started for home, Mrs. Council firing this parting\nshot:--\n\n\"The best thing you can do to-day is t' let her alone. Mebbe the\nchildern 'll bring her round again. If she does come round, you see 't\nyou treat her a little more 's y' did when you was a-courtin' her.\"\n\n\"This way,\" roared Council, putting his arm around his wife's waist.\nShe boxed his ears while he guffawed and clucked at his team.\n\nBurns took a measure of salt and went out into the pasture to salt the\ncows. On the sunlit slope of the field, where the cattle came running\nand bawling to meet him, he threw down the salt in handfuls, and then\nlay down to watch them as they eagerly licked it up, even gnawing a\nbare spot in the sod in their eagerness to get it all.\n\nBurns was not a drinking man; was hard-working, frugal, in fact, he\nhad no extravagances except his tobacco. His clothes he wore until\nthey all but dropped from him; and he worked in rain and mud, as well\nas dust and sun. It was this suffering and toiling all to no purpose\nthat made him sour and irritable. He didn't see why he should have so\nlittle after so much hard work.\n\nHe was puzzled to account for it all. His mind (the average mind) was\nweary with trying to solve an insoluble problem. His neighbors, who\nhad got along a little better than himself, were free with advice and\nsuggestion as to the cause of his persistent poverty.\n\nOld man Bacon, the hardest-working man in the county, laid it to\nBurns' lack of management. Jim Butler, who owned a dozen farms (which\nhe had taken on mortgages), and who had got rich by buying land at\ngovernment price and holding for a rise, laid all such cases as Burns\nto \"lack of enterprise, foresight.\"\n\nBut the larger number feeling themselves \"in the same boat\" with\nBurns, said:--\n\n\"I'd know. Seems as if things got worse an' worse. Corn an' wheat\ngittin' cheaper 'n' cheaper. Machinery eatin' up profits--got to\n_have_ machinery to harvest the cheap grain, an' then the machinery\neats up profits. Taxes goin' up. Devil to pay all round; I'd know what\n'n thunder _is_ the matter.\"\n\nThe democrats said protection was killing the farmers, the republicans\nsaid no. The grangers growled about the middle-men, the green-backers\nsaid there wasn't circulating medium enough, and in the midst of it\nall, hard-working discouraged farmers, like Simeon Burns, worked on,\nunable to find out what really was the matter.\n\nAnd there on this beautiful Sabbath morning, Sim sat and thought and\nthought, till he rose with an oath, and gave it up.\n\n\nIII.\n\nIt was hot and brilliant again the next morning as Douglass Radbourn\ndrove up the road with Lily Graham, the teacher of the school in the\nlittle white schoolhouse. It was blazing hot, even though not yet nine\no'clock, and the young farmers plowing beside the fence looked\nlongingly and somewhat bitterly at Radbourn seated in a fine\ntop-buggy beside a beautiful creature in lace and cambric.\n\nVery beautiful the town-bred \"schoolma'am\" looked to those grimy,\nsweaty fellows, superb fellows physically, too, with bare red arms and\nleather-colored faces. She was as if builded of the pink and white\nclouds soaring far up there in the morning sky. So cool, and sweet,\nand dainty.\n\nAs she came in sight, their dusty and sweaty shirts grew biting as the\npoisoned shirt of the Norse myth, their bare feet in the brown dirt\ngrew distressingly flat and hoof-like, and their huge, dirty, brown,\nchapped, and swollen hands grew so repulsive that the mere remote\npossibility of some time in the far future \"standing a chance\" of\nhaving an introduction to her, caused them to wipe them on their\ntrousers' leg stealthily.\n\nLycurgus Banks, \"Ly\" Banks, swore when he saw Radbourn. \"That cuss\nthinks he's ol' hell this morning. He don't earn his living. But he's\njest the kind of cuss to get holt of all the purty girls.\"\n\nOthers gazed with simple, sad wistfulness upon the slender figure,\npale, sweet face, and dark eyes of the young girl, feeling that to\nhave talk with such a fairy-like creature was a happiness too great to\never be their lot. And when she had passed they went back to work with\na sigh and feeling of loss.\n\nAs for Lily, she felt a pang of pity for these people. She looked at\nthis peculiar form of poverty and hardship much as the fragile, tender\ngirl of the city looks upon the men laying a gas-main in the streets.\nShe felt (sympathetically) the heat and grime, and though but the\nfaintest idea of what it meant to wear such clothing came to her, she\nshuddered. Her eyes had been opened to these things by Radbourn, who\nwas a well-known radical,--a law student in Rock River.\n\n\"Poor fellows!\" sighed Lily, almost unconsciously. \"I hate to see them\nworking there in the dirt and hot sun. It seems a hopeless sort of\nlife, doesn't it?\"\n\n\"Oh, but this is the most beautiful part of the year,\" said Radbourn.\n\"Think of them in the mud, in the sleet; think of them husking corn in\nthe snow, a bitter wind blowing; think of them a month later in the\nharvest; think of them imprisoned here in winter!\"\n\n\"Yes, it's dreadful! But I never felt it so keenly before. You have\nopened my eyes to it.\"\n\n\"Writers and orators have lied so long about 'the idyllic' in farm\nlife, and said so much about the 'independent American farmer' that he\nhimself has remained blind to the fact that he's one of the\nhardest-working and poorest-paid men in America. See the houses they\nlive in,--hovels.\"\n\n\"Yes, yes, I know,\" said Lily; a look of deeper pain swept over her\nface. \"And the fate of the poor women, oh, the fate of the women!\"\n\n\"Yes, it's a matter of statistics,\" went on Radbourn, pitilessly,\n\"that the wives of the American farmers fill our insane asylums. See\nwhat a life they lead, most of them; no music, no books. Seventeen\nhours a day in a couple of small rooms--dens. Now there's Sim Burns!\nwhat a travesty of a home! Yet there are a dozen just as bad in sight.\nHe works like a fiend,--so does his wife,--and what is their reward?\nSimply a hole to hibernate in and to sleep and eat in in summer. A\ndreary present and a well-nigh hopeless future. No, they have a\nfuture, if they knew it, and we must tell them.\"\n\n\"I know Mrs. Burns; she sends several children to my school. Poor,\npathetic little things, half-clad and wistful-eyed. They make my heart\nache; they are so hungry for love, and so quick to learn.\"\n\nAs they passed the Burns farm, they looked for the wife but she was\nnot to be seen. The children had evidently gone up to the little white\nschoolhouse at the head of the lane. Radbourn let the reins fall slack\nas he talked on. He did not look at the girl, his eyebrows were drawn\ninto a look of gloomy pain.\n\n\"It aint so much the grime that I abhor, nor the labor that crooks\ntheir backs and makes their hands bludgeons. It's the horrible waste\nof life involved in it all. I don't believe God intended a man to be\nbent to plow-handles like that, but that aint the worst of it. The\nworst of it is, these people live lives approaching automata. They\nbecome machines to serve others more lucky or more unscrupulous than\nthemselves. What is the world of art, of music, of literature, to\nthese poor devils--to Sim Burns and his wife there, for example? Or\neven to the best of these farmers?\"\n\nThe girl looked away over the shimmering lake of yellow-green corn, a\nchoking came into her throat. Her gloved hand trembled.\n\n\"What is such a life worth? It's all very comfortable for us to say,\n'they don't feel it.' How do we know what they feel? What do we know\nof their capacity for enjoyment of art and music? They never have\nleisure or opportunity. The master is very glad to be taught by\npreacher, and lawyer, and novelist, that his slaves are contented and\nnever feel any longings for a higher life. These people live lives but\nlittle higher than their cattle,--are _forced_ to live so. Their hopes\nand aspirations are crushed out, their souls are twisted and deformed\njust as toil twists and deforms their bodies. They are on the same\nlevel as the city laborer. It makes me wild to think of it. The very\nreligion they hear is a soporific. They are taught to be content here\nthat they may be happy hereafter. Suppose there isn't any hereafter?\"\n\n\"Oh, don't say that, please!\" Lily cried.\n\n\"But I don't _know_ that there is,\" looking up at her pitilessly, \"and\nI do know that these people are being robbed of something more than\nmoney, of all that makes life worth living. The promise of milk and\nhoney in Canaan is all very well, but I prefer to have mine here, then\nI'm sure of it.\"\n\n\"What can we do?\" murmured the girl.\n\n\"Do? Rouse these people for one thing; preach _discontent_, a noble\ndiscontent.\"\n\n\"It will only make them unhappy.\"\n\n\"No, it won't, not if you show them the way out. If it does, it's\nbetter to be unhappy striving for higher things, like a man, than to\nbe content in a wallow like swine.\"\n\n\"But what _is_ the way out?\"\n\nThis was sufficient to set Radbourn upon his hobby-horse. He outlined\nhis plan of action, the abolition of all indirect taxes. The State\ncontrol of all privileges, the private ownership of which interfered\nwith the equal rights of all. He would utterly destroy speculative\nholdings of the earth. He would have land everywhere brought to its\nbest use, by appropriating all ground rents to the use of the State,\netc., etc., to which the girl listened with eager interest but with\nonly partial comprehension.\n\nAs they neared the little schoolhouse, a swarm of midgets in pink\ndresses, pink sun-bonnets, and brown legs, came rushing to meet their\nteacher, with that peculiar devotion the children in the country\ndevelop for a refined teacher.\n\nRadbourn helped Lily out into the midst of the eager little scholars,\nwho swarmed upon her like bees on a lump of sugar, till even\nRadbourn's gravity gave way, and he smiled into her lifted eyes--an\nunusual smile, that strangely enough stopped the smile on her own\nlips, filling her face with a wistful shadow, and her breath came hard\nfor a moment and she trembled.\n\nShe loved that cold, stern face, oh, so much! and to have him smile\nwas a pleasure that made her heart leap till she suffered a smothering\npain. She turned to him to say:--\n\n\"I am very thankful, Mr. Radbourn, for another pleasant ride,\" adding\nin a lower tone, \"It was a very great pleasure; you always give me so\nmuch. I feel stronger and more hopeful.\"\n\n\"I'm glad you feel so. I was afraid I was prosy with my\nland-doctrine.\"\n\n\"Oh no! Indeed no! You have given me a new hope; I am exalted with the\nthought; I shall try to think it all out and apply it.\"\n\nAnd so they parted, the children looking on and slyly whispering among\nthemselves. Radbourn looked back after awhile but the bare little hive\nhad absorbed its little group, and was standing bleak as a tombstone\nand hot as a furnace on the naked plain in the blazing sun.\n\n\"America's pitiful boast!\" said the young radical looking back at it.\n\"Only a miserable hint of what it might be.\"\n\nAll that forenoon as Lily faced her little group of barefoot children,\nshe was thinking of Radbourn, of his almost fierce sympathy for these\npoor supine farmers, hopeless, and in some cases content in their\nnarrow lives. The children almost worshipped the beautiful girl who\ncame to them as a revelation of exquisite neatness and taste,--whose\nvery voice and intonation awed them.\n\nThey noted (unconsciously, of course,) every detail. Snowy linen,\ntouches of soft color, graceful lines of bust and side--the slender\nfingers that could almost speak, so beautifully flexile were they.\nLily herself sometimes, when she shook the calloused, knotted,\nstiffened hands of the women, shuddered with sympathetic pain, to\nthink that the crowning wonder and beauty of God's world should be so\nmaimed and distorted from its true purpose.\n\nEven in the children before her she could see the inherited results\nof fruitless labor--and more pitiful yet in the bent shoulders of the\nolder ones she could see the beginnings of deformity that would soon\nbe permanent. And as these things came to her, she clasped the poor\nwondering things to her side with a convulsive wish to make life a\nlittle brighter for them.\n\n\"How is your mother, Sadie?\" she asked of Sadie Burns, as she was\neating her luncheon on the drab-colored table near the open window.\n\n\"Purty well,\" said Sadie in a hesitating way.\n\nLily was looking out, and listening to the gophers whistling as they\nraced to and fro. She could see Bob Burns lying at length on the grass\nin the pasture over the fence, his heels waving in the air, his hands\nholding a string which formed a snare. Bob was \"death on gophers.\" It\nwas like fishing to young Izaak Walton.\n\nIt was very still and hot and the cheep and trill of the gophers, and\nthe chatter of the kingbirds alone broke the silence. A cloud of\nbutterflies were fluttering about a pool near, a couple of big flies\nbuzzed and mumbled on the pane.\n\n\"What ails your mother?\" Lily asked, recovering herself and looking at\nSadie who was distinctly ill at ease.\n\n\"Oh, I dunno,\" Sadie replied, putting one bare foot across the other.\n\nLily insisted.\n\n\"She 'n' pa's had an awful row--\"\n\n\"Sadie!\" said the teacher warningly, \"what language!\"\n\n\"I mean they quarrelled, an' she don't speak to him any more.\"\n\n\"Why, how dreadful!\"\n\n\"An' pa he's awful cross,--and she won't eat when he does, an' I haf\nto wait on table.\"\n\n\"I believe I'll go down and see her this noon,\" said Lily to herself,\nas she divined a little of the state of affairs in the Burns family.\n\nSim was mending the pasture fence as Lily came down the road toward\nhim. He had delayed going to dinner to finish his task and was just\nabout ready to go when Lily spoke to him.\n\n\"Good-morning, Mr. Burns. I am just going down to see Mrs. Burns. It\nmust be time to go to dinner--aren't you ready to go? I want to talk\nwith you.\"\n\nOrdinarily he would have been delighted with the idea of walking down\nthe road with the schoolma'am, but there was something in her look\nwhich seemed to tell him that she knew all about his trouble, and\nbeside he was not in good humor.\n\n\"Yes, in a minnit,--soon's I fix up this hole. Them shoats, I b'leeve,\nwould go through a keyhole, if they could once git their snoots in.\"\n\nHe expanded on this idea as he nailed away, anxious to gain time. He\nforesaw trouble for himself. He couldn't be rude to this sweet and\nfragile girl. If a _man_ had dared to attack him on his domestic\nshortcomings, he could have fought. The girl stood waiting for him,\nher large, steady eyes full of thought, gazing down at him from the\nshadow of her broad-brimmed hat.\n\n\"The world is so full of misery anyway, that we ought to do the best\nwe can to make it less,\" she said at last in a musing tone, as if her\nthoughts had unconsciously taken on speech. She had always appealed to\nhim strongly, and never more so than in this softly uttered\nabstraction,--that it was an abstraction added to its power with him.\n\nHe could find no words for reply, but picked up his hammer and\nnail-box, and slouched along the road by her side, listening without a\nword to her talk.\n\n\"Christ was patient, and bore with his enemies, surely we ought to\nbear with our--friends.\" She went on adapting her steps to his. He\ntook off his torn straw hat and wiped his face on his sleeve, being\nmuch embarrassed and ashamed. Not knowing how to meet such argument,\nhe kept silent.\n\n\"How _is_ Mrs. Burns?\" said Lily at length, determined to make him\nspeak. The delicate meaning in the emphasis laid on _is_ did not\nescape him.\n\n\"Oh, she's all right,--I mean she's done her work jest the same as\never. I don't see her much--\"\n\n\"I didn't know--I was afraid she was sick. Sadie said she was acting\nstrangely.\"\n\n\"No, she's well enough--but,--\"\n\n\"But what is the trouble? Won't you let me help you, _won't_ you?\"\n\n\"Can't anybody help us. We've got 'o fight it out, I s'pose,\" he\nreplied, a gloomy note of resentment creeping into his voice. \"She's\nben in a devil of a temper f'r a week.\"\n\n\"Haven't you been in the same kind of a temper too?\" demanded Lily,\nfirmly, but kindly. \"I think most troubles of this kind come from bad\ntemper on both sides. Don't you? Have you done your share at being\nkind and patient?\"\n\nThey had reached the gate now, and she laid her hand on his arm to\nstop him. He looked down at the slender gloved hand on his arm feeling\nas if a giant had grasped him, then he raised his eyes to her face,\nflushing a purplish red as he remembered his grossness. It seemed\nmonstrous in the presence of this girl-advocate. Her face was like\nsilver, her eyes seemed pools of tears.\n\n\"I don't s'pose I have,\" he said at last pushing by her. He couldn't\nhave stood her glance another moment. His whole air conveyed the\nimpression of destructive admission. Lily did not comprehend the\nextent of her advantage or she would have pursued it further. As it\nwas she felt a little hurt as she entered the house. The table was\nset, but Mrs. Burns was nowhere to be seen. Calling her softly, the\nyoung girl passed through the shabby little living room to the\noven-like bedroom which opened off it, but no one was about. She stood\nfor a moment shuddering at the wretchedness of the room.\n\nGoing back to the kitchen she found Sim about beginning on his dinner;\nlittle Pet was with him, the rest of the children were at the\nschoolhouse.\n\n\"Where is she?\"\n\n\"I d' know. Out in the garden I expect. She don't eat with me now. I\nnever see her. She don't come near _me_. I aint seen her since\nSaturday.\"\n\nLily was shocked inexpressibly and began to see clearer the magnitude\nof the task she had set herself to do. But it must be done; she felt\nthat a tragedy was not far off. It must be averted.\n\n\"Mr. Burns, what have you done? What _have_ you done?\" she asked in\nterror and horror.\n\n\"Don't lay it all to _me_! She hain't done nawthin' but complain f'r\nten years. I couldn't do nothin' to suit her. She was always naggin'\nme.\"\n\n\"I don't think Lucretia Burns would nag anybody. I don't say you're\n_all_ to blame, but I'm afraid you haven't acknowledged you were any\nto blame. I'm afraid you've not been patient with her. I'm going out\nto bring her in. If she comes will you say you were _part_ to blame?\nYou needn't beg her pardon, just say you'll try to be better. Will you\ndo it? Think how much she has done for you! Will you?\"\n\nHe remained silent, and looked discouragingly rude. His sweaty, dirty\nshirt was open at the neck, his arms were bare, his scraggly teeth\nwere yellow with tobacco, and his uncombed hair lay tumbled about on\nhis high, narrow head. His clumsy, unsteady hands played with the\ndishes on the table. His pride was struggling with his sense of\njustice; he knew he ought to consent, and yet it was so hard to\nacknowledge himself to blame. The girl went on in a voice piercingly\nsweet, trembling with pity and pleading.\n\n\"What word can I carry to her from you? I'm going to go and see her.\nIf I could take a word from _you_, I know she would come back to the\ntable. Shall I tell her you feel to blame?\"\n\nThe answer was a long time coming; at last the man nodded an assent,\nthe sweat pouring from his purple face. She had set him thinking, her\nvictory was sure.\n\nLily almost ran out into the garden and to the strawberry patch, where\nshe found Lucretia in her familiar, colorless, shapeless dress,\npicking berries in the hot sun, the mosquitoes biting her neck and\nhands.\n\n\"Poor, pathetic, dumb sufferer,\" the girl thought as she ran up to\nher.\n\nShe dropped her dish as she heard Lily coming, and gazed up into the\ntender, pitying face. Not a word was spoken, but something she saw\nthere made her eyes fill with tears, and her throat swell. It was pure\nsympathy. She put her arms around the girl's neck and sobbed for the\nfirst time since Friday night. Then they sat down on the grass under\nthe hedge and she told her story, interspersed with Lily's horrified\ncomments.\n\nWhen it was all told the girl still sat listening. She heard\nRadbourn's calm, slow voice again. It helped her not to hate Burns; it\nhelped her to pity and understand him.\n\n\"You must remember that such toil brutalizes a man; it makes him\ncallous, selfish, unfeeling necessarily. A fine nature must either\nadapt itself to its hard surroundings or die. Men who toil terribly in\nfilthy garments day after day and year after year cannot easily keep\ngentle; the frost and grime, the heat and cold will sooner or later\nenter into their souls. The case is not all in favor of the suffering\nwives, and against the brutal husbands. If the farmer's wife is dulled\nand crazed by her routine, the farmer himself is degraded and\nbrutalized. They are both products of a social system, victims of a\nland system, which produces tenement houses in the city, and pushes\nthe farmer into a semi-solitude--victims of land laws that are relics\nof feudalism, made in the interest of the man who holds a special\nprivilege in the earth. Free America has set up on its soil the\nsystems of land-owning which produces the lord and the tenant; that\nglorifies speculation in the earth, and gives the priceless riches of\nthe hills and forests into a few hands. But this will not continue--it\ncan't continue. The awakening understanding of America cries out\nagainst it.\"\n\nAs well as she could Lily explained all this to the woman who lay with\nher face buried in the girl's lap. Lily's arms were about her thin\nshoulders in an agony of pity.\n\n\"It's hard, Lucretia, I know, more than you can bear, but you mustn't\nforget what Sim endures, too. He goes out in the storms and in the\nheat and dust. His boots are hard, and see how his hands are all\nbruised and broken by his work! He was tired and hungry when he said\nthat--he didn't really mean it.\"\n\nThe wife remained silent.\n\n\"Mr. Radbourn says work as things go now _does_ degrade a man in spite\nof himself. He says men get coarse and violent in spite of themselves\njust as women do when everything goes wrong in the house,--when the\nflies are thick, and the fire won't burn, and the irons stick to the\nclothes. You see, you both suffer. Don't lay up this fit of temper\nagainst Sim--will you?\"\n\nThe wife lifted her head and looked away. Her face was full of\nhopeless weariness.\n\n\"It aint this once. It aint that 't all. It's having no let up. Just\ngoin' the same thing right over 'n' over--no hope of anything better.\"\n\n\"If you had a hope of another world--\"\n\n\"Don't talk that--that's rich man's doctrine. I don't want that kind\no' comfert. I want a decent chance here. I want 'o rest an' be happy\n_now_--then I'm sure of it.\"\n\nLily's big eyes were streaming with tears. What should she say to the\ndesperate woman?\n\n\"What's the use? We might jest as well die--all of us.\"\n\nThe woman's livid face appalled the beautiful girl. She was gaunt,\nheavy-eyed, nerveless. Her faded dress settled down over her limbs\nshowing the swollen knees and thin calves, her hands with distorted\njoints protruded painfully from her sleeves. And all about was the\never-recurring wealth and cheer of nature that knows no fear or favor.\nThe bees and flies buzzing in the sun, the jay and kingbird in the\npoplars, the smell of strawberries, the motion of lush grass, the\nshimmer of corn blades tossed gayly as banners in a conquering army.\n\nLike a flash of keener light a sentence shot across the girl's mind.\n\"Nature knows no title-deed. The bounty of her mighty hands falls as\nthe sunlight falls, copious, impartial; her seas carry all ships, her\nair is for all lips, her lands for all feet.\"\n\n\"Poverty and suffering such as yours will not last.\" There was\nsomething in the girl's voice that roused the woman. She turned her\ndull eyes upon her face.\n\nLily took her hand in both hers as if by a caress she could impart her\nown faith.\n\n\"Look up, dear. When Nature is so good and generous, man must come to\nbe better, surely. Come, go in the house again. Sim is there, he\nexpects you, he told me to tell you he was sorry.\" Lucretia's face\ntwitched a little at that, but her head was bent. \"Come, you can't\nlive this way. There isn't any other place to go to.\"\n\nNo, that was the bitterest truth. Where on this wide earth with its\nforth-shooting fruits and grains, its fragrant lands and shining seas,\ncould this dwarfed, bent, broken, middle-aged woman go? Nobody wanted\nher, nobody cared for her. But the wind kissed her drawn lips as\nreadily as those of the girl, and the blooms of clover nodded to her\nas if to a queen.\n\nLily had said all she could. Her heart ached with unspeakable pity and\na sort of terror.\n\n\"Don't give up, Lucretia. This may be the worst hour of your life.\nLive and bear with it all for Christ's sake--for your children's\nsake. Sim told me to tell you he was to blame. If you will only see\nthat you are both to blame and yet neither to blame, then you can rise\nabove it. Try, dear!\"\n\nThe wife pulled herself together, rose silently, and started toward\nthe house. Her face was rigid but no longer sullen. Lily followed her\nslowly, wonderingly.\n\nAs she neared the kitchen door, she saw Sim still sitting at the\ntable; his face was unusually grave and soft. She saw him start and\nshove back his chair,--saw Lucretia go to the stove and lift the\ntea-pot, and heard her say, as she took her seat beside the baby,--\n\n\"Want some more tea?\"\n\nShe had become a wife and mother again, but in what spirit the puzzled\ngirl could not say.\n\n\n\n\nEDITORIAL NOTES.\n\n\nAN EPOCH-MARKING DRAMA.\n\nA movement destined, I think, to be in a degree epoch-marking in the\ndramatic annals of the American stage, was inaugurated by Mr. James A.\nHerne, on the fourth of May, in Boston, in the production of his\nremarkable realistic drama, \"Margaret Fleming,\" at Chickering Hall.\nThe play is a bold innovation, so much so that no theatre in the city\nwould produce it, although the various managers who examined it\ndeclared it to be as strong as and no less powerful than any American\ndrama yet written. The character of the audience was as striking as\nthe play was brave and original. It was, indeed, a strange sight to\nsee such well-known and thoughtful men and women as Mr. William Dean\nHowells, Rev. Minot J. Savage, Rabbi Solomon Schindler, Rev. Edward A.\nHorton, Mrs. Louise Chandler Moulton, Hamlin Garland, and a score or\nmore of persons almost as well known in literary, religious, and\nthoughtful circles, assembled on the first night of a dramatic\nproduction. Nor was the character of the audience less remarkable\nduring the fortnight it was played. Men and women who are rarely seen\nat theatres attended two, three, and even four performances. The\nsuperb acting of Mr. and Mrs. Herne contributed much to the success of\nthe play; curiosity also doubtless attracted many, yet beyond and\nabove this was the deep appreciation of a thoughtful and intelligent\nconstituency, who saw in this drama the marvellous possibilities of\nthe stage for improvement as well as entertainment. They also saw real\nlife depicted. The absence of empty lines and stilted phrases so\ncommon in conventional drama was refreshing and interesting to those\nwho believe that the drama has a mission other than merely to amuse.\n\"Margaret Fleming\" is nothing if not artistic from the standpoint of\nthe realist. Its fidelity to life as we find it--to existing\nconditions and types of society,--is wonderful. Its dramatic strength\nis none the less marked. But aside from and above all this, for me it\nhas a far greater merit--utility. I have no sympathy with the\nflippant, effeminate, and senile cry, \"Art for art's sake\"; that is\nthe echo of a decaying civilization, the voice of Greece and Rome in\ntheir decline. It is the shibboleth of a people drunken with pleasure;\nof a popular conscience anaesthetized; the cry of sensualism and\nselfishness popular with shallow minds and bloodless hearts; the\nincarnation of that fatal effeminacy that springs from a union of\nwealth and superficial intellectuality; the voice of a human automaton\nwithout a soul. Victor Hugo has made no utterances more grandly true\nthan when he pleads for the beautiful being made the servant of\nprogress as voiced in the following sentiment:\n\n     \"Be of some service. Do not be fastidious when so much\n     depends upon being efficient and good. Art for art's sake\n     may be very fine, but art for _progress_ is finer still.\n     Ah! you must think? Then think of making man better.\n     Courage! Let us consecrate ourselves. Let us devote\n     ourselves to the good, to the true, to the just; it is well\n     for us to do so. Some pure lovers of art, moved by a\n     solicitude which is not without its dignity, discard the\n     formula, 'Art for Progress,' the Beautiful Useful, fearing\n     lest the useful should deform the beautiful. They tremble to\n     see the drudge's hand attached to the muse's arm. According\n     to them, the ideal may become perverted by too much contact\n     with _reality_. They are solicitous for the sublime, if it\n     descends as far as to humanity. They are in error. The\n     useful, far from circumscribing the sublime, enlarges it.\n     But critics protest: To undertake the cure of social evils;\n     to amend the codes; to impeach law in the court of right to\n     utter those hideous words, 'penitentiary,' 'convict-keeper,'\n     'galley-slave,' 'girl of the town'; to inspect the police\n     registers; to contract the business of dispensaries; to\n     study the questions of wages and want of work; to taste the\n     black bread of the poor; to seek labor for the\n     working-woman; to confront fashionable idleness with ragged\n     sloth; to throw down the partition of ignorance; to open\n     schools; to teach little children how to read; to attack\n     shame, infamy, error, vice, crime, want of conscience; to\n     preach the multiplication of spelling-books; to improve the\n     food of intellects and of hearts; to give meat and drink; to\n     demand solutions for problems and shoes for naked\n     feet,--these things they declare are not the business of the\n     azure. Art is the azure. Yes, art is the azure; but the\n     azure from above, whence falls the ray which swells the\n     wheat, yellows the maize, rounds the apple, gilds the\n     orange, sweetens the grape. Again I say, a further service\n     is an added beauty. At all events, where is the diminution?\n     To ripen the beet-root, to water the potato, to increase the\n     yield of lucern, of clover, or of hay; to be a\n     fellow-workman with the ploughman, the vinedresser, and the\n     gardener,--this does not deprive the heavens of one star.\n     _Immensity does not despise utility_,--and what does it lose\n     by it? Does the vast vital fluid that we call magnetic or\n     electric flash through the cloud-masses with less splendor\n     because it consents to perform the office of pilot to a\n     bark, and to keep constant to the north the little needle\n     intrusted to it, the gigantic guide? Yet the critics insist\n     that to compose social poetry, human poetry, popular poetry;\n     to grumble against the evil and laud the good, to be the\n     spokesman of public wrath, to insult despots, to make knaves\n     despair, to emancipate man before he is of age, to push\n     souls forward and darkness backward, to know that there are\n     thieves and tyrants, to clean penal cells, to flush the\n     sewer of public uncleanness,--is not the function of art!\n     Why not? Homer was the geographer and historian of his time,\n     Moses the legislator of his, Juvenal the judge of his, Dante\n     the theologian of his, Shakespeare the moralist of his,\n     Voltaire the philosopher of his. No region, in speculation\n     or in fact, is shut to the mind. Here a horizon, there\n     wings; freedom for all to soar. To sing the ideal, to love\n     humanity, to believe in progress, to pray toward the\n     infinite. To be the servant of God in the task of progress,\n     and the apostle of God to the people,--such is the law which\n     regulates growth. All power is duty. Should this power enter\n     into repose in our age? Should duty shut its eyes? And is\n     the moment come for art to disarm? Less than ever. Thanks to\n     1789, the human caravan has reached a high plateau; and, the\n     horizon being vaster, art has more to do. This is all. To\n     every widening of the horizon, an enlargement of conscience\n     corresponds. We have not reached the goal. Concord condensed\n     into felicity, civilization summed up in harmony,--that is\n     yet far off. The theatre is a crucible of civilization. It\n     is a place of human communion. All its phases need to be\n     studied. It is in the theatre that the public soul is\n     formed.\"\n\nThe theatre may be made the most potent engine for progress and\nreform. We are living in the midst of the most splendid age which has\ndawned since humanity first fronted the morning, dimly conscious of\nits innate power and the possibilities that lay imbedded in its being;\nan era of life, growth, warfare. On the one hand are ancient thought\nand prejudice, on the other the inspiration of greater liberty and a\nnobler manhood. On the one hand selfishness, sensuality, vulgar\nostentation, avarice, luxury, and moral effeminacy crying, \"Art for\nart's sake,\" demanding amusements that will aid in dissipating any\nmoral strength or deep thought that still lingers in the mind, and\nliterature that shall enable one to kill time without the slightest\nsuspicion of intellectual exertion; physical, mental, and moral ennui,\nwith an assumed lofty contempt for utility. On the other hand we have\nthe gathering forces of the dawn, demanding \"art for progress,\"\ndeclaring that beauty must be the handmaid of duty; that art must wait\non justice, liberty, fraternity, nobility, morality, and intellectual\nhonesty,--in a word the forces in league with light must compel the\nbeautiful to make radiant the pathway of the future. In the union of\nart and utility lies the supreme excellence of \"Margaret Fleming,\" it\ndeals with one of the most pressing problems of our present\ncivilization; it is the most powerful plea for an equal standard of\nmorals for men and women that I have ever heard. This thought, it is\ntrue, like the entire drama, is anything but conventional; it breathes\nthe spirit of the coming day. The subtile bondage and servility of\nwoman, a vestige of the barbarous past, still taints our civilization.\nFar more is demanded by society of her than of man, and when\nheretofore she has raised her voice against this inequity she has been\nsilenced by unworthy imputations. It is the shame of our age that\nwoman is not accorded a higher meed of justice. She has a right to\ndemand that the man who marries her be every whit as pure and moral as\nherself, and until she makes this demand, and holds herself from the\ncontamination of moral lepers, no substantial progress for higher\nmorals and purer life will be made. Unless woman checks the increasing\ndegradation of manhood, man will sooner or later drag her to his\ndeplorable level. \"Margaret Fleming\" shows this truth and points to\nthe woman of to-day her stern and inexorable duty.\n\nUnless woman assumes an aggressive stand and ostracizes the libertine,\nrefusing his society, his attention, and most of all the proffer of\nhis leprous love, the moral outlook for society will soon be as gloomy\nas was Rome's future when Epictetus was banished from her streets\nbecause he mercilessly assailed the moral degradation of his day.\n\n\nTHE PRESENT REVOLUTION IN THEOLOGICAL THOUGHT.\n\nThe rapid spread of heresy throughout the churches is creating genuine\ndismay in many quarters. When such ripe scholars and representative\nthinkers as Rev. Heber Newton, Dr. C. A. Briggs, and Rev. Dr.\nBridgman, representing three of the most powerful Protestant\ncommunions, freely preach doctrines at variance with conventional\northodox views, and express a grander hope and broader faith than that\ncherished by conservative theologians, it is by no means strange that\nthe current of old-time thought should be stirred. If, however, these\nscholarly minds stood alone in their convictions, there would be no\nwarrant for such widespread apprehension as is manifest. The serious\ncharacter of the present theological revolution, however, lies in the\nfact that the pulpit and the people are honey-combed with the peculiar\nheresy which rejects the verbal inspiration of the Bible and the dogma\nof eternal damnation.[9] The general uneasiness occasioned by the\npresent epidemic of heresy, and the bitter strictures which it has\ncalled forth, are perfectly natural, while it is equally true that the\npresent liberal attitude of so many of the foremost thinkers in the\nvarious orthodox churches is the legitimate outcome of numerous\nagencies which have been silently working for generations.\n\n      [9] The _United Presbyterian_ in a recent issue says,\n          \"It appears that Dr. Briggs does not stand alone in the\n          theological seminaries of the Presbyterian Church as a\n          teacher of dangerous views of inspiration. Four of the\n          professors of Lane Seminary have declared themselves as\n          equally radical.\" The _Interior_ says, \"The paper of\n          Prof. Smith, of Lane, published in a pamphlet with that\n          of Prof. Evans, goes much beyond anything that has\n          appeared on the subject from Presbyterian authorship in\n          this country.\"\n\n          At the meeting of the Alumni of the Union Theological\n          Seminary, on the eighteenth of May, the newly elected\n          professor of systematic theology, the brilliant Rev.\n          Henry J. Van Dyke, D. D. (since deceased) made the\n          following bold remark while defending Dr. Briggs: \"_If\n          we cannot have orthodoxy and liberty, let orthodoxy go\n          and let us have liberty. Liberty has always produced\n          progress._\"\n\n          In his sermon on May the 24th, Rev. Thomas Dixon, one\n          of the Baptist clergymen of New York City, said: The\n          heresy trial is a record of barbarism, a relic of\n          savagery. It belongs to the crudeness, and ignorance,\n          and superstition of barbaric times. It smells of\n          roasting flesh.\n\n          On the same Sunday the Rev. Dr. Charles H. Parkhurst,\n          of the Madison Square Presbyterian Church, of New York,\n          quoted the ringing words given above by Dr. Van Dyke,\n          with his cordial indorsement. He continued to thus\n          severely arraign the Orthodox brethren in the\n          Presbyterian Church:\n\n          \"This question of inerrancy is not new. Calvin, Luther,\n          and many others did not believe in the Bible's\n          inerrancy. If this is not according to the confession\n          of faith--I don't know whether it is or not--we had\n          better square the confession with the truth rather than\n          the truth with the confession. Let those who would\n          prove that there are no mistakes in the Bible produce a\n          cud-chewing coney, and then we will consider the\n          question of inerrancy.\n\n          If the Church is to go on in the way that some are\n          trying to persuade us it ought to go, the sooner it\n          gives up the ghost the better, to save the medical\n          expense.\"\n\nAt various era-marking periods in the annals of history, the\nmultitudes have been thus disturbed. They have felt that the old-time\nbeliefs of their fathers, the tradition of ages, the oracles, which\nfrom early infancy they have learned to revere and hold most sacred,\nwere being demolished. This naturally aroused bitter antagonism in\ntheir souls. They believed they were carrying out God's wishes when\nlike Saul of Tarsus, they aided in slaying heretics. Thus when the\ngreat Nazarene taught a higher, sweeter, and nobler code of ethics\nthan the ancient Jewish law-givers and teachers, he was persecuted and\nslain because the Jews believed he sought to overthrow their revered\nand sacred truths. In a like manner Paul and the early advocates of\nChristianity, when they proclaimed their religion in Gentile lands\nfrequently aroused the bitterest antagonism. At a later date Galileo's\ndemonstrations and Sir Isaac Newton's discovery occasioned precisely\nthe game dismay, and called forth bitter and pronounced opposition,\nbecause it was felt that in one case the authority of the Bible was\nimpeached, and in the other that God was to be taken out of the\nuniverse. When Luther and the Reformation broke the dead calm of\ncenturies of growing corruption and externalization in the religious\nlife of Europe, Christendom felt a thrill of dismay. New disturbing\nelements had entered the fields. The general uneasiness on the part of\ntens of thousands of people who believed they were sincere worshippers\nof God, was succeeded by an intense desire to crush out this dangerous\nheresy with fire and torture, if necessary. The terrible days, months,\nand years that followed the dawn of the Reformation, bear melancholy\ntestimony to the innate ferocity of man's nature, and the relentless\ncharacter of religious warfare. Nevertheless, in spite of persecution,\nthe new truth spread. A broader horizon opened to man's view. That\nconflict marked the birth of one of the grandest epochs in humanity's\nonward march. Thus has it ever been. To-day stones the prophet,\nto-morrow tearfully rears a monument and treasures his lofty\nutterances.\n\nYet with every transition period comes the old-time struggle, the\napprehension and anguish of spirit, _the night of doubt_. It is,\ntherefore, not surprising that the oppression of fear weighs on the\nminds of all those who believe that God has spoken His last word; that\nin the twilight of the past alone lies the hope of humanity.\n\nOn the other hand, the theological revolt now manifest is a legitimate\nresult of multitudinous agencies, which have for generations been\nsilently and subtly influencing the mind of man, among which may be\nmentioned the spread of popular education, and the growth of the\nnewspaper. As long as people knew not how to read or were unable to\nprocure any medium of information which brought them in rapport with\nthe vast growing world of thought and action, they naturally turned to\ntheir priest or clergyman for intellectual as well as religious food,\nand from him as a rule received instruction with the docility and\nconfidence exhibited by little children seeking for truth. With the\nappearance of schoolhouses in every hamlet, and the establishment of\ncheap and popular newspapers, however, came a change as marked as it\nwas wonderful. People began to reason and think for themselves. They\ndemanded credentials for the various dogmas and ideas discussed in\nevery department of thought. It is true, that religion was approached\nmuch more reluctantly and reverently than other subjects, but the\ngrowth of knowledge, the opportunity to hear all sides of problems\ndiscussed, and the broader conception of life which a world knowledge\ngave, exerted a positive and ever-increasing influence on their minds\nin this department of thought. The great inventions of the past\nhundred years, which have bound together as one family almost the\nwhole world, have also brought to light the great religions of other\nraces and ages. Gradually it dawned on the public mind that almost\nevery people had a clearly defined system of theology; containing much\nthat was beautiful, elevating, and inspiring, more or less hidden\namong superstitious traditions natural to childhood and credulous\nages. This led many to ask whether Jesus might not have had a larger\nthought in his mind than mankind had dreamed when he said, \"Other\nsheep have I which are not of this fold\"; and whether there might not\nbe a wider significance than had been given to the idea, that God had\nin sundry times and in divers ways spoken to His children on earth.\nAnother lever of progressive thought was the marvellous strides taken\nin physical science, which followed the Reformation. Discoveries in\nastronomy, in geology and biology have completely overthrown many\ntime-honored and revered traditions and fables regarded for ages as\ndivine truth. The critical spirit of the age, the inquiring condition\nof human thought, which instead of being discouraging is distinctly a\nmark of human growth, stands in bold antithesis to the dark ages, when\nspeculation and progress were outlawed in many fields of research, and\nspirituality suffered an eclipse behind the pomp, form, and show of\ntheology, when to a great degree mental stagnation prevailed. Yet this\ncritical spirit has been one of the most potent factors in\nliberalizing thought. Another cause for the radical change of views\namong Bible scholars is found in the rich results of archaeological\nresearch during the past generation. This with a critical, or\nscientific study of the Bible, the early church, and profane history,\ncontemporaneous with the rise of Christianity, has led thousands of\nthe most profound and sincere religious thinkers into broader fields,\ngiving to them a loftier view of life, eternity and God than was\npossible under the old conceptions. What diligent research on the part\nof scholarship has effected among critical students, the recent\nrevision of the Bible has accomplished among the people. The old-time\nreverence for the letter of the law, or what is commonly known as\nverbal inspiration, is disappearing as mist before the sunshine,\nowing, in this latter case, to the people becoming acquainted for the\nfirst time with the fact that there are passages in the Bible\nconfessed by the most orthodox scholars to be spurious. They found in\nthe revised scriptures passages in some instances containing many\nconsecutive verses enclosed in brackets, as, for example, the story of\nthe woman taken in sin in the Gospel of John from vii. 53 to viii. 11\ninclusive. Consulting the foot-note they found that these passages\nwere spurious or added by a later hand. I well remember the\nexplanation made by a scholarly and devout professor in theology,\nwhile at the Kentucky University, regarding the passage referred to\nabove. \"The incident doubtless occurred much as it appears,\" asserted\nthe professor, \"but while omitted from the earlier copies, was handed\ndown by tradition, and at a later day incorporated into the text.\"\nSuch explanations in the very nature of things, however, were by no\nmeans calculated to satisfy the doubts which had been raised in the\nminds of those who had from infancy been taught to believe in the\nverbal inspiration of the Bible. Naturally the question arose in the\nminds of the thinking masses, if one _passage_ is proved to be\nspurious, and the world possesses no original manuscripts, what\nguarantee that anything approaching the original teachings of Jesus is\npreserved. If the stream of inspiration is proved to be muddy in some\nplaces, is it not possible that what at first was pure as the melting\nsnow on the mountain tops, after passing through the hands of various\nhuman authors and copyists, may have become as turbid with the cast of\nhuman thought as the mountain stream which, pure at the source, is\nheavy with mud at the base? It is impossible to estimate how much\ninfluence this discovery on the part of the people has exerted in\nbehalf of a broader and more liberal interpretation of the Bible.\nAnother factor which is usually overlooked, but which has had a marked\neffect on the thought which to-day is in open rebellion against the\nold standards, is found in the influence exerted by a galaxy of great\nand godly lives, which came on the stage of existence early in the\npresent century, and whose thoughts have unconsciously broadened the\nminds, refined the sentiment, and ennobled the lives of every one who\nhas read their works. In this country Longfellow, Bryant, Whittier,\nLowell, Hawthorne, Emerson, Channing, Parker, Clarke, and other\nilluminated souls, gave all who came under the magic of their words a\nbroader view of life, a truer conception of the universe, and a\nloftier inspiration than aught that had touched them before. It is\ndoubtful if the great thinkers dreamed that on the current of their\nthoughts tens of thousands of earnest lives were to be carried into a\nlarger hope, a more intelligent, humane appreciation of the mysteries\nof creation, and a grander idea of God. Thus we see in the present\nreligious revolution nothing strange in the bitter opposition of\nconservative thought, nothing remarkable in the persistent and earnest\nattitude of those who stand for the higher criticism. It is the old\nfeud; the past struggling with the future; departing night battling\nwith the dawn. Of the issue none who have faith in the ultimate\ntriumph of truth, wisdom, and progress can doubt.\n\n\nTHE CONFLICT BETWEEN ANCIENT AND MODERN THOUGHT IN THE PRESBYTERIAN\nCHURCH.\n\nThe vote of the New York Presbytery on the twelfth of May, to present\nthe case of Prof. Charles A. Briggs[10] before the synod will probably\nprove one of the most momentous moves made in recent years in the\ntheological world. It is a positive challenge thrown before\nPresbyterians who hold views popularly termed \"Higher Criticism.\" It\nis a declaration of war to the knife on the part of those who oppose\nthe revision of the Westminster Confession, and who cherish ancient\nthought. Nor is the opposition led by Dr. Briggs disposed to yield\nwhat is believed to be the only truth consistent with an intelligent\nconception of a just, loving, and wise God. The immediate cause of\nthis determined conflict is found in Professor Briggs' recent address\non the authority of the Holy Scriptures, delivered at his inaugural as\nProfessor of Biblical Theology in the Union Theological Seminary of\nNew York. In this notable address he maintained that there were three\ngreat fountains of divine authority, the Bible, the Church, and\nReason, any one of which was capable of leading persons to God. He\ninstanced the following cases: Cardinal Newman was led to God through\nthe Church of Rome; Spurgeon, through the Bible, and the philosopher\nMartineau through Reason. He further asserted \"that no one could get\nat the Bible unless he forced his way through human obstacles, which\nhe tabulated as follows: (1) Superstitious reverence for the book\nitself. (2) The belief in the verbal inspiration of the Bible. (3) The\nauthenticity of the Scriptures. Traditions from the dead church assign\nauthors to all the books of the Bible, but higher criticism pronounces\nthese traditions fallacies and follies. (4) The doctrine of the\ninerrancy of the Bible. Historical criticism again pronounces that\nthere are errors in the Bible, but they are in circumstantials, not in\nessentials. (5) The miracles are in violation of the laws of nature,\nand keep men away from the Bible. (6) The failure of minute prophecy.\"\nDr. Briggs further expressed belief in the ultimate salvation of\nmankind, declaring that redemption was not limited to this world, but\ncontinued through the vast period of time preceding the resurrection.\n\n     [10] Dr. Philip Schaff, than whom there is no abler or\n          more renowned biblical scholar in the New World, has in\n          a recent paper in the New York _Herald_ defended Dr.\n          Briggs. That journal aptly says: In his paper, he\n          defines in the most trenchant language, the apparent\n          inconsistency of the New York Presbytery in practically\n          avowing, eighteen months ago, the same principle for\n          which Dr. Briggs, it declares, must now stand trial. He\n          declares that the American Presbyterian Church has\n          herself materially changed the Westminster Confession\n          of a hundred years ago, and that this spirit of\n          revision pervades the whole Christian world. Finally,\n          he asserts that, as the theory of verbal inspiration of\n          the Scriptures is not in the Westminster Confession of\n          Faith, it cannot be demanded from any Presbyterian\n          minister or professor, and warns churchmen that any\n          attempt by the General Assembly to enforce an extra\n          Scriptural and extra Confessional theory upon the\n          Church will create a split worse than that of 1837. The\n          _Herald_ observes that:--\n\n          \"Dr. Schaff's international fame as a church historian\n          and theologian will compel the greatest respect from\n          not alone the ministers of the Presbyterian church, but\n          also from the clergy of all Christian churches.\n\n          As early as 1845, he was tried for heresy in this\n          country, and acquitted. In 1854, he represented the\n          American German churches at the Ecclesiastical Diet at\n          Frankfort, and received the degree of D. D. from the\n          University at Berlin. In 1870, he accepted the chair of\n          sacred literature in the Union Theological Seminary of\n          this city. He is a member of the Leipsic Historical,\n          the Netherland, and other historical and literary\n          societies in this country and in Europe, and is one of\n          the founders and honorary secretary of the American\n          Branch of the Evangelical Alliance. In 1871, he was one\n          of the Alliance delegates to the Emperor of Russia to\n          plead for the religious liberty of his subjects in the\n          Baltic Provinces.\n\n          He was president of the American Bible Revision\n          Committee, which was appointed in 1871 at the request\n          of the English committee, and in 1875 was sent to\n          England to arrange for the co-operation and publication\n          of the Anglo-American edition. The same year he\n          attended officially the conferences of the Old\n          Catholics, Greeks and Protestants at Bonn, to promote\n          Christian unity.\n\n          Dr. Schaff was first president of the American Society\n          of Church History, and is the author of a great number\n          of historical and exegetical works, both in English and\n          German, the latter having been translated into\n          English.\"\n\nOn page 55 of his revised address, he observes:\n\n     The Biblical redemption is a redemption of our race and of\n     universal nature. As the ancient Jews limited redemption to\n     Israel and overlooked the nations, so the Church limited\n     redemption to those who were baptized, and excluded the\n     heathen and unbaptized. The Presbyterians have too often\n     limited redemption by their doctrine of election; the Bible\n     knows no such limitation. The Bible teaches election, but an\n     election of love. Loving only the elect, is earthly, human\n     teaching. Electing men to salvation by the touch of Divine\n     love--that is heavenly doctrine. The salvation of the world\n     can only mean the world as a whole, compared with which the\n     unredeemed will be so few and insignificant and evidently\n     beyond the reach of redemption by their own act of rejecting\n     it and hardening themselves against it, and by descending\n     into such depths of demoniacal depravity that they will\n     vanish from sight.\n\nIn the appendix to his address, published about the middle of May, in\nspeaking of _inerrancy_, Dr. Briggs further observes:--\n\n     It is agreed that there are a large number of errors in the\n     best MSS. of the Bible; it is the theory of modern\n     dogmaticians, that they were not in the original MSS. We can\n     never have them, and it is idle to speculate as to their\n     contents. When the Lower or Textual Criticism has done its\n     best, and secured the best possible text, dogmaticians\n     discredit the best text when they speculate as to what was\n     in the original text. If the reactionary dogmaticians may\n     speculate to remove errors from the text, the rationalistic\n     critics may also speculate with regard to the original text\n     in a way that would make havoc with scholastic theology.\n     Even Mohammed was willing to accept the original text of the\n     Law and the Gospel, which he claimed had been falsified by\n     Jews and Christians.\n\n     I said, \"It is not a pleasant task to point out errors in\n     the Sacred Scriptures.\" In \"Biblical Study,\" and \"Whither?\"\n     I limited myself to two errors of citation. I have not taken\n     a brief to prove the errancy of Scripture. _Conservative men\n     should hesitate before they force the critics in\n     self-defence to make a catalogue of errors in the Bible._\n     The errors are in the only texts we have, and every one is\n     forced to recognize them.\n\n     It is well known that the great reformers, Calvin and\n     Luther, recognized errors in the Scriptures, that Baxter and\n     Rutherford of the second Reformation were not disturbed by\n     them, and that the choicest spirits of modern times--such as\n     Van Oosterzee, Tholuck, Neander, Stier, Lange, and\n     Dorner--have not hesitated to point out numerous errors in\n     Holy Scripture. This view is maintained by Sanday, Driver,\n     Cheyne, Davidson, Bruce, Gore, Marcus Dods, Blaikie, and\n     numerous others in Great Britain; by Fisher, Thayer, Smythe,\n     Evans, H. B. Smith, W. R. Harper, and hosts of others in\n     this country.\"\n\nOne can easily see how dangerously heretical such bold declarations\nwould sound to patriarchs of conservatism like Rev. Dr. Shedd, the\nwell-known author of Dogmatic Theology, which embraces thirteen\nhundred pages, but in the index of which one looks in vain for\n\"forgiveness of sin\" or \"pardon of sin.\" A work which devotes\neighty-six pages to hell and only four to heaven. Dr. Briggs, however,\nclaims that theologians like Dr. Shedd, whose teachings have been\nchiefly on the damnation of men not competent to judge him, and gauged\nby our present civilization he is doubtless correct, but by the\nstandard of the theologians who framed the Westminster Confession, I\nhave less confidence in his accuracy. It must be remembered, however,\nthat Professor Briggs has exhaustively studied the lives and\nteachings of the framers of the Confession, and he may have been able\nat times to catch them at their best, when in moments of spiritual\nexaltation they have uttered grand prophetic and divinely loving\nutterances which were foreign to their usual habits of thought or the\nreligious conviction of the age in which they lived. And in that event\nhe may be able to maintain his position when his case is called before\nthe synod, even against the popular impression as to the real meaning\nof the Confession. Failing in this, the only alternative will be\nrecantation or withdrawal from the Presbyterian Communion. From the\nstand already taken it is impossible to imagine the professor\nstultifying himself and teaching what he does not believe; while his\nwithdrawal will unquestionably mean the greatest schism that\nPresbyterianism has yet suffered. I think it highly probable that the\nmajority of his brother ministers to-day will condemn[11] the bold,\nbrave man whom his communion in the near future will revere as a man\nwho, prophet-like, saw beyond the sect to which he belonged; whose\nnoble, loving, and holy nature drew him into intimate relationship\nwith the Divine life, which is the essence of Love.\n\n     [11] Since writing the above the Assembly at Detroit has\n          voted against the confirmation of Dr. Briggs by 440\n          against 59; thus, from a numerical point of view, Dr.\n          Briggs is in the minority. This is by no means\n          surprising, and I regard it greatly to the credit of\n          the Assembly that, while they hold to the severe\n          doctrines popularly known as Calvinism, they repudiate\n          all the great liberal scholars who refuse to believe\n          and teach conceptions of God which were unquestioningly\n          accepted in a former age, but which the enlightenment\n          of the present century shrinks from with unutterable\n          horror. Unless Dr. Briggs proves a dishonest man and\n          recants he must leave Union Theological Seminary, if\n          that institution remains in the Presbyterian\n          fellowship.\n\n\n\n[Transcriber's Note: A macron diacritical mark, a straight line above\na letter, is found on several words in the original text. These letters\nare indicated here by the coding [=x] for a macron above any letter x.\nFor example, the word \"aionios\" with a macron above the first letter\n\"o\" will appear as \"ai[=o]nios\" in the text.]","title":"The Arena, Volume 4, No. 20, July, 1891","tradition":"philosophy-ethics","translated_text":null,"word_count":52406}